Life goggles

Man, between the work I do for a living and the work I do for my personal needs/pleasure, the days fly by in a blur. I wake up on a Saturday morning with a full dance card and no opportunity to sleep in. I end up being productive and have fun along the way and then it's Monday and I'm back in the mix of so much going on with so few resources. "Doing more with less", in the yuppie vernacular. You get through a couple of blinks there and suddenly it's mid way through the week and you're trying to fit in more work before the weekend for people that sit on their bloated carcasses and think they're the only folks in the universe. BAM! It's another weekend.

I'm going to be 50yrs old in a couple of years and I feel like I just turned 20. OK, physically I feel like I'm in my 80's, but mentally I'm still enjoying things and wanting to enjoy more things and just noticing that life has a pace that's kinda zooooomier than I like. I want to sip and chew, not wolf and gulp. No control over that.

Gotta get out of the "all work and no play" rut.....last weekend ruined me.  8)

I have alot of runs coming up. There's a Camp Boogie and the Gypsys are putting on a poker run.....I have a car show I'm organizing and there's the Scouting thing. Just attending an LSU game for stretcher bearing duty takes up 12 hours.

Blur!

What a weekend....

Last weekend started on Friday afternoon when I showed up to Bear's house with the "Heart of Gold II" for Bags' bus. We had a good time wrenching and yakkin' and bolting things together the way we usually do and I got home way later than I should have. The plan was to get up around 0630 the next morning and ride around goofing off with the ladies before getting back to the VW side of things in the afternoon.

That was the plan.

But Ed went camping with the Scouts.

Change of plan.

We went off riding with Rusty and Bear and thier ladies like we intended....coffee shop where I have to relearn "situational Italian" every time I walk through the door....riiiiiiide..... Harley open-house with tunes and bikes out the @$$. Bags catches me looking at calendars and starts making funny comments about how guys look at things like that all the time and then, in front of everyone, says I need to look at one that only has pictures of HER in it. I submit to you pictorial proof that I immediately endorsed/approved/supported the production and viewing of said calendar and shook on the deal WITH WITNESSES:

....a short hop to the restaurant for food and "stuff" and then the riiiiiiide before.....before......before......peeling off to hit the house where noone saw us for the rest of the weekend.

We had good intentions where that VW was concerned.....

Oh, and Ed enjoyed camping and blah-dee-blah-dee-blah. ;)

Busted butt tired....

Man, after a day of doing something-nothing-something-nothing and wanting to get going on the weekend, I made it to Bear's to assemble all the things that turn a VW longblock into a running motor. After eating one of Susan's awesome spaghetti meals and loading up on a huge desert, we hit the garage and got busy. I spent around 3 hours sitting on a stool with the longblock on a bench in front of me and tools/parts laid out within reach. Work bend work bend work unwork rework bend....repeat. I never knew sitting could get at your back like that. Well, it does if you've had a dual fusion. Anyway, the plan is to button up the few remaining things and get that motor in by tomorrow night (or whenever). But first thing in the morning, I'm going to ride with the "Sons of Subdivision" to a Starbucks and then loop the twisties to end up at BR Harley to watch ewveryone check out new bikes and LSU tailgating parties. Bear calls it his R.U.B. ride.

Yuppie scum.  ;)

So..... how ya been?

So the blog thing kinda slipped as the last few months did a taffy pull on my calendar. Tugged this way and that through alot of good things and bad. Just like you.

On the good side, I was looking to trade the Geezer Glide for something more motor-on-wheels that fits my character and the way I like to roll down the road. Hooked up with Cade about an hour or so away and made the trade for the Softail. One uber-rainy ride back home (sans front fender) and I was used to the bike and lovin' it. Here's a shot of me and bear in the driveway at Casa del Joker after the ride:

Yes, those are semi-truck flappers on the pipes and yes, they've grown on me and are staying. I sent Cade back his homespun iron cross aircleaner plate, had the metal shop guys plasma cut a disc out of stainless and tossed the Sparkle Barbie Glitter Grips for some regular black rubber ones.

With the pipes pointing where bags normally go and a Camp Boogie gypsy run coming up to Arkansas, I needed a way to run a military duffel bag on the back. Enter my buddy Lars, a coworker who's becoming a pretty mean blacksmith:

 

 

Next thing you know, ol' Joker's sportin' a mighty fine sisy bar on the Softail and ready for road trippin'!

 

 

 

 

Sweetness and light.

 

Bags' bus is coming along with the fresh motor (top to bottom with a tasty cam and some carb-foolery) going together at Bear's tonight and getting stabbed tomorrow. Tomorrow night is a gut run to the monthly meeting of VW freaks.

