"...Love Me" Redux

Over 220 blog entries ago
In the spring of 2008
I posted my first blog
The title and the link:
"I Will Make You Love Me"

Now, thinking back...
A little more on the subject

When I was ten 

We moved from North Dakota to Pontiac, Michigan
My parents both smoked then

I thought it was a natural thing
For people to do

Our home in Pontiac was near the center of
What was then a mainly blue collar city

Wrapped around automobile manufacturing
With a fairly thriving downtown

Us kids included some cousins and a few other pals there
Our part of town was poor but safe and we roamed free
Free to get in a lot of mischief

We had a hole through a fence at the nearby dairy
We could sneak in at broad daylight and steal
Delicious pint cartons of chocolate milk

We could ride our bikes right downtown
We were probably only a mile away
Not even that
I clearly recall in a department store there...
The smell and look of a brand new white cotton dress shirt
I think it cost around three bucks
And wondering if there would ever be a day
When I would have one of my own

There was a baseball diamond with bleachers
In a park nearby
We would cruise those bleachers after a game
And pick up decent sized cigarette butts
To enjoy later at our leisure
It was even a treat to latch on to a box of wooden matches
To light them with
Over 30 years later, I finally quit

Then my first great discovery of my early 40's
Was the feeling of breathing in a huge gulp of clean air
It was a rush I had totally forgotten over the years
Later, smoke free clothes, homes and cars would become
More evident as well
But that huge gulp of clean air is still amazing to me

I still get a little sad remembering "lap time"
When I would invite my son to sit in my lap
While watching television
Only to excuse him a few minutes later
So I could light one up

I was lucky to have dumped that monkey
Over 20 years ago
As part of rehab for my very unhealthy heart

This morning, as with many mornings,

I was heading for my poker tournament (read "fix")
And I noticed how clear and beautiful the day looked
I most certainly would not have noticed if I had not quit
In fact, I would not be here at all

Killing Their Children

People start killing, people can stop it.

They came from many countries
Across the great water
They needed places for family, food and shelter
We shared, sometimes willingly, sometimes not
For this was our home through many generations

They fought us to attempt genocide
They fought amongst themselves
They formed a government
They wanted rules
To help keep them from arguing, fighting, killing

To help limit their greed, their racism

Their government sometimes
Did good things to bring order
Their government sometimes
Did bad things to bring chaos

Chaos is what they bring today
They are killing their children
In the fields of far off wars
In their schools
In the streets

In despair
I would leave for my original country
But this is my original country

CoNRAgress

Who are these people?
These 100 Americans
We have elected
Charged with providing structure
For our increasingly large, complex society

What are they about?
Themselves... not our children, not us

What have they accomplished?
Exacerbation of all major issues they have faced in recent years
A snarled voting process that confounds observers
Coining a new phrase, "scorched-earth obstructionism"
That characterizes the "Party of No" so well

What are they about?
Nothing... they are about nothing but self aggrandizement

What will be their place in history?
A reputation for pandering to large corporations and the 1%
The face of Democracy, tagged with obscenities
A highly effective death machine for unnecessary wars and killing our children
Masters of the politics of win... not the politics of right and wrong

What are they about?
Mindless prioritization and making the news

Are their Mothers proud of them?
Are the Fathers of our country proud of them?
What about the children of Sandy Hook Elementary School?  Are they proud?

Congressman... Senator...
Lose the damn jacket
Loosen the damn tie
Roll up your freakin' shirt sleeves

Get busy damnit
Act responsibly
Grow up
Give our children the good country they deserve
They need a chance to live

Or maybe we just need to kick your asses out of office...

Zen Moment

A good, overdue by a few days, workout at the gym this morning
After... on a overcast day I sat outside near the pool

Why this photo?
No particular reason other than I love it.

Weather was perfectly comfortable
Stevie Ray Vaughn playing the blues on Pandora
Ear pods cranked up to accommodate my pitiful ears

Fell into a Zen moment while there
Good for a guy who may have been born with rose colored glasses
Song after great song played

"Voodoo Child' by Hendrix
"Turn The Page" by Seeger
"We Will Rock You" by Queen
Its my "ZZ Top" channel
You get the idea

I watched a guy who had to be 90
Sit at pool's edge
Put on giant flippers, a snorkel
And paddle up and down the Olympic length

I thought, "How in the hell did I get here?"

