kublakhan: (Default)
got a present in the mail today. A little something I ordered onlinewhen the weather turned cold. A fog shield for my motorcycle helmet.

"Motorcycle?" you say. "Isn't too cold to ride a motorcycle?!?" Yes, it is. Exposed skin in mid-30's temps at highway speeds HURTS from the cold. However, that's not going to stop me.

I love to ride and, as long as there's no snow, rain or sand on the roads, I'm riding. Sure, getting ready for work is a 10-15 minute ritual to make sure I'm covering every square inch of skin that might get exposed to the wind but when I'm out on the road with the wind buffeting my body, I feel free. Plus, my small bike gets me in and out of traffic a lot easier than my car ever could.

Problem is that when it gets this cold (mid-20s to 30s), my breath on the inside of my helmet would fog up the shield making it hard to see. I could raise the shield and let in some fresh air but that gets real cold REAL quick. That's where the shield comes in. I can huff and puff 'til I'm blue in the face and it'll never fog.

So, until it starts snowing and/or they put down sand, it's time to gear up and ride.
kublakhan: (Default)
Had a chat with my sis. While she didn't come right out and say it, I think the impression I got this past weekend was due to her being quite upset at being in the middle of the two warring factions. In truth, I can't blame her. She's watched both of us act like spoiled brats and thinks we both need a swift kick to the head. I wish I could find a way to extricate her from all of this but, for better or worse, this war-torn battleground is all we have left of our family.

We visited my parents grave and my grandmother just before we left Kansas. Those visits made me realize something: my family is dwindling. I don't have a mother or father, both my grandfather's are dead as is my dad's mom. My grandmother is mute and, if it weren't for the fact her eyes seemed to brighten when Celia sang to her, she's all but dead. Of my relatives, I can count on one hand who I have regular contact; two if you want to include the various uncles, aunts and cousins inhabiting Wichita.

I still have friends and I still believe my friends are my family but that blood tie -- that quintessential thing that binds us to each other whether we like it or not -- is lacking. And when push comes to shove, the blood relatives are the ones who define my past and influence my future. And most of them are dead or dying.

I told my sister to give my nieces a hug and a kiss from me. I wish I could have given it to them myself. Showed them how much they -- part of my ever-shrinking family -- mean to me.

Blood is thicker than water. Calm waters run deep.
There's something there -- I can almost taste it -- but then it's gone.
kublakhan: (Default)
In 1994, I was driving through Des Moines when the first snow storm of the year hit. My car ended up in the middle of the highway stuck in the wet grass and snow. After getting a few doors slammed in my face and waiting for a tow truck to come, a woman in a sports car stopped and offered to take me somewhere warmer to wait. After running a couple of errands she dropped me off at a nearby gas station where I began my three hour wait for a truck to rescue me and my car.

Tonight, while I was driving home, I saw a silouette of a man frantically waving by the side of a near-dead car on the side of the road. I don't recall thinking that I should stop but I found myself stopped then backing up at the side of the road not 50 feet from his car. He asked to use my cell phone and I told him to hop in so I could take him to the gas station up the road. He gave his service more information than I've provided my bank to open an account but, after a few minutes, he said they'd be there in 30 minutes to pick him up and rescue his car.

I never knew the name of my savior that evening and Troy he never asked (and I never offered) mine. But I hope that in the years to come, he'll think fondly of that nice stranger who decided to take a break from their busy schedule and help out someone in need just like I think of that woman who helped me.
kublakhan: (Default)
One of my co-workers heard that one of the local weather newscasters is saying this is the most snow Iowa has gotten in a 24 hour period in 50 years. Estimated 8 to 12 inches of snow state wide by tomorrow morning with lots of blowing and drifting. Yet somehow, I'm disappointed.

I grew up in Colorado Springs at the foot of Pikes Peak. Winter snowfall was a regular occurance and 8 inches of snow was, most years, fairly common. I can't count the number of times I'd look out the window into the 3-4 foot piles of snow blocking our driveway and begrudging the fact that school was still open. It was rumored that the only time school would be closed is if the district superintendant couldn't make in into the office and he had a 4x4.

I remember my mother driving white-knuckled from Denver back to the Springs not because the roads were slick but because the snowfall was so heavy it was obscuring her vision (you literally could not see past the windshield). I remember walking out into the backyard and wondering where all the fences had gone because everything under 5 feet high had been covered in snow. I remember digging snow caves with the ceilings so high that I could stand up

But the one winter snow storm memory that stand out the most is listening to the radio one afternoon hearing the Colorado Springs police warning motorists that any driver caught out on the roads without both a four-wheel-drive vehicle and chains would be arrested and their vehicle impounded. A vehicle with anything less was, because of the intesity ofhte snowfall, a road hazzard. I ran to the window and looked out to a 7 foot drift and the flashing light of a snow plow trying quite in vain to keep the roads clear. I heard that that same truck (or another similar plow truck) later got stuck in a drift of it's own making down the block. The next morning, the snowfall had stopped but no one was going anywhere. Some people had to dig themselves out of their houses because all the exterior doors had been drifted in.

And, for once, school was cancelled.

kublakhan: (Default)
Every year in Colorado Springs, a group of people would hike to the summit of Pikes Peak and set off fireworks in honor of the new year. Some years the cloud cover would prevent anyone from seeing them but most years we'd look up at the dark silouette of the Peak and see the brilliant oranges and reds of the exploding fireworks. It was a far better viewing than staring at the TV watching Dick Clark try to sound like he was in touch with the youth of today as the new year arrived.

Today I'm sitting in my living room listening to my hamster run in her wheel and watching a movie. Somehow, I feel the same joy and excitement I do tonight as I did those many years ago. The feeling that a new page is being turned, one that will be filled with exitement and challenges that will define who I am and influence me for the years to come. For the first time in a long time, I am genuinely looking forward to the coming year and what it will bring.

There won't' be any fireworks or the dark silouette of Pikes Peak. My new year will be welcomed by the glow of my laptop screen, the sound of a hamster's wheel and a kiss from the woman I love. It will still be just as moving and meaningful.

Happy New Year, everyone. May the sun always shine on your face and the wind always at your back.
kublakhan: (Default)
Shortly after I graduated from college, I was living in an apartment just off the main through town (two lane, small road but semi's still went through on a regular basis). The girls in the apartment were friends of mine so we would occasionally get together to help each other pass the time.

One day it was raining cats and dogs. I got completely soaked just dashing from my door to theirs (about 10 feet of open air). When I came in grinning from ear to ear and dripping water on the carpet, everyone got the same idea that i already had; let's go out and get totally soaked.

As luck would have it, the rain petered down a bit so we were only getting wet instead of soaked. So we decided the only way to get soaked was to convince a car to splash us by driving through the runoff by the curb. There we were, standing on the curb, waving and screaming to have someone splash the bejeebus out of us. Car after car drove by, the drivers honking and waving, but no one drove close enough to really splash us.

Just as we were about to give up, a semi came over the hill. We screamed, pointed to the pool of water in front of us, waved madly, anything to get the drivers attention. And as he came upon us, his horn blew loud and clear as he veered toward the curb.

We screamed in glee as a wall of water slammed into us. by the time our vision returned, the semi was gone and every one of us were totally soaked and dripping. And grinning from ear to ear. Then we all padded back to out respective apartments to dry off and change clothes.

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