Weekend Road Trip

For some odd reason I ended up driving over 700miles this past weekend and never left the state.  My first destination was my father’s place in Stockton first.  I then went to my buddy’s wedding in Harvard.  After that I went to my mom’s place in Cherry Valley.  Then to my buddy’s wedding reception and a bar after that.  The next day I drove to Lake In The Hills to have brunch with my Grandma.  My last destination was my apartment back in Normal.

My weekend started early on Friday by picking up the girl I’m seeing and heading up interstate 39.  Talk about a completely boring drive.  Corn fields and never ending flatness, yup, boring.  A couple hours later we reached Rockford and headed west towards Stockton.  Another hour and better scenery later we finally reached my father’s house.  He was out working on his tree house when we arrived.  Which means he would be as hungry as we were, so I drove us all into town to our favorite bar and grabbed some grub.  After we finished we went back to his house and got the tour of his tree house.  Not gonna lie, but the tree house he was building is pretty cool.  Tired from the drive, getting up early and having a full stomach my girl and I took a nap while my dad went back to work.

A couple hours later we were woke up by my father’s wife.  I call her “Mama Sue” because it was a joke before they got married that she would be my mama.  Essentially I am not very fond of her, but I manage for my simplicity sake.  We visit, watch a movie together and then realize we’re all getting hungry again.  My dad has the brilliant idea of going to Poopies.  Poopies is a biker bar, with a restaurant, tattoo parlor, shop, stage outside, AND free camping for bikers.  Poopies isn’t just weird sounding, it really has some delicious food and drinks.  Fat and happy with a couple doggy boxes I drive us home for the night.

The morning came way to early.  We had to be in Harvard, which is a good two hour drive from my father’s place, for my buddy’d wedding.  Eh, too much driving already.  After a decent breakfast we were on the road again.  Eventhough we went right past my mom’s house for the second time, we couldnt stop due to time limitations.  In my mind I mixed up Sharon with  Harvard, but it was ok, both cities are within fifteen minutes of each other.  We arrived at the church with ten minutes to spare, damn.  I say damn because it was a Catholic wedding.  I’m all for “each to their own”, but I really dont like churches and especially dont like Catholic churches.  A quick over view of the wedding;  Sit down, stand up, sit down, stand up, light a candle, camera man eats shit while snapping pics, sit down, say a prayer…. wait when did they get married?  Eh, ok.  I drive us back to my mother’s house because the reception isnt for another two hours.

The reception was actually rather nice.  It was in a old theatre right on the river called The Apollo.  The Apollo was very spacious with more then enough seatting for everyone that showed up, and there was easily over a hundred and fifty people.  It had a bar with a view of the river, which I frequented often during the reception.  In a couple places there were finger foods that included meat, cheese, crackers and hot wings.  Arriving stylishly late, the wedding parties came in on a rock and roll note.   Food was brought in, we pigged out and I visited the bar a couple more times.  While we ate, a video was played with pictures of the two newely weds.  From their childhood all the way up to when they met was put out on public display.  The first dance as a couple, the bride with her father dance, the groom with his mother dance, the dance for this, the dance for that… ok I think I’m done.  Oooo, cake.  You talked me into staying for a little while more. 

After having two delicious helpings of cake I decieded it was time to go to my favorite bar.  Fatty McGee’s on state street in Rockford Illinois was my bar.  We showed up, I walked right in while my friend was being carded, haha.  I seen one of my friends tending tables and asked which ones were hers.  We chose one so I could see the door and everyone in the bar.  She came by and said “this one’s a keeper”, fuck… are you serious?  Lets just hope she didnt hear that and get her some more booze, STAT!  I quickly forgot about what was said because friend after friend streamed through the door.  Hand shakes, a few hugs, and probably too much alcohol later, I needed to call it a night.  In the morning we were going to have brunch with my Grandma in the burbs of Chi-town.  We get home and I’m told that the bruncheon is called off, FML, I could of stayed out even later.  Might as well get some sleep.

