The thing about being a writer is that once you start you can’t quit. I recently moved and lost access to a very nice computer that I have composed most of my stories on. Having to re-adjust is difficult, but not impossible. A writer needs to write, no matter the location. When I don’t write for a few days, something feels out of sorts. Even though my current office is not the best, being that it’s a bar, I am moving forward and making it happen. This blurb may not be the best thing to come out of me, but at least I’m doing it. The act of writing means everything to me. The question is, where do I go from here?
As most things in a person’s life, sometimes ‘shit happens’. Why it seemingly happens to me more than others is a bit of a mystery. I’m not complaining, but I certainly find it interesting. At least it gives me something to write about. Take last night as an example:
I have been involved in motorcycle racing since the mid-eighties. Most of my friends ride and race at the track. These talented men and women are very focused and dedicated to their craft. Riding is dangerous and takes total concentration. The skill involved makes for a very sharp personality and a quick mind. These are my people, and I am attracted to them. Anytime they congregate for a social occasion, I want to be there and soak up the energy; last Saturday night I did just that.
MotoLady is a riding group that knows how to have fun. On Saturday the group celebrated their second anniversary, and it was…well…WILD! The moment I walked into the Tonic Lounge, people noticed. I grabbed a Pabst and tried to blend in. I am 6 ft 5 in, and 256 pounds. Blending in is not my strong suit, but I try.
I was fortunate enough to see Paul at the bar, drinking his own PBR. Paul is a friendly sort that likes to chat with everybody. He knew I was new to this group, so he decided to introduce me around. I believe his opening line was, “This is Don Van Kirk, local ‘legend’ in the motorcycle world.” This caught me a little of guard at first, but I did sort of like it. The girls I met were subsequently interested in me and before long I found myself playing pool with two of them. (I know what you’re thinking. Yes, they were young enough to be my daughters! But this didn’t seem to matter to them, so it didn’t matter to me either. Besides, everybody tells me I don’t look my age, so this night I was their age.) One of the gals, Alicia, has a good friend that is a stunt rider. This woman, Leah, can do things on a motorcycle that defy gravity. I’ve been visiting her Facebook site to look at her photos. Incredible is a good word and so is unbelievable. She has performed all over the USA and Europe, and even for the troops overseas. Oh, and she can play pool too. Nice!
I don’t know how to describe it, but there is something about an attractive young lady in a short dress, hiked up over a pool table trying to reach a shot that…well….it gets a mans attention. (This is where I pause for a moment of reflection.) Yep, that should do it (Nope, here comes another image.) OK! Enough. I could go on, but words are not enough in this case.
Next year I expect to be at the third annual MotoLady party and I’m not wasting any time at the bar. I’m grabbing Alicia and Leah and heading straight for the back room and another pool lesson. Please do not disturb.
(to be continued)
“It’s hard to get a limp noodle through a broken weenie,” by John K