Easy Rider

Amidst growing up, we rarely get to see all the multi-facets that made our parents who they were before they became solely identifiable to us as mom and dad. As far as my father was concerned, I knew that he was a rugby player for 20 years, traveler, concert bouncer, and motorcycle owner.

The rugby player in my dad has been visible for the past twenty one years. His former teammates are my second family and I've heard every story from those glory days at least forty five times. They are all good people. Rugby gave my father the opportunity to travel extensively, and finding his old passports when I was a kid gave me a chance to see his evolution through the pictures that graced them. The first, a fu manchu and long hair, and several different hair lengths and facial hair styles to follow. And I'd heard the stories of him meeting CCR and James Brown when he worked their shows in Riverside. But the riding motorcycles era, all I'd ever known about was a bad crash that kept him out of a year of high school. I wanted to know more!

Since I'm a bit of gear head I couldn't help but have some curiosity. I mean, motorcycles are cool right? My dad was cool? Still is cool? Difficult things for a child to ponder! Story spun quick, my dad opened up to me about the motorcycle days. About how from the age of 16 to 22 the only vehicles he had were bikes. About the accident that kept him in summer school for two years. About how much he loved bikes and missed riding now. I expressed an interest in learning to ride, and my dad offered to teach me!

Fast forward three weeks, and we've been out riding (by the kindness and graciousness of my uncle for letting us borrow two of his dirt bikes) three or four times and it's been a very precious experience. I say this in the most sincere of ways because when your seemingly grown up finding ways to bond with your family becomes a really cool thing.

Now, members of my family and myself are looking into buying bikes. If you have a bike for sale, get at me! Or any of the Grove's.

Wait, what?

I have the shortest attention span known to civilization. I wish I could increase the list of things that captivate my mind for more than 30 seconds, but it's a dwindling number. The soapbox on which I sit gets higher and higher from the ground until it's a bit of a princess and the pea situation. Very tall, get it? I'm not very good with metaphors so give me a break. Point is the more cynical I get, the harder I find it to be genuinely interested and that list that ignites my captivation gets smaller and smaller. With me homes?

What was I talking about? 30 seconds I tell you, and that is on a good day. Great Scott it's February! Okay, I'm not that distracted most of the time. At least there is a list of things that will always keep me interested: Film, art, music, the endless conquest for vinyl, anything printed i.e. comics and books, all the usual crap. And a few things that I will leave untold to give me a little mystery. I love being mysterious these days.

I'm sure this made no sense really.

Here's to...

Last year is officially dead. No coroner's report required. The house has fallen from the sky, the Wicked Witch of the East has passed, and Dorothy has claimed the ruby reds. We are now some hours and minutes and seconds and fragments of time into a new start. Do I feel like I took last year to my full advantage? Did I use it like it so desperately wanted me to? I'm not one hundred percent sure.

Like a lyric from a band I quote far too often in my writing, I'm so much better than I used to be. And incredibly modest! 2008 was a year of personal growth of great bounds. My angst was at an all time high, but with the year ending I feel that the troubles I had are at least somewhat resolved. I'm also more of cynical dick then ever, but on the road of life we win some and lose some. I know I can't change the world, but I can at least make the most of my time on this planet. Everyday is a journey, and with a higher level of personal awareness it's finally time to get out there, experience, and fully enjoy.

I hate to say the cliched "I've done so much growing up this year..." But I did A LOT of growing up this year. Fuck. Even with the turmoil and heartache that follows us, I feel at peace now. Having said so I've inevitably jinxed myself.

Maybe I'll be looking at 2009 twelve months from now like the Wicked Witch of the West, but I possess a slightly higher expectation. Goodbye 2008. I'm glad you are gone.