The Most Wonderful Time of The Year

I originally wrote this post on December 21st, 2017. In times of turmoil, sometimes we forget to do things..... like post a blog.  Although at this point, Christmas, or the Holiday Season for you insanely politically correct, is 10 months away, it's still a good time to get that Christmas Wish List in order.  Hopefully, this post will inspire you.

Christmas. I love Christmas. I don't just love it, I embrace it. I live it.

My family wasn't and still isn't rich or wealthy in the monetary sense, not even comfortable but always scraping and getting by. Even to this day the desire to spend what money I have to spoil those I love with Christmas gifts is often hampered by financial woes, but somehow, I find a way to wrap gifts to give, meager as they may be.

I can remember as a kid, maybe 5 or 6, pulling a sled from the apartment we lived over to my Grandparents house two blocks away in the snow and then later in the day pulling the same sled home loaded with as many gifts that I could fit on it. We're talking about the early 1960's here, a different and simpler time.

As the years went by, my eyes never stopped widening on Christmas morning and the excitement of the coming Christmas day never ceases. Even now as I approach my sixth decade of existence I still get all giddy about Christmas. Some have gone as far as to call me a Christmas Brat. Fine, I gladly accept the label and will wear it proudly. The reason for this label is because, well, I issue a Christmas list to my family every year and have done so for as long as I can remember. Sure the list has changed over the years but the idea hasn't. If you get me something off this list, regardless of what you pick, you will be getting me something that I would like. There is no guessing and no sinking fake smile when I open that fur mailbox that sings when I open it because you "thought" I would like it. I don't and I wouldn't. Save yourself, look at the list and the great thing about the list is that regardless of what you get off that list, I still don't know what it is until I open it. It is still a surprise. THAT, is the fun part.

When I was younger, it was all kid stuff. Toys, games and such. Then it evolved into car stuff and more expensive items. Eventually, I got the idea to put anything I desired on the list knowing full well that there was no way in hell I would ever get them, but it was funny to see on the list. Things like a boat, a Jeep, a trip to Germany, a Harley. Of course practical things made it to the list as well, like a bag of pretzels, a box of Red Rose Tea, a book, a bag of M&M's, a bottle of Coke.

That is what makes my list so tolerable in that it is so ridiculous. Item #3 may be a 2018 Harley Sportster but item #4 might be a request for breakfast at IHOP or a pack of gum. It's the first thing that pops into your head, what your stomach would like, what your mouth wants to taste or what would be satisfying at any particular time. It's just the things you like. One year I had on the list "Dinner with my wife at The Ark" (a local restaurant in town). So you see, it's not just about stuff, it's also about people.

Truth be told, it's not just about getting, it's also about participation. My list is also a form of encouragement to those who get the list to participate and get involved in the season of giving. A means to action. A method to motivate those who would rather "Bah-Humbug" Christmas than participate in it simply because it's "too much effort to figure out what to get you".

Shut up, get over yourself, here's my list, this is easy, Merry Christmas.

I have gotten Harley or motorcycle stuff for Christmas, usually clothing or some sort of gear for the bike. Sometimes it wasn't on the list, but people know me and what I like. Those who don't know me that well...... I refer you to my list.

The opening picture is of a 1964 Harley Davidson M-50 a market competitive bike actually built by Aemecchi of Italy and had the HD badge put on it. The 50cc two-stroke was a panic creation by HD to battle the influx of similar Honda bikes. At the time, this poorly marketed little scoot would set you back $225. While these were sold up to 1972, Harley's poor marketing ultimately killed it when it actually deserved much better treatment since it actually wasn't that bad. Compared to many Mopeds now, this little bike in excellent restored condition can sell for up to $6000 now. But I can promise you, it's not on my Christmas list.

Beauties Indeed

If someone says "Say, these 2018 Harley-Davidsons are beauties", while I might agree, the statement lacks the same romance as it does when referring to the 1939 Harley's. As impressive as the new HD's are, as beautiful as they are, as Santa-please-put-one-under-my-tree as they are.... there's something about one of these vintage bikes that just makes me smile.
                                                                                                                                                               

Purely mechanical. Zero electronics to govern anything. Headlight, tail-light, engine, saddle, tank, tires, bars, fenders and GO. Extremely appealing, put your helmet on and go.... well... in this case, your motorcycle club cap and jockey boots.

The bike pictured in this ad is the 1939 Harley Davidson Model U. Boasting a 74 cubic inch engine that produced a whopping 33 HP and 4-speed transmission, drum brakes and springer front suspension. Fully restored U's in excellent condition are selling in the $20K range.

Old Stuff Rocks

I have some vintage Popular Mechanics and Popular Science magazines from 1949 through 1953. I love old magazines because they depict an innocent era, an era where everything was new and exciting, where there was respect for everything and everyone. Back in these times, everything was mechanical and analog. YOU had to make things work, there was a romance about machinery. Not anymore. There is no respect for anything, anyone and who operates machinery anymore? Motorcycles are pretty much the last of the a bygone day and even those days are nearly numbered with the emergence of electric motorcycles.

