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“The last thing you need in your life? Some one else’s problems”
Life In My Father’s House

All good Indians go out to prove valor. As all good soldiers do. And all good men.
To live once in the glory of battle and to become immortal, and live on victorious.

I know that it is a small, stupid, feeble lie. But it is ours. And we will do our best. And we will shine.

I ride on your memory of me. I ride on your expectations.

I am free.

And I make you free. And build a path for you to follow, so that while you adventure, your feet may be safe inside my foot-steps. Although I always know that you may and can and will stray off it to your own destiny.

At least I showed you the way. But after that. . . you are on your own, my beautiful girl.

Walking in your own clear path. And Free.

A funny conversation the other night. About how I do not share the details of my life with you.

First: it is difficult to do if you are not there.

Second: It is more difficult to do in a place where the volume of the music is at 220 decibels, with 40 other people interrupting because they want to talk with us.

Third: As I said to you last night, I did not think that you were that particularly interested. Besides, who cares about anyone else’s past unless they are really interested. In which case they would pick a quiet place and time to ask actual questions and work through a conversation. In order to get wise to the other person’s Life.

If a person is interested, a person only has to ask. If it was important. And if there was enough time to actually hear. And time is a luxury we do not seem to share, or have, you and I. Like the photographs.

Notice I did not say listen – I said: “Hear”. Two different things.

Lastly: Perhaps the best time is not at 2:00 am. After the derangement of noise, alcohol and fatigue.

Thank God it’s Friday – with My White Lady

My Beautiful 1980 Honda CB 900 FZ Bol d'Or. My Pretty "White Lady".

So. Here I am with my nose to the grind stone, eyes on the ball, finger on the button, and ear to the ground, my head in the clouds and my back to the wall, my elbows in the grease with my shoulder to the wheel, my ducks in a row, my head on the block, my other finger on the pulse, my feet on the ground, my bum in a sling and my balls in a vice, my hand in the cookie jar, iron in the fire, my other hand in the till, asleep on the job, my finger in the pie, out on a limb throwing caution to the wind. . . Thank God its Friday?

The hum of the engine turns to a throaty roar as I twist the throttle. . . .UP! Just me and the “White Lady”. . . chasing dotted lines in the dark. . . out here on the edge of crystal black sky, black road to somewhere.
We are Stoned. . . Immaculate. I Just Wish. . .

FOREWORD.
I mean foreword is fore-armed. So worded and armed you can proceed into this Byzantine labyrinth safe in the knowledge that the only other occupant is a slightly demented and very dangerous minotaur. Who cannot be reasoned with – but can be bribed. For the time being. The present incumbent. And should you perchance, slay him, you will become the “present incumbent”.
Others will test against you.
Remember: after this, you can Never sleep peaceful, again. Not after tonight.

For all of my life I have kept many secrets to honor the memory of one, so dear to me, so close as sin, and a life I wished for you. Gradually over the years I have become more uncomfortable with the idea of dying without recording what I know. With a growing urgency, I also feel I need to write an account of my own actions into the record.

I have always been afraid that sharing any details of my relationships, diminishes those relationships.

But some of these stories are going to be revealed here, and I must warn you that you are going to be delighted and shocked.

Delighted at the recognition of your self. Shocked to realize there was more to this than you ever imagined. MORE than just you.

And there will be some disappointment amongst you too, I am certain. Since had you ever used that device you call a brain, and dredged your imagination out of it, and polished it with a just bit more passion, and enthusiasm. . . and humor, we could have at some point, survived our own arrogance.

SO I HAVE TO SAY THIS IN CAPITALS AND SPOIL THE INTRO, BECAUSE I KNOW THAT SOME OF YOU (all) WILL ALREADY BE GETTING READY TO SPIN OUT AND GO BALLISTIC – YOUR STATE OF MIND IS A DISGRACE, YOU WILL BE JEALOUS BECAUSE YOU ARE LIVING WITH SOME MAN AND READING ABOUT WHAT YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE. He may be a fine man, and he may be a bastard.

But I can be both – DEPENDING ON YOUR OWN BEHAVIOUR. Lessons in Life #77.

Luckily for me - I FINALLY found my Saving Angel - my Unforgettable Shiny Wife! >

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