The next morning comes with my mom yelling down the stairs at me.  “Are you guys ready to go yet, were leaving in thirty minutes.”  What did I miss?  She then informs me that it was only going to be five of us going and not everyone.  Shit, I can get ready in ten minutes, but my poor girl couldnt get ready in that amount of time.  Guess were coming a little later and I’ll be stuck driving yet again.  No complaints, we arrive early and get tour of my Grandmother’s new house.  Then off to the possibly the best breakfast/brunch/lunch that I ever had.  I ordered a ham and cheese omelette, thinking that it would be more then enough to fill me.  After we all finished ordering we were informed that there was a buffet of food that we could help ourselves to.  Oh did we ever help ourselves.  Fresh fruit, yogurt, crepes, smoked salmon, every type of doughnut you could think of, and anything else a person could dream of.  If I didnt know what it was, I tried it.   Boy o’ boy was I happy I did.   Everything tasted amazing and complimented one taste to another.  Too bad it had to eventually end.

We drove back to my Grandmother’s place and chatted for a long while with my Grandma.  Unfortunelty we really needed to get heading home.  Forty-five minutes later we were at my mom’s place picking up our luggage.  Minutes later we were back on the road to Bloomington/Normal.  Did I mention it was a boring drive?  Well, it is and I made it yet again without a police encounter.  With the way I drive, it still surprises me that I dont have more tickets.  Seeing we made it back in good time and we really didnt get much “alone time”, I suggested going back to my apartment.  She gave me a half grin, half smile and said ”your place first”.  A few hours later I dropped my friend off at her place and then back to mine.  My weekend was offically over.  *sigh*

Are you bloody kidding me?!

This is going to be a small rant and a little rave.  At the begining of the month sum jack ass deceided it was ok to knock over my motorcycle.  Accident or no accident, my baby was left on her side all morning and not picked up by any one.  Thanks people who seen her down, NOT!  Without having frame sliders on my bike to save it from a fall, my plastic and pipe too the brunt of the fall.  This is why I have insurance and at least it was still there.  Having two motorcycles stolen already, this wasnt as bad, or so I thought. 

I called up my insurance person and told them about my situation.  They told me that I couldnt do anything until I signed a waiver stating that I wouldnt let my younger brother drive any of my vehicles.  He had his drivers license suspended for the second time and he’s only 19 years old.  A couple weeks go by and I recieve and send back the paper work.  Those jack asses put the wrong name down.  My brother is a Rogers, not a Thompson.  Being a legal document, it had to have the correct name on it.  I was lucky enough to be in town and was able to get everything straightened away. 

Finally, I’m able to make my claim with the insurance company.  The person on the phone said it was going to be a $500 co-pay and I yelled at him “what? my insurance guy said $250″.  A second later he said “this was a collision right?”.  To which I responded “NO!  it was pushed over, a random act of violence”.  He told me I’m going to have to make a police report to save myself $250.  I told him I would get a police report and asked if he could get things moving on his end.  He said there wouldnt be a problem doing so.  I’ll take any small break I can get at this point. 

The next day I set up an appointment with the Normal P.D. to get a report done.  45min later, I cancel the request and ask if it would be faster if I just came down after class.  They made some bullshit excuse about having to come accross town to get to my apartment.  I told them whatever and that I would stop by after class.  Grr, I hate pigs.  I go to the pig shop after class and I’m in and out in less then 20min.  Go figure, right? 

Now I have my police report and the guy who takes pictures for the insurance company shows up the next day.  Talk about fast and professional service *cough* *cough* police take some notes.  He tells me to go to a shop and get an estimate on how much it would cost to get fixed.  I bring my bike to Sportland and they get it in right away to be checked out.  Motorcycles aren’t like cars, you cant just look at it and estimate a damage cost.  I guess I learned something new.  I call a friend to come pick me up because my bike wont be ready until the earliest tuesday. 

Later that day I get a call from the guy who did the estimate on my bike.  He put the estimate at about $3000, wow… I knew it was going to be expensive, but not that much.  He also informed me that my frame was cracked and I shouldnt ride it until it gets fixed.  Fuck my life!  I guess there was a recall on all 2005-2006 GSXR 1000′s to get their frames re-enforced to prevent this from happening.  Must of forgotten to inform me of it. 

Now its down to waiting.  Waiting for the insurance to send me a check.  Waiting for Suzuki to honor their product and send me a new frame.  Waiting for Sportland to strip down my motorcycle and re-build it on the new frame.  Waiting… waiting… waiting…

Bachelor parties, the good and bad.

