Things have been moving so fast lately.  Seems that our lives, Belinda and I, have been moving on a fast pace.  There never seems to be enought time to really relax.  Two weeks ago she took the motorcycle safety course here in Mobile at the Harley dealership.  She was so pumped and excited.  So proud that she was able to do something that she never really thought was possible for her.

Within less than one week of passing the course, she started looking at motorcycles, making herself known at all the local dealers.  Then it happened.  She found a bike built for her, one that screamed at her that this was the bike that would pull her in and make her an addict.  An adrenaline addict.  A junkie of the worst kind.
She purchased her first bike.

After trying to convince her to look at the 650's and 750cc bikes, she picked a Vulcan 900.  Such a wonderful bike, I really like it.

So the past two weeks have been wild.  Every minute we have together, we have been practicing.  I get home from work and she is all dressed in jeans and ready to go.  We started out by puttering around the neighborhood.  Then we worked our way down Girby road, to Cranford Burns Middle School, the greatest vehicle training grounds in Mobile.  Each day we have ventured out a little more.

Today, we went down 90, up Three Notch, Hillcrest, Cottage Hill and back home.  She is doing great.  I set the pace and she kept up and held her position well.  I am so proud and happy for her.  I have to be the calm one, for she is so excited, so full of adventure.  This is "our" hobby.  One I hope we will share for  years.

Another day of playing the puppet today.  Doing my dance, talking my talk, doing as my puppeteer commands.  But today, was unusual, different from others.  This was the day where I really noticed that nothing is new, nothing is challenging.  I watched everyone around me today and noticed that they were all doing the same thing.  Dancing their dance on the strings.

Doing what they must do to have another day outside the box.

Doing what has to be done to allow a return appearance.

Dancing the dance that must be done to surive in our regimented puppet world.

How many times in life do we ever get a chance to cut the strings, even if only for a day, to do anything outside what is the sick twisted routines that we are required to do each and every day.  We work, we talk, we say the same old things over and over.  We tell the same stories. 

Where are the freed puppets?  Where are the ones that have found excitement outside of our routines?  Is a man sailing a boat, challenging the water and wind, one who is free?  What may be freedom for one, may be work for another.

Is the woman who jumps from a plane, falling to the earth, seeing the world rushing up at her, as she hopes her parachute opens a free person?  Feeling life as unrestrained, on another level from all the puppets below her?

It seems for each of us that our challenge is to find how to cut the strings.  How to find the the rush of challenging life, or discovering something, anything that is new to enhance or improve what we fail to have. 

What is the freedom that you seek?  What is it that will take each of us to the level that we seek? 

Name your scissors......

Here it is....the two minute catch up.

My son Brandon....growing, hooked on video games, making outstanding grades, loves his family, just a happy kid

Jessica....11 years old, a day short of being a teen, lil miss priss

Leigh Ann....the straight A student at the mighty University of Alabama, well rounded, captain of the university row team, more than I ever deserved

Krista....graduated UAB this month, on her way to her new career, leading in life by example, smart and level headed about life, making me proud

Belinda, my wife....I love her more today than I did yesterday, and yesterday was better than the day before....and so on

The Beast, my ride to freedom and personal expression....still running strong, though I now talk to it before and while I ride, needs new pics made, it is still growing over time

Work....self defined

My Life....I give it a 10

Your Life....I give it a 10, let me know if I can help

Amazing how the blogs work.  You work like crazy to compose thoughts for others to read, hoping that somehow you hold their interests.  Then you start to slow down.  The well gets low, you have nothing left to say.  You visit a few of the old sites that you used to frequent, just to check up on everyone, then you stop altogether. 

So today, six months later, I took a look again.  I went to view my own site and it's amazing to be able to go back and try to understand my frame of mind at certain points in time.  I finally got it today, the blogs are moments in time, a picture drawn by me, of life at that point in my life. 

I can actually be on the outside with everyone else, and take a view at who I am.  I wasn't prepared for this, me being one who hates mirrors.  So once again, I will spend some time here and see there time takes me.

I only wish that you had more time to give to me.

As hard as it is to believe, I have been so busy with my new assignment at work that I have no clue as to what is going on in the world around me.  News, events, sports, social news, or anything that may be happening beyond the scope of my ship is unknown to me. 

The Monday before Christmas I was reassigned closer to home.  For the first time in over ten years, I am now working less than ten minutes from home.  Being a captain in retail, I have always had to drive over an hour to board each ship that I captained.  My latest move is both overwhelming and humbling at the same time.  I captain a ship with over 600 great associates in a building that is over 225,000 sq ft.  I feel like the captain of the largest cargo carrier on the seas.  We have over 120,000 visitors a week.  I am responsible to all on board.  My soul mission to make all around me happy, productive and wanting to come back. 

Looking back, I started as a deck hand, doing as told, not knowing the goals.  Over time I was sucked in and began to make a living from it, taking more responsibility along the way.   Never, at any point in time, did I think that one day I would have the honor to captain the largest boat on the seas. 

