Let me start by saying I feel I am middle-aged (I am in fact 13 years to young to say that, but I only plan on seeing about 60). I like so many other middle-aged married men seem to be going through a crisis of conscience, I am being pulled in many directions and I seem to have lost my way. Anybody who has read any of my stuff should now I am highly opinionated, crass, obnoxious but most of all I am a tiny little boy trapped in a middle-aged shell.
The other day I get a call about mid-day from my wife, this never means anything good as she only calls to tell me my son fell and hurt himself or she spent a pile of money that we cant afford and she was feeling guilty. To my surprise and amazement she called to say she was camping for the night with her friend and her friends son so I was on my own.
I don't think I have ever cleared my schedule that fast in my life, within 20 minutes of talking to her I had the rest of the afternoon off. As I was driving home with a smile from ear to ear, music blasting, wind blowing around my face and me belting out some words to a long forgotten song that made me relive my youth I realized I had nothing to do. I had not made any plans for myself in so long I almost forgot how to do it.
My heart started to race, I could feel my ears growing red as my temp started to rise. I was actually having a panic attack because I was so stressed that I did not want to waste my night of freedom but I could not for the life of me think of a single thing to do other then abuse myself to free 30 second clips of home made porn on the internet and fall asleep by 9.
So there I am trying to calm down and breath normally when [B]LAID[/B] by [B][I]James[/I][/B] hits the air wave and I instantly am transformed back into a teenager getting ready for a local bush party fuel by teen-aged angst, pot and Canadian Club. I instantly know what to do. I will call my buddy and go race his mini bike and just get wrecked in a field.
When I was younger all I did was stupid shit like this but since becoming an adult I seemed to have stopped having fun, not sure what changed. Maybe it was the increased responsibility or the whole falling in love thing or the fact that I now had other people to consider - who knows and it does not matter anyways.
I fumbled around in my car searching for my cell phone, almost side swiping a Winnebago in the process only to be alerted to my wondering wheels by a loud raucous of horns. I realized that I had lost it a couple of weeks previous, so I looked straight out my window at some poor unfortunate older gentlemen and just screamed obscenities at the top of my lungs. Full on spittle flying vein throbbing screaming. I felt bad afterwords because the old man just happened to be in the lane beside me. I felt better though, randomly complete and utter melt downs are 100% required for a healthy well being!!
The rest of the ride home seemed to whiz by as I was so excited. I squeal around the corner and peel into my buddies driveway and like a monument there he stood beer in hand, spliff in the tray awaiting a new adventure. I swear when our eyes locked he knew instantly that we were in for troubles. I jump out and before my door clicked closed I catch a beer that he opened before throwing it without spilling a drop and poured it down my neck. He clapped as he was impressed I spilled not a drop. We never even realy spoke I just walked into his garage and started loading up his trailer. The first thing he said was "You might wanna grab those coveralls, your wife would be pissed having to clean up your nice work clothes" I chuckled and said "FUCK THAT, tonight I get messy".
We goof off for a while having a couple more beers killing the first spliff and then a second before we head off (we live in the country, when I say head off I mean basically to the end of the road to the fields).
30 Seconds later we pull over and jump out, I am up on the trailer faster then he can even open the first can starting up the tiny little 80 cc Honda, it purred to life like a singer sewing machine (I did very well in home-ec) spewing blue smoke as it cooked the oil that had seeped into the cylinders from lack of use. As it warms up I unstrap the little fucker with a smile on my face I had not felt in a long while. It could have been the beers or the smoke, maybe it was the fucking fantastic night but my guess is it was mostly because I was having selfish fun and I knew I was not going to get in trouble. He tosses me another can and we both shotgun, right then I squat down and straddle this tiny bike, twist the throttle and hold on as I shoot off the trailer hitting the dirt with a thud as all the suspension bottoms out under my weight.
Fuck I laughed like a mad man as I tore down the dusty trail, leaving clouds in my wake and peppering my buddy with tiny stones. FFFUUUUUCCCKKKKEEEERRRRRRR is all I can hear over the whine of the straining motor and my own laughter! I tear around corners going full on 25 to 30 miles/hour, I know I am probably dreaming that I was going that fast but it sure felt fast as hell on such a little bike. When I get back to the truck my buddy looks none to amused so I proceed to do a couple of donuts just to rile him up some more before I hand it over to him. We shotgun a couple more cans before he takes off trying his damdest to pepper me, but luckily I put his truck between him and I, hehehehe. We continue this for a couple of hours until some poor little kid shows up with his old man and a bike he had just bought off the internet. Now his old man eyes us up and can clearly see we are in no fit shape so he tells his kid to use the back trail as we were on the main one.
My buddy tosses the old man a beer and says come on, I bet he wants to race. The little kids eyes light up like a 6 alarm blaze and he starts to beg his dad to let him race us. The old man cracks the beer and says have at her but take care. The kid was never in any danger as he was decked from head to toe in gear, compared to me in my dress pants and button shirt (fuck I must have looked a right state).
Off we go and to my surprise his little bike can really move, well that and the fact that he was less then half my weight and size. No matter I tucked in and it was a race, the kid could have had me if he knew how to ride but it was ll over on the first hairpin, he went wide and I took off on the inside. After that he was eating dust. He pulled up next to me as I sat there having a beer, with the biggest grin ever and said that was great and wanted to go again. I felt really good, I beat the pants off this kid and he loved it - made me forget everything and just enjoy the night.
All three of us raced a couple of times, the poor kid never did beat us but he sure learned a lot. We stayed out until the beers were gone, the old man looked pretty tuned by the time we were done - not my worry though.
My buddy and me went back to my place (also just down the road) sat out of the deck and drank some more, listening to 90's rock and reminiscing about the good old days. Fuck sometimes I think I am old, but the I look at what I have and it all melts away.Cheers to mental breakdowns and then being built back up.
PS - I did not proof this as I am far to busy!!