I'm a wimp

Yes, I've reached a terrible milestone in my life. The sun is shining, it looks like its going to be a beautiful day in the 50s and I drove the truck to work because, and I quote what I said as I walked out the front door, "I don't feel like being cold."  I never thought I would reach this level of wimpiness.  Who would have thought that I would reach a point where I can't endure 10 minutes of coldness to get to work so that I can enjoy riding on a beautiful day later. 

I've been caught in so many rainstorms I can't remember them all. I was caught in an April blizzard in Utah once with snow blowing sideways so hard I couldn't see right in front of me. I've been hailed on. I've had poop fly out of the back of a cattle truck and hit me right in the faceshield. Just a few years ago I was riding to work when the air temperature was 16 degrees (at 70 mph that's -23).

What has happened to me?!  I've been looking around for a new vehicle of some type because my truck is slowly dying. I've always thought Jeeps were cool until I sat in a few of them and now I've ruled them out because the seats are not padded enough!  Can you believe that!!!  This is a reality I never thought I would have to face.

I still have no idea what I'm gonna get but for now I'm not gonna worry about it.  I'm just gonna go home from work tonight, wrap a blanket around me, sit in my rocking chair and drool while I hum to myself.

Blogger's Guilt

I realize it's been a long time since I've updated this blog thing, but honestly I have excuses. My first excuse is that I lost a good friend of mine; my next door neighbor. His sudden death has left me feeling sullen and a little down. I'm amazed at how quickly things can change and I feel so sorry for his wife. It's one of those things where I wish there was more I could do to help her but I don't know what it would be. He was a great guy and very patient with me; a perpetual klutz in everything I did with him it seemed. There are just some things that certain people should never do. It's a simple fact.  He tried to take me golfing once (and I'd never been) and I was so bad that it took hours and hours just to play nine holes. Every hole we had to stop and let people play through to avoid mass rioting.  I know I embarrassed the heck out of him but he never said a word. Strangely enough, he never invited me to go golfing with him ever again.

He got a Harley and we went on a couple of rides together. Nothing very far, just half day trips. But it was really fun.  Most recently he helped me paint my motorcycle.  He taught me how to do all the sanding and prep work and stood back and let me do it.  He had a lot more experience with anything to do with cars, or in this case bikes,  than me but he still let me do a lot of the work; and that's the best way to learn.  When it came time to actually apply the coats of the color he gave the paint gun to me on one of the smaller parts and after a few strokes back and forth with the gun he realized that it was gonna be a lot easier for him to actually paint the thing than to go back and fix it after I do it.  And I'm glad he did.  It turned out absolutely perfect.  There are a few very small areas that show we were amateurs who did a paint job in his garage, but only someone who knows what they're looking at would see them.  And I'll never change anything about it because every time I look at the little spots or areas I'll think of him. Every time I see a black Roush Mustang, or any Mustang, I'll think of him. 

I really miss him and I think about him all the time.

Below are a few pictures of our work.  Let me know what you think.