 

Been going to every home LSU game with Ed and his Scout Troop since they function as ushers and stretcher bearers. Never much followed college football, but I gotta tell you, the atmosphere (and eye candy) at those games kinda grabs you.

 

 

Through Facebook, I've hooked up with 3 of my past club brothers and we've been going back and forth on catching up with things. I need to make a run to Iowa, that's for sure. Shortcut's got it made up there. Rocket's doing well as a medical professional now on the east coast and Buddah is living large right in Big D. He and his brothers own that town. For real.

 

 

A lot going on. 



Dagnab confusticated consarn blog BS!!!!!!

.....or I'm just having problems because I haven't blogged in a long time. Way too busy.

The boy's Scout thing has taken a bunch of time, work has been nuts, the planets won't align...yaddah yaddah.

Anyway, a lot's happened since the last blog post here. Freakshow's motor was garbage and we sold the Super to finance the total drill/bore/modification of the that exact motor to create The HEart of Gold II. It goes in this weekend.

Found a bike I like better than the dresser and made a friend at the same time. We swapped bikes back in August and I've been pretty happy with it. Definitely fits.

Been thinking......

I think the secret of life is collecting memories of quality moments and the struggle of life is developing your taste for quality and the ability to recognize those moments as they occur. The work of life is maneuvering toward those moments. Travel and family are 2 very good tools for the work of life. Cultivating your inner peace is calibrating your quality receptor.

Hence, the motorcycles.

So the slacker sets up phone posting...

I've been really busy with a lot of crap. Health, money and time become dear as you sprint past racers and obstacles in the race of life. Maybe posting from the phone will help get me back a bit more regularly!

Brothers helping brothers

Was planning to go to Bear's last night to jerk the Heart of Gold from Freakshow's ass. Had to do some graphics work for a building automation start-up in Boston and it was going to be a late night between the two....

....so I bailed on the VW thing, worked...napped....worked.

I'm flat on my back in bed watching a double feature fantasy on the inside of my eyelids when I get an email and, being programmed by a career of pavlovian response to electronic summons in all forms, I open the email from Bear and the above picture is attached.

Bear did the motor-ectomy. Brothers helping brothers.

Tonight, I'm bringing the whole family over to his place to share a meal together and we'll tear this thing down and see what we see.

Thanx, Bear!

Evel Knievel once said....

Man, blood, sweat and tears going into the revival of Freakshow, the 1971 VW Westy Camper that has returned to the family after a whirlwind tour of other owners. When I got it back, it ran with some overheating and a sound like a diesel. Found some loose head nuts and figured a topend job would do it! Many grease-covered hours later, Bear and I stabbed the motor in his driveway and fired it up to the same noise. It's bottom end. It's money. So we gotta wait.

I wanted to get this done before Bags' birthday this Monday and I'm not gonna make it. Right now, her Superbeetle is at Matt's house waiting on a re-machined steering box install.

Epic fails on all fronts.

Evel Knievel once said, "A man can fall many times in life, but he isn't a failure until he refuses to get back up." So I keep going in the right direction not sweating that I'm not at the finish line, yet. Just keep pluggin'. Everything falls into place your way if you keep moving your way.

Don't have the answer to this little setback, but I will keep moving in the right direction (looking for the money tree) and things will fall into place my way.

Just so's ya know.......Freakshow!

Freakshow, our old departed '71 VW Baywindow Westphalia Camper, was in the care of the niece of one of the most powerful forces in the universe (Bear) when she decided to go the more modern route. Bear let me know and BAM! Freakshow comes back to the family to reverse a mistake made a few moons (and air-cooled VW's) ago.

Here she is today:

We're going to have fun bringing her back up to Tripendicular Hippy status for Bags and Ed to cruise in in style. These things are fun. Genuine simplicity where visceral motoring and righteous vibes blend in a symphony of whoopee! Getting waaaay pricey. Check out this link to look at current asking prices from around the world:  http://www.thesamba.com/vw/classifieds/cat.php?id=7

Got a thread going at the Air Coolers site, too:  http://www.aircoolers.org/v/showthread.php?33366-Freakshow

I've been up to my elbows in my boy Ed's "band of brothers", the Boy Scouts and this Bus. Want to get back to blogging when I get my head out of reality for a moment. Not hooked on the internet blogging thing, yet, so I let it lapse.

Shake it up....

Every once in a while, no matter who you are, no matter what your life is like, you need to unplug and channel your inner Viking. You know, that hairy beast with no pretense and a lust for action and fun. Unleash the beast.

