What’s the use of having a thought if I can’t share it…?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had something to say and felt what I have to say is worth listening to. That’s why blogging has been a perfect outlet for me. Blogging isn’t just a platform where I can share my thoughts on the world around me, uninterrupted, but it’s a place to tell my own story.
Two years ago today I began this blog, my third since 2002. Since then I’ve shared my unqualified, uneducated and unsolicited opinion on everything from religion, diplomacy, philosophy, the arts, and the moral progress of man, all from the perspective of a guy on a bike speeding away from his daily problems.
In each post over the last couple of years, I’ve tried to include my own story. I’ve done this by superimposing the world around me onto the world within me, correlating the two worlds, and sending it out in essay form. I don’t always get it right when explaining the world around me, but I do my best to truthful about my own story.
What I appreciate most about blogging is that it’s a permanent digital archive of my thoughts — of who I am. My writing is a place where I can still be found long after I’m gone, that may serve to answer any questions about me by family, my friends, or whoever might be interested.
I’m not a professional writer, a journalist, or even an essayist. I’m a storyteller who, in many ways, is full of himself. Who else but an egomaniac would write something every week and hope deep down that everyone on earth would read it…? I framed it this way once before and I think it’s a good way to close out today…
You go to somebody’s backyard barbecue and there’s a band there. You hear the guitar player in the band and you think he plays better than Duane Allman. You return home after the barbecue and you put on an Allman Brothers album. It takes just a couple seconds before you realize that the guy playing at the barbecue was pretty good for being in a garage band, but he’s no Duane Allman.
I am a garage band of a writer.
I don’t have much. I don’t own a home. The car I drive is a piece of junk. My retirement plan is to work part-time washing dishes at Denny’s. But what I do have is the friendships that I value so much, and this creative outlet that has served me so well.
Writing, riding, and taking pictures have become the methadone of my existence. Individually, they’ve each been a part of my life for years. When I combined them into essay form, I feel like I own of something of value for the very first time.
To everyone who’s followed along these last couple of years, thank you…!
This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb
This week by the numbers…
Bikes Ridden: 7
Mph Avg: 15.2
Seat Time: 13 hours 25 minutes
Whether you ride a bike or not, thank you for taking the time to ride along with me today. If you haven’t already, please scroll up and subscribe. If you like what you read, give it a like and a share. If not, just keep scrollin’. Oh, and there’s this from Roger Hodgson. Enjoy…