In Ohio, at 15... bald tires in the rain
Rolled a pal's old car off the road into the ditch, thrown out
Barb wire scars from fence there still on my right arm

In Thailand, '69... drove a motorcyle
Pal Randall Craft hanging on the back for dear life
Right through the door less entrance of a Thai bar

Outside Denver...'68
A hard rain... guy in front started swerving all over the road
Hit the gas and slipped around him

In Idaho, '75... a flying  "W"*
Over the dirt bike handle bars
Landing on my back

In Idaho, '75... again
Squadron Commander... I was doing barracks shake down inspection at 5am
Airman opened door for me with shotgun in hand
First Sergeant stepped in between us and diffused it

In Sacramento, '92
"You have 85% blockage of the widowmaker"
(Left coronary artery)

That one made me a 4x CABG vet

In Sacramento again, '97
Another flying  "W"
Over the bicycle handle bars in Eppies Great Race (triathlon)

You get the idea... and there's more, a lot more but I won't tell

So here I am
Close, but no cigar.... butt
At least not yet

Maybe it is to one day see my grandkids
To be with Julieann
To watch my son and daughter discover the world

I don't know why I am still here but I deeply appreciate it
I give thanks to the Great Biker In the Sky

Now I know you all have your own stories like this
Its just my take and I get to write about it
Another thing I am grateful for.

Watch for the book, "Travel On"
Coming to you in 2013
Lord willing and the creek don't rise...

* A "flying W" is the picture a body sort of forms when doing a somersault over the handle bars of a bicycle or  motorcycle or something similar.  Picture the hands still on the grips with the feet up in the air directly overhead while tucked into a rolling position- at that moment there is a vague resemblance to a W.

Personal Assault Drone

"Hey!  What's that thing

that appears to be hovering over your shoulder?"

"It's my assault drone."

"Wow.  Impressive.  How does it work?"

"Well, I control it with the app I have loaded in my iWatch here."

"Interesting.  And what is that thing sticking out the top that looks like a sailfish fin?"

"That's the high-capacity magazine.  Holds 50 rounds of jacketed .357 mags."

"Wow... is it automatic or..."

"Yeah, it will fire all 50 rounds in less than 20 seconds."

"How do you reload it?"

"Pretty simple.  You just hit 'Home" on your iWatch and it immediately attaches itself to this PAD belt I am wearing.  Then I can drop a new mag in it in a couple of seconds."

"PAD?"

"Yea, 'Personal Assault Drone'."

"Why would you want something like that though?"

"Well, let's say I was attacked by a dozen dozen 550 pound Russian boars, or maybe the same number of federal agents.  Maybe even a couple of hundred elementary school kids.  You never know...."

"Round House"

My brother, David Claud William and I are enrolled members of  the
Turtle Mountain Band of the Chippewa Tribe

This means we are at least 1/4 Native American
As defined by the Blood Quantum Laws of the United States

Neither of really have a clue of the significance of that
Not having found out until we were in our 20's
The "Why?" of that is here: 

Chippewa Princess

Yes,  it is likely true that all 30,00 enrolled members

Of the Turtle Mountain Band

Would like to think that their Mothers were princesses

And that is ok - it is a title that fits most mothers 

Without regard to nationality right?!

The point here is

Neither David nor I 

Know of details about day to day life

On a reservation

Or anywhere around a band of Chippewa

So, it is probably natural that curiosity 

Would drive us to books and articles on the subject

We have found there is not much out there

Some (actually very little) history

But nothing that really tells us 

What life was like on a homestead in Montana

During the Depression

Or what life was like on the reservation before that

That is part of what makes a book like 

"Round House" by Louise Erdrich so special

Her book has the gritty ring of authenticity 

That tells me she has been there and knows

And that she has talked to others who know

For more, this link includes a New York Times review that refers

To the book as "Flawed but powerful."

