Observations…

As I visited with friends yesterday, the realization of how clicky life can be hit me. Most people have no clue that they separate themselves from others, because they usually assemble in groups of 6 – 10 or so and it doesn’t feel like you are not associating with people that way, because of the safety of familiarity. But, if you are not a part of that group, you are treated cordially, but noticeably separate.

I’m sure most of it is just a defense mechanism for our own insecurities, when we don’t feel comfortable around people that don’t believe the way we do, or don’t share the same ideological convictions. When you try to associate with these individuals when they are apart from their tribe, there tends to be long moments of silence caused mainly by our inability to communicate on more than one level. That tends to be rooted in a religious mentality that supersedes any genuine human interaction. Even the ones that you have seen take off their masks in other settings, tend to be somewhat less than genuine in larger settings of their peers.

What I have noticed over the last 2 years, is the people I have been associated with for the last 4 years, have refined their inside/outside mentality, and find it easy to have an opinion not based in reality. Most settle for one persons story, even if that person has nothing to do with the individual that story is about. And because of the click in relationships, the storyteller has earned trust and is believed, while the truth is usually left to the presenality of the one who is actually the main character in the story.

 

Death of a loved one changes us all….

Is seems that statement is only partially true, that is until you personally face it, and that change is inevitable. But for those that mourn at the funeral of a loved one, and walk away, sometimes it awakens that need to draw closer to distant relatives. And other times it seems to cause a further separation, even from family you once were close to. 

I have always been one that wears my heart on my sleeve, and I usually speak my mind, even when others don’t want to hear it. That has gotten me in trouble in the past with powers that be, and I have even tried to silence that part of me that speaks the truth. Some say that you should filter your thoughts before actually speaking them, because it may offend. But isn’t that the point? Everyone is filtering their thoughts, and putting a different mask on depending on which group or club we are gathering with. Shouldn’t we say the things that are going to cause someone to step back and evaluate? Shouldn’t we speak the words that everyone else is afraid to say? 

Of course from my perspective, the words I used in the past come from a deep place of pain, and frustration, caused by many years of doing the very thing I now despise… staying silent. The sad part is that the recipients of my words often times read with misunderstanding, not fully knowing the place of love that those words come from. But such has life been up to this point, one misunderstanding to another, never fully realizing the healing that could come from words spoken from a once silent place.

Death definitely changes people, but too many times that change is the exchanging of one set of filters for another. If we would take the time to exchange… to respond… to scream… to shake our fists in the air as a sign of life and the desire to understand. Then I believe that the death of a loved one could change us all, and cause the lives once unspoken to begin to speak again.

Back on the road again…

Well, I picked up another motorcycle last night. This was the 5th one of this make/model that I checked out, and it was a keeper. 

It started Thursday afternoon when V and I went and checked out one that didn’t run in Flint. It was going for way too much on Ebay… so I passed. Next was a trip to St. Johns on Friday night… oh, right before I get there, the owner calls and tells me that he can’t get it started. What a joke… I was there for over an hour as he fumbled with the spark plugs, and his buddy said “it must be the throttle cable adjustment”. I knew at that point, I had to get out. So I low balled an offer, which they didn’t take, and I left.

#3 was in Grand Rapids, and from my phone conversation… it sounded like it could be the one. It ran, had all the parts, and didn’t seem to have anything wrong with it. Then there I was 6 hours later, back at home after another misrepresentation. Argh! (I’m holding back the language for now). 

Then the dream of all dreams… an older guy listed a bike 3 years newer than all the ones I had looked at, and for next to nothing. I wrote all weekend with no response until Monday morning. Then I set up a 5p.m meeting to check it out. I get there at 4:50, and he had just sold it out from under me. Did I mention we had just driven 45 minutes to get there, with the price of gas… I wanted to kick that old man’s ASS (there I swore). The funny thing, is V was more irritated than I was, and I literally had to drag her to the van as she was reaching out to take ahold of that old man by the balls. 

So, there we were pissed off, and ready to beat someone to a pulp. I had one last bike on my list… and I had happened to actually print off the directions and phone number in case the old man screwed me out of a bike, which he did. Ring, ring… Hey Steve, you still have that bike… and the rest is history. I have to give props to that man, he was very thorough and honest about everything, and even gave me a great deal. 

So here it is… it is 25 years old, so don’t hold that against me.