Happy Travels

Our field correspondent, Dad, had this to say about his Saturday night.

“Saturday night I went out to get a bite to eat. In my travels I passed by the Rusty Nail and the parking lot was overflowing. On my way back I thought why not stop in and see some Nashville night life. Walked in the door and was was greeted with “Come on in!” by I guess the owner and other hostess. Place was full and the band was making music. I sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. The location at the bar where I was sitting was where most people were ordering  their drinks. I was very pleased at the friendliness of everyone that stepped up to order. The bar maids were feverishly serving everyone. Now after all that I looked up at the wide screen behind the bar and a AMA race at Sonoma was showing. Sure was good to see the bikes gliding around the course. Brought back memories of seeing you do the same.”

Which is all very interesting to me. I received this correspondence as I was settling into my new totally insulting cubicle at work with the bullshit team of numbnuts I’ve been placed under.

What my Dad was reflecting on was some totally epic shit (like real epic shit, not just words in a URL) I did when I previously succumbed to a similar working situation. And it just so happens I’ve been thinking about re-instating the totally epic shit rule. Simply put: work sucks, but pays the bills and affords totally kick-ass adventures.

Now if I could just get Abigail on board, I could get back to it.

– b

ps. I’m not talking about racing motorcycles again, but anything like riding a fixie 115 miles should be a lot closer than I’ve been in the last two miserable years.