I didn't notice the "flawed" part 

But sure did notice the powerful part

Louise also wraps a story of rape and murder 

Around this that makes me certain it will make a terrific film

And I hope that comes across as a compliment

Thank you Louise... for a great story

And some compelling insight into 

Life on the "res."

Note:  "Round House" is the thirteenth of Louise's novels.  It won the 2012 National Book Award for fiction.

Mass Murder in Oz

"From 1984 to 1996, Australia had over a dozen mass murders by firearms, largely copycat killings prompted by media coverage in the U.S. and in Australia. Unstable people do insane things. After one lone nut gunman killed 35 and wounded 21 people in 1996, the Port Arthur Massacre, Prime Minister John Howard banned all semi-automatic rifles and pump-action shotguns because of the outrage felt by Australian citizens. He introduced highly restrictive gun licensing laws. Hundreds of thousands of guns were purchased from Australian citizens and destroyed.

Do you know how many mass shootings we have had since then? Not one. In addition, firearm homicides have dropped 59% with no corresponding increase in non-firearm murders."

People kill people, not guns? Rubbish. Guns give the mentally ill ruthlessly efficient killing power, and escalate domestic violence from assault to homicide. The U.S. needs to act now, and the gun lobby needs to wake up to its culpability."  
The preceding is an anonymous quote.  

For an explanation read Douglas Cooper's article.

Bushmaster - as used in Newport

And don't forget!...

1. Charlotte
2. Dan 
3. Olivia 
4. Josephine 
5. Ana 
6. Dylan 
7. Madeleine 
8. Catherine 
9. Chase 
10. Jesse 
11. James 
12. Grace 
13. Emilie 
14. Jack 
15. Noah 
16. Caroline 
17. Jessica 
18. Ben 
19. Avielle 
20. Allison

Bird 'Expressions'

Capital Casino Chips
(Yes, more than 30k - from a much better day.)

It all began innocently enough...
I was deeply involved in my usual Sunday poker tournament
At Sacramento's Capital Casino
Julieann had armed me with her typical counsel
Just before leaving home; "Be patient and good luck."

So I spend the first couple of hours practicing patience
As luck was hard to come by
Finally after the second break... in the third hour
I started catching hands

I was soon up to around 30,000 in chips
And was enjoying the momentum
Cards dealt again...maybe 90 hands into the tournament
And I was looking down at pocket Kings

I raised to ten thousand in early position
And a guy to my right, who had more chips than me
Said, "all in."
I called and he flipped pocket Aces
The rest of the cards were dealt and I didn't hit

That's the game... it happens to everyone
I wished everyone "good luck", bowed my head
And retreated to the parking lot
Where I had carefully parked the RedSled
To avoid dings from others

(The "RedSled is a 2002 Corvette with 30,000 miles on it...
Another gift from my tolerant, forgiving Babe of 42+ years)

Blackbirds were fluttering in and out of a tree

RedSled's hood in better days too
With water drops and reflections
No bird expressions

That shaded most of the Sled
And as I approached
I notice that there were a few dozen splats
Of bird crap all over the car

I resigned myself to the fact that
My streak of bad luck had not yet played out
What I mean is I put on my Forrest Gump composure
And accepted the fact that (bird) "S___ happens."

So I  headed to the nearest spray car wash...
It didn't all come off so then I headed home
To work on it some more

I carefully removed the remaining resi-doodoo
And then noticed some patterns remaining on the paint
So I brought out my heavy artillery

"Bug and tar remover" - nope
"Goo-gone" - nope
"Rubbing compound" - sort of...
So I applied 80 strokes per spot (yes I counted for consistency)
Then a final layer of wax

Still - some etching remained - a couple of dozen instances
If you looked at it from the right angle
"Uh-oh"
(perhaps I used stronger words...)
So I Googled it
Asking the almighty god of knowledge
"What to do?"
It said, "clay bar"
I tried it - nope


Note: Along the (Google) way.
I also discovered that Red is the favorite color for 
Birds to 'express' themselves on - go figure.


I am now out of home remedies
So next stop - body shop
To see what I can see about professional buffing
Besides, I dropped a ladder on it not long ago
And put some dings in the hood,
Need a pro to fix that too
But that's another story

Through it all I am still practicing Julie's advice,
At least the "be patient" part.