For me, that's "Camp Boogie", a gathering of old bikers and new at Harley rallies or one of our homes over BBQ, bikes, booze, belches....and whatnot. Invariably, for these occasions, I'm the rolling "whatnot".

Like kids running to the icecream truck, I have my buds hanging out at the "Geezer Glide" which I ride right up to the stage (ya know, where the dancing is). Knocking back Patron with beer chasers is a good way to wipe the slate clean for all that life that happens between the "Camp Boogie" weekends. It's not always intense, but when it is.....them's some good memories made!

Kuhon started the whole deal with Queef and added Bear, Midnite, myself and a few others over time. It's getting to be a pretty big thing. If you like huge porkchop steaks served hot from the grill on the end of a knife blade passed around, you'll fit right in.

Here's a shot of Kuhon leaving the line on his 11-sec Sporty. He's a 3-time cancer survivor who'd been told to pack his bags, so seeing him hard at what he loves best brings us all together.

Little picture, but you get the idea.

Every once in a while, you have to get out and let it all hang out.

I'm minding my own business, see......

I'm not all that superstitious, so I'm not sporting one of those little gremlin bells that ward off the evil spirits of mechanical failure for the travelling vehicle like St. Christopher is said to do for the travelling soul.

So the plan is to jump on the bike with the boy and ride through a semi-sunny 77deg morning to Guitar Center and try out the latest goodies, hit some place for a snack or munchie or some such and then ride to the house and yak to Mom about what a great day we had so far.

I swing a leg and go to fire the bike up and it's live at the dash....dead at the starter.

Hmm... I've had this happen before and thought I'd found the culprit with the corrosive blue powder forming a conductive short between posts on the plugged in starter relay. I found that while romping with the righteous at a rally a while back. Was pretty smug about the whole thing, too. Well, let's see what we've got now.

The bike in question is my first foray into rolling lazyboys. I wouldn't have picked it, but it fell in my lap....followed me home.....was really cheap....made sense at the time. It's a 1996 Evo geezer-glide and I've grown attached to it while waiting to find someone to trade me a Shovelhead for it.

Camp Boogie 29APR12

Our gathering of the faithful that we like to call "Camp Boogie" occurred again this past Sunday.

We all rode off to Queef's to ressurect Chuck's '61 Sporty. Dang, that's one fine ride. He tore it down to do tin paint and pretty it up and life kicked him hard in the ass so he had to put it aside to deal with things. We'll help him deal with the bike. Need some parts, though.

Fugly

I have a fiesty grab-bag of electronics and 2 generations of someone's idea of good headlight wiring. Every once in a while the bike dies electrically. Off comes the fairing skin whilst I wiggle this and that and reseat the other and somewhere along the line break the short or make the contact. I'll be redoing the main power and the headlight wiring here shortly......

Proud of my boy

My boy Ed blows me away. Kicks butt at school, jams on the guitar, rises to some pretty big challenges....and a snappy dresser, to boot. He loves to get dressed up and I love that that makes him feel good. His imagination is boundless and his sense of humor is off-the-wall. He's like his dad in that he thinks quicker than he articulates, but he's got the tools in his noodle to do fine in this world. I gots me some good kids.

An idle mind

You know what they say about an idle mind. I've been troubled by my inactivity in some areas and I've been looking at what I'm actually doing, it's yield and the "net productivity" I get from my efforts. A kind of personal process audit to look at what I'm doing with the grains of sand in my personal hourglass. Every grain has value, so every grain should yield, right? ROI on another level.

I don't do some things because I do some other things that have an opportunity cost. You do this at the expense of that. You do that knowing there is an obligation to prep or recover so allocated time goes up. More time spent on A and less time left for B. Opportunity cost.

The tricky part of life is that you train yourself over time to engage or eschew activities relative to thier "fit" with other activities or obligations. I don't get home from work and tinker because it's dinnertime with the family and then it's dark where I'd work....I'll just sit my fat duff at the computer and wait on the weekend. When the weekend comes, I might spend more time at the computer because that's what my pattern has become.

Next thing I know, months have gone by and while I have done many productive things with my time, I have not done the elective things that I set goals for and that give me joy.

Sloth of some sort. I want to think of that so I can change that and have more to show from my time. When something comes up for someone else, I'll rise to the occasion and go help and enjoy my time spent and the accomplishment of the task. Quality meets joy. On the other hand, when I have the time to meet my own recreational goals.....I don't always rise to my own occasion. I fix what's broke and I handle what I'm confronted with, but I don't pursue my own liesure activities anymore like I did "in the good old days".

