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.

Blogger Hell Part 2

Continued from previous blog (no kidding?).....

Where does my time go? Seemingly two places. There is the Motorcycle Men Podcast that I am the creator/writer/researcher /editor and Host of and there is the TV time with the Mrs. We are currently sucked into about 6 shows, one of which we are binge watching. While the tube time might not be the best or most constructive way to use my time, it is time with the little woman and well, you can't go wrong with that.

The Podcast has been my baby for two and a half years at this point. My co-hosts (my brothers) and I do a studio show where the three of us get together and try to follow a script of topics for an hour and a half and we do this every two weeks. On the weeks in between, I usually do an interview show in my home studio via Skype with Authors, industry professionals, other bloggers, other podcasters, entertainers and whoever else is connected to motorcycles. And with 106 episodes under my belt, I have developed quite the following and quite the reputation among motorcycle Podcasters. So why give up that fame and invisible Podcast dollars?

Sugar waits for the ride home

It takes a lot of my time. Not really. I do have time, but I am avoiding it. I don't know why.  But, now that I have a job and I do sit at a picnic table with my Surface Pro 3, an internet connection, there is no reason that I cannot pursue this blog....or the other one I started.... or the book I haven't finished.

So while I split my commuting duties between my new Jeep Cherokee Trailhawk and my trusty 2003 Heritage, I have an hour to think about what I'm going to write about. No excuses this time.  None. Zero.

Will I follow through? Will I continue to tell stories about the road from two wheels? I will, frequency to be determined BUT will improve. You may see a change though, where I focus all of my writing towards motorcycling. This in an effort to boost Podcast ratings. Thanks for sticking with me.

Blogger Hell Part 1

When I first started this blog, I did it with the intention that I would "document" every ride I did or at least once a week. Be it on my motorcycle or on my bicycle, it would be a photo and text play-by-play of said adventures. In theory, this is quite possible. In practice I have discovered it's akin to herding cats.

Because I am plagued with a self-diagnosed case of ADHD (Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) and/or/in addition to a self-diagnosed case of Dyslexia, I have a difficult time focusing on any one thing for very long because there is something else I want to give my attention. The reality of the matter is I like to do so many things that I don't have time to do them all, but the real reality is that I have so overwhelmed myself with tasks, chores, projects, hobbies, activities, travel, writing, music, exercise and "fill-in-the-blank" that I can't direct my attention to any one thing for any length of time. That being said, the final reality is that it has turned into "pencils down" on everything, just about.

Lunch.  This is not my best lunch face.

Not long ago I was unemployed for 6 months, but at the end of that 6 months I did find work and for the next 6 months, then I was employed again, (Note to employers: If you don't have enough work to keep your people busy, do not hire more). Fortunately, I am working again, full time, an hour from home. So what does this mean?  Well... let's take a look.

Through 7 months of unemployment, I accomplished very little though I was home 99% of the time. Oh sure I worked around the house, looked for jobs, scoured the internet for work, did 4 audiobooks and a host of other domestic duties. Did I write? Very little. I rode a bit... okay a lot. But did I Blog about it? No. Why? Well, the best answer I can give is the failure to drum up the inspiration to do so. Was I too depressed? Well, no, just not into it. I made attempts but they all fell short of completion. I call to your attention the tale of the Shelter Logic Motorcycle Shelter I was constructing in the last couple of blogs. I never did finish that story. Even though I said to myself time after time, I must write, I must write. That phrase eventually turned into "Meh".

.... to be continued.

Dry and Cat free Part 2

As you recall, I was trying to come to a solution for getting my motorcycle inside some sort of structure so that it is not exposed to the elements. Now although my beloved Harley is covered, that still does not make it free from moisture, dampness, cold, etc. etc. as I stated in the last blog entry, I spoke with the knucklehead at the municipal building department and he told me that if I wanted to build a structure like a shed, I would have to get an architect involved. For a stinkin' shed! Give this to say, I abandon that idea.

A week or so later, my wife is browsing eBay, like she usually does. And she pointed out one of these canvas type Sheds. In this particular case, it was made by shelter logic. Now it's one of those jobs that has a zipper front door, no windows usually gray or silver or brown and made of some floppy kind of fabric. Such as vinyl. Well, the relatively inexpensive usually less than $500 for a 10 x 10.

"What about one of these?" She said.

"I don't know, it's not a constructed structure. I don't know why I would need a permit for that. Just to be on the safe side, let me call the town and find out."

So the next day, I called the knucklehead back at the municipal building department. And his reply was "sure you can put one of those in your driveway, but you'll still need to use variance permit." To which I replied, "am I going to need an architect for this one too?" There was a short bit of silence, and then he said in a rather drive a monotone voice, "no, you will not need an architect, just come get the permit."

Fast forward a week and I now have a "permit" to put a non-structural fabric shelter in my driveway. So I begin....

Step 1: Platform.

No sense in putting my bike in a shelter if it's still going to get wet when it rains. And, on advice from someone who has one of these Shelter Logic sheds, attach it to something or it will blow away the first time it gets windy.

Next.... Step 2: Put up the Shelter

 

Dry and cat free

In all the years I have owned a motorcycle, they have not seen the inside of a garage. They have always been outside and covered up through all sorts of weather.  Sad.  I know.  It made me sad and there were countless times that I damned the elements while I raced time to complete some maintenance task before the arrival of the impending weather doom that was quickly approaching.

Then there is the time I had to have my seat re-upholstered because one of my daughters cats had clawed its way under the bike cover and decided my seat needed kneading. From that point on my bike always had a blanket over the seat.... and a cat.

