Honeys Out of My League

I slipped out of my comfort zone last fall and found myself parting the foliage in the interior of the island of St Lucia in the Caribbean. Man, you talk about finding paradise. I’m not talking about the landscape either. Check out this young sweetie that I found and ran my game on, is she fine or what? I guess she didn’t have anything better to do, but I like to think it was my rugged good looks and abundant charm that won her over. The old man’s still got it (when the competition’s low).

Ah, I’ll fess up. I actually knew the young lady before we posed for this photo. The fact is, today we’ve been married for 31 years. Every single day of which has been paradise.

Pont of interest: the waterfall in the background of this picture is the one they filmed Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner sliding down in the “Romancing the Stone” movie. Don’t my Tammy look like a movie star too?

Now where did that come from?

Manure: In the 16th and 17th centuries, everything had to be transported by ship and it was also before commercial fertilizer's invention, so large shipments of manure were common. It was shipped dry, because in dry form it weighed a lot less than when wet, but onc e water (at sea) hit it, it not only became heavier, but the process of fermentation began again, of which a by product is methane gas. As the stuff was stored below decks in bundles you can see what could (and did) happen. Methane began to build up below decks and the first time someone came below at night with a lantern, BOOOOM! Several ships were destroyed in this manner before it was determined just what was happening. After that, the bundles of manure were always stamped with the term "Ship High In Transit" on them, which meant for the sailors to stow it high enough off the lower decks so that any water that came into the hold would not touch this volatile cargo and start the production of methane. Thus evolved the term "S.H.I.T " , (Ship High In Transport) which has come down through the centuries and is in use to this very day. You probably did not know the true history of this word. Neither did I. I had always thought it was a golf term.

Go DevilRains...or DevilRods.. or Raps...DevilForks? Whatever!

Well, I'm off in LALA land. St Petersburg FL to be exact. Down here for a few days to visit my little girl and to watch her walk the grad line at the college she's spent the last 4 years at. I wanted to pull all the stops and show her a good time, so I pulled some strings and got tickets for all of us to see the DevilRays take on the Mariners. Honestly, the Rays are sturggling and some guy offered me 5 bucks to fill some seats, but the family doesn't have to kow that, right? As it turned out, I had the best seat in the house and the picture above is proof of that. More on the trip later, stay tuned.

Will Ferrell and the Landlord

Will Ferrell fan or not, this is way too funny. Check this short video:

The Landlord.

Picking and moaning

I've had an old Montaya guitar, a knockoff of the very excellant Martin D28. It always seemed to have a good sound and I'd been trying to play it since buying it in 1983. First year, I took lessons once a week and learned to read music a little and could pick out some short random tunes. It was not what I signed up for and bored to tears, dropped the lessons and shortly after, hid the guitar in the closet. It was guys sitting around playing and singing that had me going then and it took a while to find some, but it's guys picking around a fire that's got me hooked again. Good players, who know how bad I suck, but encourage me anyway. I've bought a few peices to play with, but the honest truth is that none fit nearly as well as the old Montaya does. I have no high priced intruments. The triple stand is holding on the right, the old Montaya, on the left is a Ovation BlackViper - hollow body electric, and in back is my beat up Taylor Big Baby. The one encased on the floor is a Martin D15 Custom I just picked up. It's nearly new, too new in fact. I'm going to have to get Peewee up here to stretch the strings a little, while maybe Malcolm strokes my Taylor. Charlie and Cpt Dick can beat on the ovation, while we all drink spring water. That'd be alright. How about it, who's in?

Labrador Couch (in classic black)

This is Annabelle telling Abby a secret. Probably something derogatory about the cat, who has been known to join the ladies in sitting out in the sun on old Jake’s back. Jake is truly the most good-natured creature walking this earth and will lay unmoving for as long as the others want to warm their asses. He’s getting old and I’m getting heavier everyday, so I mostly just sit in chair when I join them on the porch. Now, there’s a good boy.

He Got That Deer-In-The-Headlight Look

A couple of years ago (when he reached the magic age of self-reliant mobility), I passed down my trusty old GMC pickup to the boy. He was 16 and the truck was just 10, so we all agreed it was a pretty good fit. He was really proud of it too; spending his own money to buy shiny new wheels, custom lights, fancy stereo equipment and what-not. This morning as he was coming home from a parts-store run for me, he had an unfortunate run-in with Kamikaze Deer that was obviously all cranked up on green road-side grass. The encounter was tough on all concerned

Amazing Ukulele Performance

For any of you who are music lovers, I'll offer this link to an impressive performance on a ukulele (of all things). This guy didn't learn to play watching Don Ho. Check it out:

http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=b165b79e80767f89ad515fcb3a992c3d.1701490&fr=yvmtf

