Just my opinion.

o·pin·ion

[əˈpinyən]

NOUN

1. a view or judgment formed about something, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge: Oxford Dictionaries · © Oxford University Press  

. You have heard it all before.. "Opinions are like assholes. Everybody's got one".  "You ain't smart enough to have an opinion". and a favorite of mine from Drill Sargent Burlington. "Soldier, If the Army wanted you to have an opinion they would issue you one".

We are slapped in the face every day with a barrage of opinions from every corner. Yes, It is someones opinion that you SHOULD take your family to Olive Garden and yer not a good person if you don't. Advertising is just an opinion. Marketing is a tool to push an agenda. Im not picking on Olive Garden. Im calling them all out.. We are marketed to in the hope that we would be swayed to increase their profits... I get that. I've been on both sides, as a consumer and as an advertiser. But its just an opinion. Not necessarily based on fact or knowledge.. Think about how many times the car manufacturers have told you that without "Their" product you aren't living up to your potential. YOU DESERVE,,,, that new truck.. Thats just their opinion. and this is just mine. They are motivated by profit.

Everyone has an opinion. but there was a time before social media when most of us kept our opinions to our selves.. Through the magic of facebook we can get the opinions of everyone. This past week a woman ductaped a dogs muzzle. Why.? I have no earthly idea. not something I would do but thats not my point.. my point is this, A gadzillion people took the time to give their opinion about it. So many gave an opinion about it that it became a global news story. I guess that everyone in the world now knows that this is unacceptable behavior. The South Daytona Police Dept. was so overwhelmed with calls and emails that it effected the level of service that they could provide. (side note. She doesnt live in South Daytona). A stupid mistake that has put her under the microscope of scrutiny. I hope she is strong enough to weather the storm. I don't know her. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. People concentrated on the dogs well being and gave no consideration to the human life that they were berating. one comment was, "she should be beat". well who the fuck are you to pass judgement.and promote a punishment? What kind of human are you.? You are common unfortunately. and then you continued scrolling.

We have entered a time where everyone on this planet thinks that they have a news studio.

on their laptop and an audience that they wish to inform the masses.

We have broadcast capabilities. some push for a bigger audience and some achieve that 

goal. The part that is missing is the integrity of the broadcast. Checking facts and sources of 

information. Yes. when you share a link you are saying, "This is what I believe". Yes, there is

room for humor and satire but to desimenate false information is morally wrong.. We are 

creating a monster. The character of the beast is this. "I don't know who can be trusted 

anymore". 

And then there is this guy...

killed three, wounded nine. Why.? "No more baby parts"... thats what he was quoted as 

saying.. Here is my version of the story.

HEADLINES. 

Three killed, Nine injured by crazed gunman.

A man born in America, who looks crazy, did some crazy shit.. After watching a Fox news 

story about Planned Parenthood being funded by the US government and selling baby 

body parts, this dude goes berserk. He drives 65miles from his home and opens fire on

a health clinic. He is quoted as saying, "no more baby parts". we also report that he enjoys 

freaky sex.. now to the weather..

WTF.?

I'm not saying what he did was right, far from it.. 

He believed Fox News and acted upon the news..

A few points to consider..

why is the federal government involved in supporting any social services? its a state issue 

that should be voted on by the people. If the people in your state don't agree with your 

opinions, you can move.. We are United States. Not identical states.

Is Planned Parenthood really selling body parts.? If so, Fox news should be showing video

of PP"s board of directors being hauled off in chains. I'm pretty sure that selling body parts

is illegal. 

can we actually trust that the news is truth and not just some corporate opinion.? 

there are 6  corporations that control almost all of the media..

here are a few headlines I've read today.. and I have no clue whether they are true or not.

you tell me.. 

California signs Law allowing Illegals to vote.

Marine Veteran tries to escape cold, wind and rain but Walmart refuses to let him in.

Man loses lawsuit claiming BMW motorcycle gave him an extended erection. 

 

    OPINION might be harmful to others.. Opinions are not necessarily based on

 facts or knowledge.

 Be kind to one another

until we meet again.