One of my favorite things about these old magazines are the ads, which you'll be seeing much more of in future posts.  This particular ad is for the 1953 Harley Davidson Model 165. I like how they have made it seem so simple, fun and carefree. I'm amazed at the implication of riding without a helmet, zipping along with more power and not a care in the world. We should be so lucky.

The Model 165 was a revision to the 1948 S125 with an increase in engine size to 165 producing just over 3 HP. It had no battery and was a magneto start. It didn't have front fork suspension as we know it today, instead it used large rubber bands.

Of Friends and Companions

Tuc-Tuc
October 16, 2001 to November 24, 2017

A Tribute to a True Companion

It took me nearly three Months to write this, so bear with me. Slightly motorcycle related, but mostly not.

I have a few simple, yet complicated, joys that I have surrounded my life with. Motorcycles, Bicycles, Guitars, My Farm (The Blue Mouse Ranch) and Animals. Naturally, Family is also that part of the joys, but for this exercise I'll leave them out of it.

Fellow riders are those people who, like you, have a passion and love of the motorcycle. You get together when you can, pack on as many miles as time allows and belly up to your favorite or any bar, diner or greasy spoon you find along the way. This happens on the weekends, the days off, the vacation.

Friends, like fellow riders are the ones you see once in a while, share a common interest with, have fun with, get help from or ask of, perhaps vacation with and have over for those summer bar-b-ques in the backyard with other like friends and family members. This happens on the weekends, the days off and the vacations.

Companions, unlike the other two groups, are with you always. They become and are your rock. They are the near staple of your existence and your ability to cope with every day life. They don't abandon you, they don't laugh at you, they don't hurt you. They only love you, need you, want you and want to be near you.

My beloved cat Tucker, whom I called Tuc-Tuc, was my best friend, my buddy and my handsome little boy. We had a bond unlike any and like my wife says, "I've never seen a cat so loyal and so attached to any one like he is to you". It would but insufficient to say I loved him and he loved me. I have never met a cat that would talk to me as he did, he would call for me all hours of the day, he would look for me in the house and when it was bed time he would gallop down the hallway and follow me into bed. There, he would lay on my chest, place his paw on my face and put his head down to sleep.

Me and Tuc on the way to the cabin.

He would travel with me to our cabin in the woods 5-1/2 hours away. Along the way he would come out of his travel crate in the back seat, cry for me and come up front, curl up on my lap and sleep all the way to the cabin. At the cabin, it was his domain. He was the king of the castle there as many times it would be just him, myself and my Sheltie Sadie. Sadie and Tuck didn't interact much, but Sadie knew Tuck was in charge there. It was also there that Tuck would purr so loud, unlike at home in New Jersey. That told me he was super happy and glad to have me all to himself.

I got used to all of these and many other things that we shared together, the routine of daily life that included him. I expected these things and my day was never complete or normal if they weren't.

Tuc was 16 years old and as I have been frequently told, that's a long life for a cat. You can never prepare for this even though you can see it coming. He had been going downhill for a few weeks and just before we left to go to my brothers for Thanksgiving dinner, I said to my wife that I didn't think he was going to make it through the long weekend. I had been quite depressed and sad during those weeks, I knew what was coming.

I was introduced to an anonymously written bit of prose called "The Rainbow Bridge". I've read it once. I cannot read it with breaking down into tears at the loss of pets of my past. I am reminded of it in this case and I pray it is true and want to believe that is what we can expect for us as we pass from this life.

After my wife and I returned from my brothers house at 10 p.m., I picked up Tuc and held him close to me. I brought him into the bedroom and lay on the bed with him on my chest. I pet him and spoke to him. With my voice trembling and tears in my eyes I told him how much I loved him and how much I needed him in my life and thanked him for loving me as he did. I prayed for him to be happy and comfortable in the afterlife, I knew he'd be in heaven. At 4:00 a.m. Eastern Time, I felt my boy's heart stop as his last breath left him and my boy passed away. I fell apart.

I have never cried so much, for so long. My companion, my buddy, my boy would no longer be physically with me. All of the things that I had grown used to and expected in my life would no longer be and each time I remember these things I break down, I fall apart and the gaping hole in my heart grows with every minute.

Companions, be it a pet, a riding buddy, a close friend or family member are memory makers, they are the fabric of our lives though we do not acknowledge it to them or ourselves. Every moment of our lives, our memories do go on and the creation process never stops. Tuc was always in my thoughts and was a focus of my concern. When I rode the Harley or was away from home, "How's Tuc?" I'd ask. When you go away do you ask how your companions are? Your Dogs, your cats, your birds, your kids, your loved ones?

Life is never long enough, memories are never enough, Love is never enough. The trick is to grab as much of all of it that you can.

Life, is for the taking, NOT watching.

I miss you Tuc-Tuc.