Hunting, Not Finding

I do a little duck hunting every year, but my enthusiasm for the sport is waning. Nowadays I mostly leave it to the youngsters who really don’t need me to lead them a field anymore. A while back, a friend of mine asked me to pony-up for a guided hunt at nearby Fullers Hill. Usually a very successful operation, but things are a little slow everywhere this year. The night before we’re to hunt, he sees the boy and tells him there’s a cancellation, so why not join us. GREAT, I pay twice! Well, we go and make a day of it, standing with only our heads sticking out of the ground in a pit up on a hill over-looking the wildlife refuge from dark to dark. Turns out the wind is wrong, and the water is right elsewhere and we end up barely firing a shot. Still, we see a lot of wildlife, including a Bald Eagle that flew around us most of the day. I guess in some places he’d need to worry about getting shot, but most of us knew that Eagle tastes too much like Owl to be good to eat. So we talked a lot, ate some fine gumbo and had a good day after all. It had been a long time since I’ve had the boy to myself for that many hours in a row. That made it worth the money, for me.

Home For the Holidays

My little girl came home from school during the Christmas and New Years Holidays. It was great having her here for a while. A few days after Christmas, her fella paid us a visit. He stayed for a week and I got to say, it was a little weird. I gave him every chance to do something to piss me off, but you know what? He never did. I'll have to admit, he's a pretty good lad. Course not good enough for my little girl, but.........well, not too bad. City boy, for sure! They wanted to get out for some air, so I fires up the old river-runner and away we went. I says, "you wanta drive this thing" The shot above is him (and her) just before he asks about the brake location. I tell him it all Flintstone style in this rig. Nobody gets my jokes..........

IT LIVES!!!

Finally got the wife's Passport all pimped out and running right. Time for the big moment, so I gathered all the kids, ran off the dogs, and with fire hose in hand it was "Ladies, Start Your Engines". Five minutes later, she screams "Helmets is for sissys" and commences to speedshifting her way around the yard. It'll be hard keeping her down on the farm now...........

"Be My Motorcycle Momma and We'll See the World On My Honda"

Tammy (my wife of 30 years) has spent a considerable amount of time riding on the back of my old Harleys and even more time watching me as I rode away alone. She's never had any desire to pilot her on ride. Her one try took place some 25 years ago when I talked her into climbing onboard my trusty old TL125 for a quick spin around the field in front of our house. She started out riding directly toward the one corner where something other than wide-open space prevailed and ran smack into a stack of concrete blocks. The resulting pile-up was enough to convince her that riding on her own was not in the cards. She has maintained this stance through the course of years and my infrequent attempts to change her mind have proven unsuccessful. In the last couple of years, she's made the trip with the boy and me as we traveled to trials events here and there and seems to enjoy it. She's taken to teasing him that now that he's gone off to school, she was going to fill the gap by learning to ride his Sherco. Well, I'm thinking that if this were ever to happen, the result would likely be hard on her, the motorcycle, and any innocent, by-standing concrete blocks that happen to be in the vicinity. Nope, she needs to start smaller and with that in mind, I took a chance on this 1981 Honda Passport. No clutch, electric start, and a top speed of 45mph. Today is her birthday and after the cake was cut, I led her to the garage where her new steed awaited. She loves it and swears she'll ride it, just as soon as it warms up some. I sure hope that doesn't translate into "when hell freezes over". Ain't they a peach!

Year End, Year Out

Had a great weekend, riding in the last ITSA event of the year and the first one for next year. I had some trouble with my ride and ended up riding most of the time on the Yamaha. I didn't do very well, but had fun anyway. More on the weekend latter, but I did want to offer big congrats to Peewee for his come from behind win in the year-end championship and his move up into the next class. He made the move Sunday and from what I saw, did pretty good for himself. Here he is making a tough section look easy. Good job.

The Ballad of Ernest T

Man, I had a great time this last Saturday. It was the next round of the ITSA trials series, held at LEOR in Marion IL. It was also the last round of the Midwest AHRMA series, which just means that there were that many more fine riders and friendly faces around. I was proud of the crew for their collective performance. The Guru, Peewee, Cpt Dick, Bruce, Mike, Nub, and Malcolm all placing in the money (so to speak). Tony and the gang from Midwest treated everyone to a banquet after the event, with some cool awards, door prizes, and great food. Between riding and eating, I wandered over to where the Captain, Malcolm and some others were holding court around a fire built in a big truck wheel. It wasn't long before Malcolm brought out his Big Baby Taylor guitar and proceeded to entertain us for an hour or so. It was great. I'd managed to miss all other previous occasions when Peewee, Malcolm and others joined voices to serenade the stars and each other, so I found it a real treat. The bearded wonder has some Mad Skills as a picker and singer, and also as a songwriter. If you ever get a chance to hear is original "Ballad of Ernest T", you'll be so excided you'll likely throw a brick through a winder! Too Cool.

