Random Thoughts

way interesting. Made me realize: It’s the same reason why I ride. James Cameron got Titanic in his craw, because he wanted to know what happened, and spent so much of his own money to find out: Archaeology leaves clues that beg to be answered for the curious. He just got curious. Without scientific training, without a government grant…. he had to know. It’s like riding a harley by an abandoned Anasazi ruin, or an 1850’s cobblestone footing from pioneers you didn’t know about. Or a neon Route 66 sign in a back alley, from a cafe back in it’s heyday. James Cameron, brotha…. I can relate.

He wanted to know the stories, and couldn’t resist the mysteries.

When I was a kid, I used to draw pictures of the titanic as she might look on the bottom of the Atlantic. I even bought a model of her in 1977 when I was 10 and cut her hull with a hot exacto knife so I could imagine how she sank.

Fast forward. Yeah, I’m a fan. There’s lots of history all around you, and you’re not seeing it on a cage, you’re on a bike. Feel the winds they felt, feel the terrain they experienced. Get a little curious, and the world opens up. At least it does for me.

You know what you’ll find? 100 or 1000 years ago, they had the same concerns as us. Staying alive. Worrying about kids. Keeping them safe and providing for them. And they were curious too. I love history.

I’m a James Cameron Fan.

That mean’s riding season.

Bikes have been  hitting the canyon for almost a couple months now.   I don’t miss a single one.   I notice the bike, the helmet, the leathers…. hell, the snow suit.   Been wishing for month’s they were following me down the mountain.     I’d follow them.       I just wish I was riding.

I’m thinking next week.   This is a new climate and new terrain.   Can’t wait to gas up with a fuel pump in one hand, and a hot dog in the other.   Hoping the pump would hurry, so I can keep exploring.   new ground.   Mysteries to figure out.

Very soon.    Pretty sure I was born to do this.    Can’t wait to put it all my blog.

I know I’ve probably posted this before.  I gravitate toward certain youtube songs.   Enjoy!

The rules:

• retro still works.   Somewhere in all of us, at some level, we all want to spend a stretch in Mayberry USA.
• This chick is extremely hot.
• Bro’s before Ho’s.

Where did music like this go? Good blues, old rock…   Songs that go beyond a rave with flash colors and really shallow shock factor.     I gotta think we’re ripe for a music revolution again, where whats common to all of us gets buoyed up and made popular.     Right now, its shallow as fuck and doesn’t go beyond much more than a night club dance scene.     We’ve all lived more than that…

The light of the matter, is this song has been in my head today.    It’s really quite a good song.

it’s spring out there.   Bikers are starting to pull bikes out of the garage and ride places.    There’s riding to do.

You might not be feeling it on the Blues Traveller song I posted.     Kinda ironic, the song might be about that…    Found me some lyrics, googling John Popper.    Rewatch, and read a long.

It doesn’t matter what I say
So long as I sing with inflection
That makes you feel that I’ll convey
Some inner truth of vast reflection
But I’ve said nothing so far
And I can keep it up for as long as it takes
And it don’t matter who you are
If I’m doing my job then it’s your resolve that breaks

Because the hook brings you back
I ain’t tellin’ you no lie
The hook brings you back
On that you can rely

There is something amiss
I am being insincere
In fact I don’t mean any of this
Still my confession draws you near
To confuse the issue I refer
To familiar heroes from long ago
No matter how much Peter loved her
What made the Pan refuse to grow

Was that the hook brings you back
I ain’t tellin’ you no lie
The hook brings you back
On that you can rely

Suck it in suck it in suck it in
If you’re Rin Tin Tin or Anne Boleyn
Make a desperate move or else you’ll win
And then begin
To see
What you’re doing to me this MTV is not for free
It’s so PC it’s killing me
So desperately I sing to thee
Of love
Sure but also rage and hate and pain and fear of self
And I can’t keep these feelings on the shelf
I’ve tried well no in fact I lied
Could be financial suicide but I’ve got too much pride inside
To hide or slide
I’ll do as I’ll decide and let it ride until I’ve died
And only then shall I abide this tide
Of catchy little tunes
Of hip three minute ditties
I wanna bust all your balloons
I wanna burn all of your cities
To the ground I’ve found
I will not mess around
Unless I play then hey
I will go on all day hear what I say
I have a prayer to pray
That’s really all this was
And when I’m feeling stuck and need a buck
I don’t rely on luck because…

The hook brings you back
I ain’t tellin’ you no lie
The hook…
On that you can rely

I’m going here.   its not a matter of if, its a matter of when.

The road alone is worth the ride.   Its 8,000  feet california desert.     The tar snakes on the road look safe at that elevation.

I gotta take my brother Skeezix.    I would love his perspective on this old mining town.    Yeah, I got the fire.   I gotta go.

Ya know?  Life is pretty good.

