Pins

Rode dirt bikes in the 70's
Nothing in the 80's
Then in the late 90's
Finally, in the great scheme of things
Was able to buy my first Harley
Wife's fatal words that day were,
"Why don't you go ahead and look?"*
That was my ticket outta' Palookaville

*The one sentence in our 40+ years together that she likely regrets.
Well, maybe after "I do."

I caught a serious case of fanaticism

"The Vest"
Notice autographs of Willie G and his son Bill Davidson
For Sale: $1,000,000 or your first born
(I am looking for a grand son)

Scouring catalogues and other bikes
For cool things I could do to personalize mine
Also for clothes, knick-knacks, you name it
Anything related to Harley-Davidson
Much to my wife's dismay
After all, how do you correct a kid
Who has hit his mid-fifties?!

I was also travelling a lot in my work
That took me to a lot of cities
I took to looking up all dealers there
To visit... and to exercise my fanaticism
A habit likely related to my 1/4 Native American origins
Counting coup... except, rather than hitting my enemy with a stick
As my ancestors preferred
I would purchase a dealer pin for my collection

Okay, bad comparison
But I still like to think of it that way
At first I attached the ones I really liked to my leather riding vest
Along with pins customarily given to commemorate bike runs
And pinned others to a cork board I purchased for my office
Then I ran out of room on my vest
In fact, it got so heavy I retired it from wear
Eventually I also had to buy a bigger cork board

After the first couple of years
I also got a little more selective
Having noticed, in a very brief moment of lucid thinking
Some dealers stocked pretty pathetic representations of their logos

Perhaps I had the makings of a rational man after all.......
Nah.

"The Corkboard"
I have been fortunate to visit every one of these, and more
Click on it for astonishing detail... well, maybe not.

Now, I have a couple hundred pins I guess - Give or take
From all over the U.S. - Texas to Florida, California to Ohio
Washington to the Carolinas (Didn't find one in NY)
Even Florence, Italy and Cancun, Mexico
A lot of them are also from biker Mecca, Sturgis
Also other biker events such as The Laughlin River Run
And Reno's Street Vibrations
The far right includes a collection of annual Harley Owner's Group member pins

Pins... just one more way for a Harley rider to punch the old
Figurative fanatic's card
Like the t-shirt says (yea I have a mess of those too)
"I Was There", counting coup in homage to my heritage of course...


I am missing many... no not marbles....pins.  
There is still work to be done.

Veni. Vidi. Velveeta... (They don't make'em...)

Reno's famous Virginia Street during Street Vibrations

...like they used to.

September 20th, 2011 - dateline Reno

Veni
The Coyote, his bride and I
Were to meet early for our annual trek
To Reno, Nevada for the biker event "Street Vibrations"

Coyote and wife both had to work late
The previous night
So begged off our departure time
I had to get there as I also had
A World Poker Tour tournament
I wanted to enter
I left ahead of them

I should have been forewarned things might be cockeyed that day
But I pressed on
Warm temperatures on both sides of the Sierras so I dressed light
T-shirt, shirt and light jacket
Figured I would endure the cold on Donner pass

The trip was smooth and uneventful
Set the cruise control on 80 and let'er rip...
I hit Reno in a couple hours with a little time to spare
So I headed for Chester's Harley Davidson
To present my HOG (Harley Owner's Group) fanatic card
And pick up my 'proof of life',
A commemorative event pin for members only

Got that done then went to the wrong casino
To enter the tournament
They were both off the main strip
And I'm easily confused
But then repacked the bike
And found my way to the right casino in time

Vedi
There I quickly paid up
And had a few moments to grab a bite
Went to the table a couple of minutes early
Sat in my assigned seat
And noticed a player there who looked familiar
I asked, "Is it possible I have seen you on the rectangular screen?"
He said "Yes."

This is TJ
He doesn't look mean at all in real life.
(It took a Poker Hall of Fame pro to knock me out of that
tournament... I'd like to spin it that way.)

