What makes a good or a bad day?  Is it the way others treat us?  Is it the weather?  Maybe luck and chance take a down turn for us.  Maybe we got up on the wrong side of the bed and spent our whole day grumpy and morose. 

I think that last statement is telling of us all.  We make our own days good or bad.  I know, I know, the house is a wreck, the kids are bitchin’ moaning and complaining, the bills a piling up and you just can’t get a second to yourself to take a deep breath or two.  Well who’s stopping you from stepping away from it all?  Whats so all important that you can’t wave everyone off for a few moments of peace and quiet outside?  Put your hands up and step back for a minute, walk away from everyone, let them know you need a second to yourself and close the door on your way out.

Now while your out here lost in your thoughts and going over everything in your head that’s chased you off to be alone… quit it.  Stop thinking about all the mess behind you.  Breath in, breath out, think about that cloud floating past.  Think about the grass and how many colors of green you can see.  Think about that funny joke you heard at work the other day and how you were laughing with your friends.  Remember what George Carlin said, “The following statement is true.  The preceding statement was false.”  Contemplate that for a minute.  Now breath in and breath out again and return to your life, but think of it from the clouds perspective.  Whats all the problems matter?  They’ll get sorted out one way or another and sooner or later there will be a new issue to deal with.

The trick is to be there working on it, but in your mind you are out laying in the grass.

 I get really grumpy some times.  I know I do.  I think at times its a defence measure to get left alone for a few minutes.  What I forget is at any time I can just tell everyone this easy phrase, “Excuse me a moment.  I need a second to organise my thoughts, but I will be right back.”

Ladies have a problem, they want to call all their friends over to discuss it.  They want to talk about it and hash it out, come up with eight different ways to deal with it and then hash those out too.  Me?  I’m a guy.  I want to be left alone to think about it.  When I come up with my way of handling it, I’ll let you know.  Then if you have a suggestion that may help or pertain, let me know.  But I still get to make up my mind and do what I feel is the best.  I may make mistakes, but hell, I’m human.  We all make mistakes, get over it.  I need to know I am the one who made the final decision, right or wrong, its my life and I get to make my own mistakes and own them.  On the other hand I also get to take credit for things I get right too.

 Don’t stop living your life, just stop stressing about it.  Letting people get on your last nerve helps no one, not you, not them, and not me.  Life is about discovering problems, inventing ways to handle them, and accomplishing goals.  Chaos happens, those who dwell on it or are stressed about it get nothing.  Those who acknowledge it, figure out a way to deal with it, and then move on to the next issue… they succeed.

A Priest and a Rabbi were sitting next to each other in an airport.  After a few minutes of silence the Priest looks over and says, “Rabbi, is it still a requirement of your faith that you not eat pork?”the Rabbi responded, “Yes, that is still one of our laws.”The Priest then asked, “Well have you ever tasted pork before?”

Yo dudes, check out me on my new ride… well actually its the same ‘06 Dyna Wideglide that I had before the accident, its just all custom out.  I sank a bit more cash into it.  I did it for me.  I think its cool.

I wanted my bike to look different from others so I decided not to go with the traditional tribal or flames or some graphic design there of.  I went with the idea of blood running from the front off the back of the bike in steams.  I told the  artist to kinda run with that idea however he saw fit.  I find that usually if you have a good artist and you give him a basic idea or theme to go with but leave him to his own devices after that you typically get better work out of them.  I was not disappointed.  The company is called Debonair FX located right here in Houston TX and here’s the bike they worked on for me:

I also had a custom seat made and the front lower forks are powder coated.  The seat was made by another local company named Thunderhead who do great leather and foam work.  It also had gel inserts and a more comfortable passenger seat.

All in all I really love the bike.   Being up and riding again really makes me thankful for what I have.  I think we all at times grow a bit numb with repetition in life.  That is to say, you drive the same route to work day in and day out, you begin to predict what you will do and see before it happens based on your experience in rinding that route so often before.  That’s what I did anyway and that’s what I think cost me. 

