Poet Horton

Where Are You?

You were not ever supposed to leave me Poet. Where have you gone and why didn’t you take me along for the ride right beside you? I miss you so much, I can’t do this myself. Please look down on us and help me make it through the day before I lose my fucking mind………………………………………..

Saving America?

Politics seem to be the big talk of the town these days,what with the gas prices and the loss of jobs affecting the economy as it is. Now this Obama fellow is acting like some kind of rock star making all these stops in foreign nations as if he’s already the leader of the free world. Problem with Obama is that his entire rhetoric is based on change without substance. After educating myself on his record and performance,it shows he’s all talk and little action. He voted against the building of new refineries despite the fact that we are in desperate need of them, and he voted against any new drilling for oil on our own lands as well. Instead he pushes for higher taxes on electricity and inventing new power sources. Now if you look at this realistically, we’ve been searching for alternative fuels for years now, and the invention of more economical sources of transportation as well. But the democratic party has blocked all attempts at the reduction of dependence on foreign oil by refusing to allow our own oil exploration to evolve.

McCain, on the other hand, has spoken realistically about our problems, not promising to make miracles happen and telling the American people the truth about what we face in the future and offering real solutions and the sacrifices we may have to make in order to free ourselves from dependence on foreign oil. Obama is a charismatic man, but has no plan for anything. Not the economy, the oil crisis, not for bringing jobs back or reducing taxes. Obama has nothing new to offer in the arena of change. His entire platform is based on change for the sake of change! He has no substance and no experience, and to top it off, the Muslim nations would love to see Barack Hussein Obama elected president of America, if for no other reason then to claim a victory over America from the inside. McCain knows what it will take to put America back in the driver’s seat of world economics as well as restoring the respect of our military worldwide. Freedom is not free my friends, as a two time, two service veteran, I can see only one choice in keeping America the land of the free and the home of the brave. Vote for McCain, because you love your country!

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.

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.

Father’s Day

Now the funny thing about the upcoming Father’s Day Weekend, is that my ol’ lady has decided to kidnap me for the weekend and carry me and the kids off to her mother’s place on the water. The reason I always find any visit to my in-laws humorous, is that when I first got together with my wife all they knew about me was that I was some horrible, tattooed, bearded, outlaw biker that was just out to get their money! As far as they knew, and all that they’d ever believed about, “my type of person”, was pure evil incarnate that went through innocent girls like candy bars! I was a street person while they were very upper class and to them, the two worlds aren’t ever supposed to mix. I still grin whenever I think about it. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve grown to, pretty much, love me. After all, me and the ol’ lady’s commitment to each other has outlasted and been far more solid than any of their own pairings, of which we’ve witnessed all of them go through a number of tumultuous relationships over the years. And of right now, they all seem to have finally settled somewhat with their present mates. Yes, indeed, can’t wait to see my in-laws this weekend!

Twist of Life

I come from a rather large family, eight of us to be exact. Five brothers and two sisters. I’m in the middle. Born to a military family we traveled a lot so I was always the new kid on the block. Not that that wasn’t hard enough as it is, but I had to follow my older brothers and the one sister through school, time and time again. Fact is, they could read and write, do the alphabet forwards and backwards and count in two languages before they entered school. This seemed to frustrate the teachers for some reason so the school board came down on my folks stating that it was their job to teach. Whatever else was said I’m not sure, but when it came time for me to go to school, the teachers all assumed my parents had already taught me so they neglected to even attempt to teach me anything. Therefore I never learned to read and write until around the fourth grade and only then because of my mom giving me comic books. That itself was the beginning of the system letting me down. This kind of action plagued my youth. When we returned from Germany the US school system was just starting integrating the schools. I was sent to one called “Lula G. Scott Elementary”. A one time school for Blacks that the system surely didn’t care too much about. But even there I was a bit of a problem and wound up having the school system shut me out again. This time they promised my folks that if they kept me out of school that they would graduate me and even allow me to attend any after school functions if I so desired, just so long as I didn’t enter the school itself, especially during school hours. Needless to say, I graduated from that school then it was on to the next one. All in all it was pretty much the same wherever I went, so I never really went to a complete school year and wound up dropping out completely after one day of the eighth grade.

It wasn’t long before my character started getting me into serious trouble. Not just with the law but with street gangs and other hoods. Eventually I wound up being busted and sent by the courts and the military’s “Champus” to “Boys town”. This was a place outside of Cincinnati, Ohio called Mount Alverno, a school for wayward boys run by the “Brothers of the Poor St. Francis”, an order of monks. I was there for three and a half years, but did manage to run off a few times while I was incarcerated there. I also broke quite a few records while there. I’ll talk about my time there on another occasion. I will, however say that an incident hat occurred while I was in “The Yard” actually turned my life around somewhat. And that I owe much of what I’ve become, (the good part of me that is), to one Brother Victor Callahan. He showed me trust, and his actions still influence me today. I owe him a lot. And I often wonder whatever became of him. Mt. Alverno was torn down in 1971 shortly after I was released back into the world. Which explains why I was released I guess.

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”!

To Show or not to Show..what was the question?

My youngest girl and I really did have a pretty good time at the antiques show in Brimfield, despite the fact we didn’t exactly break any sales records. The price of gas along with the setup fees and motel room rentals and the feeding of our faces takes a bit to catch up on when it comes to such shows. But we did manage to come out ahead enough to make a slight profit and get a few bills paid in the process. This was the second time my youngest got to go with me to this particular event. She really enjoys doing the markets with her Dad. And I really like having her assistance. She’s good company and makes me not miss bringing one of the bikes along. Although she likes taking a ride on the old rat bike nearly as much as her mom does!

“Brimfield”

Once again I got rained on at Brimfield! It would seem that the rain gods just won’t allow me the good fortune to get through a whole show in yankee-land without my getting wet! I’m beginning to have second thoughts as to my continuing to set up at the Brimfield Massachusetts antique show. While many of the dealers that I know continue to talk up their profit margin with tales of them making anywheres from 8 to 75 thousand dollars in three days. I can’t seem to break the 2 thousand mark for the life of me. And its not because of my gear, for crissakes, my gear is as good, and in many cases better, than what they carry. I’m sure some of the braggadocio is simply that. But I do see many of them making the big bucks while my booth is lacking in visitation. A lot of it may have to do with location. I have been offered by several other dealers to set up in their fields for a longer period of time at nearly the same costs. AND, they have more to offer then where I am at presently. Guess I am going to have to give it some serious thought if i am to continue doing the show there. maybe it is time for a change after all!