Poet Horton

Old Friends and Enemies Alike

I do believe I need to give a shout out to all those who’ve lived life on the road and have come to think those days are now behind them. We made it thru the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s thinking it would never end. Plowed right thru the 90’s, most of us, raising what was our last chance of a family. Well, now it’s the 21st century and so far life sucks and we’ve begun to stagnate. Let’s face it, we’re nomads! Wanderers, gypsies of a unrecognized social standing nearly forgotten. Why I bet most of ya’lls kids don’t know of your hell-raisin’ days or that their sweet soccer mom was once a titty dancer and a damned good one too!

The way I figure it, is that in a few more years our youngest will be in college and we can sell this house and land, what there is of it, and pick up where we left off some 20 years back or so. Now I’m sure a lot of you old scooter folk are no longer with that mate of yours from some 30 years back or so. Some of ya may have hung in there despite it all, like me and the ol’ lady have. I sure would like to know what your lives are like now and just what you intend to do with the rest of what ya got left. As for me and Lori, we plan on going out pretty much the same way we come in, kickin’ and screamin’!

If any old friends, acquaintences, dancers, daydreamers and old riding buddies or even those who’ve disliked my ass or even drooled over my ol’ lady would like to drop a line, why just start right here and leave me a comment. Maybe we can all hookup somewhere down the line and see for ourselves that the brotherhood of bikers, and the gals that loved us, still got it after all!  Shiny up ya’ll.

Old friends

We got a surprise visit from an old friend today. This fella I used to call my “protege”, due to the fact he actually paid attention when he was growing up and I was around. Always wanted to see how things were done, willing to get right in there and learn about whatever was available. He wound up pretty much following in my footsteps so to speak. became a bike mechanic, built his own Harley and rode the old girl all over, wore her like a second skin, believes, to this very day, in our biker lifestyle. Old school scooter tramp lifestyle, not like the yuppie wannabes or the posers or the weekend warrior types. real people, and good for his word. Anyway, he even looks like me, down to the balding factor, although he is a bit younger than myself, he did go bald faster than I did anyway. Love the guy, he’s like an uncle to my girls and a brother to my ol’ lady. We sat and gabbed a bit and while he was there another blast from the past called on his cell phone and when he handed me the phone the ol’ gal recognized my voice immediately. I really have to get back to good health so I can get back on the road and in the game again. Not that I’m totally out of the loop or anything, but it’d be nice to get back to the level of fear and respect I once so thoroughly enjoyed. besides, I’ve not yet reached the point where I’d not be considered sexually attractive by some of these younger split-tails that seem to continue to be thrilled by bad-boy types on motorcycles. After all, I’m married, not dead! Come to think of it, I’d really like to hear from some of the folk me and the ol’ lady used to know back in the day when we traveled the country and worked the titty bars. If for no other reason then to know they’re still kickin’ and see where life has taken them to this point. Hell, I’m sure there are a few that think us from time to time and wonder the same thing.

Putting her back in the game

Decided that I’ve been idle long enough and therefore brought the bike out from the depths of the garage and have begun to bring her back to life. All I need to do now is replace the throwout bearing on the clutch and that shouldn’t take me more then a couple of hours at best. The worst part of the job is going back down to the Harley Davidson dealer slash bike Shop where the mechanics are  young enough to be my grandkids and all only know what they’ve been taught in one of those technical schools and don’t know crap about anything built before the ’80’s. I won’t even comment about looking for parts for the Pan for crissakes. The rat bike freaks them out as it is! Well, it does give them a thrill to aid an oldtimer like myself I guess. Even if they do have a tendency to irritate me from time to time.

That “Feeling Down” syndrome

I’m guessing that my life is finally caught up with me. My health, although by appearances seems to be improving, is not. My multiple back injuries have taken their toll and now I dread having to move at times. I’m losing my memory, my eyesight is getting worse, and I have little or no taste left. Not sure what else is going to fail next but I just hope when it does go it does it when I’m alone so I don’t have to play hard-ass and suck it up while I fall over dead or something.

I’ve managed to pack rat away far too much junk over the years playing citizen and now I’m at that crossroads where I am about to just chuck it all out and say “to hell with it”. I spend my military pension and my entire social security on keeping the house and paying some bills. I reinvest so little to making it at the markets that it doesn’t seem to be paying off. Unable to ride the bike due to the seriousness of my pain problems. I have no social life and my personal life sucks. But I must admit, I do put on a good front. Depression doesn’t help my mood any either. I’ve several doctor’s appointments coming up at the VA this month. I may just check out the sixth floor to see if the head doctors might be able to shed some light on things. It’s a real pain getting old, and I’ve figured out what the worst thing about growing old is…its growing old!

Not Quite What Was Expected

The ol’ lady and I took our girls and two of our youngests friends out to the water on Father’s Day weekend so that we might enjoy a few days of relaxation. It didn’t quite turn out the way she had expected. What with all the stress she’s under handling just about anything and everything , she didn’t quite appreciate everybody telling her “not” to do so much. She felt like everyone was criticising her every move in voicing their opinions on whatever she said, or so it seemed to her. In all actuality they were just a bit overly concerned that she was ruining her health by doing so much. What they can’t seem to comprehend is that she likes doing things for people less fortunate then ourselves. We’ve both pretty much been that way from way before we even met, we’re scooter folk for crissakes. We know what it’s like to be down and nearly out. Our people have helped us in times of need and it’s only natural to reach out when you can and assist a fella or a dame in need. Especially if they have kids. Never suffer the innocent we believe.