Cards in the Air!

Load of coffee

A few Google maps

Rental car, full tank

Free weekend

To roam the South

Plot a course

Skirt the Appalachians

North past Manassas

Past Harpers Ferry

To Charles Town, West Virginia

Historical names of substance to stir the curiosity

Through countryside

Horse country – estates large and small

Farm country – corn tall and turning color

Almost ready for harvest

So green… no drought here…

America the beautiful as only it can be

Poker tournament at the Hollywood Casino

Poker room at Charles Town's Hollywood Casino

In Charles Town West Virginia

Plunk down hefty entry fee

Worth it

After all, how many times in life?

Not many casinos out this way either

Players from all walks

Just like the Sacramento bunch

Just like the Harrahs, New Orleans bunch

Just like the Reno bunch

Just like the Beau Rivage Biloxi bunch

“Cards in the air.”*

The signal to get the tournament rolling

Hitting slow, missing draws

Stack whittles down

Finally a double up against an “all-in”

Finally a quarter of us left

Almost at the money “final” table

Stacks and wagers get bigger

Still just hanging in

To eleventh (the famous “bubble”) then tap out

On a bad beat … The cards falling where they may

Five hours of concentration

Tempting chance

Shuffling chips

Squeezing cards

This great restaurant in old town Winchester, Virginia

Comfort on the felt, with the surroundings

The vast majority of players being

By and large good sports

Overnight at Winchester, Virginia

Dinner in old town Winchester

Chanced upon Italian restaurant

The “Violino Restorante Italiano”

All the authentic trappings

Including the all important

Real Italian chef: Franco Stocco
(http://www.violinorestaurant.com)

A truly memorable dinner

I corralled Franco to tell him so

Found out he rides Harley’s too

(He mentioned it after noting my perennial HD t-shirt)

We talked a while…animated

Owner/chef opera singer
and
fellow Harley enthusiast Franco Stocco.

Food and Harleys in common

Plan A was another tournament there

The next day

But it started late

I wanted to leave enough time to get back

To my current gig in Raleigh

Plan B was to take a slow ride

On the Blue Ridge Parkway and thereabouts

A slow ride back

Weather forecast a lot of rain

What would be to see?

Plan C was route back

Through Richmond

Hit a few Harley dealers

Shirt and dealer pin check

Sniff leather, ogle chrome

Get my proverbial fanatic card punched

It was C

Three more pins for my famous corkboard collection

(What will become of that pin packed board in the end?

Who would want it?  Gotta’ quit building it.)

Return through a couple of bouts of hard rain

So hard we were creeping along the freeway

Emergency lights flashing

Finally back in time for dinner

A weekend adventure worth noting?… well, yea.....!

A harvest of great food, pins, chips and memories


*"Cards in the air" is a phrase used by pit bosses and commentators to signal the beginning of tournament play. Another common expression is; "Shuffle up and deal."

HOG Runnin' Sweet...

... as a maraschino cherry.
Sacramento to Reno's
2012 biker event, "Street Vibrations"

Just got off a project in the Carolinas 
So all I could make was the last day

A two hour run
Getting some wrinkles out
Of the Harley and me
After a couple months of inactivity

Partly cloudy, partly overcast day
Perfect riding weather
Not too hot.  Not too cold.

Chaps and jacket for the cold
Over Donner pass
Then lose a layer in the high Sierra Nevada desert
That envelops Reno

Reno area has three major vendor exhibit areas
Reno Harley Davidson dealer "Chester's": A mile or so out of town
Sparks, Nevada:  A couple miles out near the Nugget casino
Downtown Reno:  Main drag, Virginia Street
Closed off for foot traffic, booths, tractor/trailers
And a visitor from Sacramento

There are a lot of people here for the last day, a Sunday
No sign of the recession I am thinking
Judging from experience at this event over the years

Silver Legacy - replica of full working mine
inside that dome

Got a good, cheap room at the Silver Legacy for the night
So I have plenty of time to rubberneck
Accompanied by a fine stogie
Enjoying the great weather
All the chrome and leather eye candy
The outdoor bands
And some of the great junk food

Later, I join the players
Mostly locals
For a friendly Texas Hold'em game
At the El Dorado casino next to the Legacy

There is an elder gentleman (no, not me)
Who is there every time I attend
A fine silver mane
A lean figure
Who dresses in shirt, slacks and sportcoat
With just a little bling, a small cross on chain
Worn outside mock turtle

I always compliment him
As consistently the best dressed poker player
I have come across

I stick in the game a few hours
And finally quit when I am a few bucks ahead
He compliments me; "You are a good player."
I return the compliment.