It’s been a mild winter here by even a desert boys’ standards.   Some days, I feel pretty bulletproof.   Other days, I see the chinks in my armor and even that is good.   Brings me back to center.

I love what I do for a living.   Man, I don’t know why, but I do.

No, thats not true.    I know exactly why I do.     Thats another post, for another day.

But i’m starting to sense spring.    Something to explore out there.    A nap under a tree in a park by a saddled up bike, in a town I don’t know.   I can hear the engine ping as it cools down.   I’m in a whole new neck of the woods, and man, I’m ready to explore it and document it on this blog.   I just need a friday night to get lost, a saturday to get even more lost, and a sunday to figure out the fastest way home.

But its different up here.   The desert proves, and  preserves old things.   Snow, rain and altitude rots structure.   Time will always take its toll, and there’s more time up here between me and this old history.     The ghosts will be different; but maybe a break in the repetition is good for the soul.    I know route 66 like the back of my hand through 3 states.    man, I rode it a lot.  There are nights I see  the old road in my dreams.   Up here,  There’s new trails to plow, and places to know with some intent.    The history up here is a little different.    The desert will educate a less experienced traveler;  back in the day and even these days.  Air conditioners in the 50s and cars with water bags in the 40’s changed what the landscape we’d see to the average man.     it’s not so much the okies up here, its the pioneers.     Maybe its a deeper history.   Hell, I don’t know but circumstances and pins in maps will let me explore it.     Maybe I’ve avoided it.

Either way, I’m ready to re live it.

it’s not like it matters.   A new road is a new road.    Queue the eagles and rubberneck the roadside as it passes through old towns.    Sooner or later history is gonna make make you turn around if you’re in tune, because you can’t miss what you thought you saw a mile back.    Who knows if you go this way again?   To me, thats why I ride.   It’s the old sign, from the guy who put his shingle out to get a little of the money that was passing by his piece of land.   His startup money was neon, his successors;  did they try to recapture it?    Either way, that old, funky neon sign means you have to ride back.   Get a picture.   Feel those ghosts…of another day.   To me, it was a better day.   Ingenuity was rewarded.   Life was simpler.    Honesty was part of hard work.    Thats why I ride.   it’s disintegrating fast.    It’s gotta be drank in, so you can have a piece of it and pass it to your  kids, because if you do it right it will become a part of  you.   A really good part of you.  Reporting it on my blog,   It just feels like my part of the whole deal.

Yah, life is really good.

It’s just a perspective that I can’t get enough of.   It fills my whole soul.    It might be gone forever, and I gotta see it.

I just need a bike to take me there.    Sure as shit, I’ll find it.    Man, I need a bike.   One thats in my garage so I can know.

I will figure this out.

What a great song.   Heard it on the radio up the canyon on the way home and been in my craw.

Wished I could say all the good crap thats happened the last couple of months.   Like, life changing good.

I love my work.   Its to the point I have dreams about it at night, and by 2 AM I’m in the living room on the couch eeking out plans on a sketchpad.   I don’t know what it is, but shit is coming together.    I’d love to tell you how much ass I’ve kicked, but thats just vain and stupid.   I’ll keep it to myself, but man, my competition is pissed.

Seriously, who the fuck cares.

I spent some time yesterday night with my 100 year old grandma.    She’s not doing well, and she’s a strong willed lady without even knowing how strong, or taking much time to care.       She’s raised a family, done the right thing and lives on 1,000 dollars a month for the last 30 years.

Thats the kind of person I honor.

My wife.    My father.   My brothers and sister.     They take care of their own, provide without any famous talents to pimp, and go to work every morning because thats what they know needs to be done.

I honor them.

Whitney houston sang some good songs, and then got hooked on drugs and was an embarrassment to herself.    A tragedy for sure, but all this respect because we loved her song in 1991?

Curt Cobain.   Fuck up.   Michael Jackson, pedophile.   Why does pop culture honor these people?  What does this say about us?   Why the fuck are we paying so much time for someone who did so little when it all counts?

I’m going to work tomorrow.   hope it’s all over soon and we can get back to real news.

Think I’ve got me a solid in a bike.  1999 Road king, faster than the road rage.   Lots to consider, and the deal ain’t done yet, but I got a pretty strong feeling by spring I’ll be on route 66 again, on a harley-davidson.     I think about it every day, let alone every few hours.

Looking forward to spring.    its a whole new ball game up here, so might take me some time to guage a barstow vs a rock springs spring, But i’ll figger it out.    Winter is winter, and anything north of the mojave takes some calculating.     Can’t wait to be back on the road, snapping pictures, figuring out mysteries and reporting from the road.

Life is only good with a safe family from home, a wife that knows why, and a signpost ahead.    Hell, at least for me it is.  I can’t imagine a life without riding.     There’s a new vantage point here, time to see it all.

Goddammit, I can’t wait.