Say that Again

My darling wife and fiercely loyal compatriot, the intelligent, patient mother of my children…”BARFED ” on me today!! Poor girl, we’d ordered out for tacos and burritos and what she called a “Mexican pizza”. Which, by the way, is what we believe made her so sick. Now if you didn’t think it looked more like chunky menudo than a pizza, you most surely did after the second coming! It was bad! Almost had me gagging there for a minute. But like a good ol’ man, I held her hair back and rubbed her neck, told her everything would be alright and she did it again! All over me, now that was the last straw, I needed a shower bad. Only thing holding me up, was that the ol’ lady had just ran a tub for herself! There ya go! It was okay though, I knew how to use the garden hose!

About me:

:
I’m an old school harley ridin’ hardass with attitude. I’m over 50 now,still puttin’, and still an asshole. I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s, built my first hawg when I was but 12 years of age with the help of a coupla local hardcore tramps, now long dead, (but not forgotten). In my some 40 odd years of ridin’, I’ve ’bout seen it all, and been participant in most that. I’ve served in both the Army AND Navy, and honorbly discharged from both. A bad attitude with three failed marriages and one rightious ol’ lady who’se managed to hang with this old dog for well over 30 years now. I’ve ridden to and thru 49 of the 50 states and about 28 or so countries. Hopefully I’m remembered by a few with some degree of favorability, and to those that’ve found me unlikable, well, they can STILL kiss me where the sun don’t shine. Now I’ve been witness, as over the years tastes in sleds have changed, as has the “biker” community itself, and even how motorcyclists in general are now percieved. Myself, Well I believe Harley hasn’t really built a motorcycle since 1966, but then again thats just my opinion, and ya’ll know what they say about opinions! And one more thing…ownin’ a bike don’t make ya no biker! and bein’ a biker don’t make ya no badass! shiny up now ya hear!?

Never judge a book by its cover

“See us here we heathen type
smoking evil weed from homemade pipe
with greasestained jeans
and unkempt hair
a big ol’ “hawg”
and no underwear

filthy mouths and wicked minds
a form of life of the lowest kind
we fornicate, we fight
we ride, we lust

we eat like pigs
no-one we trust

uncouth, unclean, uncaring we
and naught but this they ever see
 so we flip the bird
and laughing shout…

” WE ARE THE PEOPLE OUR PARENTS WARNED US ABOUT!”

The wonder behind the “Thunder”

Memorial day always brings out a bit of angst in me. Don’t get me wrong here, after all, I’m a two service vet with two honorable discharges. And I fully support the actions of those members of the new Rolling Thunder crowd that commemorate the service of veterans everywhere and so show their support with this annual run to the wall and all. But what tics me off ever so slightly is this rolling thunder claims of their all being there for the first rolling thunder! That, my friends, is a load of bull! For one thing, the first event took place a few years earlier then when they’re claiming it did. Not only that, but the first run was over a helmet protest and simply escalated from there. Hell, the “Wall” hadn’t even been built for crissakes! The reason I know this was because I myself was there. The idea originated in the nudie bars in DC where many of us congregated at the time. The original crew were made up of one per-centers and radical independents, the unrecognized motorcycle society that so few wish to acknowledge. But like so many factions of our world, it has been turned to other meanings, much like the “Hog Riders” association taking the nickname of our Harleys and making it into some yuppie free for all, club patches and the whole nine yards. So is the way of “Rolling Thunder”. They’ve managed to do much the same with the handle given to the sound of gathering sleds of an underground nation.

Well, more power to ‘em, let ‘em go for it. Watch as they try and make respectable a tiny section of our life. Only thing is, if you look close enough, what makes them up these days are simply part timers and weekend warriors, old taggers that’ve found a new release in an old world. Like I said before…there are so few of us left, you rarely see the reality of what lays hidden behind the facade of today’s so called, “bikers”!

Music?

As I lay listening to the music on the satellite TV hookup, had it tuned to the 70’s station first off, and after searching all the stations and scoping’ on them for a bit, I’ve a pure opinion of the crux of today’s music the new youth are listening to…they’ve BUTCHERED it! I mean really. Of course the stations only go back to the forties but they cover each decade from the 40’s to the present. And they do it decade by decade, so you can actually get a fairly good grasp on the growth and/or destruction of the quality of lyrical expression over the years. And let me tell you, when one century ends, the sudden decline might just amaze you.

Music used to be a celebration of life’s trials and tribulations, with the whimsical and sometimes off the wall song thrown in just to keep ya grinning’. Even country music covered the realities of life with a bit of the dramatic, but the music was good, the rhythm was there, and you could not only relate to the songs but you could actually understand what the heck they were saying! Now-a-days you’re lucky to get the title right after hearing the same song a half dozen times wondering each time if that is indeed the same song?! And its more trash talk than anything even closely related to real music. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with my assessment of the musical trend. And if you are inclined to actually like that “rap” stuff, then I offer my sincere condolences for your lack of taste. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I hear some ZZ Top in the other room! Bye y’all…