I said, "Please forgive me for forgetting but you are...?"
He said, "TJ" and the dealer said his last name but I couldn't make it out
So I said something dumb like; "Well, its awesome to be sitting at the same table with you."
He turned out to be TJ Clotier
My first genuine poker pro and I was gambling with him
Me and eight others that is

(I'm thinking; 'Wow, these are all pros here?... I am in wayyyy over my head.)

Velveeta

I broke (yes, a play on words) into tournament poker here in Sacramento a few months ago

And have played with some pretty tough hombres

So I was surprisingly comfortable with the table

Got about an hour and a half into the puppy

Was a couple thousand ahead

Then after small initial bets ("blinds"), TJ and I were head to head

After the flop I had a flush draw.

TJ was first to act and pushed all in with over 12 thousand in chips

There was a king in the flop and I correctly assumed he had one

But was still surprised at the size of the bet

I knew I had a 15-20% chance, twice to hit the flush

It would be on the turn (sixth card) or the river (seventh and final) card

I had recently seen one of the top players in the world, Phil Hellmuth

Miss a flush in similar circumstances... three consecutive times in a televised tournament

So I had a little more vivid picture of my chances in spite of the odds

Yet, I had a chance to knock out a Hall of Fame poker player

I took the chance and called

It wasn't to be

I again thanked TJ for the privilege of playing against him 

Wished the rest of the table luck (two had been knocked out before me)

And headed on my way with another precious memory

To tuck into the treasure chest

In all, TJ is a really friendly person who plays fairly tight poker
(But I am truly unworthy of judging)

And entertains the entire table with short stories of his past adventures

(That part I CAN judge...)

As for the rest of the trip...

I had a $49 dollar room that night at Reno's Silver Legacy

Right on the strip and in the middle of the biker/vendor action

They close down Virginia Street for bikes and spectators only

It was impressive how low key things were...

Not as many bikers and not as many vendors as years past

The recession has made it less than half of what it once was

But the Coyote, his bride and I still got a chance to mosey

Down the middle of the street,

Enjoying the night lights,  a damn good Santana tribute band

A couple of beers and a couple of stogies

So it was... beat out of a tourney, a low density crowd and few vendors

Cheap and cheesy.. just the way I like it... Velveeta
...and a little spam can't hurt either! 

There Are No Harleys...

... in this post.
But, if you feel something
For the wonderful spirit
You are about to see
You will begin to understand
The Harley-Davidson experience...

Pimp Walk

A few years ago I was learning to accommodate

My pimped out 100th Anniversary Road King.
Changed her for a new Street Glide in '08.
I miss her and all her bling!
Click on the photo to enlarge

An arthritic hip and associated back problems
That made me adjust my gait
When I had a memorable chance encounter.

I was at the grocer's
Had parked and was walk/shuffling/limping into the store
When an employee, a black man
Returning carts to its entrance noticed me and inquired, "Hey man... Is that your pimp walk or did you hurt your leg?"

I laughed and all I could think of to respond was; "Both!"

Fast forward to yesterday
Hip just replaced, I now have a fairly normal looking walk.

Daughter Samantha and I were in a theater parking lot
And I said, "Hey Sam!  Remember that story about the pimp walk?
Now that my hip is fixed I can really do it watch!

I then did my best impression and she quickly said,
"Dad, I don't think you own it."
I said, "What?" (A word my pitiful ears have made me internationally famous for.)
"Own," she said, "I don't think you own it."

Another fine laugh and memory.
I love how these things keep accumulating
Adding to a treasure chest of warm hearted moments.

So you are asking yourself what this has to do with a blog about riding Harley's right?
Well, before the hip and pimp walk fix... I would hardly ride a mile without feeling like I had a toothache in my  rear end... toothache gone!

Pit E. Full

The World's Greatest Rehab Tech and Yours Truly.