Thirty one years later and here I stand.  Life is good, my professional dreams have come true.  Was I in the right place at the right time, did I really stand out over time, was I some compulsive nut forever stuck in overdrive?  I don't know, I haven't a clue, I don't know what drove me.  I just wanted to be the best, to be respected, to grow as a person.  I will forever be humble and work to help others who have dreams.

Yesterday I promised Belinda that I would stay off my machine today.  Rode it twice yesterday, and put it away last night.  I woke up this morning and I could feel it.  It was calling me.  Pulling me towards the storage shed, or what I refer to as my motorcycle garage.  I kept looking out the window at the shed, listening, feeling it's pull. 

In order to keep my promise, I stayed inside and dared not go outside.  Somehow, I spent about an hour on the internet reading about what else, but VStars and modification techniques.  My fix was almost there.

I later took my wonderful wife and son to lunch at Ruby Tuesdays.  Then it happened.  As we sat looking out the window, two beautiful bikes rode by.  Then a group of about fifteen riders stop in front of the restaurant at the traffic light.  I was a prisoner inside the building, looking like a child watching his friends play in the yard through a window, knowing he can't join them.  I tried not to study them too much, knowing Belinda was surely studying me.

On the way home, the rainstorms that had been threatening all day, finally moved in.  I was relieved, because I knew that when I got home, I would have to enter the shed.  Which, of course, would lead me to giving in and going riding.  The rain saved me.  Maybe saved my marriage for the day in some small manner.

After being home in the rain, Belinda decided we should get out of the house and go check out the flea market.  But I was on a mission, a mission based on madness.  I had to buy something for my bike.   I struck gold at the flea market.  I found new stickers for my helmet.   How can a biker have a helmet without stickers.  Belinda even helped me pick them out.  I spent a whopping $2.25 for a fix.  One that we both agreed on. 

My new sticker.....

Why a motorcycle? 

So many people ask me that.  So many people tell me of someone they knew who had a wreck or lost a life. 

Why a motorcycle?

I can't really explain it.  I admit that it can scare me at times.  Seven hundred pounds of metal and plastic, with a fragile human body on top, going at speeds that would crush both given an impact with anything that may enter its path.

How do I explain it?  The best answer I can give is the rush.  The adrenaline rush.  Even explaining that feeling is hard to understand.  It is freedom as I ride.  Being in nature, not in a box looking at it.  It is the feeling of harnessing a power that I know can be destructive.  Harnessing a machine that comes alive when asked.  It is both nimble and fast on demand.  It is responsive to all of my needs.  The bike and I blend in to one.  We have become a character that we share.  We become an image and sound that others both admire and despise. 

I look down at the tank and it sways when I lean.  The fun of pushing an arm out and feeling the bike lean.  I listen to it purr when cruising, I hear it roar when I give it fuel, and I feel it growl when I find that spot in between where it commands attention. 

The rush stays with me each minute while I ride.  I sing out loud as I ride down the roads.  I scream like a mad man.  No one can hear me.  When it is time to go home, I usually find myself taking a few extra miles around the town before pulling into the neighborhood, playing with the sound through traffic.  Growling on command.  I command the road.

When I finally do force myself to pull into my driveway and turn it off, the rush is still with me, the rumble, the power.  It slowly leaves and I find that I am more relaxed than at any other time in my other days.  Even at night, I sleep better, relaxed, at peace. 

Why a motorcycle? 

It is a new me.

I am one of those that hate being given ultimatums.  I hate the pressure found from living the "do it or else" life style.  I can't tolerate it at work and hope I foster the atmosphere where that doesn't have to happen. 

Have you ever had special person in your life that asks questions, seeking your input, always ending the question the phrase that makes my skin crawl, "or what"?

While relaxing, catching up with the news and finally getting to sit down for the day,
Special person...."are you going to eat with us, or what"?

After getting all of my tools layed out next to my motorcycle for some needed attention,
Special person...."are you going to clean the yard, or what"?

While watching an entertaining documentary, almost in a trance state,
Special person...."are you watching that show, or what"?

While pulling out of the driveway on a mission to shop,
Special person...."are we going to eat lunch, or what"?

....or what, or what, or what!!!

Do it or else!

Then again, that's makes her special, the one I serve.

Love.

Life.

Ok, so it's been a long time since I have visited this friendly place.  I have no doubt many of the links on this page are long forgotten, probably broken.  I hope to find some of the fine people I admired once again.  I have to admit though, I have missed writing.  I have missed challenging myself to explore what is important to me and working with myself on discovering who I am, how weak I am, and how misguided I tend to be at times. 

My life hasn't changed much.  It continues to move along, continues to get better.  My children are all growing, changing, making me proud.  I love each of them with all that I am.  My wife, Belinda, my love for her growing stronger with the passing of time.  She really works so hard to make life work for us.  I respect all that she does and the woman that she is.

As I type away, I wonder what I will find to write over the next few days.  Will I surrender to laziness again or will I once again wild and open, writing at a frenzied pace?  We shall see ove r the next few weeks.  There is so much for me to unload, so much for me to observe.  I like using this mirror. 

I wonder the image my reflection offers.