Then one day my wife suggested that I put the bike in the shed in the backyard. Although the thought spent nearly 5 seconds in my head, I finally pointed out all of the dastardly things that would have to happen in order for that to work which included removal of the 6' tall gate, navigating up a step onto the deck, then down the deck and across the yard. If that wasn't enough, I'd have to clear out the shed of all of the yard tools, beach and lawn chairs, lawnmower, power washer and clutter only to find out that the bike will not fit in a 7' x 7' shed. 

"Build another shed" she says. Well, I did, but only big enough to house all of the yard tools. But the decision was made to build a 10' x 10' shed in the driveway. Let the madness begin.

The town I live in requires that one get a "Use variance" for a shed under 100 square feet and a drawing to show where it is going to go. Okay, fine. The seemingly helpful gentlemen at the zoning office then asked "Are you buying one or what's it going to be made of?" He says. "Stick framed wood." I replied. "Oh, then we'll probably have to get an architect involved." Was his comment. "It's a shed for my motorcycle, I'm not sleeping in it." I replied in great surprise. "Doesn't matter, it's a framed structure." He finally said. The call ended with a "Nevermind" from me.

Crap.

To be continued......

 

The Mythical Sun

I have a solar powered hula girl on my desk.  Because of where she is, like my bicycles and my Harley, she gets little sun. What she does get, as does my bicycles and my Harley, is ambient light 

Now what this ambient light does is give her just enough power to allow her to let off with a little giggle every 5 seconds or so. What she is supposed to do is shake that thing like a hula girl should when she gets full sun.

Now my bikes, human and engine powered, will not wiggle at all. In fact, it pains me to say that I feel that they are mad at me when they do not see the sun or move.

There is only so much I can do in that respect.  The movement part I can do something about. The sun part.... well... that might require a physical relocation and that may happen at some point but at the moment, I am locked into a northeastern winter cold rainy snowy weather poo that engulfs the region. 

Things are changing though! Soon there will be a new 10'x10' shelter logic enclosure for the Harley which will allow it to breathe a little better and I'll post pictures of the progress of that in another posting. She may not be as sad with more room to sit around while we all wait for dryer, sunnier days.

In the meantime, my Zwift cycling buddies and I get to see things like London, Richmond and a fictitious place called Watopia where there is an active volcano and snow capped mountains to climb.....and a blimp.

This time of year... I wish to be above the road.

Winter blahs

So here I am in mid January, driving in my truck on the way home from work, which by the way, gets in the way of my otherwise rockstar lifestyle, and the only thoughts on my mind are:

A. Get on the bike, which is on the trainer, at home and do some miles tonight before I do an interview for the podcast.
B. I should've rode my motorcycle today since it was so nice out, only in the upper 40's but still, nice enough to ride.
C. The weather for the upcoming week looks like crap with temperatures in the upper 30s.

Although I have managed to maintain at least 50 to 100 miles per week on the bicycle trainer, indoors. It does a little to satisfy my need to put on good miles, both on the bicycle, and on the Harley. 

Speaking of which, my dear sweet Sugar, that's my Harley, has sat in the driveway covered and plugged in for the last month and a half. All I have managed is to start her up, check all the usual things and maybe take for a short trip down my dead end street. The weather has neither been acceptable nor cooperative enough for me to put in a significant ride. Unlike my bicycle, I cannot put my motorcycle on an indoor trainer of sorts, and ride it. That might create way too much toxic fumes,  it would be awfully loud and I doubt that the bike could fit inside my office.  I think the pets would object as well.

So this conundrum, that space, that we all experience and consume this time of year here in the Northeast of the United States, puts us all in a terrible state of moaning, groaning, bitching, complaining, and add your favorite negative adjective or expletive here. 

Topsider Resort, Islamorada, Florida Keys

Each evening when I turn on my computer and begin my usual slog through the barrage of emails and links I go through, more often than not, I see photographs and images of all types of men and women who are outdoors riding their motorcycles and their bicycles in fair  weather with blue skies and seemingly warm temperatures. All I can do is moan and let off with a disapproving grunt. Somewhere, deep down, I hate them. And this is nothing new, this is what we experience every year around the same time. And each year, we do nothing to improve that. Oh, we may vacation in some warm spot, spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars to rent a motorcycle or bicycle to bring us one week of joy and it only takes one day to see it washed down the drain the moment we step off whatever flight it is from whatever location, back into the dreary arctic environment.

This is the time of year when we always say to ourselves, "I'm really going to make an effort this year to write a lot more". And then we begin to peruse all the Internet sites looking for roads and destinations in warmer climates that we know, deep down, we know we will never see, not this year anyway.

So every few days, if you are like me, you go out to your motorcycle take off the cover, touch it, sit on it, start it up, check all the lights, beep the horn, rev it up a few times, and then shut it off. Then you cover it up, and go back in the house and sulk. If you're a cyclist, like I am, you have your bike seemingly welded to your indoor trainer and that's where remains until the slightest vestige of warm weather makes an appearance. Until such time, you will spend hours upon hours and miles upon miles riding in a virtual world giving "Thumbs Up" to your virtual cycling buddies on Zwift, to get yourself ready for the "riding season". The sad part about that is… Well… It's all sad.


So in closing, I want to thank all of the motorcycle and bicycle magazines and catalogs, all the motorcycle and bicycle ads, for teasing me and making me consider a move to a warmer climate. Enticing me to look at real estate in said warmer climate. By the way, you suck.