This past weekend was my good buddy’s bachelor party.  It started at noon on saturday with a scavenger hunt.  Well, it really wasnt a scavenger hunt, more of a “guys go this way and do what ever”  and the “girls go that way and do what ever”.  The guys had a blast compared to the girls.   We should of started drinking right away, it would of made everything we did a hell of a lot more fun and possibly more interesting. 

We started at a bowling alley and made our way across town.  One of the tasks was to hit as many food joints while getting a picture of the whole group in front of what ever establishment we ended up at for proof.  Burger King with one crown, KFC with a used chicken bucket, McDonalds with a ketchup packet, Culvers with simply a picture and we called it quits.  My buddy, the groom, wanted to go do something fun.  All of us quickly agreed that running around to different food establishments and getting random people to take our picture wasnt as fun as something like go-carts.  Doing the logical thing, we hauled ass to the nearest go-cart track and got tickets. 

Since I had been gone for five years, I really hadnt gotten the chance to visit the new putt-putt, batting cages, and go cart tracks that had sprung up into a complex.  Seeing that we had our tickets and were waiting in line I figured I might as well read the rules.  After all, rules are put in place to be broken, right?  Once I was done reading the rules, I nudged a couple of my friends and nodded toward the sign with a small grin.  They both smiled and tried to guess which ones we would break first and one of them even said “fuck rules”.  I dont know how we managed to do it, but not one of us were kicked out or even stopped.  Even with the intentional “bumping” and police pit manuever on the groom’s go-cart forcing him to face the opposite way on the track.  Where to next?

HOOTERS!  The biggest problem was that both the groom and bride had sworn that they wouldnt go to a strip club or get personal strippers.  So, we went to Hooters, a good “family” restaurant.  I mean, what better place to drag a buddy to.  Its one of the easiest places to embarrasse anyone and we had some good plans to accomplish that.  I’m just happy the waitress that we had was willing and able to play along with everything we did.  My buddy ended up with two ballons that were to resemble boobs, a pen tattoo, some good garb, a fun time.  Especially when he made out with a sexy poster and then again when he had to get up in front of everyone to get a rather funny song sung to him.  I dont remember the whole song, but they said something about “too bad, look at what you could have had” and struck a very enticing pose.  A few good laughs, a couple beers, and a short drive later we were at a costume store.

The whole purpose of the costume store was to get a picture with all of us dressed up as something.  We spread out trying on different masks and costumes until we eventually all came up with something that worked.  There was a Roman soldier with sword and helmet, a body bag with rather large pink sunglasses(I know what you’re thinking, why would a corpse in a body bag be wearing sunglasses), a couple things that I had no clue what they were, and then you had me with a scary clown mask.  Not too interesting, but fun none the least.  We grabbed a couple girls and had them snap a couple quick shots before any of the employees could see what we were doing.  I guess we got lucky because the girl’s group were told to delete the pictures they took and were asked to leave the store.  Next up, Walley world!

Why Wal-Mart you ask?  I say, why the hell not?!?!  We had one specific task to accomplish.  Two of us had to race the electrical shopping carts that are made for the handicapped.  The groom coming from a family of police officers and even being a part-time one himself, did the jack ass thing and asked if we could race the carts.  Of course they were going to say no and my bet is that they were going to be watching our every move inside the store.  Entering the store through one side, we purposely left through the other side in hopes of finding two electric carts.  Being that it was our lucky day, there were two parked against the wall.  The groom jumped on one and tried to get it going, but was out of juice.  Well, there goes our luck… or maybe not?  Outside Wal-Mart, there were three carts lined up and someone said “hey Brad(groom’s brother), jump in”.  We had three people jump into the shopping carts and another three pushing while our seventh person recorded our little race in front of Wal-Mart.  The race was short, sweet and free entertainment for everyone outside.  Though the funniest thing happened when one of our largest friends, Johnny, got stuck in a cart and needed help out.

