Seasonal Shifts

Do the solar seasons we experience, as an entire year consumes us, have anything to do with the dictates of our life?  I mean, yes it does in regards to the farmer who spends his winter planning for the spring planting.  He prays for strength to bear the long hot days of summer and for rain to sustain the labors of spring until harvest.  So as the coming harvest season shortens the length of day and distills the heat of summer, we continue to pray for the opportunity to take from the field, our bounty, before the dread storms spawned from our life sustaining Gulf of Mexico lay them flat. 

 

Let me start with the winter of this year, 2013/2014.  What have I experienced and what is the season preparing me for?  I have not heard the comfort of my Mockingbird since before Thanksgiving.  In the dog days of summer I notice he is quiet, so too, has he not remained silent in the short days of winter as well?  I see him often in his pursuit to sustain life, but he is not sharing with me the comfort his existence provides me.  Although I know it will come soon, why am I missing his song more with each passing day?  What is it with this particular winter?  I do not recall it ever being this cold for such an extended time for this part of Central Louisiana.  Since I have no fields to plant what change might this particular cold winter be preparing me for?  What I have noticed in the absence of my vocal Mockingbird is the chatter of little sparrows as their gathered excitement in the Loquat tree welcomes me to work.  It seems they are even more vocal on the coldest of mornings as I arrive to open city hall where my office is located.  I am reminded of the verse, “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing, yet not one shall fall to the ground?” Let me see if I can make sense out of this as I reflect upon my thoughts.

 

For the past several years I quietly struggled emotionally with the safety of my only son as he went back and forth into harm's way as part of our military.  No one but those closest to me or those that have been in my position would understand the quiet disturbance that exists in the mind of a concerned parent.  On the occasion he did ask how I was doing, my answer was always the same, “As long as I can get in and out of my Corvette and throw my leg over my motorcycle, I will be doing fine.”  I was hoping he would understand what my meaning was at this age of my life, but what about those who do not know me as intimately?   Might this lead one to think my sole reason for existing is fast cars and motorcycles?  In actuality it was the enjoyment of shifting through the gears of my Corvette and the freedom and exhilaration I feel on the back of my Goldwing motorcycle.  What would I do without one or the other? 

 

My 1986 grey Corvette 4x3 transmission has been my heart ever since I flew to California and drove her home after I bought her on Ebay in 2000.   She had her bumps and scars but I didn’t care.  She was mine to pamper, abuse, repair, drive, and enjoy!  I loved taking her hard top off and going places when the temperature was balanced and comfortable.  Wearing a baseball cap to keep my shaved head from getting sunburned was just part of the necessary preparations to enhance the fun.  Just last year I put new shoes and socks on her which “set off”  her curb appeal to me and did some cosmetic repairs on the inside which made both of us happy.  Then the inevitable occurred.  I passed by this one car lot and lust possessed my heart.  There it sat like a prostitute in business.  If I had the money, she would be mine.  I have seen many of these temptations in my life, but this one caused me to make a big mistake.  I took a second look and the second sin engaged, Covetousness!  

 

I turned off the main highway and parked my marked city Code Enforcement car as best I could to mask my presence there.  As I sat in my car just staring with my mouth open, I took in the curves and every contour of her beautiful body.  I knew she was out of my price range, but how much I simply didn’t know as I sat there in my desiring state of mind.  I had to know.  I exited my car and approached her.  She introduced herself as Mercedes C300 and told me she was everything I ever desired right down to her glossy black exterior and leather buckskin bucket seats.  If any automobile I ever saw had blue eyes, this one did.  I could not be seen with her in public, much less sit in the confines of her temptuous embrace. So, I hastily returned back to the safe confines of my unit and left her to advertise her allure to some other passing soul.  Later that day I did return without the marked car and uniform.

 

We did embrace.  She caressed my posterior and prompted me to test her abilities at pleasing me as we entered the tested yet unprotected roadways of which she so aptly preformed.  And I was not disappointed as our relationship instantly bonded.  How easy it was for her to convince me I preferred four doors as compared to the two my Corvette had.  Then she teased me with the assets of her rear end as another need I could possess as well, in the form of a self contained trunk.  As our quick tryst came to an end, I refused one last request of her, I did not choose to look under her hood at what really made her soul complete.  I was consumed with the outward beauty alone and as with all affairs, refused to get involved with her “under the hood” soul.  We parted ways six or so months ago.  When I did return a couple of days later to resume our acquaintance, I was informed she had been purchased in full by a lady just as attractive as she was.

 

Seasons do provide and help us prepare for the approaching season or so it appears to me.  My interest in getting on my Goldwing and riding cross country with a handful of friends lost its allure three or four years ago.  On the Goldwing I could communicate by radio with several other riders and friends as we cruised the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas or screamed at 100 mph across the ups and downs of the Three Sisters in West Texas.  I moved away from the organized chaos of these rides to the more peaceful solitude of solitary jaunts to where ever my heart would lead me.  I will never forget my first cross country ride to visit my son in Fayetteville, NC where he was stationed.  All I knew was that I wanted to ride what is known in the motorcycle world as the “Tail of the Dragon” that stretched between Tennessee and North Carolina.  Imagine my surprise when I unwittingly rode into the city limits of a place called Pigeon Forge and then encountered a sign that said Great Smokey Mountain National Park!  How many times have I looked for an excuse to “just ride” anywhere I could go and return in just a few days.  So many countless times I can’t remember them all.

