Tag: friends

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It’s Never Too Late

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Yesterday a friend of mine mentioned of having thoughts of mortality because of the loss of a close friend. Along with other things going on in and around her life with family, my only comment was “this is what makes us realize how precious life really is”. I too, have had these thoughts the last couple of years with the loss of a couple of friends. Both losses didn’t make much sense and to this day still don’t. But every day I get up, do my best, be myself and carry on with the day-to-day stuff. While most of the “stuff” I refer to is pretty meaningless in the big picture, it needs to be done. But more importantly, it needs to be done. It is the “stuff” we do that gets us through every day, whether it’s dealing with mortality, or stress or whatever. So we do it. Sometimes begrudgingly, but we do it all the same.

My approach to the last couple of years of dealing with these thoughts have been simply to tell those around me how important they are in my life. It’s not something we usually do, I know, but think about it. A few simple words of encouragement, a random message that you are thinking of them, or better yet a “thank you” for being a person in your life can give both parties a clear understanding of where we are in this world. I may not see you or talk to you again before something sudden happens. But if something does, if nothing else, I know we both know. Realize, that if you volunteer to someone what you think about them, and you don’t get the same response, it’s ok. Just know that when they walk away they will be thinking about what you said.

There are a lot of inspirational quotes to fall back on that can bring reassurance and peace to our lives, but the impact of a few original words from your mouth can change people. And the feeling it gives you is the same peace in our lives that we need. Outcomes in life can’t always be changed. And we can go through life thinking people know how we feel about them. Maybe they do know, but what better way to make sure than to tell them yourself?

Live your life and enjoy even the bad days. It’s ok to feel the way you do and to open up your heart even if it hurts. Easier said than done, without a doubt, but today is the day someone may need to hear how important they are to you.  So tell them.

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The Search

We spend our days searching. Searching for answers and places. Whether at work or on our own time, the day is filled with searching. Something to eat? Where will we sit? What’s on TV? Where is my life going? And most of the time we muddle through the food part and what’s on TV with out too much trouble. But life? That’s when I’m stumped.

Can’t find your keys? They will show up later when you aren’t looking for them. Shoe’s? They never get lost in pairs, but they will surface I promise. Friends? When you need them, they’ll be there. Not always easily found, and usually not the person you think it will be, but someone will be there for you. You may not realize it at the time, but they are there. Some random stranger that asks a question, or someone you wouldn’t consider a friend that suddenly comes up to you. Don’t worry, their intentions are good.

More often than not we have more questions than answers when it comes to ourselves. But the answers to most questions lie in each and every one of us. But those answers are to other people’s questions. We are the friend when someone is in need. And the one who misplaced your keys…

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Friends are Family

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This past week has brought back a lot of memories, as a close friend of mine lost his sister. We all grew up together in the sleepy little town of  White City and our two families were pretty close.  A town where we all know each other anyway, but this is different. Russ’s dad and my dad worked together and commuted to work in their old Chevy pickups, only back then they weren’t that old. In the seventies a ’67 wasn’t that old! Russ and I were in the same class and Leah was in my sister’s class. Growing up with the Sams’ was cool. Russ and I rode bicycles until motorcycles came along and then it was “game on”. Lot’s of dust and wheelies through the summers mixed in with trips to the Council Grove Lake. Where else but small town America can you ride twenty miles to the lake on the tailgate of a pickup? Right down the highway, tennis shoes touching the asphalt and facing cars as they came up behind you. Good times.

Our house or theirs, it didn’t matter. Ralph and Joyce and Jean and Sammy were our folks and as a kid I couldn’t ask for more. But as we grew older and our lives started to change, so did the connection we had. Years passing with a blink of an eye as our own families grew and Russ and his wife Kay moved away. On many occasions they would return and  a handshake and a hug got us caught up on what we’ve missed. Friends like this need no introduction. We all have them, but we don’t usually recognize them. They are there and we take them for granted. I over-heard Russ say after the amazing service celebrating Leah’s life “why does it take something like this to bring us all together?” He’s right.

Last night Russ and his son Jeremy and daughter Whitney came over to my house. We talked about White City, his property in Skiddy, dogs, senior pictures, owl tattoos and mutual friends.We talked about Leah and how her husband Jim was getting along, but mostly we just talked. In an hour of talking with my friend, we made up for several years of being away from each other. So much was said in the small talk, but you really had to listen to the conversation. As if reading between the lines I heard the words Life, Love, Friendship and God. Russ you are my friend. Truly. Leah, you will be missed until we meet again!

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The way we were

They say that everything comes full circle. Old becomes new again and fads come and go. I grew up in the 70’s and 80’s and I will tell you there are certain parts of that era I really don’t want to see again. Hair styles and leisure suites, bell bottoms and fringed jackets, I can live without. But there are many things that I miss as well. Three-wheelers! I had several in the 80’s and even raced them competitively. They were a great source of fun and as far as I was concerned, safe. At least as safe as the person riding it.