Take the extra five minutes getting home, watch your surroundings like it was the first time you came through there.  You may notice some things that have changed but you didn’t see before.  You may save yourself a possible accident.

Hey, Some of you may know I love poker. Others know I have three cats. Still others may know I have never been to Las Vegas in my life. Well help me fix all these problems with the following contest. Click on the picture to go vote for my caption.  Get me away from the cats, out to Vegas where I can play Poker!!!

More on the online Poker Cats Contest

A blonde goes into a coffee shop and notices there’s a “peel and win” sticker on her coffee cup.So she peels it off and starts screaming, “I’ve won a motorhome!  I’ve won a motorhome!”The waitress says, “That’s impossible. The biggest prize is a free Lunch.?”

When has Political Correctness (or PC) gone too far?  When does being “P.C.” become just plain stupid?

Example: During the holidays, rumor had it that a certain local group of Santa impersonators for malls was instructed not to say “Ho Ho Ho” because of the negative connotation it implies in recent street slang.  By recent I mean within the last five to six years or so.

Sure there are people out there who may just be crooked enough to act as if they were being slighted by the Santa in the mall.  There may even be a Santa in the mall drunk or ignorant enough to make a person feel slighted.  But the legend of Santa Claus has been around since long before the street vernacular.  And I would say more folks are familiar with his jolly, “Ho ho ho” than the vulgar slang “Hoe”.  They are messing with traditions dating back to the early nineteenth century here.

I say this one is plain stupid.

But it doesn’t end there, that’s just one example that I thought up off the cuff.  There are millions more I am sure.  What stupid changes have been made to appease the unwashed masses out for a buck?  Yeah, thats right, out for a buck… Think about it.  The reason they change these rules isn’t because they are afraid to insult or offend people.  No, they are afraid of legal ramification from idiots bent on making a buck through a loop hole in the system.  Folks willing to spend loads of our court time and tax money tying up government workers and getting the Johnny Cochrans of the world out there to make huge social debates on why “Ho” is, or could be construed as, the same as “Hoe” by their alleged emotionally hurt client.  Worse, they play this crap up heavy in our media… Why do you think that is?  The reason is pretty simple really; its the fact that public opinion is easily swayed by the media.

Thus as they say, “The mob rules”.  You see what they are hoping for is to create a public outcry in favor of their client.  Or at least cause enough of an uproar that the higher up muckity-mucks get their panties in a bunch and force the hand of the courts to pressure a quick solution to a non-issue. Then the attorney in question, who created the “issue” to begin with, starts pulling appeals and all kinds of reasons to extend the case out all the time whipping the media in the background to keep the pressure on.  Reminds me of that court scene in “From the Hip” with Judd Nelson blowing the courtroom into a three ring circus. http://imdb.com/title/tt0093051/trailers-screenplay-E10692-310 <— funny movie if you haven’t seen it.

What’s all this lead too?  Well rather than do what they should and just shut the books on the stupid case and shuffle the attorney into a nice quiet cell for contempt of court and wasting valuable tax dollars, the judge bends to the pressure and pays off the jack hole who started the whole mess.

So now we see a reason behind the stupidity… but does that make it right?  Is it OK for the corporate world to see a “possible” future and change years of pure and fun related tradition to save a couple of bucks?  Do we simply turn a blind eye on this?  Well of course we do, we are the sheep and the media is our shepherd.  If they say this is how it must be, well then its best for us all.

I say screw that.  I dare to spit in the face of the media!  I dare to to think like an individual and make my own mind up about what I will and won’t accept as rules.  They want to pass a law that protects folks?  They need to put it past us first.  That’s what democracy used to be all about.  The people selecting the folks who lead us, and us having the power to tell them how they will do their jobs, and what they can and can’t tell us to do.  When did “power of the people” become just another bullshit term?  I think its getting time for another proverbial “tea party”.

With today’s technological communications we have the power to get information out to the public in a much faster and more effective manner than in days of old.  There isn’t a Paul Revere running around on horseback.  We have Internet, we have media, we have iPhones, for god sake.  Let’s use them.  Write emails, call congressional representatives, create websites, yell and scream naked in the streets about it (If you do that last one, let me know.  Especially if you’re hot and female).

