Sooo. Now we are confined to prevent getting the corona virus. Wearing a mask & gloves to go to the grocery store. It's been two months, now. And I'm in the high risk group; 81 with asthma. I'm not sure why I bother to post here; nobody ever comments, so it must not be read very often. At least I can still ride the Harley to breakfast once a week. We go to a little bakery in Bangor (Calif), get apple turnovers, and take them to a park to eat. The restroom is still open, and nobody has stolen the toilet paper, yet. The freedom on the ride is stress relieving. Maybe there will be a vaccine soon.

It's late, and I'm tired. Getting old ain't fer sissies, I've been told. I am becoming a believer. Still, it beats the alternative. At this point, I get introspective on my core beliefs. I have always thought we are all spiritual beings, having a human experience; that death is part of life, and we move on after we die. Death is not something to look forward to; neither is it to be feared. Life is a learning curve. We make mistakes, learn, do better. I did not expect to live this long, so I must still have more to learn. I believe in God. I pray. If He grades on the curve, I will not be doomed to Damnation, as I feared on reaching puberty. Are we born with both good and evil? Does love help the good to win out? Love can hurt more than bullets. Making other people happy is just part of love; making yourself lovable is important, loving yourself for who you are, or who you become is perhaps the hardest challenge of all. Every day is a gift. Be kind to the cat, and the people in your life.

Memories, and sadness.

I was 79 this last April. I'm still riding the '05 V-Rod I bought in 2006. It had 2,100 miles on it then, and it has 36K+ on it now. I love this bike. I rode it back to the rally at the Kansas City assembly plant in September 2008. We had a reunion of V-Rod owners, and got a full tour of the plant. I even got to meet one of the guys who hand built my CVO bike. The reason I rode the V-Rod, instead of my much more comfortable Road King, is that we were going to do a large group V shaped picture of about sixty Rods at the rally. It never happened. We had heavy rains from the aftermath of hurricane Ike. So the picture got cancelled. My plans to ride on up to Milwaukee to see the newly opened Harley museum also changed. Instead, I headed home, by way of the Black Hills, and Mount Rushmore. I got V-Rod saddle bags for the trip, then sold them on eBay after I got home. I kinda wish I still had them. I did carry an extra two and a half gallon gas can strapped on behind, which I desperately needed a couple times, since I favored the road less traveled. I did have a GPS, which got me pleasantly lost more than once. Other than getting soaked, it was a good 3,500 mile road trip. I travel well by myself, but prefer not to anymore as I have gotten older.
        Riding a motorcycle provides a sense of freedom nothing else can touch. People who don't ride will never know, or understand this, and it is pointless to try to explain it.
        My good friend has finally had to give it up. He is only a couple years older than me; too ill to ride anymore. He does not complain. I understand the look in his eyes, when he asks me to help him sell his bike. He watches as I change his battery for him. It is resignation, silent, painful. It is time. So soon, it is time.

I haven't posted on this site in a long time. A lot has happened in the last few years. Our 18 year old cat, Shadow, died last March 20. She was mostly Burmese, and made a cat lover out of us both. We miss her; she was our first ever cat. She had a good life. She came to us dying, broken foot, crooked head, and full of ear mites, maybe five or six months old, and a skeletal two pounds.
I was allergic. She went from a box on the front porch, to the garage. to "just in the laundry room", to our laps, into our hearts. I got over the allergy. We treated the ear mites. Her foot healed, and in time her head got straight, so she no longer spiraled to one side when she jumped down. Her coat got shiny. She grew to almost ten pounds of sleek, beautiful grace. Life was good.

I never knew just how much you could come to love a cat. I do now.

Where does the time go? It has been four years since I posted here. Where did "Capt.Gampa" come from? Well, that was the name of my boat, a little 16' C-Dory that I bought before I retired. I ocean fished it for a few years. It was nice and dry, but rocked badly even on calm days; it was just too short.

Civil War Model cannon 1:8 scale

I built this over the Winter in my cold garage. It took a couple months, but it was a fun project. I might make another one this Winter. It is .50 caliber, shoots black powder.
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos?tab=wq#photos/104255192032225050465/albums/5692435816659276849

The link covers the whole build process. Enjoy.

Coin Hunting 101, a primer for novices