Uneasy Rider Finale And More

It's been two weeks since I finished the Motorcycle Rider's Training Program. Some of you might have wondered what happened. Some of you probably figured that since I hadn't posted anything I either failed the class or perished in some Snake River Canyon type stunt gone horribly awry. Some of you have moved on with your lives and couldn't care less about my quest. I'll try to satisfy all of you.

We arrived at the range on our final day to discover that due to a scheduling snafu (I think that's a polite way to say f*#k up) the parking lot/range where we were to demonstrate our motorcycle riding prowess under the watchful and critical eyes of the instructors had been taken over by about 57 semi-trailer trucks. At first I thought that weaving through the maze of 18 wheelers was a surprise element of the test, but these mother truckers were having some sort of training. I don't know if it involved learning the phrases "breaker, one- nine", "there's a smokey on my six" or "what's the twenty on some commercial beaver?", but I'm sure there was not a module on doing a long haul with a monkey as your co-pilot.

After weighing all the options, the instructors decided that they could replicate the elements of the range that were needed for the test in another parking lot. After a short delay we were in business. I screwed up a few things by trying to do them too fast, and was sure that my haste would cost me my certification despite executing some of the drills flawlessly. We finished the range portion of our testing and went in for the 50 question written portion. I was more confident going into the written test because, let's face it, I'm brilliant when it comes to cypherin'. I missed three questions on the written test. I wanted a perfect score, what with my genius and all, but, as I justified it to myself, I still got an A. Then it was time to go into the hallway and get the results of my range test. despite a few flaws, I passed with a lot of room to spare. I can't remember ever having been so excited about a grade. I'm waiting for my certification to be mailed and then it's off to the Secretary of States' office to make myself an officially licensed motorcycle rider. To be honest, despite what the "man" says, I think I'm really only qualified for some more parking lot riding at the moment. Being the cautious sort, I want to do a little more practicing before I hit the open road to fulfill my "Easy Rider" fantasy.

"Daughter" is away at Girl Scout Camp this week. People always ask if I miss her and I don't know exactly how to answer. I guess i miss her a little, but I'm not weeping because of her absence. Maybe if she weren't somewhere having a great time, I'd feel differently. I look forward to her return, but every parent knows, even if they won't admit it, that every once in awhile, it's nice to have the kids gone. I always envision "Daughter's" absences as becoming a hedonistic opportunity for "Wife" and me. Oh yeah, we'll drink, eat, go to movies, and do other things that decorum prevents me listing here except to say that a spatula, trampoline and a garden gnome are involved. Reality however, doesn't share my joie de vive. What ends up happening is "Wife" has to work late, my schedule changes, and we end up falling asleep in front of the TV while the gnome looks on with an expression that is a mix of disappointment and relief.

Thinking about "Daughter' got me ruminating on "The Now Dead King of Pop" Michael Jackson. I haven't written about his death, because I'm tired of everyone canonizing this freak. Yes, he was a great artist, but he was also an accused child molester, skin bleacher and nose destroyer. In what could be the greatest example of money being able to buy you anything, he brokered a deal with a woman to bear him some spawn and then paid her to go away. Hanging out with a monkey must have gotten old. Now it turns out that "Peter Pan" didn't care enough about his human accessories to make arrangements for their care in the unlikely (Really? Nobody saw that coming? He had undergone so much elective surgery even Joan Rivers was laughing at him and was allegedly popping so many pills that he made Elvis look like a medicine phobe.) death. Because his focus was more on mixing up a batch of "Jesus Juice" than on caring for the kids, the court has granted temporary custody of Prince 1, Princess and Blanket (you're right, he wasn't nuts) to his mother. Good move. Let's put these kids who already have had to go through their lives in a daily Halloween parade, into the house that spawned their oh-so-stable father. It's enough to make me grab my crotch, shriek like a girl and walk backwards.

Starting Thursday morning I'll be filling in for Steve and Johnnie from 2-5 am. They're going on vacation through July 13, and I was tapped to handle the early morning portion of their shows. I'll also be back to my regular weekend times this week. There have been a few schedule changes on management's part, but those are done for the time being. I'll keep you updated on any changes. Gotta go lay out the spatula and tighten up the trampoline. Later...Brian