With the evening running down, we met back up with the girls and went to a local bar.  We exchanged stories and cameras to go through the pictures that had been taken.  It was clear that the girls didnt have a quarter of the fun that the guys did.  That and the girls seemed a little miffed at me about the practical joke we played on them.  One of the things the girls had to do was, go around to local bars and ask for a pink dildo that I had hidden.  They quickly discovered that there was no pink dildo and they were the butt end of a funny joke.  Eh, whatever, it was funny to me.  We spent the next few hours drinking and doing karaoke, or they did.  I’m not a big fan of karaoke, thats why I have a very good sound system in my car, so I cant hear myself when I sing.  11pm came around and the bride and groom were tired and wanted to go back to their place to relax and have pizza.  Wait, what?!?  Bachelor and Bachelorette parties were over just like that, but not my night

Give us some room to play!

I am finding I have same issue in Bloomington/Normal as the one I had in Rockford.  Lots of places to, lots to do, but too many laws.  No speeding, no riding wheelies, no doing endos, no riding on sidewalks, no running from cops, no splitting lanes, no running red lights, no THIS and NO THAT!  With so many laws in place, what is a motorcycle rider to do?  There is a couple tracks that allow motorcycles on certain days, AFTER you take a weekend course that you must pass.  Then there is straight tracks, fun for a whole ten seconds, if not less.  All tracks cost a considerable amount of money and you must have certain gear to ride.  On top of all that, none of them are close by.  With all that said, there still is the factor of other drivers who share the road.  Many times they dont see motorcyclists for one reason or the other and often end up causing a collision.  So where does this leave someone who’s short on money and wants to enjoy life on the back of a motorcycle?  It forces alot of people to break the law in one way or another.  

I propose a quick and easy fix.  One that is so simple it makes me sick that law enforcement agencies dont do this every where.   Shut down a road for a few hours.  Blockade the ends, have police there to monitor it, and let riders have FUN!  Hell, if they have to, write up a disclaimer and even have a ambulance on site.  I guarantee it will be packed with riders and people who simply like to watch. 

Back in Rockford we had nothing but compliments on my riding.  People love to see motorcycles doing things they arent supposed to.  One time ”a friend” rode an endo past a car to a stop light and the car pulled up next to us.  The guy in the car rolled his window down and all I thought was “oh, here we go with the hatin”.  Nope, he told us that his children were thrilled to see him doing his one simple trick.  It was the coolest thing they had seen all day and possibly week.  ”My friend” told him thank you and went on his way.  Another time ”my friend” was lined up with traffic at a stop light.  A guy yelled out his window to do a wheelie.  He looked around and couldnt see any five-O, so at the green light he rolled forward and stood it up.  He rode it all the way to the next stop light where he received a bunch of claps and cheers.  Easily made his day, but could have gone very bad, very fast.  If he had a place to go and ride in a controlled enviroment, I’m positive he wouldnt feel the need to do show off in public.  It’s not terribly hard to let people enjoy themselves.  I dont even want to know how much the government spends on parks.  They should spend just a fraction of that money on keeping stunters safe and give riders a place to ride.

Like, ok, om, yea!

A lot of people in this class are going to be teachers.  Standing in front of anyone and speaking takes confidence.  You cannot pretend you have confidence and show something else, people will see right through you.   Let’s get to the reason why I was giggling like a little school girl in class today.  I was literally counting the times when people said “like” while they were giving their critiques.  I lost count somewhere around 50 and there were plenty more that were used.  If you use the word “like” or “om” excessively it makes me think you don’t have a clue what you are talking about.  It forces me to think that you are timid and unsure of yourself.  If I had a teacher that talked like that I wouldn’t respect them and if possible, I would attempt to switch classes.  Think about what you want to say, vocalize your thoughts, and be confident of what you say.  Habits are hard to break, but if you truly want to be a teacher, this is one of them that must be crushed.

The good, the bad, the fugly…

I have never been fond of going to school.  When I was in grade school I didn’t like going because it felt like I had to do it.  I was never given a choice if I wanted to go or stay home and be home schooled.  At the time I didn’t know I had a choice and it seemed like my entire childhood would be spent in school.  Needless to say, I didn’t like it at all.  I would have preferred to stay at home and play with my toys, but noooo, I had to go to school.  Forced to be around other children, some of who I didn’t like or understand.  I guess I made it through school somehow. 

