365 degrees of separation.

Funny how much difference a year makes. Today as the snow terror raged and the flakes came down, I realized how much lamer this February is compared to last year.

February is hard enough for your average motorcycle junkie. Winter dragging on, sadness and suicidal thoughts at every turn.

365 days ago, it wasn't that bad. 2009 had us still in the cozy brick fortress that had served us well for years. I was happily unemployed, as well as Butch. The room was abuzz with excitement as we all thrashed on the shovelhead. We had to make it oil tight for the upcoming adventure to Daytona.





Transport on Rory's RV had been nailed down, free lodging with Marc and Marshall at Greene Acres secured and rabid anticipation of exposing Hollywood and Butch to the cool scene that is DeLand, Florida.

This year things are way different. I have a full time job, yet I am broker than I was last year. Worst of all, my bikes are unregistered due to back taxes. To go South will be financial self mutilation, of which there can be no come back.

The cold steel shipping container clubhouse does not ring with the sound of hot biker chicks.

No mayhem here at the new place. Too far out of the loop.

I am tortured. Responsibilty or jackassery? What will I choose?

Todd is laboring away on his FLHT, good news on his tax return might give him a chance to go. Rory has been campaigning hard for another RV haul. Jake has mentioned slight interest, he is easily swayed at the last minute.


The enticements are surely there.

Two weeks will see if I am an idiot or a true believer.