The First Few Miles
August 4, 2001
The beginnings of things.


To: [everyone]
Date: 08/04/2001 12:04 AM

I got up at 6am this morning to see my friends off.  The radio actually turned on at 5am, but it was too dark for Harvey to be riding over to Oakland from the city, so I figured I could lounge in bed for an extra hour.  So I got to John's place in Oakland around a quarter to 7, hoping they wouldn't already be gone.  As luck would have it, John's kitchen light was still on, and no other motorcycles were in sight.  First one there.

Yep, today is the Friday of the starting of their annual Sturgis, South Dakota, ride.  I'll miss it this year because it coincides with the two busiest weeks at work.  That madness was supposed to start tonight, but it's been postponed a week, maybe more.  But probably just a week.  So John, Robby, and Harvey, two white guys and one Chinese, all in their fifties, on old Harley Davidsons in their sixties, began the long ride today.  I wished them a good ride and rode with them the first twenty-five miles, from Oakland to Pleasanton, where I pulled off the freeway and putted into work while they continued on down the 580, headed east towards the great big middle of the country, the continent.  I wonder what adventures I'll miss this year, what collisions with small animals, what thunder and rain, what part of John's duct-taped and bungee-corded beater of a '37/'41 Flathead will break down and leave them stranded for hours or days in Utah or Wyoming or Idaho.  All part of the fun.

Have a good ride, fellas.

- - - - -

So there was a pretty girl at the ice rink last night.   Man, that was nice.  She was half Asian half white, and she skated beautifully, and when she smiled she smiled big, and when she fell, she fell hard.  Really, she absolutely slammed into the ice four times that I saw, and possibly more times that I didn't, though it couldn't have been very many more, because my attention, I'll admit, was on her for most of the whole two hours.

Inspiration is absolutely key for getting your skates to dance on the ice.  For the first time in a while, I had no shortage of it.  Whoowhee, that was fun.  And the feeling...I'm not mistaking it for love, or even a crush.  It's just hope, pure, simple.  And delicious.  Recognizing it for what it is, I let myself savor it, almost bask in it.  It isn't something I taste often.  And it almost certainly won't last.  But it sure is nice while it's here.  Mmmm, who needs alcohol or drugs when you can get a high like that off of hope?

I sure hope she comes back.  :)

--Yong



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