Gone.....

....and not coming back.

I don't know who even bothers to read this anymore. I haven't had anything to say recently anyway. But there have been some big changes.

Today is my 42nd birthday. Two months ago I sold most of my possessions, gave away most of my clothes, and threw away or burned everything else and moved from Oklahoma City to Los Angeles. Everything I own fits in my truck with 488,000 miles on it and a cracked windshield. My motorcycle, good tools, guns, a few clothes, camera, computer, the blanket my sister made for me, and all my money in cashiers checks. My life had degraded so much, that I was hardly recognizable to my friends, what few of them I even saw anymore. I left in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. Didn't take a look around, didn't say goodbye to anybody, didn't even turn on the radio until I was past Amarillo. Less then a handful of people even knew I was leaving, but nobody knew when. I slipped out of town unnoticed and most likely, unmissed. The attached picture was sent out via text message as I reached the California border. I came here without a definate plan and without anything specific in mind, except leaving behind the misery.

California has been good to me. I've got a great job. I've gained some weight back. I'm learning to surf, I bought some new clothes and got a decent haircut. I've made some friends, the people here seem to like my way of talking and my sense of humor, which I have recently rediscovered. I used to be the funniest guy any of my friends knew, they told me that all the time. The weather here is perfect everyday. I sleep on the back porch some nights. I'm a regular at Angels games, people give me tickets all the time and I have caught two foul balls so far. I go to the beach often. Huntington is closest, but I prefer Newport, which is only 15 minutes away. On Sunday I usually ride the bike. Sometimes to Malibu, sometimes up the canyons and into the mountains, sometimes to Hollywood to harass the maniacs. I don't feel like a tourist here, and I have yet to meet an asshole. Maybe I just don't give them a chance to be assholes.

People have called wondering where I am. They are shocked when I tell them. I don't know why. I spent years being a good friend to people in Oklahoma. I helped you people move when you asked, I watched your dogs when you went on vacation, I cut your grass when your mower was broken. I drove you home when you were drunk and called me at 2am. I can honestly say I never refused a friend, whether you needed money, a strong back, a tool, advice, a ride, something to eat, or anything else you dreamed up. And then I fell down.... and nobody was there to help. You saw me lose 40 pounds in 5 months and never asked me over to dinner. You saw my sunburned and weather beaten face. You knew I was alone and didn't ask if I wanted company. I guess you just assumed that I was a smart guy who had money and would just figure it out on my own. So I did. I got sick of feeling sorry for myself and wishing my life was different, and I did something about it. Some of you have even said I had guts to do it and that there was no way you could have done the same thing. Your probably right.

There are things I miss. And the people that I am missing are still on my mind. But I am doing good. I like it here, and it likes me. I work my ass off and get paid well. But then, I've never really had a problem making money, have I? I do my best everyday, and my best is way better than most everybody else's best, as it has been all my life in everything I've chosen to do. I can't imagine that I will die anywhere except for Texas, so I will be leaving here some day. But for now and the forseeable future, I am here. So if you read this, and you want to come see me... come on out... whenever you want. My number is still the same and you can call me whenever you want. You might be surprised at what you find on the other end of the line.

Marcine's Big Sendoff

Buried my first best friend's Mom last weekend. As mentioned earlier, Marcine died a few weeks ago in College Station and was cremated. Shane and family brought her ashes to the tiny Oklahoma Panhandle town of Forgan and we had a graveside service for her there. All of the boys were there.... Mike, Bascomb from LA, the local clowns, and me. It was amazing to me to see how this simple woman, with no money to speak of, from one of the smallest towns in the US, had such a profound effect on those she came in contact with.

Shane has always been one of the most solid people in my life. We became fast friends 20 years ago, and have been in each other's lives ever since. He is an enormous person, with a personality to match. I've come to admire him for the husband and father he is, especially considering he had no father in his life. He had moved Marcine down to CS five years ago or so, to take care of her.... and he did. She died at home, with him and his wife by her side. Her last words were; "I love you". To watch my friend, this giant of a man, struggle to maintain his composure as he eulogized his mother and thanked his wife for her loving care of her, was most likely the most difficult thing I've ever witnessed in my life. I'd like to tell you I made it out of there with my own emotions in check, but I'd be lying to you. My thoughts were drawn to the three children in my immediate life, and the way that they need a father, and that maybe God or whoever started all of this, put me here to love their mother and them. Marcine taught us so much by going away, and forcing us 4 guys who've known each other for so long to sit together and really communicate about how we feel about each other and how we've changed each other's lives. Coming out better friends evan than we were before, and with more of an understanding of what we want for the rest of our own lives.