I sit here... on a rainy Sunday.
Bathed in the soft glow of of the fickle lights on
The Christmas Tree From Hell.
I notice the four family socks
Hung gracefully on the fireplace mantel.
I am surrounded by little things
Aimed to comfort me as I heal.
Water, coffee, cell phone, laptop
TV remote, extra  blanket, dog Molly.
I am fresh off major sugery
A week tomorrow.
The results exceed my expectations.
I plan to ride across the United States in May.
To participate in the Rolling Thunder Rally for Veterans (POW/MIA) in Washington DC.
This surgery is aimed to get me there.
The trip was on my "bucket list" before the term was invented.
Julieann is spoiling me, yes more so than usual.
She is trying her best to anticipate my every need.
She is succeeding.
I am riding high on pain meds and good old TLC.
I should be ashamed of myself.
I'm not.

*For earlier posts that anticipated this situation please refer to "Cairo Practica, Cairo Practica II and III and Rack'em!"

For an update on the surgery 'its own self' see:

"Minimally Invasive" - The Sordid Details

Tc's InstaGrandson

It's like this.  

TC doesn't have a grand child and he want's one.. or more.

He has asked his son Ty and daughter Sam repeatedly to "Get busy." to no avail.

Once, he even asked Sam to have a little bastard.  She replied, "Hmmm.  With Jake Guyenhall?  

To which he replied, "No problem."  She has since rejected poor Jake as a possibility.

So TC's nephew Dakota has graciously agreed to stand in as official or instaGrandson. 

Until Tom's Son or Daughter come around.

And here they are together in August, 2010

Bonding

Doing Grandson/Grandad things.

'Ima' Happy Camper. 

A "Badass"' Book Review

Suddenly, it seems I have an abiding moral obligation to quote this entire critique by pal and fellow blogger, Annie King.  Over the past two years, I have had the pleasure to get acquainted with Annie through her terrific stories, poems and observations on life.  Last year, Annie graced me by ordering a copy of my internationally famous best seller (Sold one copy to an Australian!). Annie's amazingly accurate critical review followed:

"TC's Hog" latest version

“It’s Never Too Late to Have a Happy Childhood.” The significance of that line sinks in after multiple re-reads of it within the text of Tom Campbell’s entertaining biker book:Badass: The Harley-Davidson Experience. Tom Campbell is a family man, a Harley owner and rider, a medical consultant, and a reluctant poet. You can read his prose and poetry on his blog, This is… the Life. Oh Yes it is. CABG is a recent favorite of mine, along with an entry about his trip to New Orleans.

Badass: The Harley-Davidson Experience is part advice book and part travelogue, chronicling Tom’s ride from his home in Sacramento, California to Sturgis, South Dakota for the annual biker rally. In the second half of the book, Tom expands his narrative style with longer entries and descriptive passages. One of my favorite sections is an entry that has nothing to do with motorcycle riding at all, but everything to do with life: If You Think Motorcycles Are Dangerous, ‘Tri’ a Triathlon! The writing is vivid, and you feel every scrape and bump and exhilarating moment along the way.

Finally, in the Epilogue, Tom admits he is more milquetoast than badass (as if the reader hasn’t figured it out!), and his confession is all the more endearing as he thanks his wife, in an earlier section, for her support. I believe he is more explorer, nature lover, and student of life than milquetoast, but we will leave that assessment up to Tom!

For anyone who has ever ridden or driven a motorcycle, and anyone who wants to take that special ride with Tom, you can follow his journey to happiness by reading Badass. If you order the book, it comes leather bound with hand-sewn hemp stitching, and Tom’s personal autograph. As the tale of one man’s journey, and the portrait of a good guy, the book is a joy to own. (But if your name is Billy, and you rode with Tom to Sturgis, or if you like both orange juice and milk with your morning coffee, don’t read this book!)


Thank you Annie King!  You are a nice person!