Passion Rekindled

"She was a beauty all right." Jake said to Trevor over a cup of coffee.
Trevor rolled his cup between his palms while looking down into the liquid as it swirled.


"I have to find her. I just can't go on without knowing where she might be."

"Well we have us a good tip so just don't give up hope just yet." Jake told him.

"Never find another like her, you know. We have been through hell and high water and she was always there for me. You wait and search a long time for just the right one and when that one comes along you just know it. Ya don't even have to say anything, ya just know."
Trevor was looking out of the window thinking about all the good times he'd had with her. It was an overcast day that matched his feelings of loneliness and despair. The waitress came over and warmed their cups but Trevor never even looked at her as Jake thanked her.
Jake sat looking at his friend feeling how he felt and hoping he could find the right words to make it better for him. He'd had his close calls himself but had been lucky not to lose his girl to somebody else. Jake got up from the table just as his cell phone went off while he made his way to the restroom.
After a few minutes Jake came back and knocked on the table top to wake Trevor from his trance like gaze out of the window. He'd never in all his years seen his friend so quiet and down.

Trevor gave a look over towards Jake who was standing beside the table as he flopped down a few bills for the meal.
"Got a little tip about your girl Trev. Wanna lets take a ride and have us a look?"

Trevor perked up a little at the prospect of the chance to get her back and at home where she belonged. Jake and Trevor had searched all the usual haunts for her around town. All the places they always went together, bars, restaurants, stores you name it, they'd looked for her there. They had even gone to local strip joints thinking she could be around even though it was a long shot. Trevor was desperate in the searching for his girl. He was lost and incomplete without her and he knew it. The picture he had out of the two of them on their last vacation to the beach, both of them looking so good together and him smiling a huge smile, was carefully slipped back in his pocket.

"Lets go have us a hopeless look. She might be better off where she's at then with me." Trevor said slowly getting to his feet.

"Man, get a grip will ya. Sometimes these things just happen no matter how much you try to watch over and care for them. It just happens sometimes but just don't lose all hope."

The two men got in the truck and headed off to a middle class neighborhood. Trevor knew he'd had no choice and neither had she. Money had been tight with all the job losses and he had not been able to give her all of the things she needed as before. But he had done the best he could but it just wasn't enough. Perhaps he should quit looking and just let her have the better life it seemed she may have found. Trevor was at the point of just letting her go and try and move on. Maybe another would come into his life and with time he'd forget all about her knowing she was in a better situation.

They pulled up to a nice brick home in a middle class section. It was a much better place than the Mobile home in the woods Trevor and she had lived for several years. The grass was green and the place well kept. There was a Mercedes in the driveway and a Bass boat parked beside the garage. It was a happy place anyone could be comfortable living. Trevor just knew that his girl was being much better treated here, she must be.
Jake turned off the engine and spoke to Trevor.

"What do ya say man? You want to go and have a look? See if she's here? At least you'd know."

"Let's do this and get it over with. If it isn't her, then I'll just have to quit looking and move on. I'm just to tired of wondering about her and how she's being treated."

A teenager came to the door. "Are you Jake"? He asked looking at the Medium built man with short hair and Long mustache standing on the porch.

"Yes. I'm Jake and this here sad lookin old mule is Trevor. Is she here?"

Trevor felt a slight twinge of excitement at the possibility of finally finding her but also a bit of uneasiness of whether he would be able to take her back home. How was she, how had she been, how would she look in his eyes now after weeks of worry and wondering of her whereabouts? All of these and other questions went flying through his mind like a whirlwind.

"Shes around back by the pool." The youngster told them. "Go around the side and you'll see her. I'll go out the back way and put the dog up."

Jake and Trevor headed around the home and reaching the fence could see her. She was lying in the narrow patch of grass between the pool and the fence.
"Was it her?" Trevor thought to himself. It looked like her but he needed a better look as she was half hidden behind a chase lounge.

