You know you are ancient when they call you 'young man'

It is still Winter, groundhog time has two weeks yet and the Equinox is about forty-eight hours beyond that, and when factoring in the coal fired electrical plants and Iranian and North Korean nuclear developments (where ever they are going with that) it could be May before it is sane and safe to ride a motorcycle in the Great Northwest. The weather man has had rain and cool forecast for weeks and has been delivering, so when he said SNOW on Sunday I knew I had to quit listening to him. What happened to the blond bubbly babe that once did the weather, it never mattered what she said, just that she was watchable?

I had my motorcycle in fine form, and they were trying to frighten me into staying in the cage, eating gasoline and soaking in depressing vibes, but I wanted to fly. So looking at the satellite cloud maps I found my day to roll out the Trusty Triumph and did. Temperature is in the forties and going to fifties briefly and that is warm enough. So I rode to work and warmed back up by walking the two miles down to the dock, worked and bought a Ginger Cake from the inmate bakery, went back home on my bike, smiling. For those that ride I can't tell you what it does to one's day when it fits so well (you already know); for those sleeping at the wheel in the cage, listening to Rush Limbaugh or NPR, talking on their cellphone, texting their one and only (and clones), that don't know how and when to shift the gears, add fuel, or call it a day -- y'all will never know.

If your way to work and home isn't an adventure and you are missing everything that you would pay attention to if you were one with your bike going over the same route--well, if that describes you then you will love having the Obama Government Cage take you through life. You don't have to know when to shift gears - the machine will do that for you, it will tell you when it is time to change oil, when your tires are under-inflated, when you are going too fast and losing traction, and remember when all else fails and you are about to crash into that tree because you never did learn how to drive yourself very well - there is the mandatory seatbelt law, speed limits, drunk and drugged driving prohibitions and finally an airbag and crash tests that will keep you safe and alive until the rescue folks show up to cut you free.

Oh, and aside from the days it is too cold and too wet, I will smile on my motorcycle rides - and they are so much cheaper per mile than the Obama Cage rides y'all will be taking - but then I have almost two years and 14,000 miles on this motorcycle. God must love me.

How one looks at things, does matter...

I have high blood pressure, and other problems with working with those that don't. I focus and destroy the current task and don't get between me and final victory, or I will wish I had brought something deadlier than my sour disposition to the danger area. There are many reasons they frown on my carrying a weapon at work - it seems to be a target rich environment and they know it.

I was visiting with Frank W. James and he mentioned the Seasonally Adjusted Disorder, anyone that has Wintered in Washington State knows that Gray Wet Misery is our definition of Hawaii, since that is all those fair islands send our way December through April. So after the white snows of Christmas, which stayed too long for politicians to escape the wrath of stranded voters, but made the ski areas fun, we got our Pineapple Express - warmer moist air, unloading rains in feet instead of inches. Day after day, drops in all shapes, sizes, patterns and effects on our lives beyond wet. Sure there was wind, howling, tossing waves, ferries and floating docks, tearing hats off and hairdos undone... lovely weather for snuggling up around a fire place and calling in sick. But the Governor says the State has no money, and we have a mission so we go to work.

Being old and wretched I sit alone inside myself on the ferry and no one notices, my laughing inside - for I often do. This particular morning was really rough, lots of rains, surging waves beating on the tossing dock, going down the long gangplank to the dock and then up the short one were an adventure most wanted to finish too soon, the wet weather gear was wrapped tight, the cord pulling hood flat around the head and very little flesh exposed to the salt water. So as a lady sits beside me and starts to unwrap I make a polite comment and a conversation starts (this is not normal Earl conduct - yes, she was a redhead). We jump right to her problem with a lose crown, temporary repair, future root canal (she is mature and has no problem with exposing imperfections) and I mention that I know she is happy she lives in America where she can get excellent dental care, even if they don't do it exactly right the first time. She agrees, and I go on to illustrate that how we look things does matter. She bites, and wants to know more.

So I kind of nod to the beaten looking people staggering on to the ferry through the fury, and I say 'smile', just look at them and smile. She does and I do and in the instant the feet are firmly on the deck, and as the eyes look our way the people smile back. They are victorious, on their way to the warmth inside and there are a couple of people smiling - things have to be getting better. We must have greeted the next forty folks that way, and I talked about the power of smiles, the first thing babies control that affects other humans (positively) around them, smiles. Good start to the morning for many those quick steps onto the boat with a positive greeting. The rest of my day was high speed and low drag -- how one looks at things does matter.

Ah, a day without real rain, quick get the bike out...

Yes, I did, grabbed the motorcycle boots and threw them on, opened the garage door and looked at that dry pavement - in the dawn's early light (yeah, PST!) and rolled the trusty Triumph out to idle waiting for me. I forgot a ballcap, and no matter how warm those gauntlets are, the wind chill from riding fingers folded forward, means frozen fingers! Did I mention Global Warming isn't really happening here? not today, Mount Rainer has a foot or more of new snow from the Pacific. When I had finished my 'to work' ride I stomped into the Depot and declared "So bold the fool with frozen fingers!" Warmed up a bit and walked down to the dock - slower pace and the cold doesn't get an assist from the speed of Earl walking. The ride back in the evening was better, the day was warmer, but I want to know why all those other folks are on the road all around me - don't they have somewhere else to be? So I got two rides in today, twenty-six smiling miles and laughing at the really good parts - and only thirteen colder than a well digger's ... whatever.

Commuting

Just another day, I decide the weather man doesn't know what he is talking about, he has lied to me before, so I take the motorcycle out to ride to work. I have the rain jacket on, and leave off the pants. Ah, a mile from home the skies beat water upon fools, and I am, wet from jacket to toes and heels. Ah, the ride is great, in the dark and the totally wet, large puddles hiding pot holes, and adventure with the four wheeled folks on cell phones or with attitudes. It is never bad enough to stop and go home and more adventure waits just around the next corner, lay it over and roll on the throttle. One wet puppy reports into the depot after parking the bike, well, a damp ol' hound. I will dry out, and I notice the tide is especially high this morning as we load the ferries, I opt for sitting in front of the heater and steaming a bit. Inside the library I call Tacoma Public Library and find I have an interview for a position. I have one inmate with flu and one having interviews for housing in another state, our prison population overflows so we rent services and space. We knock out overdue notices, restrict patrons with over three weeks worth, do ILLs and fix the almost brand new Book Return box. The patrons are noisier than usual, the Sound is cold and wet, ravens pretend they can soar like the eagles and seagulls, but they can't. My boss is watching as she works and tells me a couple of things to correct, we have lunch together and I talk about other things and the Spanish collection and how the Germans do so well in a country we (and our allies) destroyed so well in the War. Finally it is time to go home, the library has been well used. I think, since the rains have almost stopped that I might get home without getting soaked, but then realize it is waiting for me. I get on the ferry and take a seat and plan the return home. Suddenly, after riding these boats for almost nine and a half years, someone spots an Orca in the water (WOW!!!) the normal tourist attraction pods are up North above Seattle and below Vancouver, BC. This is too cool and getting a glimpse of the large fin coming up and cutting back down is great, something to write home about. Then we get cast off and start across the water and the rains start to come down harder, yep. It was waiting for me, I get dressed in rain gear in the depot and ride home, much better prepared for the water and only my boots and socks will be soaked, since I have a hot dinner with a spicy noodle soup waiting my day is perfect. Tomorrow the minivan, the weather man says it will get drier after the Seahawks play Greenbay Saturday, but he has been wrong before.