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Friday, November 30, 2007

The Rider chapter 2 Snowstorm

"Damn it's cold. At least the bike's running great, as always." All the years David has owned his grandfather's bike, it had never missed a beat, David thought to himself as he rode along toward home. It almost seems like it's gonna snow. He chuckled under his breath and replied to himself, "as if it ever really snows here in the valley and certianly never in June." The wind seemed to have picked up quite a bit and David was having a hard time keeping the bike rolling in a straight line. Small snowflakes started to fall across his face. The weather had changed dramatically in the space of just a few miles. It was getting harder to see. He slowed almost to a crawl when the snow started really coming down. This almost looks like what my grandfather used to call a Nor'easter, he thought. The bike started to falter in it's smooth running cadence and then stalled. "You've got to be kidding me!" yelled David at the now silent bike. "All these years and now you pick to break down?" He quickly scanned his surroundings. He needed to find shelter and it had to be now. Off in the distance he could see a gully that ran under the highway bridge that was just up ahead.


As he pushed the bike toward the underpass, the lone figure of a young man sitting there, tending a small fire seemed to have appeared almost out of thin air. David swung the kickstand down and leaned the bike over on its mount. The man sitting at the fire motioned towards a small crate on the opposite side of the flames from where he sat. David nodded and thanked the man for this unexpected hospitality. "Hell of a sudden storm and damn unusual for these parts," said David. The man nodded in assent but didn't speak for some time. He just looked over at David and seemed to smile just a bit. After a good long while the man spoke. "Is that an old evo sporty?" he asked. "You don't see those much nowadays." David replied. "No, I guess you don't, it was a gift from my grandfather; he left it to me after he passed. Smoothest running bike I ever rode, until tonight." he joked.
"Maybe the bike is like it's former owner; it just doesn't like snow." replied the man.
David laughed and said, "How did you know he hated the snow?"
"Just a guess." said the man as he gently prodded the fire.
"How is it you come to be under here?" asked David.
"Just waiting on a old friend," the man said. "He's gone to check up on his loved one and should be back before dawn."
"Well, I hope he doesn't try riding back in this weather," said David.
"I wouldn't worry about him, I've ridden with him many a mile and the weather doesn't seem to affect him much anymore. He'll be fine."

As the man stoked the fire with more wood, David could see that just behind him was parked a sporty identical to his bike. And the man seemed to look almost familiar to him. David couldn't explain it but he seemed to feel a connection with this stranger he had just met. As the night wore on they chatted on about bikes and what riding meant and the brotherhood that accompanied it. As it neared dawn the rumble of a sweet running V-Twin could be heard coming closer. The bike and it's rider drove up under the overpass and David saw the sharpest looking old panhead he'd ever seen.

The Rider dismounted and walked over to the campfire. He was a young man around David's age. He looked at David almost with a sense of recognition. He pulled a flask from his vest pocket and offered David a drink. David took a swig and almost immediately felt sleepy. He laid on his side and drifted off to sleep.

The Rider spoke to the man at the campfire and said, "Dammit D, when we were on the other side of this veil you never could follow rules worth a damn, but I always figured on this side you would at least try. A Nor'easter here in the valley in June?"
The man at the campfire laughed and replied, "Yeah, well I wanted to see the little shit one more time, and I figured that was a funny way to get him here. I figured no harm done, and he wouldn't recognize us as young men as he never knew us then."
"Well, you took a hell of a chance and the Boss is gonna be pissed that you did." chuckled A-Rod.
"That's all right," replied D, laughingly, "Mama, Julie, Shannon and Veronnica will set him straight, even in his omnipotence he won't take on those four."

As they mounted their bikes and rode out to the highway Kingpin was waiting on his iron steed and with a smile said, "I gotta escort you two clowns to see the boss." Laughing, all three rode off down the highway.


David awoke to find himself sitting next to his Sporty in the warm desert air and wondered how the hell he got there. He was half-expecting to see snow on the ground, while realizing that it had to have been a ridiculous dream. As he got up and turned the key on, the bike fired instantly. He rode out, and for some reason he kept thinking about his grandfather all they way home.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Armegeddon


Hell has just frozen over, the end signs are here, Big Daddy put a windshield on his bike. These are the kind of remarks I've been hearing for that last two days. I don't understand how people can be so flippant about the world ending....How can it be ending? Well...........

