Bikes. Parts. Chaos.

Recently we had a pretty powerful thunderstorm here in Minneapolis.  I was out of town at the time, hiding under a tarp with Phil, but I heard about much of it from my wife and friends.  So I didn’t experience the storm first hand, though lately I’ve gotten a pretty good idea what it was like the next morning.  I’ve been riding around neighborhoods a lot (mostly in exploration) and just marveling at the affect that wind can have on trees in the middle of a city block.  I know it’s a cliché, but I often find myself in awe of the immense power of nature.

It’s so on it’s own level.  That’s what I love about nature.  It’s unapologetically itself. Those are the kinds of people I like too.  The ones who are so themselves, that they don’t spend any time, trying to “be” themselves.  Or figure out who “they” are.  They just are.

Now most of those people are completely crazy according to the “rules” and “regulations” set up by the society that we exist in, but who the hell really cares?

I don’t. 

I long to be one of those people.  I aspire to it.  I work at it.  On my best days, I am one of those people.  On my worst days, I’m a massive prick, but what can you do?

I remember Forest Gump once said to me, “life is like a big long thing, that only seems like it’s long to you at the beginning but by the end it seems like it’s really short and you’re momma talks to you about chocolates and then you open a shrimp restaurant and eat the beans that make you see through time.”

And that stuck with me.

It’s something I’ll never forget.

I don’t really know Forest Gump. But his words seemed apropos in a post with the word “cliché” in the title. And isn't that knowing him enough?

I know what you’re thinking, “Put down the bong, freak!”  And all I can say to that is…

Okay man.

Okay.