I remember that I wasn’t good at spelling when I was growing up.  I’m still not the best, thank god for ABC check and Google.  There was one instance where I believe I was in fourth grade.  I had fallen behind on my grades and needed some how to pick it up.  I devised a plan that seemed to work right up until I got caught.  I would cram the first five words into my brain right before the quiz.  I would “put away” my study sheet under my chair so that if I “accidently” dropped my pencil I would be able to see the other few words.  I got caught and my mother had to be called in by my teacher.  That was the first time and last time I would ever cheat on a quiz or test.  I had to come up with a different way to learn the words for the spelling quizzes.  Instead of procrastinating till the night before the quiz, I would start learning the words the day I got them.  It helped and I made it to the next grade.

To this day I am still a super procrastinator.  I will put off things until the last possible minute.  Sometimes in the past it would cost me letter grades on a project.  I can’t think of any specific times where it has been a problem, but I can tell you that I’ve been told more than once that I’m a procrastinator.    I find I do my best work when I sit down and do a project all the way through.  Instead of doing bits and pieces of the project, spaced out over a period of time.  I can normally judge the amount of time and effort a project will take.  That is where I get in trouble.  I put the project on the back burners and wait until I know I have to do it.  I prepare for projects mentally beforehand.   If it is needed, I can get the materials ready for when I need to start.  There is always the problem of forgetting about something or having an emergency come up.  That’s when the allotted time I set aside for myself becomes very short.  I’ve gotten better over the years, but I will always be known as a procrastinator.

I like to dream, but for some odd reason I don’t like to sleep.  I’ve always said “I can sleep when I’m dead”.  That’s not the problem though.  I tend to day dream during a class if I’m not involved or up and moving.  I will miss crucial points that might be on an exam or even miss assignments.  The only other way to keep me focused on the class is to have it be something that I’m interested in.  It needs to be something that I truly care about and want to learn more about.

Something that boggles my mind

Ok, so we are all in college now.  We all had to start at the bottom in grade school and work our way up to middle school.  When we started middle school, we dropped to the bottom again.  A couple years later after we reached the top, yet again, we hit rock bottom in high school.  We then fought our way to the top ranks again in high school.  Not everyone made it though, some chose the easy path out and got their G.E.D.  Others simply quit and chose to join the working force early on in life.  Up until now we all had no choice on our own education.  We had to attend school till the rip old age of 18 or graduate from high school.  Now we all chose to go to college for what ever reason it may be.  Guess what?  We’re all on the bottom again and this time it was our choice.  Here’s where my mind gets boggled.  You are on the bottom yet again and you deceide to wear your high school seniors t-shirt.  Most of the senior t-shirts even have the year you graduated.  I’ve never been fond of being on the bottom of the barrel, especially when certain people look down on others because of their year in school.  So why call more attention to the fact that you are a newbie to college?  It just boggles my mind…

Mah Narrative

I am the eldest of five boys and I have one older sister.  Growing up my brothers always looked up to me as a role model.  I didn’t like being in the spot light and I especially didn’t like the attention my brothers gave me.  All I wanted was to be left alone; I was used to being alone.  It was probably the age gap that caused the most problems.  I was five years older than my next youngest brother, which makes it really easy to tell people how old all my brothers are.  Even if I didn’t want to be their role model, I never really had much of a say to it.  We lived on a farm out in the country and I really didn’t have many friends growing up.  Everything I did always had a pair of eyes watching me, learning from me, and attempting to mimic all I did.  Whether I liked it or not, I helped shape how my younger brothers are today.  I know I wasn’t the best role model they could have had, but it brings me some joy to know that I had such an influence in their lives.  I’m glad they finally found out that they are their own persons and didn’t need to be like big brother.  I guess purberty will do that to you.

Throughout my entire life I’ve always had a problem with authority.  Especially when it came to school teachers.  I never liked being forced to do anything.  If a person can’t make me want to do something, why should I do it?  There is only a couple times I can remember when I actually connected with any of my teachers was when I was in high school.  It was a very small school in a town with about two-thousand people.  The simple fact that it was a smaller community might have allowed me to get to know my teachers better.  Either that or because I was growing older and experiencing more things making me have more in common with my teachers then I did before.  I guess I’ll never really know why I felt more connected with my teachers during high school.  The other time is when I was going to school that had over two-thousand students.  I ran track and my art teach just happened to be my track coach.  Obviously we had a lot in common and had more to talk about.  I took as many art classes as I could because I liked art and my teachers were in a sense, cool.