Peace&Grease

 

  

Timestamp. November 1995

Timestamp, November 1995

My world was steady spinning out of control. I had just spent the last few years up in Nashville working on an Artist development deal with Asylum Records. Four years of Playing guitar and entertaining at Tootsies while trying to work full time at Gibson Guitar, my days and nights were little more than a blur. I spent every waking moment working my craft. I was a performer and I was good at it. What I was learning was the business of the music industry. What I wanted was the creative side. A huge difference between the two. Long story short, Asylum would be making a decision about my future in the very near future. Either I would have a development deal or the other guy would. His name was Brian White. He got the deal. I got a handshake. He got an opportunity and I got a bottle of jack daniels. I had been weighed and measured and found wanting.. I could deal with the rejection side of the thing. I knew my chances were slim but that singular moment put me at a crossroad. "Where do I go from here".?.

So with a fifth of jack and an early 70s buick skylark, I headed south to figure out my future. No. I was loathing my own existence. feeling sorry for myself . The dealer of my cards had given me a shitty hand and I was about to fold. From Nashville to south Georgia. I was headed back to my roots and another beginning. I'm not sure when the bottle went dry but sunrise found me at my Aunt Mutt's river cabin south of Claxton. (yes, I have an Aunt named Mutt. Don't you.?) The Dead River gave me some peace. Solitude was my comfort and whiskey made it a bearable drink..

The Golden Birthday

I had never heard of such a thing. I had been writing songs with a guy from ASCAP and he told me the story of The golden birthday.. It happens but one time in a persons life. When your day of birth matches your years, Yer Golden. My 28th birthday would happen on the 28th of December. My friend asked me, "Where will you spend your Golden Birthday"? I had no clue.. The whole time I had known Tim we would drink and he would reminisce about his times "on the right coast of florida". From Daytona to Oak Hill was his stomping grounds. He was a true Wordsmith. When he spoke of this place he painted pictures of a place that looked wonderful to me. As I sat on the bank of the dead river holding a guitar that I no longer wanted to play, I decided that my Golden Birthday would be spent in Florida.

A new town was on my horizon. I had never been to New Smyrna Beach. I had no plans. I had no contacts. The only reason I was there was a friends drunken ramblings about a small town and that the town had NEW in its name.. Mornings alone on the beach beat me down. The horizon of the Atlantic kept reminding me how small and insignificant I truly was. Christmas, my Golden birthday and new years I celebrated with perfect strangers.. The Veil of anonymous was comforting. I could go and do as I wished. I was not constrained by expectations. It had been 6yrs sense I had been in a meaningful relationship. I had nothing that needed to be done. Until the money in my pocket started getting dangerously small. Work has seldom been hard for me to find. It has usually found me. Jimmy Buffett is not hard to play on a six string and it seemed that every bar had a tiki hut out back. Pub 44 was the first. an open guitar case for tips turned into 3 nights a week at $200 a night plus tips and an open bar tab had my financial needs covered. My nights off found me playing guitar and singing in clubs up and down the coast. life was good. Until I moved in with Her.

She was the Devils sister. it only lasted two weeks. the only reason she even gets mentioned is because of her demented and controlling ways, I found The Ledo Beach Hotel. A quaint little 1940s bungalow hotel with a swimming pool looking out over Daytona Beach and the Atlantic. For the small price of $200 a week, I had the perfect pad for me. Sleeping days and playing nights. I had all that I needed. food, clothing and shelter. Wine women and songs. Cocaine and weed was easier to get then a speeding ticket. The only thing I didn't have was,,,, a long term lease.. after two and a half months of paying my weekly rent on Mondays, I return to pay the man. That's when I am told that my $200 a week room is now $680 a week. "Welcome Race Fans". It was speedweek . Overnight my landlord had become a pirate.  A man devoid of any moral fiber and a cold stone where his heart once was. Its Monday around noon and I just found out that I'm homeless, again.

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to loose"
                                                          Me and Bobbi Magee.

Timestamp. Today.