I'm overly sensitive and cry easily. So as I ride along thinking about everybody picking on my windshield, I start to cry. The tears in my eyes make it difficult to see. I veer into the oncoming lanes while wiping my tears. The car in the oncoming lane swerves to miss me, thereby hitting a telephone pole. It falls across the lanes of traffic and starts a multi-vehicle pileup. A rig fully loaded with hazardous chemicals plows right into this melee of confusion and spills it's load. This causes the fire department and local police to respond. Upon arriving they call out the hazmat team to contain the spill. Being so close to Luke Air Force Base, homeland security is notified. Naturally, the base goes on high alert. Fighter planes start sweeping the sky. Over in Russia, the satellites spot this flurry of activity. They go on high alert and start circling their planes. This gets noticed by their allies in China and they respond in kind. Of course all this activity spooks the hell outta Japan and Israel. So up go those planes. Iran figures that since all the big players seem to be going defcon 1 they'd better get their shit together before bombs start falling on them. Meanwhile...... Diplomatic relations start trying to contact President Bush about what the hell is going on. Not having any brains to call his own, he decides he'd better call daddy and ask what to do. This causes Papa Bush to mutter to himself, "Oh, shit. What's my dip shit son gonna say stupid in public today?" He remembers that when Junior first started talking, that it freaked out mama Bush so bad her eyes popped and it became a permanent condition. All the while wondering how in the hell of all the swimmers he had, that was the fastest one that created him. He spends the next few hours trying to think of simple words that Junior can understand and pronounce.

The rest of the world now on on extremely high alert and not hearing anything from President Idiot decides his silence is evidence of a preemptve strike and in defense start launhing misslies at each other. This escalates into full blown nuclear war. Armegeddon has arrived. Mankind's day is over..............all because insensitive people picked on my windshield. Big Daddy

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Decade


A Decade.......Ten years. That's 3650 wonderful days......and even better nights! that I have had the pleasure of calling myself ANN'S husband. From starting out with absolutely nothing but old debt, we have built a life. From Massachusetts to Arizona; no questions asked. We knew together we could do it. Never wavered in our support or belief in each other. Struggled through extremely hard situations financial, medical and personal. Suffered through the loss of dear friends and family. The good days far outnumber the bad...though sometimes it might not seem so. But in the final tally, it's been awesome living and loving with Ann by my side.
On her blog page is a musical number....I'm not blog savvy enough to pull that off. But the next time you hear Jerry Rafferty's song "Right down the Line" Just know that was written for her ....Every Damn word of it!!!
{perhaps she'll read this and post the song for me...so all who read this will know the song} Note: to the right, the 2nd video from the top is "Right Down the Line".
I always use a Dave Mann photo for a caption to the post....Today IT'S ALL ABOUT MAMA!!! 143 !!! I LOVE YOU !!! BIG DADDY

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

The Rider



Dawn broke swiftly and silently over the top of the mesa. As the the fluorescent multi-hued rays illuminated the plateau. A lone figure astride his iron mount coalesced into view. A gentle warm breeze floated up the side of the mountain and enveloped the rider. As the breeze wrapped itself around the rider's shoulders, it whispered in his ear, "bring him home". The rider nodded and placed the bike in gear and proceeded down the path. The rider was aware of the honor that had been bestowed upon him by his boss. Not many received this honor. Only those who, in actions and deeds, had stayed true to the concept of brotherhood.


It had been some while since the rider had been on this stretch of road and yet, his familiarity had not abated even a tiny bit. He cracked open the throttle and felt the bike surge ahead. He smiled as the wind cascaded over his body and through his hair. He inhaled the sweet aroma of the desert flowers, which were in full bloom. The bike's sound came alive in his ears. He heard the drumming of the tires on the pavement, and the whine of the primary chain, the resonance of the V-twin as it echoed through the canyon walls. To him it sounded just like summer thunder.
The ride only lasted a short while when the turn he needed to make came up ahead. He crossed onto the gravel driveway; the bike was silent as he coasted up to the front door of the house. The rider dismounted and strode up to the door and silently entered. He passed down the long hallway to the back of the residence and opened a door at the end. He walked up to the left side of the bed and placed his hand on the man's shoulder that was lying there. Gently he patted the man's shoulder as he whispered, "It's time to go". The man stirred awake and clarity came into his eyes. He glanced over at the woman laying beside him and for a brief moment, there was sadness in his face. A young man in his prime sat up and raised himself off of the bed, glancing back at the old weathered body he had just left. The rider observed all this and thought back to when it had been his time. The rider he had known as "Kingpin" had come for him years earlier. And he remembered when "Julie" had come for his Beloved. Only the truly chosen Friend that became brother or sister were afforded the right to escort the newly arrived to his family waiting on this side of the veil. The rider glanced at the still sleeping form of the lady sleeping in the bed and understood the trials ahead for her, whether it be days, weeks or years. To her, time will seem to slow to infinity until it is her time to go. And to those family and friends she knows, her time will seem way too short. When two souls truly find each other, the wait to be reunited feels like an eternity.
The rider walked over to her side and whispered in her ear "Patience, it will only be a short while." The sleeping form did not stir, but seemed to relax with a deep sigh. The young man understood that time in this realm had no meaning, but still, it will seem to be forever until they are together again. The rider spoke to the young man before him and called him by name. "A-Rod my brother, it has been far too long". To which A-rod replied, "Yes, it has, D." With one glance back at the room, they walked down the hallway and out of the house.
In the driveway sat the rider's bike and just beyond it there appeared a new bike. A-Rod understood this to be the boss' bike that was placed at his disposal for the ride out. The choice was his; there were two paths ahead: one leads straight to home the other kept you on this plane until your spouse's time. The rider's mission was to escort him on whichever path was chosen. A-Rod walked over to the bike and threw a leg over and with a twinkle in his eye said, "I guess the old adage is true... He really does ride a Panhead." He fired it up, and with that they both lit out on down the path.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Lucky Man