 

My Goldwing...  I told Linda when I was 48 years old there were three things I wanted, another Corvette, a motorcycle, and a motor home.  She was flexible to a point on the Corvette request, so much so, that it turned into three over a few short months.  The motorcycle started with a Yamaha 1300 fully dressed, followed by a White Honda Goldwing 1500.  I stopped with and still possess my third and final motorcycle which is an Illusion Blue Goldwing 1800.  Beautiful then and still is!  When you walk around her she appears blue and then transforms into that deep LSU purple!  With this, she put her foot down on the motor home.  I am somewhat glad she did.  She gave me all the rope I needed to “not” be able to hang myself, yet indeed, I still tried my best. 

 For 15 years I have enjoyed the peace and freedom this powerful vehicle has provided me.  Only those who have stretched one of her kind out across the landscape of our endless Interstate system, would one possibly understand the exhilaration you feel while sitting astride such a fine tuned machine wearing boots, leather, gloves and helmet as the world passes by at 75+ mph.   And haven’t each of us, who has ever participated in such cross country sorties, tingled with excitement as we experienced the intense summer storms laced with lightning and unrelenting rain?  We would just push through the heat cell that captured us with an increased adrenaline rush, knowing a scant few minutes/miles down the road we would exit from the intense soaking encounter unscathed.  It was times like these, as we watched the storm cell that we just exited disappear in our rearview mirrors and start to focus on the next one approaching.  Imagine how something like this stimulated our desire to never get off of these fine machines.  Oh yes as we called it, "the slicing of the storm!" And who amongst us reading this would not deny the urge to just “twist” the throttle on those occasions we might find ourselves on a solo cross country?  If I live to be 125 years of age, I will never forget this temptation urging the mind to JUST DO IT!  Gazing as far as I could see across the vast landscape of openness for anything remotely resembling a police car, this foolish recklessness trips in my mind all too often and the thrill is on!  How can I describe this feeling of unrestrained torque as I accelerate from a cruising speed of 75 mph up through 100 to the max speed of the 124 mph limits of a fully dressed Honda Goldwing!  All the time being pushed back into the seat still desiring more speed!  No, a flat tire, passing raccoon, skunk or armadillo never crossed my mind, but the idea I was properly dressed did insure the possibility of an open casket funeral, even at that speed.  However…  Let it be known, the need for speed still exists in the depths of my aging soul as some unknown caged demon is still begging to be set free once again, somewhere, on or in something!

 

I’m sure the handful of you that have engaged this story thus far might be wondering by now, “Rod, where are you going with this senseless babble?” Let me bring you up to speed with where exactly I find myself precariously teetering in this present winter season of 2013/14 while navigating the early winter season of my life.  Well, if you are familiar with my work, you might entertain my blog entry in Facebook Quotes of 2013 dated July 18.  This was a scant six (6) months ago, yet light years ago collectively speaking.  My encounter with the Mercedes saw me fall victim to yet another temptation as the season(s) prompted me to “change perspectives” in preparation for what?  I was simply tending to city business when just recently on the same street corner she caught my eyes.  I did not look the second time as I did just six months prior.  I yielded immediately to her tempting call.  Even more did she offer than Mercedes C300, the one that led me astray a short few months ago.  This one was so confident in herself that my need to test her ability on the roadway was not even desired of me.  Navigation, heated seats with lumbar control, blue tooth, moon roof, DVD and DVR accented of course in the most beautiful Pearl White color enticed me without question to actually look under her hood into her soul.  Scant approval by my executive officer was questioned with how do I intend to pay for this and the next day, I took her home with me.  Her name?  Cadillac STS with that bad Northstar engine!

 

My gray Corvette is still tentatively a part of my life as she is up for sale.   I guess I am saying goodbye to a wonderful season of my life as I prepare to give her away for a proper price.  She is being pampered by an accomplished mechanic so the new owner can experience her passion without fear of something going wrong because of her age.  Who knows, maybe she can teach her new owner what she enjoyed so much from the years we spent together…   Whoever wants her can make those new memories for himself.  As for me, I continue to answer my executive officer's question, “how do I intend to pay for my transition into this next season?"    As this cold winter has kept me somewhat restricted from active participation with a certain Illusion Blue Goldwing 1800, I am strongly considering severing my last tie with this diminishing season I watch fading in my rearview mirror.  Can I do it?  Really say good bye to my Goldwing and all of those memories we made together since I started riding 15 years ago?  Well, I’ve typed myself into this corner and I sit here with an aching heart as I alone drug up the past in preparation for my final push to my destiny.  I will make the right choice, I’m sure.

 

What is out there?  What is it that motivates me?  I guess to stay as healthy as I can until my health tells me its time.  In the mean time, a couple of things have excited me recently.  Sitting in the most comfortable settings of Ms. Cadillac STS she surprises me with an exciting taunt!  A message tripped across the driver information screen.  In clear print, with more than enough time to read it was this message:  DO NOT EXCEED 142 MPH.  Breaking out in a controlled grin, I felt that suppressed demon stir as that Id vs. Super Ego began to parry deep inside of me as I almost broke out in a laugh just thinking about that stretch of interstate highway just waiting for me yet once again to JUST DO IT yet one more time???  I knew she was perfect for me.  Now, as if to find stability, I must remind myself there is that classroom and pistol range I desire to complete at my old nursery site where I can train students in basic pistol and concealed carry protocol.  After all, even in a wheelchair I can teach people desiring this training how to shoot and take care of themselves.  What qualifies me?  I’ve shot two people including myself and there is that Volkswagen in Alaska that made me Alaskan folklore…  

 

Rod Ferguson

January 23, 2014
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