...with little money, not much prep, and a lot of stuff that really needs to get done... at home?
It just sounds kinda crazy... don't it?
But... Why not? What are ya gonna do? Draft my wore out kiester and send me to... Afganistan?
What's gonna change if I just keep on keepin' on as things have been? What's gonna "Get Better" if I just participate in perpetuatin' the same Ol' same Ol'? How do I capture my dreams... if I let 'em keep on outrunning me?
At some point... a fella has to straddle the saddle, twist the throttle, and ride off into the wind!... or nothing... not one damn thing... is gonna happen... other than a few more wrinkles... a deeper sense of frustration... and an ever blacker brooding.
How about; 'Cause if I don't, my soul is gonna shrivel up and die. How about; because without the restoration
of some Freedom, injected back into my life... my life won't be worth an once of anti-monkey butt powder... thrown into the wind!
As a Mustang requires open range to run on, to feed the needs of its' spirit... I require that Ribbon of Highway, stretching out in front of me.
The system Demands; "Feed me... Take care of me... Sacrifice your life on a mindless, endless, cancerous treadmill... where only, I the system,... benefit!... You are the expendable FEED for my consumption!"
My reply to the "system"?... Pack up your crap and get out of my face... or I'll leave Metzler 210 tire burns on your backside!
This trip is to Alaska... Hell, it might as well be to Toledo... The Destination really should have little to do with it... It's the Soul feeding Joy a man gains, rolling two wheels down an Open Road that is my goal... The destination always, only, turns out to be the end of a trip... I'd just as soon never reach that end!
For me the trip is the goal... getting there... is melancholy.
But, this time, the Destination does have purpose. It's to, belatedly, fulfill a promise made to each other... by a bunch of guys too many years ago... what we were gonna do, when we got home.
I'm the only one that can make the ride... the only one who came home.
So... I ride... one damn way or another... too many years surrendering to the betrayal of a carnverous system. Too many years feeding bits of my soul to a Beast that couldn't care less about any of us.
Too many years of waiting for "things" to get better...
You know what happens when you wait?... You get Older...
... otherwise little, if anything, happens. You want "things" to change... You gotta go out... grab that Beast by the Ears and shake the bastard till his eyes cross and his teeth go rattlin' down the street like chicklets!
Well, his ears are sore... his lips are all sunk into a face missin' its' teeth! ... and one Crazy Ol' Biker Cowboy is rollin' a big Red RoadStar Raider Motorcycle down his never ending Ribbon of Highway... Laughin'!
Haaaaaa ha ha ha ha.... Haaaaaaaa heee heee heee Ha Ha!
It is By God! Good To be ALIVE!
Grab Your Handles and Ride!
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