Like everything else, I think the answer is reprogramming yourself. Shift your personal paradigm.

Call me nutso, but I think the following:

Your self image is personal and unique to you. Meaning you see yourself in ways no one around you automatically shares. You don't know what they think of you. You interact with them as though you are what you think you are and that they agree with this. You can imagine that they really don't. It's not malicious, it's just that they apply different views to common experience. That's why 2 family members will have different "versions" of the family history when they talk about it. Different views because their mental wiring makes 2 different people receive the same data in different ways and then interpret it differently and then store memories of it differently. They see you differently than you see yourself. Who's right? Perception is reality. Perception is based on assumptions you apply to your interpretations of external stimuli based on self image, coping skills, advice, previous perceptions....many things.

If you made it through that last paragraph without calling the loony bin on my behalf then I have enough time to write a few more paragraphs before one of you wises up and does so.

So take this:
If perception is based on assumption....and perception is reality....it may logically follow (and may not) that assumptions form reality, subjectively. Not events, but the chronicalling of events and the forming of concepts from those chronicalled events and the linking of concepts to the assumption of their fit in your experience. Viola; preconception-perspective-mindset. We all develop our own realities and make them fit in each others' patterns of life. We avoid conflicting realities and are attracted to accomodating or complimentary realities.

Mindset. Mindset based on assumption. Assumption of my own creation and my experiences may have tuned my receptors to channels of bias that may not promote my well-being which skews my assumptions and "harshes my reality".

Crap. Is it that easy? Can I just assume things don't mean what they seem? Can I change the evidence (my perception of the external stimuli) to fit the conviction? Can I change how I see things to change how things seem so as to affect what I think they mean?


Billions of dollars per year are generated by motivational speakers telling you this is possible. I'm telling you why I think they're on to something.

If I think of myself in the way I wish to be I will act accordingly and percieve accordingly over time and become what I see myself as already. It will require me to make positive assumptions about things I normally allow to "sully my joy". It will require me to shed counterproductive patterns as one who just doesn't acknowlege the pattern anymore. I just don't do those things. It's not "me" as I see myself and want to truly be. I "am" this way because it's who I am and see things this way and they affect me this way so I know/assume/feel this way.

But how do you do all that with checks and balances to ward off the deep plunge into goofy-noodle land?

I am in conflict with my true nature when I don't follow the patterns of my self image....and I suffer accordingly.

Now to figure out what is next.

No fear, my butt.

OK, I got my shoulder back and my hamstrings aren't so strung out anymore. I'm going to work my way back into P90X by starting around J22P on the intensity scale. No demoralizing before shots or "Bring it" cheerleading, just gonna get up to my age bracket in military PT test levels and then a kind/gentle/fun sidling up to P90X.

Ya gotta make it easy when you're recovering. You gotta keep it fun when you're a mostly sedentary shlub bloated with the chemicals of processed foods and damaged by a life of misplaced thrill issues.

God, I love donuts. Damn their happy sprinkled sweet creaminess! Ice cream. 'Nuff said.

Maybe there's a 12-step program for sloth. Hi, I'm EJ. (Hi, EJ) Hmmmm. Sitting around drinking coffee talking about inactivity. Deliciously ironic, no?  ;)

If you look at the military PT scale (no, don't, OK?) you'll see that my goal to warm into P90X is not lofty. More the establishment of the lifestyle of goals and a thirst for accomplishment, milestone by milestone. Right now, I just don't care. I want to ride. I want to drink. I want to wrench.

But.....I need to care for the guy I'll be 10 years from now like I would have appreciated the guy I was 10 years ago getting off his duff to huff. I'd be better off running around like I do with the kids if I had. I want to be better off running around with the teens.

Anyhow, check out this ingenious dude's solution to the age-old problem of surplus crutches and a need to stretch.

If I work out my mind, perhaps I can develop this level of clarity by the time I bring the body out of its slumber.

Be you.

It's always something....

Tired and frustrated....so it's rant time!  8)

You notice over the years that it just seems like every time you get a whoopee, it's followed up with a bummer that absorbs the whoopee. The half-empty in me gets discouraged at those times, but the half-fuller has turned that around to recognizing how bummers just slide off. It's preparedness and knowing that having what you need is the real battle. Having what you want is nice, but having what you need is life.

So am I talking about lowered expectations? Have I lost my noodle and given up to live on scraps of life? Has the wave rolled past my surfboard?

Nah.