I never have thanked those service members I am Related to in a public forum. I need to fix that.

First my father Lief H. Nelson WW2 belly turret gunner in a B17 shot down a Focke-Wulf and survived 27 missions over Europe.

Went to Korea as a foot solider and served with honor. rescued two wounded off of a hill and took out two enemy while doing so with his sidearm.......Has been written up in the Stars and Stripes twice. Retired after full service. DFC w/4 oak clusters Airmedal Combat ribbons down his arm and more. And as a footnote, he was the first to cross the 49th parallel in the Korean war on a motorized vehicle........A WLA '45 Harley! Way to go DAD! Proud to be your son.

My Brothers Walt, Gary and Mark......Vietnam. Various Distinctions.

My Brother Gene. National guard and currently serving for the Pentagon.

My Proudest moments are listed below.

My son Rex - U.S Navy served on CVN-73 GEORGE WASHINGTON, now stationed in Okinawa, Japan.

My son Eric - U.S Air Force Aircraft support specialist. Now stationed in Korea.

My daughter Samantha - U.S Navy. Norfolk, Virgina.

My only regret in life is I was unable to serve due to my hearing loss.

To those listed above and many more past, present and future: a big "Thank you"!
BIG DADDY

Monday, August 20, 2007

Ritual of Honor


David awoke with a throbbing hangover. He staggered out of his room into the kitchen, ran his fingers through his hair, belched, leaned over the coffee pot and lit a cigarette. "That was a helluva party last night," he mused to himself. "I can't get over how many people showed up. I gotta straighten up, I got a lot to do today, and it has to be done right. Having been taught the honor and integrity of brotherhood from them, he knew Gramps and Grammy shouldn't deserve anything less." He shoved a coffee down his throat, reached over and put on the leather riding vest that was hanging neatly on a peg in the hallway and headed out to the garage.



As he entered, he saw the old 1988 1200 Sportster sitting over in the corner. It was in well worn, yet in pristine shape for a 50 year old bike. He ran his hand over the candy-brandywine paint where the color had grown thin from years of polishing. Amazing, he thought to himself, it still shines like new. He glanced the seat, well worn from years of riding, faded in spots, yet still supple and not a tear in it. He then passed his hand lovingly over the script painted on the oil tank that read 'Annabelle' his Grandmothers name. The bike's moniker bestowed years before he was even born. "Can you believe how many people showed up to honor you and Gramps?" he said to the name on the bike. He then checked the straps holding an old Ironhead jug that was sitting on the back seat. Threw a leg over and turned on the ignition, it barely cranked a half second before igniting with a sharp crackle and then setted down to a nice loping idle. He tapped the gear lever down into first and felt the solid "snick" as it went into gear. smiled to himself thinking, "Jesus, what a bike."



He eased the clutch and rolled down the driveway out to the street. He looked down the road to see 30 or 40 bikes and riders lined up along both sides of the road. He rode slowly to the head of the street as all the bikes fell in place behind him and headed out to the highway for the 30 mile trip to Biker mountain. Biker mountain had been purchased and so named by the confederation of bikers who acquired it after the millions of dollars that came in from all over the world in honor of the lifestyle and Brotherhood. So many donations came in that a 10,000 acre parcel of land was bought and had a platinum statue of a Harley. It had been built by some of the finest artisans in the world. The sheer size of it was only matched by the Crazy Horse statue in the Dakotas.



There was a set of steps leading up the side of the mountain. At the top, surrounding the statue was a circular platform surrounded by flags of every MC in clear view .With a promontory looking over the valley below, known as Brotherhood Point. At the very top of the stairs was marble sarcophagus flanked by four brothers wearing colors of various clubs. Behind the sarcophagus was a round marble platform with a small opening that was covered by a sliding solid platinum cover. Down at the base of the stairs off to the right was a marble path that wound up the side of the mountain to the top.