The boy came around and opened up the gate. Jake and the boy were talking but Trevor didn't hear a word. He was walking carefully and slowly with the anticipation of both joy and yet another let down. If it was her and he got her back home things would be different this time. He had a better job now, she'd have everything she needed and he would never ever let her suffer through as she had done so faithfully before. If he had to go without eating for a week so she could have what she needed so be it. If it took him staying home from the bars to save the beer money because she needed those funds she'd have it. Never again would she have to go without anything. He would put her first because without her he knew he was nothing, nothing at all. She was who he was and she completed him.

He made it over to her as Jake and the boy came up beside him. Trevor almost began to tremble. It was her in all her beauty lying there in the grass. The sun had begun to shine and small birds were chirping nearby. Jake too knew her by sight, after all he'd known her almost as long as he had known Trevor. She looked so peaceful in the grass by the pool. Such a wonderful sight to behold.

"Ahhh, just look at her Jake. Look at her curves and shape. So much better than I remembered." He said in a whisper like tone. He was smiling at her as he knew from the feeling that he'd had all those years before that she was still the one, the only one for him.

"Here, let me help you get her up there Trev. You look a little weak in the knees."

"So, it's her?" Asked the boy.

Almost laughing Trevor looked at the boy. "Oh yea man, it is her, it sure as hell is her."

They all helped her get upright from her spot on the ground and brushed her off. She gave a slight moan as they began to get her back to the truck for the long ride home. Even with her short comings and blemishes she looked so damn good to Trevor.

"I'll never pawn you again baby. No matter how bad it all gets, I'll never ever let you out of my sight again...ever." Trevor said as he patted her Tank while Jake tightened the straps to her handlebars. His shovelhead was back in his life now, he felt a great many more years in store for them only this time she'd be well taken care of.

"Lets get her on home Trev and get her back in shape." Jake told his friend.

"She deserves much better." Trevor spoke with a familiar but long awaited cheerfulness to his friend. His passion had been rekindled and this time it'd be different, much different.

"Well my old friend, sometimes it takes a near miss to realise what we have."

The boy stood counting his money while the two men drove away with their reclaimed pawnshop prize.

FALL RIDE

Tried to get a fall ride in over the weekend but the old girl was being a hard case. It was a pretty windy and cold day and the oil being thick was taxing the starter. She fought me the whole time. I've heard an old trick from scooter tramps when on the road was to take and drain some of the oil from the tank into an old coffee to heat by the camp fire. Then pour that in all nice and warm and they'll crank up easier. But being I'm at home I can use the old light bulb trouble light on the oil tank to help with this. Or i can get one of those aircraft sump/block warmers that work in extreme cold. Guess I really need to rebuild that original carburetor and trash the one that is on it. So that is the attack plan folks. Now where can I get new parts for the original carb...hmmm.

"Was he a bad man?"
"It all depends on how ya look at it boy." The old man tapped his pipe out on the rock hearth. Then poked at the fire before repacking more tobacco in the bowl.

"They said he was mean."

"Could be when provoked."

"He was a scooter tramp to."

"This was true."

"Pop went to jail more than once."

"That I can't deny." The old man stuck a stick into the orange coals of the fire place and used it to relight his pipe. The tobacco had a sweet smell of black cherry that permeated the air. He tugged on the pipe a few times letting the smoke out in quick bursts. The chair he was sitting rocked back onto it's back legs as he leaned against the log cabins wall. The flames made shadows dance in the room as if it where alive and the firelight flickered when a log popped and crackled.

"Why did Pop leave us like he did? I know he missed Mom but didn't he love me anymore?" The boy stared into the flames searching for answers to questions he could not understand.

"He loves ya boy, he loves you more than he likes himself just as he did your mother. But your father isn't perfect and he's made his mistakes. In his mind, leaving was the best thing for you."

"Mom thought he was perfect...din't she? I mean, when they met each other because that's what she told me before she died." He looked over at the old man in the dim light, at the weathered face and glowing eyes looking deep for assurance.

"Yes boy, she thought your Pop was the most perfect man she'd ever known. Some women look for the perfect man and never find him cause they're lookin in the wrong place for the wrong things of fairy tales and such. Your Pop thought the same of her and he's a one woman man so's he knows he'll never have that agin. He'll be back boy, you can rest assured on that, in time, he'll be back around."