Its taken 20yrs of life to end up right back where I was. When my motor blew up a month ago something drastically changed in my life.  My ability to travel freely had come to a grinding halt, literally. My human right to pursue happiness had been taken from me by fate.. This wasn't my plan. After biketoberfest I had planned on the Galveston rally and then work the winter around the gulf coast.. I Had A Plan. and once again, I'm taught the frailty of a mans plan. Life can change in a moment. It always does. Ive spent the last month learning.. learning my options. evaluating my situation. exploring possibilities. And beating myself up because I allowed this to happen to me.. Then I beat myself up about beating myself up. "Who am I to complain about my situation?" I can't complain. I've been provided all that I need and most of what I want. I no longer have the belief that I "Deserve" anything. I have been taught the difference between Grace and Mercy and I feel that I am truly blessed. I am Thankful.
  
until we meet again...
Peace&Grease..

It Was Bound To Happen..

Rest in Peace My old friend.
early morning 10 Apr. 2013 - late night 14 Oct, 2015

This is not an obituary as much it is a celebration of Life..

She was born, might I even say conceived of a singular purpose. FREEDOM.
Though she lived what some consider a short life, she was destined to LIVE Completely.
For less than three years, She travelled freely from town to town. Making new friends and inspiring thought in others. Some would even turn there nose up as if she were known to be the town gutterslut. I've seen the look in a mans eye. The envy. The wander. The understanding. The appreciation. She effected all who noticed.


Today I received word from S&S Cycles, (The engine manufacturer). Their diagnosis was that the only thing salvageable was her front jug. Old Glory's heart would beat no more. 91,000 + miles. We could speculate her demise but it would serve no good purpose. Either the lifter or a cam bearing went. no telling which went first..


Old Glory was conceived of as part of a TV show that failed. The bike was built to ride the Pan American Hwy. I named her Ole Glory. My goal was to build a 100% American Made MoterSickle . I did. Not to toot her horn, {she had no horn) I found FREEDOM on that dirty girl..

I say Dirty Girl.. She truly was.. Even when she did get a washdown. The State of Tennessee were dicks and wanted a ton of paper on her to make her legit. Old Glory agreed to my suggestion that we just use the tag off of my old chopper.. Only one cop questioned it.. Somehow he knew that he was not looking at a 1976 Honda CB550. After an amazing story validated by Manufactures statements of Origin for the motor and frame he wrote me a $200 ticket for an expired drivers license. and the warning that I couldn't ride the bike without a drivers license and that he would be patrolling to the north.. He originally pulled me over because I had a plastic, hand written in sharpie, license plate.. I had lost the metal plate in florida. That South Dakota Trooper saved the county taxpayers a lot of money that day.



She never did complain much. and when she did It wasn't much to satisfy her. The biggest problems we had were the charging system and the connection between the engine and tranny.. Sure, we spent a lot of time together with tools in hand, but I never argued. I usually didn't have a schedule so we were able to meet new people. the old guy in texas that helped me half the day fixing my rear tire blowout. Them cool cats in western Carolina.. The Hooligans in Lexington KY that took me in like a full patch member when my charging system shit the bed.. Me and Old Glory have met a lot of people with a tool in hand.. The scheduled maintenance was another adventure all together.. I remember one time at an outside bar in florida. I rolled up and got a beer. my bike 10ft from the bar. that afternoon I changed all three sets of brake pads on my bike and partied with the bar crowd. after cleaning up, I proceeded to pull out my cook stove and cook dinner for the bartender and I. I cant make this shit up... we had clam chowder and shrimp ramen noodles.
.
there was a lot of maintenance in 91,000 miles.. oil changes, tires, brakes, chains, sprockets, shocks, luggage mounts, wheel bearings, neck bearings, rebuilding brake calipers, batteries, charging systems, wiring, primary chains, clutch discs, wiring , cables and a few other little things.

She enjoyed all the roads and the occasional off road rides.. Riding the prairie north of Newell, SD was a most enjoyable time for her.. She seemed to enjoy the life of a tractor with low rpm torque and first/second gear. She would bound over the ruts and rises of the open range with the cattle and bison.  She has enjoyed the backwoods in almost all the states. She has a soft spot for the high country of Montana, Idaho and Colorado during the warmth of summer and fall. Her preference was the gulf coast or the Right coast of Florida during the winter. The mid southeast in the spring and then follow the frostline up to the border.
 but she had no problem setting out in the cold either. on 20 Feb, 2014 we left florida attempting to ride all 48 states in 14days.. that day was one of those weird days when it snows in all 50 states.. fact . That was the beginning of Winter Storm Thor.. the coldest that we were in was 4degrees in Walcott, Iowa. I had to push her into a wash bay to warm the oil enough to get her started.