As David came to within a thousand feet of the base he stopped to let the other bikes pass by. They rolled up to the entrance and parked in fluidly smooth motion against the curb lining the road; front wheels out and tires leaning towards the mound. David slid the Sporty into gear and proceeded towards the entrance. He smoothly turned the bike onto the marble pathway and started towards the top. As he rode on it seemed to him 'Annabelle' was hesitating up the hill. To him it seemed the bike didn't want to go.



As he reached the top of the summit, he stopped, got off the bike and undid the straps,removed the Ironhead jug. He walked over to the four bikers who parted and let him pass to the sarcophagus. He set the jug down on the platform and addressed the Tomb in front of him, "I am here to pass the remains of my grandparents to the shelter of this hallowed ground. I respectfully ask that you receive them into your honored protection." After speaking briefly about who and what his grandparents stood for and believed in, he walked to the back of the platform and slid the platinum cover aside and removed his grandfathers leather and placed it in the opening so that it would fall onto the thousands of brothers' vests that came before.



He stepped back and two of the guards came forward and escorted David and the jug over to Brotherhood Point. The remaining two Brothers rolled the bike over to the Point. David reached over and opened up the jug and poured its contents over the side of the Point to the valley below. As the ashes poured forth from the jug, a gentle breeze seemed to catch the ashes in it's path and it seemed as if the tendrils of dust reached down and caressed the bike then passed over to David and lightly brushed on his shoulder. As it did so, he could have sworn he felt a gentle squeeze from a pair of hands in unison and he heard what sounded like the sweetest V -Twin that ever ran, fire up and fade out as the filaments of dust drifted out over the valley below. "I must be hearing things", he thought as he walked over to the Sporty. As he did so he paid tribute to the brothers who stood by him for the ceremony with a hand clasp and brothers' hug.



When he turned to get on the Sporty, he heard one of the brothers say, "That was a sweet sounding bike your grandparents rode to Valhalla."

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Why I Ride


In this day and age of prozac and therapy bills, I ride my bike.

It is the purest form of therapy there is. Many people have remarked to me that I don't seem to get pissed off a lot. Most things that aggravate people just slide off my back, and I just shine it on. Money woes are always there I had 'em when I made too much money [never enough] and I have them when I don't. It's a constant in everybodys life, so why sweat it?

I've got great friends who can help me if I ask. And I'll help them in return anyway I can. It works out. It always does. I have a good friend which we call KRAMER. He's going through some tough financial shit. He'll get past it. He's got friends. And a reasonably good head on his shoulders. And I noticed that when he rides or even just talks bikes, problems are forgotten for the moment.
I look at it this way when I wake up tommorow, I'll figure out a solution...and If I don't wake up again....Well it ain't that big a problem anymore. What do I think about when riding? I look at the countryside, feel the wind rush past me, how proud I am of my kids, how I've got great friends and of course I think of Annebelle. And When she's on the Bike with me....pure Heaven. I don't need to drink, do drugs, etc... there is no high that can compare. And when I ride solo........I think Anabelle.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Headache


Boy I got a splitting headache today. Here's how it happened, I was driving along and out of nowhere I get hit with an IDEA. Now the Idea it self is not important. The fact that in order to have a Idea you have to be thinking. I did not intend to think........and didn't really want to.

BUT. I wasn't paying attention and my brain fired up on it's own. {DAMMIT] Now onto the subject of my Idea, They say there are no new Ideas under the sun. Everything that can be thought has been. {Who they?....I don't know and I ain't thinking about it either] So with that in mind...If there are no new Ideas...This must be someone else's loose thought. So I would appreciate You people keeping a tighter rein on your thinking so I don't have to catch your random thought you threw out wiiynilly. { Who you?...I don't frigging know and if I did I wouldn't tell you.

.....There now you gotta do some thinking:] } Enjoy my headache. I gotta go take a nap.

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Hey, Wait A Minute!!!


Eric CANNOT be 22! I'm gonna tell you why: It's simple math.

1st of all, I'm not 43, as rumor has it. And if you factor in my mental age, which is about 13. (The picture above is proof of this - I think that's art!) Even if you take the rumored age of 43 and subtract 13, that makes me 30, nowhere near old enough to have a 22 year old kid!

Now if I had a 22 year old, he would be extremely intelligent, good looking, not willing to take anybody's shit, has a mind of his own, is loyal to his friends and family, loves his wife, and he would know that Daddy needs another Harley!

So while this sounds like Eric...oh, hell, I guess I have to admit you don't get that many gray hairs in your beard at 30. So the little shit must be mine!!!

I couldn't be more proud!

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Thinking

Welcome To My Blog

Soon to be off and runnin'!!!