Hurrying through life

The boy and I made a little run to the Trials Training Center this weekend, to partake in round 7 & 8 of the STRAs Championship series. I really considered traveling to Birmingham for the AHRMA National event taking place there on Saturday. My old buds from BJRacing were there setting up, so I knew I could count on some inside infor…. Ur, I mean some well thought-out trials obstacles. The MITA guys were also having a modern event to the north, but I gave the choice to the boy and he elected to go hard and fast (the night before, that is). He also wanted to ride his Sherco, claiming an absence of too long from its saddle. Never mind that it ain’t got no saddle, or even a seat. I really think he believed he’d put on enough pounds to take the old man if we were both mounted evenly. I had my doubts about that, so I gave in to his direction of choice. We only rode one day (the boy’s social life calling) and I got to admit, he had me on the ropes but good through two rounds. But just like a young George Forman found out when he let Ali off the ropes after 8 rounds of pounding him; never count the win while your opponent is still standing. I won’t get into details, but suffice it to say that I pulled out all the stops and took him by 2 points in the end. He rode consistent all day (4 loops, with a 15, a 16, a 14 and another 15) and I’m proud of him. He’ll get me soon, for sure. But then again, maybe not real soon after all. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee…”

We Ride Again!

Well, another ITSA trials event finally rolled around and not a moment too soon, I'd about forgot what the smell of two-stoke oil, helmet sweat, and dust smelled like. The scene was the Ranch in Dickson, with a whole bunch of riders competing for either ITSA, AHRMA, or STRA series points. Vintage bikes ruling the day, everything from mid-80s Fantics to rigid framed monsters made in the 1940s. I had a good time Saturday, but Sunday was a hoot! I love the single-line Scottish format, even if it doesn't particularly like me. Ah, I had a chance to clean the third loop Sunday but alas, it wasn't meant to be. I dropped three points as fast as was possible while making one single turn that shouldn't have been a big problem. Didn't mean much in the big picture, I'd already had my feet on the ground enough to have walked the loop twice. I rode in a group of really great guys, who pushed each other to do well, while not making it a matter of life or death. Clay and I were separated, but I had brother Joe with me all day and that was cool. That rascal hadn't set astride his old Yamaha in what must have been a year and still he beat the crap out of me. He would have beaten everyone else on Sunday, except he stopped in the easiest section of the trial with his axle about 2 inches from the end marker (or less). No explaining it, just a brain-fart and it's not like it meant the whole day sucked. Naw, it's a great day when old guys like me can spend the day playing like kids and laughing like idiots (Sweet).

Hanging Out With the Locals - San Juan

I missed the last ITSA trials event. I had previous plans to take the little lady on a long over-due vacation. We had a good time, but I often found myself Hot and Tired. Maybe more on this trip later, but man I saw some prime trials riding spots. The "I" in ITSA is for "International", right?

We'll leave in a Minute!!

Milestone at our place last Wednesday, the boy packed all (or, rather some) of his stuff and migrated west. Yes sir, ready to give it "that old college try". His sister is in from college for a few days and so we made it a whole family thing. She flies back to Florida Sunday, then I guess the nest will be officially empty. Kinda tough on an old man, I'll tell ya. The boy's just a couple hours away, but I suspect his laundry will have to get pretty rank before we get him back to the farm. Maybe he'll get hungry once in a while, or want to visit the dog or something. Heck, he may want to come back occasionally just to see if he's grown enough to make another mark on the wall by the refrigerator. Me, I think I'm shrinking, or it could just be that the world's getting bigger. Time (like kids) march on.

Day at the ranch

Along about the last weekend in May, I joined some of my ITSA brethren for a day of riding over at the Guru's ranch. I got a couple of shots of the continuing effort at the mastering of the dreaded creek/log section that seems to plague a lot of us. Here's old Nubbie breathing easy on the flat transition area between the logs (urged on by the ignominious Skatetruck), and the other has Old Mennonite Mike showing off his new exhaust system in the same area. I never seem to ride well around these guys, but still have the best time. What's up with that? Maybe it speaks to my ability (or inability) as a rider, that I can't do very well if I'm distracted by enjoyment. Or maybe it's that when I'm with these guys, there doesn't seem to be that constant blanket of competitiveness that I feel in other environments. Or maybe it's just the beer. Whatever, I'd do it everyday if I could.

Honeys, Out of His League

Been a while since I posted anything, so I took a few minutes this morning to scan through some digital photos for inspiration. I have this whole folder of shots from Clay's prom adventure and since it appeared to be an especially good evening for him, I thought a nod to that happy time might be in order. So here he is, loading up his sweetie for the trip uptown. Of all the pictures I have from that event, this seemed to me to be the best. It's a good shot of the pretty girl and the slick car, while also capturing his best side. Too bad though, you can't see his pink shirt from this angle. Anyway,way to go kid.