Be Careful Of What You Wish For...

I sit here of a Friday nite, a tot of the Captain's in me, and a few good cold Molson Canadian's backs, and contemplate the state of things. It has been a very busy week, but I am getting my life back, mainly through asserting control and putting my tired old foot down...

Rosie is doing well with Bella Grande. It is very successful, and she is making money beyond her expectations. I have been supportive, even to the point of lettting my own work go. It has been her dream - a dream of ridding herself of corporate America, of being her own boss, setting her own hours, and forsaking the commute.

Yet today, after a very busy day, she is wishing for the "84 dollar day." She has gone far enough to coin the phrase, and I find it typical of "be careful of what you wish for."

Bella Grande is wildly successful. It is making good money, getting repeat customers, and is busy all day long. It is not a "hobby" as I think my Rosie would wish it to be. It is a thriving business in a community that is economically underdeveloped and needs the kind of service she provides. And for this she should be thankful.

Rosie, at 56 years of age, is as hedonistic as the old Coon. She likes her food, a bit of booze each night, and the fact she sets her own hours now. But she is already bitching about making too much money.

Be careful of what you wish for, my friends...

Drive on...

Charlie~

The Gasoline Wars

Sometimes it is tough being an American. I worry much about the current administration and where it is headed in the way of things. Last I knew, Dubya had a 32% approval rating. Man, what a legacy he is gonna leave!

Gas here in mid Michigan has hit 3 bucks a gallon off and on this last month. It is so bad that Rosie has hired a gal to work in the brick & mortar just for gas money. My son in law spends 70 bucks to fill up the tank on his Suburban, and he is on the road a great deal with the grandkids and soccer and baseball tournaments, and it is a strain even to him. Jason is a master electrician, and makes the big bucks, but my daughter works to maintain their lifestyle. It is not a good situation for everyone in this country...

It has finally happened. Rosie and I save enough in gas now to make the payments on the new building. We rode into Menard's this week, and Rosie was amazed to know that the price gas was at reminded me that when I was in my youth, learning to drive, I could buy 24 gallons of gas for the price of one today...

I have signed petitions put out by Granholm and company, and am doing my part by walking everywhere I need to go in town. I refuse to buy gas from Exxon-Mobile, because they are bleeding this country dry. When I read of gross profits of 13.6 billion for a quarter, I have to remind myself we have an oilman in the White House, and the only way to change it is to remove this miserable failure from office come election day.

Don't get me wrong. I am a patriot, and a decorated Viet Nam veteran. But my wife and I are feeling held hostage because we can no longer afford to make road trips just to see the countryside like we used to, and we make fairly decent money. Reports say any change will be in coming decades, and that oil will hit 100 bucks a barrel.

How sad...

Peace,

Charlie~

Living In The Fast Lane

I, of course, am a lucky old fool to be alive. Here I sit, of a early morn in April, looking out at a rainy night sky. It is 1:25 AM, and the wise and gentle are in bed. I think oft-times of my life and times, and wonder at the fact I am amongst the living.

For years, I rode a fast-assed Harley, stayed drunk for days, and did my share of drugs. I raised a lot of hell, stayed out too late on a work night because I couldn't bear the thoughts of leaving my friends in the bar, and woke to a bottle of Jim Beam to get my day going. I lived this way for years, and stayed the course...

Now, of course, I am 62 years of age, and don't own a Harley any longer. But, there is a Triumph Bonneville in my garage that is faster than a striped ass ape, I have my times, and life is good. I wanna come sliding up to my grave, do a decent brody, and have a beer in one hand and a sweet redhead on the bitch pad, and say, "Whaddafuck, man! What a ride!"

Drive on,

Charlie~

On Growing Old

A lot of the time I tend to bitch about things that are not right in my life.

Seems sometimes things are never right, and it is frustrating.

My life is a simple one. As a Buddhist, I need little. The things I do need are intangible, and not things one can own. Like respect, being treated wiht dignity, and being loved by another. Little things. Stevie Ray said it all - "the simple things in life bring the greatest pleasure." My, what insight from a guitar pickin' fool like SRV with all of life's little hangups!

Surely, it is easier than that. Life has been good to me, most of the time. I try to keep a low profile, like my occasional glass of rum and a good cigar, and love to be around those that love me, as long as the group isn't real large. Sorry folks, the Nam did that to me...

So, my Rosie finds fault with me on occasion. I am, after all, a bit of a queer duck. Like the fact that I tend to look inward, and am a very private person. We are at odds right now. The stress of opening her new business is telling on the old girl. And of course I am the butt of her issues.

So I find myself at odds with the world, and wish to spend the rest of my days meditating in a cave in Tibet. Gee. Sometimes even I realize my shit ain't right...

Drive on...

Charlie~

I Bitched Because I Had No Shoes...

My Rosie calls me a curmudgeon. I suppose I am. I like to bitch a lot, especially when things are not right in my world.

I have my share of aches and pains, but get around pretty good most of the time. But being 62, I find my age creeping up on me, and this year decided to sell the motorcycles. I own a sharp 2003 Triumph Bonneville American, and Rosie has a 2004 Kawasaki Vulcan 800. We love the bikes, but hardly ride them any more. Other interests and time are always getting in the way.

I have convinced myself that I am just getting to old to ride - at least until yesterday.

We had advertised the bikes for sale when we made the move to our brick & mortar, mainly because we are launching 2 new businesses, and are very short on time mostly. So, on Monday we received a call from a gentleman wanting to buy the Kawasaki. We gave him our address and expected him in 10 minutes.

Much to my surprise, a sharp new Lincoln Town Car drove up, the guy driving stuck a handicapped sticker in the windshield, and got out of the Lincoln. I didn't pay much attention, so when he arrived at my garage door, I was greatly surprised.

Bud Tinkey is 81 years old, had a hell of a time swinging his leg over the Kaw, and left soon after. I stood there stunned with a check for the full amount in my hand.

And I bitch because of my aches and pains? I am feeling a bit more humble today...

Drive on...

Charlie~

Google It...

I just checked the stats on MSN. Gee, the old fart is doing pretty good, holding top spots in that particular SE. I owe it to Google, and to Blogger, methinks...

I have a very good strategy for creating not only interest, but decent traffic. Learned a bit here, learned a bit there.

What it amounts to is passive income. I do not wish my Rosie to be reliant on others when I pass the veil. So, I work hard, love my life, and do the things necessary to insure a good rebirth.

Rebirth, ya say? Yup. Been walking the Noble 8 Folded Path for a good while, and am convinced that the Buddha knew what he was talking about. One only has to observe the look of serenity on HH's face to know of what I speak....

Peace,

Charlie~

Sunday morning coming down

Johnnie Cash sang the song. It fits me. I spent the day hauling lumber for Rosie's store. What a drag for me!

I managed to bark my right shin on my buddies trailer hitch twice today, and come home to an immeasureable amount of pain and a cupboard of Captain's and a fridge of RR. I indulged, and slept the afternoon away until almost 10 PM...

So now, I sit here, checking stats and writing articles at 2 AM on a Monday, and wonder how I will face the new day...

Drive on...

Charlie~

I love old things. I suppose it is becuz I am old! I was born between dirt and baseball, my friends.

Here is an image of the wall of my apartment. I live in a 110 year old livery stable. I would have it no other way, ya know?

Life here is good. I approach the end of days, and have no regrets. I am loved, cared for, and my life is at it should be.

What more do we need than that?

Peace,

Charlie~