Loneliness gets a bad rap.
I liked going for long walks, very late at night around my quiet cul-de-sac neighborhood in Andover. Crickets, wind and frogs was all I heard. I would walk the whole perimeter, winding my way down each short street (there were three) saying the names of the occupants of each house in my mind as I passed them before arriving back at my own home.
I'd spark up a joint, like it was cool, blow out a cloud and I'd survey my lands. I really went there - the, "all that I see is mine" place. I'd imagine a girl my age who just moved in, sitting on one of the homes' front steps, missing all her friends back in Minnesota or California or wherever her parents tore her from and ruined her life. We'd hang out and talk for hours and I'd tell her how I hated my parents when we moved, but it gets better. She'd smile and put her head on my shoulder. Then we would just be. These walks were never sad. I always had a legit smile on my face. I went on that walk a hundred times and "met" many cool people in my mind, but in all those years, I never saw another person. Not even once.
Friday, October 30, 2015
Friday, October 16, 2015
CT-70, KZ-400, BRIDGESTONE 100...
Motorcycles. I had a love affair with them. I wish I could tell you that I was a fearless, badass biker. But, even though I rode my first bike at 13 and used a motorcycle as my primary mode of transportation for years (sometimes, I didn't even own a car), I never felt completely confident. I was always a little scared under certain conditions (canyon-carving, for example). But I did love to ride long distances and have done several cross-country trips. I'd like to do one more. I am sure my friend, Dave Orosz will be involved.
Anyway, I was thinking about my first experience with motorcycles and my mind wandered back to high school. Austin Prep. Reading, MA. Technically, it was a private school, but in fact it was a Catholic school which was purchased from the Diocese by Alumni. I was only one of two non-Catholics our of a student body of four-hundred. That is a whole nuther Oprah. For now, it is only pertinent that it was a small school (there were 120 in my class) and we all knew each other. Also, students came from twenty different cities and towns. Busses were dispatched far and wide. Mine was far, so not many kids. So, short bus. Again, many tales about that. But this one is just about Fred D'Urso. All I can tell you about Fred D'Urso is that we carpooled a couple of times and his mom talked to us in the back seat over her shoulder as she drove. She rarely looked at the road in front of her engaging us in very detailed conversations and only occasionally glancing forward. "Shouldn't you maybe be looking at the road?" we'd ask. She acted as if she hadn't heard us.
The other thing I remember about Fred D'Urso is that he was TOTALLY awesome and let me ride his dirt bike AND his Kawasaki KZ-400 on the street (I was like 14 and did not have a license. Totally illegal). Anyway, if you know anyone who owns a mororcycle, they (wisely)almost NEVER let other people ride them unless they are VERY experienced (Dave Orosz knows I know my shit so he lets me ride his). I was a novice. I had only ridden a mini-bike (another cool story) and he let me ride his KZ which, at the time, were some of the fastest bikes on the market.
Anyway. I was a cautious kid. I sometimes see my son trying new things and he is the same way. Tentative until he feels confident. I rode Fred's Kawi around the block a dozen times. Very carefully shifting and not going too fast. I was learning how to ride motorcycle and I was on the street without a driver's license (staying below the speed limit). To a cautious kid like me it was as much a rush as robbing a bank.
Anyway, I was thinking about my first experience with motorcycles and my mind wandered back to high school. Austin Prep. Reading, MA. Technically, it was a private school, but in fact it was a Catholic school which was purchased from the Diocese by Alumni. I was only one of two non-Catholics our of a student body of four-hundred. That is a whole nuther Oprah. For now, it is only pertinent that it was a small school (there were 120 in my class) and we all knew each other. Also, students came from twenty different cities and towns. Busses were dispatched far and wide. Mine was far, so not many kids. So, short bus. Again, many tales about that. But this one is just about Fred D'Urso. All I can tell you about Fred D'Urso is that we carpooled a couple of times and his mom talked to us in the back seat over her shoulder as she drove. She rarely looked at the road in front of her engaging us in very detailed conversations and only occasionally glancing forward. "Shouldn't you maybe be looking at the road?" we'd ask. She acted as if she hadn't heard us.
The other thing I remember about Fred D'Urso is that he was TOTALLY awesome and let me ride his dirt bike AND his Kawasaki KZ-400 on the street (I was like 14 and did not have a license. Totally illegal). Anyway, if you know anyone who owns a mororcycle, they (wisely)almost NEVER let other people ride them unless they are VERY experienced (Dave Orosz knows I know my shit so he lets me ride his). I was a novice. I had only ridden a mini-bike (another cool story) and he let me ride his KZ which, at the time, were some of the fastest bikes on the market.
Anyway. I was a cautious kid. I sometimes see my son trying new things and he is the same way. Tentative until he feels confident. I rode Fred's Kawi around the block a dozen times. Very carefully shifting and not going too fast. I was learning how to ride motorcycle and I was on the street without a driver's license (staying below the speed limit). To a cautious kid like me it was as much a rush as robbing a bank.
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