The Love Ride went on as scheduled last Sunday and I was part of it for the third year in a row. As I mentioned in a previous entry, I had volunteered to work the event this year but I screwed up and missed the only training session I could have made, so I was just another rider again.

I did manage to raise some money, though. I missed my target goal of $600 by about a mile, but I was able to contribute $160 thanks for a hefty donation from my Bay area buddy Bob, money love from the lovely and talented wife unit, and a handout from my mommy. A big “thank you” to all of you, but especially to Bob because he kicked down with no family obligations to compel him. As for the rest of youse… Well, I know you would have helped if I had reminded you, but I just never got around to it. Next year I’ll make like NPR and hit you up for donations every 30 seconds.

I went on the ride solo. Beth had to stay home with Zoe, Steve is still waiting for the shop to put his Road King back together, and the guys from my riding club started rubbing me the wrong way and I stopped riding with them. End result, I rode alone with 15,000 other riders and didn’t feel very alone at all.

ZZ Top was great, but now that I’ve checked them off my list of “80’s Bands I Want To See 20 Years Later” I don’t have to see them again. Or Styx. Or Journey. Or Springsteen. Or– No, wait, I’d see Springsteen again.

The most notable event of the day is that at the tender age of 41 I finally saw my first “concert flash” when a young hottie up front lifted her shirt and treated the band and everyone around her to a good long look at her party hats. That, too, can go on my list of things I don’t need to see again.

No, wait, that was Journey. I still wanna see boobies.

Will Lorin & Lorin Frank Productions
“Music to Drill Oil Wells By”

Because wildcatters like to dance too.

Southern California isn’t all about sunshine and palm trees and endless summer. No, sometimes it gets cold out here. And if you’re on a motorcycle it’s even colder. This morning was a brutal 46 degrees when I left the house. (Minnesota readers are spewing hot chocolate all over their screens right about now.) That’s fuggin’ cold on a bike, kids. You have to dress for it.

My wardrobe is:

• Tinted goggles to keep the wind and sun (and bugs and road trash and etc…) out of my eyes
• A buff worn balaclava style
• A heavy leather coat
• Leather gloves
• Jeans
• Leather chaps
• Boots
• Half helmet (thus requiring the balaclava-style buff)
• And the best 50 cents I ever spent: a fleece pullover I picked up at a thrift store in Bozeman, MT

I’m actually pretty toasty with all that on. There’s a few square inches of near-frostbite on my forehead where the wind gets under the buff, but otherwise I’m as comfortable as if I were in a car.

It’s warmer than it sounds. Honest.

And this is probably the lamest entry I’ve ever posted.

Headline: Golfer Bitten in Head by Rattlesnake

I wonder if they used a tourniquet?