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I never felt out of control or in “danger” at any time, and I don’t think the evil three-wheeler had it out for us. Looking back I think they were a very neccessary part of our lives and was just a step to the four-wheeler we love today. An absolute hoot to ride and race, it’s weird that future generations will have to look at them from a history perspective.

Countless hours of play riding in all kinds of weather, all year round. Water, snow and mud were just a normal day and you could ride wheelies FOREVER!

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Sure, you had to ride them differently than anything else. Steering with the rear wheels, sliding around corners, transferring your weight to stay on it was a workout. A solid rear axle made it interesting and unless you picked up the inside wheel as you were turning, it wanted to go straight. The first time I rode one was a 1980 Yamaha Tri-Moto 125. A friend and I were riding out in the country North of White City and happened along a farmer friend of ours that was using his Tri-Moto for checking on fences. We stopped and talked to him and it was really the first up-close encounter I ever had. Beautiful yellow plastic, big balloon tires and a freakish long saddle. With no suspension, a guy like me had to wonder how it handled.

The next thing I know, I’m being offered the opportunity to ride it back to his house about a half mile away. I jumped at the chance and Grady and Mike took off on the dirt bikes and left me to figure it out! Rope start, semi-automatic transmission and no instructions on how to turn it. Couldn’t be that hard! It started easy enough, with one pull of the rope. Great! I clicked it into gear and turned the grip. But the grip didn’t turn. Thumb throttle. OK, so maybe it’s a little different than what I’m used to. I give it some gas and run right into the barb wire fence. Grady and Mike are long gone and I’m in some episode of the “Twilight Zone”. Nothing is what it seems and Rod Serling is standing just behind me with a suite and thin black tie on (didn’t that come back into style?) smoking a cigarette saying “Jeff, just when he thinks he knows it all…he enters the Twilight Zone”. I back up a little give it some gas and once again, right  into the fence. After a few minutes I get it going and for a half of mile I never felt sure of what would happen next.

It didn’t take me long to figure it out and of course, I had to have one of these things. So after owning several and racing a few and many, many hours of fun, they were gone. I actually remember when Suzuki came out with the first four-wheeler. I drove an hour to a Suzuki shop to see it in person. I really didn’t think at the time anyone would want a “four-wheeler” because three wheels had to be better. I also made the same assumption when cassette tapes first came out and Beta versus VHS. Don’t ask me about stuff like that. I still have a closet of stuff waiting for old to become new again.

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The Beaten Path Less Traveled

So I’ve been thinking about the road less traveled. We motorcyclists seem to search out this road to find the peace and serenity of a curvy or tree-lined way of getting there. Usually it’s a short two-lane between cities or major highways, but beautiful none the less. But how far is the road less traveled? How far is “off the beaten path”?

A road trip to Sturgis in 2007 found me and six of my friends on one of these roads. It was a Sunday and it didn’t take us long to find out that in some remote places of this country there is a world of folks that take Sunday off! Mostly gas station attendants and repair shops. As we rode into the Northwest of Nebraska we soon found out that the more you need gas, the harder it is to find. A great idea of a modern version of the old gas station,open 24 hours, to include beef jerky, hotdogs on heated rollers and pay at the pump gas, more commonly known as a convenience store, had yet to make it to this corner of Nebraska.

As we pulled into a farmer’s co-op this Sunday afternoon with a closed sign in the window and no pay at the pump, it was decided that a restroom was also a pretty important part of the modern conveniences we have come to expect. Well what do seven guys do when nature calls? We answer  the phone! Standing next to a bulk fuel truck and our backs to the highway, we found the one person that does work on a Sunday. He wears a badge and drives a pretty fast car. He pulls in and asked what we were doing in a very nice but firm manner. We explained the situation and expecting the worse, he was quick to get on the one piece of modern technology that did make this far off the beaten path, his cell phone! He called the one guy that could come and open the co-op for us to get gas.

Relieved, in more ways than one, we stayed for a little while and spent some money on Snickers bars and Mountain Dew. The appreciation on our faces was obvious and the officer stayed and hung out as well. It is truly amazing at the helpfulness of those in the small towns. I know as I’m from one myself. But to go out of your way and help is a two way street. Pass it on or pay it forward. Take the road less traveled and relax. Meet the local people face to face, or wave at the young boys on their bicycles as you ride through town. It’s a pretty universal language.

As I said, coming from a small town myself I know how these communities struggle. Next time you stop for gas, buy that candy bar or hotdog on a heated roller and show your support. You never know, that same place may not be open next time you pass through without your support.