I'm taking a good long break from the computer. Just so's you know, I sort of lost the will to talk.

Now trying to write some in my little notebooks and take pictures, and look at birds with my new field glasses.

Mr. Chris came back from France and we've been taking some hard hills. I've been teaching him how to eat 3 sandwiches a day and still be lean and with a stunning bib-short tan.

Hope you all are doing okay out there. I'm better than I've been in a long time.

PS-- This blog is dead.

One of the Good Ones

The Snus tig's up a custom "Cop Caller" exhaust for the Ghost.

That thing about too loud vs. too old and all of that? It's true. Fuck 'em. I'm a pissed off white boy in a fast car.

A fast car with NHTSA approved child safety seats securely fastened in the back.

Sigh.

Some people were born to Rock and Roll.

Anatomy of a Sunday.

ALIVE.

I did not push it here. I did not have to push it into the shop. It moved itself, loudly, and with little chirps from the tires.

There has been some progress in this life. There are disappointments. My own failings.

But, the kids are beautiful and the car runs. Another summer looks up from getting dressed and smiles.





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Friend Report

You are all Golden and I Love you.

Red Dot, Pink Shoes.

New Tuesday Schedule

It's nice, if you can avoid getting killed by thousand-pound boulders.



There is a waterfall here. It's private and you can hear the trains way down in the river gorge.



Then later: 9 little beers. All good.

Twin Turbo, Missed Shift, 253 mph.

Park Time

Goddamn Fucking Goddamn Car

When it comes down like this, look out.

Look out for me, baby. I might be driving down your street with my head on the window. I might be turning the radio off and on.

Depression like a bomb in the middle of my life. Scattering children and wives everywhere.

Shit I say, I can't believe it. Try explaining your actions later. Just try. I dare you.

I'm not as bad as you think I am, but I'm pretty fucking close.

Look out for me, baby.

"I'm straight, and I want to take his place"

Song of Myself

Seth reads a bit of Whitman for the first time on my phone, just after 3 this morning.

Ace Hotel