"But nobody is perfect Grandpa!"

"Depends on how ya lookin at it. Nobody is perfect boy, ya just gotta find the one who is perfect for you. Have ta be able to look past all the faults and glitches cause that hides the inner if'n you are just lookin there. Why, some of the most miserable imperfect people are the ones with the best of everthin which only hides how imperfect they are. Ever one has faults, it's just some hide it better than others."

The boy looked back at the fire and threw in a little piece of bark he had been fondling with his crippled hand to watch it be consumed.
"So you think he'll be back? Really?"

"Oh, he'll be back boy don't you fret none to hard bout that. They ain't no way in the world he won't be back. None at all. Why, you're the most perfect thing ever happened to him in his life. Even more perfect than your mother ever were to him...and that's tough to top." The old man chuckled a little and without even lookin from the fire motioned for the boy to come sit closer to him.

Don't Blame The Dog Catcher


I read on another blog about a responsible pet owner who had to put her beloved companion and loyal friend down several days ago. My heart goes out to her as this is the hardest thing a person has to deal with when owning and caring for a furry friend of many years.


But to others who are not responsible pet owners I want you to know something from this former Animal Services Officers point of view, or dog catcher as some still call them. If you had been the responsible pet owner that you should be then your pet would not have wound up in the shelters in the first place. Your animals should be kept up and not allowed to wander the streets freely where they get run over by vehicles. (I had to pick up way to many mangled pets from roadways). They also would not get out and attack others animals or be attacked by ones who are on their own properties or, bite a person walking down the street or on a bicycle.
You do not chain an animal outside in the heat or cold all day with no shelter, food or water. We had to pick these animals up often because of an owners lack of responsibility. How would you like to be left like that all day and for days on end? The animal is at your mercy for food, shelter and water and if you do not provide those things then you do not need to have an animal in the first place. What suffering for the animal to know that you are inside all nice an comfy eating and drinking as you like while they sit outside and suffer from your neglect. But when you finally decide to give them some food and water they still greet you with a wagging tail.
Don't be mad at the officer who comes and rescues the pet from these conditions, if it were you who was chained or left out like that you would want to be rescued to.

Shelter personnel do not like killing animals in the shelter but because irresponsible owners do not tag or keep their animals up so they don't wander and get picked up, the shelters get over crowded and there is just no way they can keep them all. All of the citizens are paying for the food and care of your pet while in the shelter because you were irresponsible. It is a heart wrenching daily task to determine who must die and who still has a few days left of hopefully the owner showing up to claim them. Shelter personnel would really rather the owners claim their pets and take them back home. And if your pet is missing don't just call the shelter to ask if they picked up a brown dog with one floppy ear and a white spot, do you have any idea how many dogs answer that description? The only way to positively identify if your animal is there is for YOU to physically go down and look. Only you know your pet and he you. (You can get chips implanted these days) Okay, so you might have to pay a fine but should you be mad at the shelter personnel for that. Is the safe return of your pet not worth the small cost? NO, then blame falls squarely on your shoulders and no one else, period.

I've heard it all from people who placed blame on us for picking their animals up and bringing them in. People who would not come claim their pet, or worse, people who abandoned animals to live on the street because they "KNew what we did to animals there." So you set your animal out to fend for themselves for food, to get hit by cars, bitten and attacked by other animals (Perhaps Rabid or animals with Parvo), get sick and spread disease and starve to death etc, and you want to make the animal services personal out to be the bad guys!

I'm not going to sugar coat this either, we had to kill animals every single day Monday through Friday because of owners who were not responsible owners and it was easy to put the blame on us for the outcome. Not a single solitary employee liked doing that task. And most of us would get sick to our stomachs every time and you know who we blame? Not the animals but you. You are the cause of it, the death of so many wonderful beautiful animals who loved you but you let them down, your to blame. So don't go in the shelter with the attitude against shelter personnel as the bad guys, it is you. You did not have to hear the noises they make in the chambers or hold them while giving an injection to kill them. You weren't there to stroke there heads and try to calm them down to make it a little more comfortable for them while dying and seeing them take their last breaths forever when just seconds before, their pitiful scared eyes are looking back at you pleading for mercy. You are not the ones who wake up in the middle of the night crying and puking your guts out and asking forgiveness from the lord for the job you had to do!

