My First Motorcycle

I bought my first motorcycle at a yard sale in seattle. I didn't know anything about it and neither did the seller. It is a Motorcycle! Agreed! I'll take it! It was a 1973 Hondo CB350F in excellent ocndition. That F apparently was very important. The standard CB350 only had two tailpipes but the cb350F had four. This drove men crazy. At least once a week for the three years I rode that bike, I would be flagged down by men who wanted to talk about it. When the time came to sell the bike, the first response to my ad was from a small motorcycle museum in a distant suburb. I rode thereon a sunny saturday. Perfect weather, no traffic, the kind of ride that lessens gravity for an hour or two. In some ways I was the exact wrong owner for that bike- I certian'y didn't appreciate it like the collectors did.But maybe it wasn't about me at all- maybe I was just the chaperone. The necessarily-clueless facilitator of the bike's wild rumspringa.


No one asks to be born. Live your life. This is your skin.

Lab Rat

You'll feed the animals a substance you can't yet call "remedy" or "poison"

A Comic Year

There was a period about three years ago where I cried pretty often. I wasn't sad. In fact, I was my most happy. It was almost daily over podcasts, good stories, a full moon; my heart was open. I felt it all. Then I fell in love with Sam and hardly ever cried.