Don’t get me wrong, media isn’t evil, its a tool.  And just like any tool, you can use a hammer to drive a nail and build a house, or to put out someones eye.  The media tool has put out far too many eyes, most of America is blind.  There are those who think that the Jerry Springer show is giving us a view into all backyards.  I don’t speak for you, but my closet skeletons aren’t Aryan white trash nuns who cheat on their hillbilly spouse by sleeping with dwarves and beat their sexually active drugged out fifth grade children behind the strip club they all work at.

Yeah laugh, its funny, but sometimes the jester points at truth and the court howls in laughter…

St Peter is standing at heaven’s gate when a man walks up.

“Excellent my son, I have to leave for a bit, watch the gate will you?”

I recently in my web surfing mode came across a rather… well venomous article.  It was a very long winded attack on Harley-Davidson riders and the company in general.  The writer did make a few valid points, but over all the impression it left me with was one of pity.  I felt sorry for anyone who lives with that much pent up anger and frustration.  To bad he doesn’t ride  ;)

Here’s the link: http://www.goingfaster.com/angst/noharley2.html

Here’s the email I replied to him with because I doubt he’ll print it on his website:

I won’t lower myself to insults or hate email’s.  Unlike you I will not call you names or attack you for having an opinion.  What I will do is explain the fundamental attraction to Harley-Davidson that you didn’t see in your attack on those of us within the, lets see if I get this right, “pagan cult religion for brain dead trend humping fashion lemmings”… Very colorful attack by the way.
 
First Harley-Davidson isn’t built for breakneck speeds because for the most part, those of us who ride them are not out to race from one point to the next.  For us its not about being the first person at the destination, its about leaving a day or so early, taking back roads and enjoying the journey.  Freedom to chose means if you prefer to buy a Kawasaki Ninja, curl up into an uncomfortable cramped little ball on top of it and race through the curves to get where you are going, well that’s your prerogative.  I prefer to sit up right, lean back, relax and enjoy the views along the trip.  That is my prerogative.
 
Harley-Davidson isn’t about being “in fashion”, heck one could argue that its about the farthest you can get from the “in crowd”.  Sure it’s become fad in recent years to buy and ride Harley-Davidson’s.  You may point out that there are a bunch of yuppie riders out there trying to fit into the biker persona because they saw it on television and thought it was cool.  Or maybe they got caught up in the custom chopper craze and decided a Harley was the cheaper fix.  Whatever their reasons for buying a Harley-Davidson, they have the right and freedom to do so.  Just as you have a right and the freedom to criticize them for it.  I find that most R.U.B.’s (Rich Urban Bikers) purchase their bike, then put it in the garage and wipe it with a diaper.  They don’t get it any more than you do.  But who cares how they spend their money?  Not me.  I also don’t care how you spend yours.
 
Do I worship my Harley-Davidson?  My girlfriend might tell you I do, but for me I see it as more of an escape.  When I ride, I am a part of the bike and the road.  But more than that I am a part of my environment.  Sitting in a car, you watch the world pass by your windows like you watch the television.  You are not feeling the crisp air, smelling the pine trees, you are not “experiencing the ride” you are watching it.
 
Sport bikes and motorcycles with enough torque to leave the riders internal organs bunched into his hind quarters are built for the adrenaline junkie.  They are designed for folks who are all about your speed and power.  But on the open road, where there are laws against that kind of speed and where those of us on motorcycles are at a notable disadvantage to those wrapped in a couple tons of steel during a collision, who cares about getting to the grave yard faster?  If you ride your 1995 Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R’s 599cc in-line four bike and I ride my 2006 Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide glide 1450cc and we trip across country, you may beat me to all the rest stops, but I won’t have to stop as often as you.  And while you are at the destination tapping your foot and laughing at me for “Easy Riding” I will be enjoying my trip and seeing some of that beautiful county you claim to love so much but blazed right past in a blur of death defying speed and performance.  That’s where you and I truly differ my friend.  You claim to love your country, but sit in judgment over its people and race past its beauty.  You point your finger at what you see as “Wrong” or un-American and nit pick at one of its best known companies.  Well enjoy your freedom to do that, enjoy your freedom to speech and to sling mud at other Americans because you don’t agree with their choices.  I chose the moral high ground.  And I ride my Harley there
 
Print that on your website.
 
