DATE: 05 Feb 2007, 4:46 pm / MOOD: Tired

At around eight o' clock this morning I got a call tellin' me that one of my most dear friends had passed on. It didn't really hit me till I got out on I-30 alone.

Richard "Dickey" Lamm is one the finest souls you'd ever want to meet and we were thick as thieves for a lot of years. I gave him a home when he needed it and he did the same for me without question and without ever making me feel like I owed him for anything.

All the stupid shit we did and crazy places we wound up at still makes me laugh until I cry. We spent a lot of time trying to cover for each other. The fact we held on to those jobs is a friggin' miracle. I wouldn't know what story to tell first and all of them are my favorite. God, I guess back then is the last time I really let loose. And in all those years I can't recall a cross word between us.

One thing I can tell you about my buddy, without doubt, is that he did NOT arrive in heaven in well preserved, grace. He slid in sideways, out of gas, and thoroughly used up. He's got some explaining to do but they'll let him in. Of that I have no doubt.

See ya soon bro. Until then I'll keep listening for ya in the wind.

"You aint heavy; you're my brother."

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DATE: 08 Nov 2006, 2:04 pm / MOOD: Tired

Lately I've been feelin' a bad cloud loomin' over. A couple of months ago, when I found out about the divorce, I went to visit my brother. Now this deal was my fault, but when I pulled up to his house I goosed my Bettie a little to "announce" my arrival and she stuck me in the sand like a yard dart. Lost a mirror in the deal but nothin' else. Kind of a funny story told start to finish; maybe in another blog.

Then there was the deer incident detailed in a previous blog entry and of course the spoke thing in my last entry. In between those incidents have been an increasing number of close calls. People on cell phones, people not paying attention when trying to occupy the space I'm in etc. etc. Well on "the night of the broken spoke" it all caught up with me.

On Hallween night at around 11:15 PM I left the intersection of HWY 19 and Hwy 69 in Emory, on my way home. The home that my son no longer occupies. Anyway I see a blue, Ford 3/4 ton leaving the Sonic parking lot on my right at a pretty good clip so I slow up thinking they're just gonna shoot out onto the Highway. The truck stops before entering the Hwy so I add power and go on. Well the driver didn't see me and pulls out turning left. I drop power and apply all brakes, hard. On the right is a highway sign, a damn deep ditch and concrete culvart. Go left and I wind up in her grill so I lay the bike down. Damn she hit hard!

I didn't get kicked free so me and the bike are sliding with my leg caught under the right side. At that point I remember actualy relaxing a little thinkin' "This sucks but I'm pretty much on my back and sliding. I'll be ok." Then I saw that damn rear wheel. That's when I thought, "Well I'm done." She ran over my forks and chopped them off, spun the bike right tossing me off and I went bouncin'. I remember most of the impacts. Strange how what takes maybe 3 seconds tops seems like its playing out in slow motion.

When I stopped I could see my bike laying there still running. I crawled over and laid across the gas tank for a second, shut her off and stripped off my helmet. I could hear people asking me stuff so I stood up. I remember being embarassed cause my chap belt had busted and it looked like I was standing there with my pants around my knees. I didn't like that so I took 'em off.

One of the Deputies that came to the scene is a cool SOB. I had met him a few days earlier and he had invited me on a ride the following saturday. He came up with a big smile and said. "It don't look like your gonna make the ride." I just laughed. Then he took his flash light and started probing the ground asking "Where's your gremlin bell?" I replied "That's the problem. I aint got one yet."

At any rate I walked away. My Jacket can be salvaged. My helmet, that I don't normaly wear can't and neither can my chaps. The verdict isn't in on my bike yet but I think she can be saved and kinda hope she can be. I had intended on keeping her and buying a new or newer one in January.

I screwed up my right side pretty good and it's pretty much one solid bruise and swollen to hell. Noting broken and the leather really saved my ass; recieveing only minor road rash on my right arm.

Right now I'm sitting here writing this blog entry, drinkin' some cold beer and staring out the window wishin' like hell my son was here.

And oh yeah. I'm also tryin' to figure out how to go about gettin' to know my son's teacher a little better. I met her the other day and she's pretty damn cute.

Be careful out there.

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DATE: 31 Oct 2006, 4:59 pm / MOOD: Disappointed

There has been lots of stuff goin' on recently. Sick parents, divorce, my son and I being seperated for the first time, lots of money out the door etc. etc. Hell I haven't chased a cloud in over a month; just ride to work and from work. But I still don't think I have a good excuse for what I let happen to my bike.

When I hit I-30 today comin' out of Rockwall I started gettin' a pretty good shimmy out of the rear end. I pulled over and found nine broke spokes. AND my rotor and brake pads are wore all to hell. I wish I could say that I hit something and that broke my spokes. But no; it's straight up, dumb assed, bone headed neglect. I've been so wrapped in up in just getting through the days that I haven't done anything except change the oil. Had I been checking the spokes even once or twice a month I would have avoided this. There just wasn't a whole lot holding that rim together today. Had I changed my brake pads when I knew they needed it instead of just not using the back brakes I wouldn't have to buy a new rotor.

Moral of the story? Don't get sloppy on maintenance. It can be dangerous and there is no good excuse. I post this embarrassing tidbit for the world to see as self punishment.

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DATE: 19 Oct 2006, 7:01 am / MOOD: Relieved

I figure I got pretty damn lucky last Friday night on my way home from work.

I live out in East Texas in a county with a fair deer population so I'm always scanning the bar ditches ahead of me. Twilight was just passing so it was a little hard to pick out detail but I saw a shape standing at the right edge of the road just a little bit ahead of me. Sure enough that shape turned into deer and I was clippin' along at little over 70. I shut her down a little too hard and the front tire started skiddin'. That's about the time I got even with the deer and just like I expected that's when she decided to make her run for the other side of the road.

For just a second my whole world was the color of deer and I saw her back leg clip the tire and knock the front end sharp left. And I know I saw deer shit hit my fender. I can't laugh at that ol' doe takin' a dump right then cause that's what I was doin'. The only thing goin' through my mind right then was, "Well that's it. My bike is screwed and I'm gonna break every damn bottle of beer I got with me." I had just stopped by the beer store and strapped an 18 pack to the pillion.

I released the brakes and powered through the little wobble. I figure God likes Harleys and didn't want that beer wasted cause I didn't go down. I made it to the house, broke open a beer and checked my shorts feelin' damn lucky.

You folks that ride rual areas, scan that bar ditch well ahead of you. Deer season is here and they're on the move.


Keep the rubber down.

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