... or whatever other "Flavor" of Adventure puts a wiggle in your git-along!
I'm gettin' the sensation that a lot of folks just ain't listenin' to a word this Ol' word wrangler says!
I hardly get through a week that I don't get some sort of a message from somebody, that I'm gonna get whacked, either by my motorcycle... or the lack of some carefulness to insulate my butt from some imagined danger...
I've flat lost count of all the folks that keep batterin' me with how that motorcycle is gonna be the death of me... really?
I've had more than one friend sent to the great mystery... one in a pickup... a couple in cars... gunfire, booze... NOT ONE... on a Motorcycle...
So... Uh... Give it a rest!
I have never and don't expect I ever will, give a hang for when the grim reaper comes to do his dirty deed... I do intend to thump that carnivorous buzzard, without mercy, 'bout the head and shoulders, when he arrives... and go down fightin'...
... but when he comes, he comes... and there ain't one blessed thing I can do to make him seek other employment...
I swear... everywhere I look I see nuthin' but people runnin' round tryin' to find that 'special' padding to line the closet they live in... so they won't take up the space for their air purifier... their vitamins, heavy metal water filter... insurance papers, their bullet proof jammies, Carbon Monoxide detector/fire alarm, fire extinguisher, and the phone book full of emergency numbers... not to mention their calendar with the dates of this quarters list of their annual medical 'tests', a respirator, and their two cell phones!
... One for back up of course... You have to be careful you know!
Oh yeah... why the padding?
... so they won't get a bruise, if they trip over all the other junk they burden their life with, in their impotent struggle to protect themselves from all the imagined, or real, boogey men that are out to get 'em... and bounce off the wall!
Looky here... Let's put this into juuuust a mite of context... OK?
When mr. obama and all his special federal agents, your 17 doctors, insurance agent, mechanic, seat belt, automatic obstacle sensors, motion detector alarm system, depends (that you got on sale), local police men, Verizon automatic reminder, firemen, personal bodyguard... and all the other 493 people you set up to protect you... along with your plumber... get done doin' their jobs...
... you know what happens?... Uh Huh... They put you in a box and throw dirt in your face... unless of course... you opt for the BBQ!
I have never worried, but little, 'bout how MANY days I could squeeze out of this life... That has never been my concern... it's a useless enterprise... and consumes the days you DO have.
... That's like trying to outrun a meteor!
My interest has always been in finding the ways to squeeze all the juice out of the days I have. I'd much rather Live a hundred joyous, wondrous days; and go out in a busted broken, battered Ol' wreck of a carcass... than EXIST 31,425 safe, protected, 24 hour, monotonies... and go out in a pristine, un-dented, UNUSED, body...
... did you notice... no matter How you LIVE... Wild and Wooly, with a BIG OL' Droolin' Grin hangin' on your silly face... or safe and careful... you still end up... DEAD!
Now... if worryin' all your life is how you want to spend your treasures... go for it...
But I for one adhere to Gus's sentiments; "It ain't dyin' I'm talkin' about... it's LIVIN!"
So many people spend so much time... frettin' 'bout just how, and when, it's all gonna come screechin' to an end, or how much 'Time' they might could add with juuuust this one more layer of carefulness... that they miss the LIFE they DID HAVE!
Quit it! ... Pull on your boots... Put your keys in the ignition... fire up that Ol' smoke belchin' monster from Detroit City... and git your butt down the Road!... RV Boondocking... Road Trippin'... Up to some Trailhead to Hike through the High up and Lonesome... To the Lake where that Monster Bass is awaitin' your hook!... To the girly shows in Vegas! :o)... pssst! kin' I ride along? :o)
Heck... you could even go bungie jumping!... The only reason I don't is that the only thing holdin' my head on... is the skin on my neck!... I hit the end of that rubber rope and that sucker'd pop off like the tennis ball poppin' out of that thrower gizmo Heidi has for her dogs!
Come on People!... LIVE! ... Do It NOW!
Don't be the cranky Ol' buzzard sittin' in the Old folks home with no stories to tell your companions; well, except for that exciting gall bladder surgery!
No Sir! Be the one makin' the jaws drop with stories of a LIFETIME of adventures... "Running Against the Wind"!
Take Good Care
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