Easily the biggest influence that shaped my life was some time in the military.  Four years and eight months is a long time to devote to anything, but I’m sure glad I did it.  Boot camp was kind of fun, in a weird family kind of way.  I say that because from the start of boot camp, the Company Commanders were considered the bad guys.  It never mattered what we did, we were always in trouble.  Later on in boot camp we got to see the other side of our Company Commanders, the softer, more human side.  In the end I figured out why they did what they did.  They had to, in order to break us down and build us up into what the Coast Guard needed.  Team players that did what was needed of them by their superiors.  I don’t know anyone else with the day to day dedication that they had for us, kind like mom and dad.  They never gave up on us, even if we had to do the same thing all day to get it right. You know, if my family didn’t come to see me graduate from boot camp, I might have actually missed my Company Commanders.

After making E-3 in the military I was moved up on the A-school list.  E-3 means enlisted grade three, it starts at E-1 and goes up to E-10.  A-school is where I wanted to go to learn how to work on everything related to computers and phones.  I got my orders to A-school the next month, hellz yea!  I’m moved to California with my wife and completed A-school.  While I was there I had the feeling like I was a child and not an adult.  It wasn’t the instructors I had, but it was all the other instructors.  They have a saying in the Coast Guard, “choose your rate, choose your fate”.  I found out that all the instructors were complete assholes because we weren’t in their rate.  We had colored name tags that distinguished what rate we were going.  I came to loath other instructors and to love ours.  Our instructors knew how to play the system and would help us out when they could.  In the end it was all the simple things that made me like some instructors and loath others.  The little things matter more to people then most would like to admit.

When I look back at my life up until now, there have been a lot of things that have affected my life.  Some were drastic and some were simply miniscule.  I realize that everything any one has ever done in my life has made me who I am today.  I embrace the people who made a positive affect on my life and skowl at those who just couldn’t be good human beings.  I know there is so much more to life that can be learned and I keep an open mind to everything.  If by chance that some day I am a teacher, I hope to be able to positively affect all my students.  As for right now in life, I’m absorbing as much as my brain can handle.  I still hate authority, its just been cut down to only the police, even if my sister is one of them.

Class workshop numero uno

In the military I learned very early on not to volunteer for something that was new.  If everyone had to do the same thing anyways, you never wanted to be first or last.  Certain situations had their advantages, but it was a safe bet to keep to those criteria.  When it was asked of us in class who wanted to go first, there was no way my hand would go up.  That way when we had our first sit down to discuss the two student’s writings I could see how it would all work.  I enjoy people watching, its one of the best ways I find things out about people.  I also get to see their mistakes and learn from them for when its my turn to be in the spot light.  Over all it was an enjoyable experience.  Everyone who wanted to say something got their chance to.  Even the people who were normally less social made an effort to share their thoughts on the two student’s pieces of work.  Kudo’s to the whole class and I look forward to more class workshops.

A writer’s inventory

I believe good writing comes from the author’s ability to express what they want.   Through their writings the author should be able to put the reader in a world to imagine, feel, and see what the author is trying to impress on them. 

The way I speak should influence the way I write.  It allows me to make my work unique to not only me, but to the region in which I grew up.  Thats why Americans can appeal to British writings and vise versa due to the fact that they are different because of the way people talk in both regions.  Its not always the case, but does bring a different perspective to the table.

When I read something I would like it to be true, especially in the grammer or statistical aspects.  If its not correct and I know that its not, it makes me stop to think of whats wrong and to find a possible solution.  It can make a easy read that could take a few minutes last longer then it should be.  There is two exceptions that I can think of.  One is when a writer is giving a person’s dialog.  The second is things like www.theonion.com that are meant to be funny.

There is not one true, correct, standard version of written American English.  English in itself has barrowed alot of its words from other cultures.  Making American English the mutt of many languages, especially with new words being created all the time.

The question is “can writing be taught?”.  I cant think of any other way unless a person wants to create their own language.  Everything we know today comes from personal experience or is directly taught to us.  Writing is just one of the things we must be taught.  Anyone who wants to learn can be taught how to properly write and express their thoughts.