Freelyx

I expect no response or reply from him.  I expect him to probably not even read past the first couple of lines of my email.  I expect he’s going to sit in judgment over me too… Oh well, some folks just don’t get it.

A man walks into a bar and asks the bartender, “If I show you a really good trick, will you give me a free drink?” The bartender considers it, then agrees. The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny rat. He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a tiny piano. The rat stretches, cracks his knuckles, and proceeds to play the blues.

After the man finished his drink, he asked the bartender, “If I show you an even better trick, will you give me free drinks for the rest of the evening?” The bartender agrees, thinking that no trick could possibly be better than the first. The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny rat. He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a tiny piano. The rat stretches, cracks his knuckles, and proceeds to play the blues. The man reaches into yet another pocket and pulls out a small bullfrog, who begins to sing along with the rat’s music.

While the man is enjoying his beverages, a stranger confronts him and offers him $100,000.00 for the bullfrog. “Sorry,” the man replies, “he’s not for sale.” The stranger increases the offer to $250,000.00 cash up front. “No,” he insists, “he’s not for sale.” The stranger again increases the offer, this time to $500,000.00 cash. The man finally agrees, and turns the frog over to the stranger in exchange for the money.

“Are you insane?” the bartender demanded. “That frog could have been worth millions to you, and you let him go for a mere $500,000!” “Don’t worry about it.” the man answered. “The frog was really nothing special. You see, the rat’s a ventriloquist.”

Friday night after work, I rolled out of the parking lot feeling pretty good.  I had just sold a bike adding another number to the board and in general life was good.  I think it was about 7:15PM or so when I left.

I had decided to stop and get a drink at a gas station on the way home.  I don’t know what I hit when I turned into the driveway.  I was later told there was a glass coke bottle on the ground there as well as a pot hole in the concrete.  Whatever it was, the handlebars jerked hard right throwing me left off the bike.  I went sailing over the ditch and the soft grass to hit and rolled up off the curb into the nice hard pavement.  Laying there looking up at the night sky, some nice folks came over to check on me.  At the time, I thought I was fine there was no pain at all.  Just had the wind knocked out of me.  So after a moment’s rest I went to get up, but realized instantly the mistake that was.  Pain shot through my shoulder like I had never felt in my life.  Now mind you I have broken six bones over my short time on this dirt ball called earth.  None felt like this one.  I knew I had broken my collar bone.

First a cop showed up.  He took a report on the accident for me and gave me a small note to keep in my pocket in case I needed to reference it later for insurance purposes.  I removed my helmet as it was causing my head to lean forward at an odd angle and stressing the pain in my shoulder further.  I called my girlfriend to let her know where I was and that I was still breathing in and out.  The cop asked me who was going to move my bike.  My guess is that the four or five tow trucks were all foaming at the mouth hoping to get my bike and make a little money.  I called a friend of mine who came and got the bike for me and brought it back to my house foiling them all.

The ambulance arrived, paramedics came over and began the job of causing the victim as much pain as possible before transporting them (me) to a hospital ready to leach as much weight out of my wallet to help ease my distress when walking.  I asked the guy to look at my collar bone and see if it was broken.  He said it didn’t look broke, but that it was hard to see.  They asked who took my helmet off twice.  I explained that I had taken it off myself.  They went to put a neck brace on me.  I tried to explain that with the pain in my shoulder I thought that would be a bad idea, but they had procedure to follow in this sort of situation.  So they put it on me anyway.  They brought out a back board.  I had no idea how they were going to get me on it without touching the shoulder.  Reaching with my right arm across my body I held my left arm to my side and they rolled my up on my right to place the board.  Then they taped me down to it.  I had to lean my head right and put pressure on the neck brace to keep it from pushing left on my broken collar bone.  They then lifted me up and put me on the ambulance gurney.  I gave my cell phone to my girlfriend, I have an Iphone and didn’t want it to grow legs if I passed out.  She also agreed to stay and help my friend get the bike back to our house before catching up with me at the hospital.