Next day back to Sacramento
Via the longer but more scenic way

Highway 50 sweepers near Spooner summit

Through Carson City and Lake Tahoe

I have written before about the
Thirty or so mile run between those two towns
Half of it includes a stretch of long, gentle curves "Sweepers" up the mountain
To Spooner's summit
Speed limit there is "50"
That is for cars though

On a big Harley bagger it is very comfortable at 70
Tucking those handle bars inside each corner
Matching the natural rhythm the mountain offers
It unfolds as a ballet between rock, metal, pavement and man
The music that ties it being the bagger's pipes
We all work it together

Winning Losing

He emerged slowly, without a sound.  First his hair, smoothly through the water... next his forehead, then his ears and finally his eyes and nose.  He kept his lips below the water line and, moving gently so as to not cause a ripple, he scanned the horizon.  His prey was just 20 feet away... anxious, splashing, nervously looking ahead then back over his shoulder.  He lifted the gun just as quietly above the water's surface, took careful aim and fired.  The missile struck directly above his victim's fourth rib on the left side.  It was a fatal blow.

Smack!  Sonny's side immediately turned bright red as the inner tube band hit.  He knew he was a goner then and there.  He hit the water with an open hand, sending a spray toward his opponent and shouted; "*Motherfucker! You snuck up on me again!"
*Neither quite knew what the word meant then... just that is was a way adults expressed shock or something...

He stood up then, six years old, grinning while quietly reloading his rubber gun just in case Sonny suddenly decided he wasn't dead after all.

Rubber gun - much like they used to make them back in the day. 

That was how the game was played in the shallow North Dakota sloughs among the cattails.  One would 'shoot' the other and a decision would be made as to whether the shot was fatal.  There would of course, very often be arguments on either side.  It was played that way in the corn fields and yards too.

Thinking.  Thinking of ways to win. He loved to compete no matter where, no matter when.

***

"Eleven ball, corner pocket."  His much older opponent attempted a fairly difficult bank shot in an effort to carry out his call.  Cue stick struck cue ball and it sent the eleven ball on its mission. The eleven appeared straight in as it came off the rail at an angle. Then as it reached the corner it caught the rail ever so slightly and caromed across the lip of the pocket, coming to rest just a quarter inch away.

He was sixteen years old, a Junior in high school and "majoring" in billiards.  He was  five balls down in the game and five bucks down on the match.  He picked up the house cue, caught his rhythm, set his smooth stroke and practiced eye then went to work. Six shots later, the eight ball was in the pocket and his opponent was out a sawbuck on the double down bet.

"Motherfucker!  Where did you learn to run off the table like that?"

He grinned and pocketed the sawbuck.  "It felt good that run.  Just found the sweet spot I guess..."

God he loved it.  Stepping into competition, adrenalin putting all his senses in high gear.

***

Years later.... Lajes Field, the Azores, Portugal.  Air Force Base fast pitch softball championship game.  It was 1-1 in extra innings. Opposing team had a runner on third.  He was 19 years old, in right field, playing ball on a gorgeous night in the islands.  He was pumped... every time he saw his pitcher go into his windmill wind up he stopped breathing and every fiber of his body went into full alert.  

All of a sudden the right-handed batter hit a short opposite field line drive right at him.  He was instantly running at full speed in an attempt to intercept the ball before it hit.  It was literally at his feet and he had both hands down near his shoelaces... the ball hit his bare left hand and slid to the ground.  The runner scored.  Game over.  Potential hero to actual zero in a heartbeat.

He would come back though.  That's the thing about loving to compete.  Losing most often just deepens your resolve to win.  "Next time, Motherfucker!"