We would have much preferred that never one animal was ever in need of being in the shelter, that all of them were either returned to loving homes or adopted by new owners and taken home. I don't care what you see in the movies or television about Animal services personnel hating animals, we all got into it because of our love for animals not a hate for them. I've seen animals with their chains grown into their necks, animals so skinny you could see every bone, dogs hanging from rafters in a garage, dogs in ditches dead or dying, abused and severely neglected animals, fight dogs left alive with gaping wounds with live maggots in the wound, gunshot dogs, starved neglected horses and other live stock and the list goes on.

That is all I have to rant about that for now. But I commend and applaud all of you out there who are responsible pet owners and thank you.

Some Things Gotta Go

I think Elvis should have made the line "Caught in a trap, and I can't walk out..." should have been more like "I'm stuck in a rut, and I can't climb out..."

Over the years of blogging I have had other readers come and go, some long timers dropped me like a hot exhaust pipe bolt before getting blisters; is it any wonder? Looking back on things I have tried to do, starting my motorcycle magazine for one, it's just not going to happen. All the time and effort I had put into it lead to problem after problem. There were advertisers that contacted me back, writers who were willing to come on board, printers I had spoken with etc, etc but I just don't have and don't know how to get the backing I needed to obtain print off. It is another industry that the more you get to digging in you find hidden things that never occurred. Potential advertisers wanted to know what my circulation was. How can a new start up have a circulation record of any type? Then there was the magazine owner/editor with whom talked to me at great length, which I appreciated, but told me an online magazine was the way to go these days. There was also a couple of magazines who asked me to submit articles sounding all excited to have something different but then never put in print.
Henry Thoreau and others of his time went through the same ordeal in a way about getting articles in print. What happened to them, sorta the same as I, were rejections coming back because it didn't fit the magazines profile. They, Thoreau, Alcott I think Channing plus a couple of others was to produce their own Magazine called "The Dial" which had their own ideals and format to suit them. Many of Thoreaus' writings were never in print until after his death and that bites.

Not only is it the magazine I am struggling with letting go but other items to. I know that being a Bass player in some fine band is long, long gone. That was something that I hung up for the biggest part years ago. Picking up that four stringed piece of thundering, window rattling hunk of wood and electronics and knowing my way around it's fretboard is mostly forgotten now. Though I have picked it up every now and then I have pretty much forgotten how to play it. Was a time that I played it all day long every day by ear and feel. Now, the ear is gone and so is the feel for it. The darned thing sat in a closet for the better part of probably, jeez, eighteen or twenty years and I've had it for almost thirty three years. But off and on the feeling would return so it'd come out from the dust only for me to find the notes were being lost as it was a struggle to play it. There was a time when I held it and didn't have to think about playing it I just played it.

Not trying to be a downer here but that is what I am doing isn't it? Feeling sorry for myself. Three deaths in the family this year along with two friends having strokes and another still with a brain tumor within two years is wearing on me. All three of these friends worked hard towards their dreams, saving and waiting, pursuing and waiting as if all of the tomorrows will keep coming. Then they each wake up one morning to find everything is changed and those chances are gone. Now they can't do anything because mounting medical bills eat them up

I have to stop this thinking of big pursuits and narrow it all down to just two or three bucket list goals. You have to have patience but at some point you just have to stop being patient and get on with it, anything, something before it is to late in the game. Sometimes needed changes are hard, just so hard to accomplish. The repercussions on any decision can be monumental but do you take the chance and all the heartache that comes with it, or do you just stay in the rut. I am so in the rut that I am loosing the desire for so many passions I once had. This is not how I envisioned my life turning out this far in the game. Nobodies life goes as planned to the letter but you get stuck going down a path farther and farther until the turnaround's get fewer and fewer. " I gotta get out of this place, if it's the last thing I ever do..." This rut is the place I have to get out of so my goals and dreams are being reduced by me and some have to be let go of. Next week I may change my mind but it has been a long time coming and frankly, it scares the hell out of me.
Two things everyone needs to get rid of are rear view mirrors and yellow light goals. With rear view mirrors you only see where you've been and not where you are going, and yellow lights hold you back, slow you down and make you nervous to proceed.