I think the ambulance driver knew a shortcut to the hospital.  I say that because I’m almost positive we never touched a paved road the entire trip there.  I felt every bump and pebble in the road.  Each time he hit a turn it pushed me against the rail on the gurney and sent fresh waves of pain throughout my body emanating from that shoulder.

When we got into the emergency room I could hear quite a lot of folks in the area, but only see the ceiling as my head was taped down still.  I asked the paramedic to help me get the collar off my neck so I could relax a little, but was informed that only a doctor could authorize its removal.  Well while that made perfect sense, it did nothing to ease my pain.  Shortly after that someone came over and checked out my neck.  They finally removed the offending neck brace so I could stretch my neck out and relax.  They had to cut the tape off and help me sit up (still holding my left arm to my body) then moved me into a wheel chair.  When the lady asked me what was wrong I told her I thought my collar bone was broken.  The paramedic took another look at it and said other than some swelling in one particular area, it didn’t appear to be broken.  They took my info and moved me in my chair out into the hallway to wait for a doctor and a chance to be seen.

A little info to help you understand the gravity of my situation here, it was Friday night, a full moon, and the weekend before New Years Eve.  The place was packed.  I didn’t get out of there until after midnight and the accident had happened around 7:30PM or so.  I sat in that wheel chair against a wall in the hallway for a long time; it was standing room only that night.  My girlfriend showed up and I had her help me cause even more pain to myself.  My thoughts were of them trying to use those sharp doctor scissors to cut the $350.00 leather jacket off of me, so I had her help me take it off.  She then became my personal coat rack.  She had to hold my helmet, my jacket, and the work shirt that I also took off.  I spent $80.00 on those shirts and I wasn’t about to have to buy another of those either.  A couple of hours went by.  I saw lots of people coming in but rarely saw anyone leave.

When I saw guy and his very obviously preggers wife arrive, she was standing there shaking in shock of some kind, I gave up my seat to her.  Chivalry is harder when you are in as much pain as I was, but its how I was raised.  Piece of advice to you however, never lean against a wall with a broken collar bone.  Hurts like hell.  Anyway they finally saw me around 11:45 or so and took the X-rays, sure enough.  What I had been telling everyone since it happened turned out to be right.  It was broken.  I was given some pain pills and put in a room.  Someone brought me a chicken salad sandwich that I am ever grateful for.  Then they put me in a harness told me to see an orthopedic specialist regarding the break.  The only way I can describe the torture device that this harness is, is to liken it to those old shoulder holsters the detectives wear in cop shows, but designed for both sides.  The idea is to hold your shoulders back so you won’t hunch while the bone heals.  They can’t cast a broken clavicle.  So they stretch you out and squirm gleefully behind your back at the excruciating pain they cause you.

Looking at the X-rays, I have a small part of bone still attached to the shoulder.  The longer part of the bone is jabbed up into the muscle that stretches over the top of your shoulder.  The doc at the ER said that she thought they may have to surgically go in and fix it.  She said the conventional way to do it was to just keep the shoulder brace on and let it heal itself, but that now, depending on the kind of break, they sometimes had to put the bone back where it belonged, put a couple of small metal plates and a few screws in it to insure it healed right.

Thus I have an appointment for today around lunch time.  Hope they just knock me out, do the surgery, and get me on my way.  I want this done and over with so I can start the healing process and get back on my bike.  Beautiful weather yesterday.  I really missed the ride I could have had.

Speaking of the bike: I broke the left mirror, bent the risers and handle bars down towards the tank and put a scrape in the paint on the left side of the tank about the size of a silver dollar. Also the bike won’t start. The lights come on and the fuel injection primes, but when you hit the start button you hear that clicking sound you get when the battery is dead. Since the lights never dim, it could mean several things. Hopefully none of them too expensive to fix as I am going to be dropping a pretty large load of cash on medical bills and land taxes that are coming up on us.