Today I said goodbye to a very close and dear friend, one that stood by me, carried me, got me out of tough situations, and made me feel more free than anything else. No, I’m not talking about some clandestine lover who passed. I’m talking about my 1993 Harley Davidson Sportster.
I donated her to Cars for Causes because of a major engine problem that would have cost more to repair than the bike is probably worth. As the tow driver loaded up the Sporty on the flatbed, I reflected on all the good times I had on that bike, and even some of the bad ones.
A little over a year ago, some absent minded driver decided that she wanted to be in the same lane I was in, but forgot her basic physics where two masses cannot occupy the same space. I came out pretty close to unscathed, but the Harley was tore up. No worries, I have awesome insurance and the bike made a full recovery, or so I thought.
About two weeks after getting the bike back from the shop, the motor took a dump, threw a rod, and made some hellacious noises. After lots of research, I realized that rebuilding the bike was going to be too complicated for me to handle, not that I couldn’t, but I just didn’t want to put the energy into it. The bike that gave me tons of good times just didn’t have the same appeal to me anymore. So I locked her up in the garage until I figured out what I wanted to do next.
Since we got nailed pretty hard on taxes this past year, I finally decided to try and donate the bike for the right off. Of course, I did it for charitable reasons, but I’d really like to not take such a hit next year. Plus, it helps on the cash flow since I’m not paying for the insurance anymore.
I’ll miss her, but she’s going to a good home. Now that she’s gone, I think my mother feels a lot better. She never liked the ride, always thought I was bound to die on it. I’m sure Les is happy for that too, because whose going to teach the kid how to be good man if I’m wrapped around a telephone pole?
Tweet This Post
I’m not exactly sure why this is, but I think my creativity works in cycles. It ebbs and flows with the tide and builds only when I’m working at a frenetic pace on other projects. My art and my writing are always effected.
The last couple weeks at the day job have been a little slow, nature of the magazine beast, but I noticed that I was having a hard time coming up with original content for Artsipop during this period. Conversely, the week before all that, when I was really busy at the office, I had post ideas spinning circles in my head, waiting for an outlet. It’s almost as if my creativity kicks in most when I’m the busiest or most stressed out.
…And The Rub
Having all these ideas flowing while I’m busy doing other things makes it tough to actually get any writing done. I have lots of ideas, but no way to turn that potential energy into posts for your perusal.
I must learn to stop beating myself up for not writing as often as I’d like. I’ve spoken before about having fewer things to write about because there’s really not much going on while the kid is still in the belly. This has a lot to do with the post frequency, because not a lot of new stuff happens. Sometimes I feel my bi-weekly updates about the pregnancy are just a way for me to fill space. I hardly talk about the actual pregnancy, but rather, the circumstances surrounding our pregnant life. I’m not always exactly on topic, but try to stay in the basic vicinity.
Being ok with derivatives is a big issue with me. I have no idea why, but I feel that if I move to far to the edge of things, I may end up losing my focus, and you’ll all leave me. Please don’t leave me. Please! I need all the friends I can get, especially when I need to get out of the house because I can’t stand the smell of baby wipes any longer. Someone needs to ask me out for a beer and some testosterone driven sporting event. I wonder if there’s any coincidence between our baby coming and most sporting event seasons being over. Hmm, it could be a conspiracy.
Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Pay no attention to the monkey in front of the keyboard, folks. It gets better than this, I promise.
Tweet This Post
Dear Aidan,
It’s May and you’re a little less than 9 weeks away from entering the cold, hard world. I’ll be doing this a lot over your life, but I’m wishing you the best of luck. I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion, but you’re also going to have a lot of support. Of course your mother and I will always be here for you, thick or thin, but aside from us, you’ve got a network of family that’s going to back you up whenever you need it—and it’s getting bigger all the time.
In about 5 weeks, your Mom’s cousin is giving birth to a boy of her own. Also, your cousin Ryan turns 1 in August, and your other cousin, Tad, is just a few months older than that, which means you’re going to have lots of kids to play with growing up. There’s also a slew of friends that have kids, but you’ll always be the “baby” of the group with them, so be prepared to get picked on a little, or have them run away while you’re just trying to hang out. Don’t get down on that though, because at some point, they will want to hang out, and being the only boy in a slew of girls, you’ll be REAL popular.
Back on the family for a bit, you’ll find out soon enough that your family is HUGE, really, almost out of control big, 95% of which is your Mom’s side. The family tree is pretty convoluted, but now that I’m finally getting a handle on all the names, I’m finding it pretty cool to have all these people around. Get-togethers are something to behold. Mom knows she’s got a big family, but she doesn’t give it much thought because she grew up with it, but it really is astounding to me because my side of the family is so much smaller, especially these days.
The truth is, I don’t talk to one side of my family much anymore. It’s a really complicated story, and I’m not going to go into too much detail now, but I promise to tell you the whole thing one day. What is important is that even though I don’t have much family, I have some of the best friends a guy could have. They’re like brothers to me, so they will be like uncles to you. There’s also your grandparents, both on mine and mom’s side, who will almost assuredly spoil the hell out of you.
I guess what I’m saying is that no matter what happens in your life, no matter what happens to your mom and I , you got people.
Tweet This Post
I can’t believe how close we are to the arrival. Nine weeks (or less) and baby Aidan will be a reality, not just a amorphous blob that’s trying to push it’s way out of my wife’s belly. It’s the strangest thing ever to see the movement under her shirt when she’s sitting there on the couch; little feet or hands or something, poking upward in an effort to get more comfortable. If he only knew now how uncomfortable it was going to get once he hits the cold air of the real world, he might not want to come out.
This weekend we attended the baby shower for Leslie’s cousin, who is about 4 weeks ahead of Les. A sign of things to come, we’ve got a couple of our own planned, one for friends and another for Leslie’s extensive family. I know that sounds a little crazy, but when I say extensive, I mean the family is so big, the could form their own baseball league—Yes, an entire league.
Of course, this means lots of gifts, which is nice because some of this baby stuff can’t get pretty damn expensive, but ultimately it’s about sharing something cool with everyone at one time. There’s very little opportunity to get everyone we know in room to celebrate something as awesome as this. Of course there are holidays and other gatherings, but this is a chance for Leslie to be the center of attention for a bit. With the burden she’s bearing, she deserves some attention.
She also deserves a couple bottles of wine, and a chocolate cake all to herself, but that comes later I guess.
Tweet This Post