Thank you Marcine... for being so good to all of us. And for giving us your son, who is part of the glue that holds so many of us together. You left the world a better place than you found it.

In Memorium

Marcine. My best friends mom. Lived her life in the tiny town of Forgan in the Oklahoma Panhandle. It's a tough place to live, and subsequently breeds the toughest, and in many cases nicest, people you will meet.

I met her son my sophomore year of college and we've been friends for the last 20 odd years. Every now and then, we'd go to Forgan for a weekend and Marcine was always there to feed us and let us crash on the floor of her tiny house. She never gave us any shit for coming home late or in the back of a cop car either. She had Shane later in life and was a senior citizen while we were in college, but she always got around great and came down to Stillwater to see us several times. She lived the last several years with Shane and her grandkids in College Station and it was always good to visit and see her. She took people as they were and was friendly to everyone. Although she lived a long and good life, and her leaving is the end of her signifigant pain, there are several big, tough, guys that are really sad right now.

Little Sisters.....

So what does this look like to you? A mild mannered Navy wife living in the San Fernando Valley? Maybe.... but this is actually a Ninja. You want to be an ex wife or ex girlfriend who wants to fuck with me and make my life hell? Go ahead.... but my sister knows where the information is and how to get it. She will figure out why you are so damn sketchy. She's fucking ruthless and not scared to tell me if you're a piece of crap. She also makes gluten - free chocolate chip pancakes... so fuck off.

FRISCO CREW

Forget what you make think of San Fransisco, and know that this group is still keeping it from completely becoming Sodom and Gomorrah. They way these guys live their lives and treat each other is the way I imagine the Roman Legionaries did in the days of Pompey Magnus. Theirs is a world of hard work, hard circumstances, getting a job done, scraping by, standing independent in a city that encourages you to take a handout. Wherever they are, something is happening. Ride your bike with them around the City for an afternoon and you will realize your skills are horribly lacking. You'll also realize that those clowns at the local "bike night" in the Flingers parking lot are nothing but fucktards who have a $700 monthly payment to live a Bob Seeger song for 3 hours a week.

Friends in Low Places....

I've got nothing interesting happening right now, so I want to make several posts about people I know and have met along the way. You may know some of them, most you probably don't. But they are my people, and I've deemed them worthy to write about.

Let's start with this guy. Most of you know of him. Certainly the types that would be reading my shit would. To sum up my feelings about him: He's complicated. I've known him to be incredibly cool, and I've known him to be a dick. I've got the same failings myself, it's just that nobody is looking at me. He's had a shitty year, and I hope things are getting better for him. He and I had the same type of year basically, pretty much down to the letter. But again, nobody gives a shit what I'm up to. You can all think what you want, and leave a shitty comment, but this is my position: I have arguably the coolest, most badass motorcycle sitting in my garage waiting for spring so I can terrorize the streets again, and it's about 30% because of him. When he wants to be he is the most encouraging and inspiring person I've ever met. A compliment from him, can, and has, sent me home from a party to spend hours at my workbench in the attempt to make something that is already great, even better. His skills are unquestionable, and he is outstanding at anything he feels like being good at. His is a true American story, up from nothing and to the top, all built on calluses and cuts, frustration, fear, talent, competitiveness, luck, and for sure a few dirty deeds. He's down now, and it's his own fault, and he knows it. Some people are enjoying giving him a kick right now too, but those will be the same people that will line up to slobber on his balls when he comes back.... and he'll come back. ....I just hope everybody gets their bikes.

OKC to San Diego to Frisco...and back.

This last summer I took this thing out to California to ride around in paradise for a couple of days, and to take it to WCC and get some pics in front of the shop. I had fucked up my life in a signifigant fashion at the time with some women trouble. That trouble appears to be behind me now and I'm spending my time, and possibly my life, with a great lady and her three great little ladies. This trip allowed me to spend a lot of time alone thinking about what I want and where I'm heading. I'm thankful for the life I have, and the people I have to share it with, and the responsibility that goes with it.