I'm just hitting a point where I recognize some basic things about myself that keep me confident, but not complacent. Kind of a Zen-meets-smelling-the-roses thing. I can suffer nothing these days that'll take away the energy I get from doing something with my hands. There's nothing so bad going on in life that I don't still get thrilled by the light coming on for a Scout learning new life skills with my guidance. Yeah, I get to do fun personal things like romp with the righteous on crazy trips with my biker buds and I like to toss some "Hippy Disc" (frisbee golf) here and there, play guitar and you can't get welding something from nothing out of you once it's in you... but these things are diversionary. They are condiments to the actual meal.

I regard myself as intelligent with value to others. I am morally oriented. I recognize a misspent youth. I acknowledge the limitations placed on me by myself and others. I channel my inner Dylan Thomas as I "rage, rage" against my physical ailments, keeping them at bay. I am the product of a lifetime of decision making and adaptations to environments of my choosing. I have some wild and ferocious memories as a result of questionable direction. As Chris Cornell sings in Sunshower, "All you'll be you are today..."

I gotta believe Chris means that you have native abilities that you bring to every new experience. Your unique perspective born of experience and hope. Your desires based on that hope and your grittiness based on the strength of your convictions. You are as ready as you're ever gonna be to do instead of watch. Waiting for some change in yourself or circumstance? All you'll be you are today and you can't change circumstance without action....so act.

The saddest piece of misinformation I've heard in a while was a John Mayer tune about waiting for the world to change. Crap. Crap set to a catchy tune and piped to a somnambulant populace dulled into inactivity by surrogates like reality TV and social internet chat stuff. OMG.
Life is open on all lanes, no waiting. Gird your loins and join the fray. It's a ballet of interaction set to a symphony of circumstance. Daaaaaaaaaance to the muuuuusic!

If you wait for the world to change, it will not change to your benefit and you give the power in your life over to others. You caring nurturers out there (I'm in that number, too) might act under the premise that a healthy, strong YOU is more of a power for helping others than a you that is emotionally strip-mined for lesser net gain. Don't build your personal house on a foundation of sand. Get right and stay that way through the diversions and bummers. Discover the root you and nurture THAT. You gotta "keep on keepin' on" and "do your thing". Then, go build value out in that world you're better prepared for. There is beauty in personal strength. Let your whoopee ward off bummers and go get you mo' whoopee. Seek quality situations that bring value to yourself and others. Put it out there. Take the chance. Don't fear the bummers. %^&* happens.
Keep getting back up.

</rant>

Eryn and Lane

Here's Eryn with Lane a few days after his arrival. That girl was a trooper from start to finish bringing that boy into this world and she's been doing a fine job ever since. She's still "Little Wonder" to me, though. That's just how it is. We live in different states and I miss her dearly, but you play the hand you're dealt.

Happy Monday, one and all. Sore from hiking with the Scouts along the Natches Trace this weekend. We were hotfootin' through some of the most beautiful greenery I've seen since that morning when I left my home. I like some greenery.

The high spirits and positive attitudes of the Scouts and thier leaders is inspiring and it doesn't take much to get me going once I'm with them.

Once Ed and I got past the reluctance of our body and minds to the thought of the ensuing 20 miles, we kind of hit "the zone" where you disengage from the task and just drive on under autopilot. We talked superficially about this and that and then the conversation would turn to concepts of this and that and then get philosophical. Perspectives on the concepts. Higher order analysis. Miles of plodding. Plenty o' time. Ed's 11 years old and pretty much has his head on straight for his age. These gut-check activities help make him that way. I don't push him all that hard. He wanted to do this and he's leading me down the road. He leads me on other levels. As my father once said to me, my son puts me in positions I don't seek, but that add value to my experience and bring us closer. I lead my father to motorcycling and junkyards which turned into our vehicle for cohesiveness and Ed's doing the same with me using Scouts and guitar. Oh, do we like to jam.... I wasn't jamming on the hike, I'm 47 years old with 2 bad knees and more titanium in my spine than brains in my head, but as Buddah (club brother, not Buddist leader) once told me..."All ya gotta be is willing!" Woody Allen said, "80% of success is showing up." So who am I to sit idly by knowing I'm open to 0% success that way?

So many parents use these times as self-time. They drop the kids off to the Scouts, prepared or not, and pick them up at some predetermined point after all the life and trial and conquering and learning and value and purity and quality has been absorbed. Then it's back to mom or dad. How can you miss out on these times? Maybe there's some hard stuff going on that noone knows about and the Scouts are a sanity-check alone-time that allows them to recover and be more stable parents. It'd have to be a pretty darned good reason before I'd miss a moment of my boy's (and the others) development. At least they drop the kids off where they can be built into good, decent men.

1st post prattle. Get used to it. -Joker