work – Jeff Maddox

Sometimes, the answer to most questions in this simple mind of mine is to grab the handlebars of my motorcycle and go for a ride. In my last post Tomorrow We Drive, I talked about winter riding and how we need to find those brief opportunities to get the bike out and depending on your region, those brief moments maybe few and far between. But if you’re lucky, this may not be a concern. I’ve heard there are parts of the country where you can ride in relative nice weather all year long. Oh, the luck.

I work in the motorcycle/powersports industry and I stare at this stuff all day long. I talk to many folks that buy bikes and such in the winter as well, and I guess in some sort of twisted way this is me subconsciously grabbing my handlebars to get a fix. You don’t have to always ride a motorcycle, but it helps when it comes to the I can’t ride today blues. Paycheck? Oh, that too. When you think about, talk about, work around and ride bikes all year long, and still want to go for a ride? Hi, my name is Jeff and I might have a problem.

“When you think about, talk about, work around and ride bikes all year long, and still want to go for a ride? Hi, my name is Jeff and I might have a problem.”

I’m pretty fortunate to do something I love. I’ve been lucky as an adult to really not have a job that sucked, but this particular industry has allowed me to be who I am without everyone thinking I’m crazy. There are a lot of great people I’ve met and gotten to know that I wouldn’t have otherwise had the opportunity to. Hmm, I wonder if they say the same about me? Of course they do.

Now that we’re a couple of weeks away from a new year, I know it won’t be long before the daylight lasts a little longer and the temperature becomes more comfortable. It’ll be fine, right? I’m not the only one thinking about this I’m sure. Well, except those living in a place where it’s unimaginable to reside somewhere that has seasons.

And so I sit on this cold, windy day looking at the forecast. Sunday looks like a possibility and it might be nice to ride around this small town I live in. Even a short ride can go a long way with me this time of year. And if the ride doesn’t happen you’ll at the very least find me at work thinking and talking about it.

If there is one thing I truly enjoy, it would be meeting new people. Recently while flying to San Diego California for a motorcycle dealer show (my first trip to California), I sat next to a gentleman who, quite obviously was traveling for business as well, wearing a suit jacket and slacks. In my line of work, business casual is just that – minus the business. Blue jeans, tennis shoes and a work shirt are sufficient and from the untrained eye it would appear I was just an average guy on a plane. Who am I kidding, I’m just average no matter how you dress me. As the flight took off from DFW we sat mostly silent in our seats. During the first few minutes of the flight we could over-hear two random passengers talking about airplanes, their history, books they’ve read and some museums they both have been to. What luck, I thought, that two guys from different corners of this country could find each other and have so much in common and be seated that close for the next couple of hours. I made the comment “sounds like they were made for each other” and my friend next to me said “yes, and it is very interesting to listen to.” I agreed, and now the ice was broken and our own conversation took off.

And as we talked, I realized that we too, are from different corners of this country and in some random strategy that only the airlines can come up with, placed us right next to each other. He is from Atlanta and just recently moved there with his work. I am from a small town in Kansas with the apparent boat anchor tied to my ankle.

We talked about the usual – where are you headed, what do you do and where are you from – mixed with some smaller details of family, life and business. And as we talked, I realized that we too, are from different corners of this country and in some random strategy that only the airlines can come up with, placed us right next to each other. He is from Atlanta and just recently moved there with his work. I am from a small town in Kansas with the apparent boat anchor tied to my ankle. He oversees a national sales force with about 140 employees selling medical devices and I sell motorcycles to those who I hope will never need such medical devices. A common thread being my daughter Kelly has had the Harrington rods placed in her back from Scoliosis. He asked how, after all these years, she was doing with them, and I thought back to the days of when she was going through that. He talked of the challenges he has with his line of work, and I could fully relate.

As most conversations do, it turned to politics and family, social media and the likes, and how this world is changing right before our eyes. He spoke of his ten-year old son, Jackson, who has a great relationship with his grandmother, wants to have a little more responsibility at home, and how his two children and wife are why he does what he does. Losing time with family at home to travel to a meeting in San Diego is a sacrifice, but right now it’s what he needs to do. Work hard, and enjoy the moments you have when you get home. Originally from Texas, he said that having family nearby was great, and they still get there once a month or so to visit. I, on the other hand, have my folks right down the street and most of my family is close enough that it really isn’t that big of a deal.

A lot in common? Sure. Different? Not in a bad way. For a couple of hours I had a great conversation with someone who I could relate to. So often we sit and not say a word, when the individual sitting right next to us is so much like us, or better yet, so different from us that it will be interesting either way. The plane landed and we shook hands. I wished him well and safe travels as I would any of my closest friends, and he was gone. I would like to think in this great big world, that I left an impression on him. We often move about our day and don’t realize the impact we might have on someone, and he had an impact on me. I learned something about the business he is in and I would like to think he got off the plane and thought the same about me. I wonder if he noticed the mark around my ankle where the boat anchor used to be.