Less About the Riding
Thursday, May 3, 2007
So you probably all know by now that the first Thursday of the month means another Cruiser Club Meeting. For those of you who just want to hear about the riding, here it goes. I arrived home, hopped on the bike, and took off west on East Washington Street into, and through downtown. I took Holt Road north to 16th, and then 16th further west to High School Road. I was second to arrive at McGilvery's, just behind Mr. Wade.
After the meeting, I headed out north on High School Road to 38th Street. Heading east on 38th street leads me to I-65 and then I-70. I get off of I-70 at 465 on the east side of town, heading south until the Washington Street exit.
Now, on to something else. I wasn't on the bike, or at home early this day, I was in Nashville , Tennessee. I was at the funeral for a friend of mines mother. This is one of my friends that I have had since High School. Many of my friends I have known for years, even decades, and this friend is no exception, 22 years to my recollection. Out of that circle of friends, he is the first to loose a parent.
Since my parents are still alive, I have no way of understanding the loss that my friend has experienced. I knew his mother, even though I hadn't seen her for a while, but she and where adversaries of sort. We enjoyed gently prodding each other. When someone like that passes, it bring back memories. I always choose to remember the times that the person made me laugh. It might sound insensitive, but I would rather crack jokes, and tell the funny stories, and try to make others smile, or even laugh. I guess I believe it should be a celebration, and the time to mourn should be a personal time, just among the family.
Jacqi, was her name, but of course I always called Mrs. Cameli, or when I was still in High School, Mom. We all called each other parents mom and dad! We all had lots of parents, and they had lots of kids!!
Back to our relationship, my favorite story was back when I was probably 17. I pulled up in my friend's driveway, and his mom was washing their 1969 Mustang Convertible. It was a warm day, and the windows were down on my 1972 Mustang, and the radio blaring. I shut off the engine, and yelled, "Hey! How much to do mine next?" She looked up at me with the rolling of her eyes she had sent me a lot of times before, and then flipped me the bird. I had opened the car door, and was climbing out of the car. "That's a fair price!" I replied. We always tried to one up each other, and I sure the score wound up pretty close to even! She just gave me that point, and aimed the hose at me.
I am sorry that I was not able to see her again in the last few years. And always, you never take the chance to tell someone, who may not know it, what they mean to you. As I watched my friend and his wife, another friend from High School, cry over her casket, the pain was from watching them in pain. I choose to celebrate. As at sat in the service, every once in a while cracking a smile, I realized something: If I Stop Laughing, I Will Die.
So you probably all know by now that the first Thursday of the month means another Cruiser Club Meeting. For those of you who just want to hear about the riding, here it goes. I arrived home, hopped on the bike, and took off west on East Washington Street into, and through downtown. I took Holt Road north to 16th, and then 16th further west to High School Road. I was second to arrive at McGilvery's, just behind Mr. Wade.
After the meeting, I headed out north on High School Road to 38th Street. Heading east on 38th street leads me to I-65 and then I-70. I get off of I-70 at 465 on the east side of town, heading south until the Washington Street exit.
Now, on to something else. I wasn't on the bike, or at home early this day, I was in Nashville , Tennessee. I was at the funeral for a friend of mines mother. This is one of my friends that I have had since High School. Many of my friends I have known for years, even decades, and this friend is no exception, 22 years to my recollection. Out of that circle of friends, he is the first to loose a parent.
Since my parents are still alive, I have no way of understanding the loss that my friend has experienced. I knew his mother, even though I hadn't seen her for a while, but she and where adversaries of sort. We enjoyed gently prodding each other. When someone like that passes, it bring back memories. I always choose to remember the times that the person made me laugh. It might sound insensitive, but I would rather crack jokes, and tell the funny stories, and try to make others smile, or even laugh. I guess I believe it should be a celebration, and the time to mourn should be a personal time, just among the family.
Jacqi, was her name, but of course I always called Mrs. Cameli, or when I was still in High School, Mom. We all called each other parents mom and dad! We all had lots of parents, and they had lots of kids!!
Back to our relationship, my favorite story was back when I was probably 17. I pulled up in my friend's driveway, and his mom was washing their 1969 Mustang Convertible. It was a warm day, and the windows were down on my 1972 Mustang, and the radio blaring. I shut off the engine, and yelled, "Hey! How much to do mine next?" She looked up at me with the rolling of her eyes she had sent me a lot of times before, and then flipped me the bird. I had opened the car door, and was climbing out of the car. "That's a fair price!" I replied. We always tried to one up each other, and I sure the score wound up pretty close to even! She just gave me that point, and aimed the hose at me.
I am sorry that I was not able to see her again in the last few years. And always, you never take the chance to tell someone, who may not know it, what they mean to you. As I watched my friend and his wife, another friend from High School, cry over her casket, the pain was from watching them in pain. I choose to celebrate. As at sat in the service, every once in a while cracking a smile, I realized something: If I Stop Laughing, I Will Die.
Comments
What I found was just as meaningful. I found my friend, a true friend. As he said we've been friends for ever and a day. He and another friend were there for me and my family when we needed them most.
I was touched by the way only Rodney could remember Ma, with a smile an sharp whit. What he doesn't know is how much she thought of him. She was a tough nut to crack and there were few of my friends that she thought highly of and he is one of them.
Thank Rappin for remembering Ma.
God Bless,
J-bird
Rodney