She was sure of foot, a bit top heavy when fully loaded and she couldn't handle much likker but seldom did she leave me stranded. I usually had what I needed to get her fixed and us down the road.. she threw a chain one afternoon in the middle of nowhere north central Nebraska.. This is the same day that I'm limping down the highway to retrieve the chain that just whipped the shit out of me in the rain... After inspecting the chain I come to the realization that I have just walked an eighth of a mile to pick up a no good chain. Walking back to my bike and the rain stops.. I push the bike down the road to the next driveway and park the bike next to a stack of round hay bales.. I start walking back towards the last town I had left. I knew it to be about 6 miles.. I made it about a half a mile before farmer Joe picked me up. He said that the swinging chain in my hand was what told him that I needed help.. he took me to the tractor supply, I got my chain and he rode me back to my bike. There are still good people out there..  I had everything I needed to fix her.. try cutting a 530 chain to length with a 6in. mill bastard file.. But I got her fixed.  and we rode east with the sun setting in my mirrors across the Nebraska plains.

I'm not sure what the future holds for the rest of Old Glory. Do I give her a new soul.? do I scrap her and start over.? do I change my mode of transport.? I'm still in mourning and really just at a loss of what direction to head. A motor swap would be the quickest and most cost effective solution but I don't want to react and then wonder what might have been. Life without two wheels isn't an option.

I do want to take this time to thank you all for your kind words and support. You have smoothed the road for me.

until next time
Peace&Grease.

Greetings from the edge of the road..

In the background, Kid Rock is singing "Born Free". I'm shacked up in the garage apartment of a dear friend. Each morning I enjoy the sunrise over the Halifax river and I give thanks to my Creator.. Not because I'm a religious bloke but because I am thankful. Two months ago I was running a bike shop in the Dakota territory and planning for a cold winter. I had already dismissed the idea of being at biketoberfest. Things change and here I am.. From Deadwood to Omaha to check up on some friends. To the Ozarks for dinner and some awesome riding. To Ft. Campbell for a meeting of patriots and then on to NC. for a dinner date. I rolled South to meet up with a friend in north Georgia. We would leave in the morning. 435miles to Daytona.. 10hrs later I coasted my bike into Willies Tropical Tattoo.. The motor had quit two blocks before.. The motor had a huge hole in the rear cylinder rocker cover and broken metel was poking out of the hole..  Ben went for beer and I rolled out my bedroll under the stars.. We enjoyed the late evening  of cans and pipes. Music and conversation. We spoke of the day and what tomorrow had in store for us.. We talked about the last 80miles and how I had to press my knee against the carb to keep it from blowing off. The rear cylinder was exhausting through the carb because the exhaust valve wasn't exhausting anymore.. My motor was toast but she had gotten me to our destination.. Willie's Chopper time bike show would start in the morning..
I decided to not worry about the bike .. Let us enjoy the show. The people that I only get to see once a year. The motor would wait.. Willie's Chopper show is more than its name implies.. It is also a fundraiser for "The Veterans Support Fund". A non profit that I have worked with on several occasions.. Good people doing good things.. Check them out on the web.. A good time was had by all..
So, here I am in Daytona. Safe, warm, well fed and completely taken care of.. My motor is in Wisconsin being overhauled by its creator's at S&S Cycles.. I can't brag about that motor enough.. In 31months, she took me 91,000 miles on that 111 cubic inch beast.. It has been an amazing ride.. There isn't enough room here to tell you where she has taken me and I can't imagine the destinations that are yet to come..
Until next time,
Peace&Grease.

The B.R.O.A.D.'s Heavenly Hill Heals

Visiting The B.R.O.A.D. for Easter Weekend. What a peaceful area of the country and fresh mountain air with an old friend and new friends.