Thanksgiving's Toll on Turkeys

Manly men doing manly things

This month is the fortieth anniversary of the publication of James Dickey's book "Deliverance". A book that explores men challenging themselves both physically and mentally. Then of course they encounter the darkness of other men and discover the depths of their own baser nature. Men traveling into the wild has become well covered in the nonfiction market with books such as "Into Thin Air" by Jon Krakauer or "A Perfect Storm" by Sebastian Junger however, in fiction this type of tale has gone out of fashion. The road map to manhood seems to somehow have become lost today.
I am happy to see that being a man no longer seems to require the clubbing to death of another man or the destruction of some beautiful part of nature but then I never believed that these things were the mark of a man. Something is missing though and I believe a part of what is missing is an exceptance of the dark, violent, nature in the recesses of each of our being. There is also missing the love of the natural enviroment and the sublime beauty found in art, music, creation. Men are a wild combination of destruction and creation but both sides of that nature seem to be derided today. A man needs to explore and understand all aspects of his nature to truly be complete and many men seem to be missing that oppurtunity today.







Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Nez-Perces war club courtesy of the United States Federal Goveremnt, Nec-Perces National Historic Park, Wikicommons - Public Domain

The Power of a Word

I rarely consider the power of a single words but recently I was reminded how powerful an impact they can make. Consider the simple utterance "please". Context is everything and "please" in context can be joyful, painful, humiliating, laughable and a myriad of other possibilities. A single word spoken with conviction in the right circumstance can bring you to your knees, lift your heart to the heavens or leave you breathless with anticipation. A single word whispered can make your heart beat faster and shouted can bring you to your feet. A single word can be the difference between success and failure, hope and despair, life and death. A single world can change everything. A single word recently changed everything for me. Three letters, one syllable, simple but so very powerful. She said, "yes".




Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved

The pleasures of moonlight

Last night I saw the moonlight. It danced over the beautiful landscape and the images still lingers in my mind.The way the light played over the landscape was mesmerizing. Shadows of complete blackness, highlights of stark, beautiful white and the dappled effect as the two met echo even now hours later. The colors were muted and few but that didn't matter because somehow the textures seemed more intense. Edges seemed as sharp as daggers and when the clouds obscured the light everything became softly rounded and out of focus like an impressionistic painting. It is an endless fascination that I come back to explore again and again. The night falls and the moon shines and another world awaits. I await for the evening to come.







Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Clifton Suspension Bridge with a full moon in the background photo courtesy of Wikicommons - Cako

Happy to be back

After many work and personal interruptions blogging will resume. Thoughts and musings on motorcycles, film, traffic, asshattery and other compelling topics will follow at a more frequent pace. No guarantees either explicit or implied are offered on the quality of these future post. Future comments coming soon.


Rubber Ducky Photo and Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved

11,000 times a minute

Eleven thousand times a minute the crank goes around and around. Eleven thousand times a minute the pistons go up and down. Suck, squeeze, bang, blow is the sequence that makes the Blue Meanie go. A gasp of air comes in and goes out. Over and over again the process repeats itself. Almost three thousand liters of air and a few drops of fuel mixed to perfection and used all up. Every minute this goes on as I ride past the people in their wheeled boxes. I hear the sound of the wind, feel the warmth of the sun, smell the tortillas cooking at the bakery. There is no radio, no cell phone calls, nothing to distract me from the world around me. There is speed and motion, sunlight and warmth. I feel the pitch, yaw and roll and I am focused. I am focused on the imminent dangers and the unparalleled pleasures around me. Eleven thousand times a minute the crank goes around as I ride.


Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Crankshaft photo courtesy of Wikicommons - Alex Kovach

A Curious Encounter

This morning as I rode the big Blue Meanie to work I had something occur which I have heard about but until that moment had never encountered myself. As I pulled onto the main street that leads to the on ramp of the interstate I saw a Japanese cruiser in front of me. I pulled up next to the bike and saw that the rider was a mid fifties grey bearded guy who proceeded to pointedly ignore me. Usually when I pull up next to someone on another two wheeler there is an acknowledgement of some fashion.From a simple head nod to a conversation about each others bikes I have always had a cordial interaction. It doesn't seem to matter what either of us is riding we understand that the other person knows what it is like to catch a bug in the teeth and taste that gooey, vegetale taste. We have both had a cell phone talking box driver drift over into our lane and had a fender close enough to polish if we wanted to reach out and do so. We both know that without a jacket rain at fifty miles an hour hurts and that gravel is a poor substitute for asphalt to fill potholes. Perhaps the rider I was along side today had a bad morning. Perhaps he was lost in thought or perhaps he was just anti-social. I'll never know but it was the first time a fellow two wheeler chose to respond in such a way. Then again maybe it was my cologne.



Text © Crownedstoat – All rights reserved
Harley riders on I4 photo courtesy of Wikicommons - Ian Griffiths