Who am I, really? Where am I? ...Why?

Spring is comming. I can tell I already wonder if I care about the warmer weather. I wonder if I'll lose any weight and look like I might care about the summer. Will I really enjoy riding this summer or will I just hit the road trying to look like I belong on the horsepower?

Blogging? WTF? Who blogs. Who the fuck cares about blogging? Motorcycles? Yeah, I'm a biker alright... A dispatcher? Yeah, the guys and gals up there look at me and say "dispatcher" alright... I think I'm not fooling anyone, and I'm certainly not fooling myself.

So, blogger? Well, according to the definition there is no reall definition accept to say you type some kind of dribble or another and click "post"... Does anybody read it? You did.

This will be my first post, and so I'll just hit the big picture here just to let anyone and everyone, maybe even nobody, in on what might be ahead. My (adult and semi-adult) kids think I'm nothing more than a political hack who can barely muster up the inclinatin to see me even once during the Christmas season. My ex-wife likely sees me as I really am, a child-like moron who is very self centered and runs away when things are tough. My wife now likely knows she can do much better and I just hope she doesn't act on that... I had a great job but mis-treated it and now am just barely getting by in regard to my ablity to my current job, and I may not have it long term, time will tell. I've felt the pain of having love ripped away and I've caused that very pain now as well. I've made patrols on submarines, jumped from airplanes, rode motorcycles, shot many guns, loved a few women, drove a semi, dispatched police, graduated from college, fought, loved, been to both coasts and Vegas, have tatoos, raised kids (some would say not so well however), been to a half dozen countries around the world, had sex in a park, listened to soviet submarines and beds of shrimp on the ocean floor, stood as a nuclear weapons security guard, put people on home oxygen, extubated (took off life support) an elderly man so he could die with his family, ran several 10k races, flew airplanes with my dad, fished, walked fields and dug forts and shot bb guns with my brother, swam in the ocean and laid on beaches, took flights on cargo planes and helicopters and small planes and airliners, been arrested, held my teenage daughter while she cried, felt the pride of a child when they did so very well and have also felt the pain when a child dished to me what I dished out to my parents as a teenager, gave a hungry man food on a corner, put up a suspended ceiling complete with wiring in the lights, saw a baby being born, held my child as thanked God for such a wonderful feeling, cursed God several times when pain or loneliness was unbearable, finally told my first wife that I known for 20 years now what she thought nobody else knew- just to let her know she never really got away with 'it', drove cross country, made a website, graduated from boot camp, killed a cat that was suffering, walked thru the woods, camped, took several defensive handgun courses, sailed on a small sailboat, took a daughter on her first rollercoaster ride, worked in an amusement park, worked at a Pizza-hut, worked as a pest control tech, worked as a respiratory therapist, worked driving a truck and delivering soft drinks, worked as a wiring tech for a manufacturer of electrical substations, even tried to sell cars, worked six years as a sonar technician in the navy, held my wife as we both cried because we found someone who we really love and want, cried because of a love and life together I threw away, been proud of daughters as they graduated from high school, been proud of a daughter after she graduated boot camp and is now an MP, been to a brewery in Europe, rode the tram in England and Holland, sat in a bar in Scotland on Christmas eve wondering what my three day old daughter in Nebraska looked like, felt the loneliness as a sailor missing his family, felt the joy of making love to my wife after being away for months, been in car crashes, enjoyed formal dinner and enjoyed messy barbeque in Kansas City, I cried when my dad died when I was 20, I cried when my mom died when I was 27.

So? ...Exactly. So fruck'n what? What are blogs for? Guess I'll find out. I'll start somewhere and end somewhere and maybe I'll pretend there's one person on earth that might care about what I think, and maybe, just maybe that person will take a moment to let me know they are reading this and have "been there" also.

See ya next time.