Sunday, March 27, 2011

She's Nasty

...and just my style.

I'll be real honest here for a's been a little dark lately. I haven't been the typical cherry jam in the middle of everyone's donut as of late. I have needed something, and I have NOT been able to pin my finger on exactly what that thing was that I have needed.

Then it hit me today, when after 2 months of working on her, my bike finally came to life with the growl that only a hacked up, 42-year-old smoker could muster after years of hibernation.

She came to me as a 1968 BSA Thunderbolt, chopped down and slammed, gutted and bruised, and all kinds of wore out. She's now a 1969 BSA Lightning, chopped down, and slammed, and still under repair. But she is nasty, loud, fast and dangerous, and she makes me so much happier than I was yesterday. I still need to register her, and make some serious repairs, maybe throw on a rear-view mirror, and keep remembering that there is no front brake and the rear one is on the left.

It's good to get my head focused on the more immediate things that are necessary...vital to survival, in fact. Like the brake. And the speed. And the wind. And nothing else in that particular moment.

Fuck I needed this.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


It's says "Fanmade" video...but it's still awesome. And I loves me some Scissor Sisters.

I'm looking forward... a lot of things in this world. Not the least of which is seeing this coy little tease tonight.

Thursday, March 17, 2011


May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields and,
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Monday, March 14, 2011

The Weight

There's only one thing you can do when the weight gets so heavy that it pushes down on you and tries with all of it's gravity to crush you: push back.

Or I guess you could get crushed. Yeah, that's an option I suppose. Still hasn't really sunk in as one for me yet.

I'm throwing the weight up and off of me every day.

It's getting heavier. I guess that means I'm getting stronger.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Whatever, Russ

I think the last time I blogged from my phone was at least 3 years ago. I'm sure my reasoning was more important at the time than This Nonsense.

Then again, just like Charlie, there's nothing I like more than a little friendly competition.


Friday, March 11, 2011

Monday, March 7, 2011

Been a minute

Today at Willie's House of Pain, I found my "max" on Dead Lifts, Bench, and Power Cleans. Ain't what it used to be. But that's ok...I like the way Willie qualifies weight as a "max"; if you can't do it 3 times with perfect form, it's not a max.

I like crossing the tracks on the way back home after the workout, and looking East at the sunrise...every morning the sun is coming up a little bit earlier.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

We were young

We laughed out loud, and were competitive in our efforts to make the other smile. It was the best contest...everybody wins. And the sun was bright and the time moved so much slower, the days went on forever. We were strong and alive, and the mountains didn't look as tall to us, or we were just so far away from them that they represented the horizon and a time that wanted for us in her hidden greed. I remember the smells of summer and the water and the grass and the bbq and the wine and the laughter, ours, a song that wafted and rose and thinned out into the ether of my dreams and tears.

I don't listen to the music on the radio anymore, because I have it all on my ipod, the songs we used to listen to, to sing out loud to in the car, in the house, and I can't make it more than a few days before reaching deep into the vault and pulling out the stuff that stirs up the memories, good or bad, that keep you in my heart where you always will be. Oh the enormous gratitude I have for the beautiful gifts of this life such as music, and it's powerful, permanent and perfect ability to cross time, language, space and the reality of the fucked up situation that this is and make me remember the first time I heard that song and you were there and it became ours. Thank God for that.

I loved the way we would always try and outsmart each other, we both like children engaged in our own fantasy and growth and architecture of a love that always wanted to push each other up, onward, forward into our dreams. I never wanted to let you down. I still don't. How passionately I go looking for that challenging, loving dialogue and test again, but find mostly the vacant, timid and fearful majority, brilliantly flashing just long enough to taste what it was, but is no more. That flame that could ignite like gasoline, poured fresh between us on the concrete, blown up high and fast and toxic in the fumes that neither you nor I would back away from long enough to give the other enough oxygen to breathe. Why is it that I couldn't ever stop us from lighting that fire? Why couldn't we? Will you set the ground ablaze again, wherever it is you travel to? Will I? Will we ever have the chance to look eye to eye again and preserve the space and temper the flame and know again what it is like to be young and beautiful, to be happy and careless, caring only about each other's laughter?

The street is colder now, and from the depths of this winter it's hard to catch a glimpse of what should be up above, soaring through the sunbursts on golden wings. And I don't want to look up too often, knowing both that what I'm looking for may not be there up in flight, or if it is this time it might just be the last time I ever set eyes on a vision so perfect that I won't have the wherewithal to know that it simply won't last forever.

But forever is, and eternal breathes into my soul every day, no matter how many times I have been broken in half, or saddened and cowered in the shame of the times I tried to do the breaking. I often feel like my horns twist and turn and grow and aim to break every dish in the entire shop when in fact the aisles are wide, and the surroundings so beautiful if only I could stay composed and calm and walk the line that was designed to allow me to pass gracefully.

I don't know any answers, but I know that there is a flame, and it's never going to burn out, and it reminds me that there is a light I cannot see.