Dinner with an Old Friend

I had dinner with an old friend last night. I've talked with him on the phone several times over the last two years but had not seen him. A few years ago he lost most of his eye sight so he is legally blind now. There was an operation that gave him a little sight but it's almost like walking in a dark room he says. So, anyway, two years ago he had a stroke and though we'd talked on the phone I was not prepared for when I went to pick him up. The door opened and he stood there looking very feeble to me. Walking to my truck was no easy task for him, he shuffled along, but I made no point to dwell on his disability to him. He struggled to close the door with his left hand because his right arm does not work.
Getting to the restaurant was slow as it was raining hard but luckily it let up when we arrived. I noticed that when we began to get out that he was looking over at me to see where I reached for my door handle. So I pretended not to notice but made my move slowly so he would see where I reached. This was at one time a very active friend who was in great physical shape and I did not want to embarrass him.

At the table he couldn't read the menu as the waiter was there to take our orders so I said to my friend: "Did you not bring your glasses with you?" I said this because he does still wear a pair. The waiter was really patient and I said that I needed more time. The waiter went off to do something else to give us more time. I read down the menu out loud as If I was reading to myself and making comments on certain dishes so my old friend could hear what was on the menu. You see, I was trying to help him keep his dignity and I hope I was not wrong.
We ordered and began to drink our coffee as the order was placed. My friend fumbled with trying to open one of those little creamers with his one good hand. I offered my help and actually the glue on it made it a bit tough to pull the lid off.
We talked and laughed and caught up on things during the meal; it was a generally good time as we both got lost in subjects of better times.

( I must add here that seeing my friend at the door was somewhat of a shock. After I took him back home, my drive was in a sort, sad for my friend, but also full of thought which provoked me to begin having a look at myself. Where am I and what would I like to do. Am I happy with where I am at this point in life? How fast it all went down for him, he went to bed fine one night and awoke paralyzed on one side from a stroke. )

Just some stuff to Ponder

A sharp knife is like a sharpe tongue, they both cut deep and leave scars.

The balloon drifts quietly towards the skies,
It carries with it all my lies,
Except for one held closest to my heart
That I am fulfilling my destiny

Snail mail breeds glorious anticipation, email grants instant but brief gratification.

Animals must think us the worlds greatest hunters.

Age brings wisdom but robs us of imagination.

Would it not be better to be born smart then grow older with stupidness. Then we wouldn't have to say: "If only I had known this when I was younger."

I'm trying to expand my mind but it's me stomach that keeps getting bigger.

General Motors just doesn't get it, they're still pumping out those big behemouth gas guzzlers; they won't even address the millions of bad 3100 SFI V6 engines they put in various cars for years either from 1994 to 2004.

I had an Idea


I had an idea for a motorcycle Inn in the mountains of North Carolina, A place to mellow out and hang with friends, let your hair down, sit around the fire after ridin. Or cut loose and holler and Skinny dip in the pond or sooth your bones in the hot tub. I'll take old tobacco barns and make em into little cabins all cozy and such. Over in the thick grassy area a place for tent camping. Then the little dining area with a huge rock fireplace for sippin and relaxing after a meal. Lets not forget a place to change your oil and fix what needs mending.

What would be thy name of this cool little place to escape to after a days ridin the scenic roads? Why "The Go Tuck Yourself...Inn" what else.

T-Shirts: "I had the best Tucking time at the Tuck Yourself Inn"
"The best place to Get Tucked is at the Tuck Yourself Inn"
"Everyone gets Tucked at the Tuck Yourself Inn"
"Ya ain't been Tucked till you've been to the Tuck Yourself Inn"