Yearly Archives: 2009

Bike Cop Surprise

Posted on by

After work yesterday, I got on my Harley at the Metro station and began my ride home, as usual. I stopped at the light near the station, signaling a left turn. When it turned green, I carefully executed the turn. Knowing that the next light would be red due to the timing of the traffic signals, I proceeded slowly and stopped at that light. When it turned green, I slowly accelerated and maintained a steady pace until I reached my cross-street, where signaled and turned left. I stopped again at the next light. Then when it changed to green, I slowly accelerated until I reached my street, signaled, and turned right.

It was then that I noticed a bike cop riding behind me. I thought to myself, “what did I do?” which is a natural reaction, even though I know that I was riding well within the speed limit and didn’t run a red light.

I stopped, and the cop pulled up next to me. He smiled and said, “I followed you from the Metro as I was headed out this way anyway. I thought I would tell you that I thought you were the most graceful motorcycle rider I have seen in a long time.”

WOW!

Who, me? “graceful?” The guy who would trip over his own shadow if it were possible? Who trips himself walking on a flat sidewalk with no obstacles? Who calls himself a quarantasinestrapede when it comes to dancing? Who, as a kid, was always picked on for being such a klutz and uncoordinated?

The cop said that he sees a lot of bikers, and few ride the way I did. He then ticked off each maneuver I made: gentle stops, smooth acceleration, steady pace, sweeping turns well within the intended lane of travel, and using my turn signals where appropriate.

The cop and I had a nice discussion about motorcycle riding. I explained that I had been riding for more than 30 years, have participated in many training courses over the years, and continue to practice my skills from time to time. I like to ride with safe riders in my club, and continue to learn a lot from them as we ride together safely.

This “bike cop surprise” was delightful, and made me feel better after a rather difficult day at work. When my partner arrived at home, I told him what happened. He smiled, hugged me, confirmed his belief that I am a good rider, then asked (because he knows me so well), “what kind of boots was the cop wearing?”

Life is short: ride gracefully!

N.B.: the photos accompanying this post were captured from a video that I put on my YouTube Channel a while back. I was dressed more warmly yesterday (tall boots, chaps, motorcycle jacket, gloves) than I was dressed in that video, which was produced in the heat of summer.

Cookin’ In Leather

Posted on by

Here I am on Sunday afternoon running pasta through the pasta press from which we made several batches of home-made cheese ravioli. Simmering on the stove behind me is a huge pot of home-made pasta sauce. A homemade “scrumptious” apple pie is cooling on a rack on the counter.

The bread oven is baking four loaves of bread, three of which are intended for a few of my “elder buds” who like my home-made bread. Heck, if I am making one loaf, making a few more is very easy and quick to do.

My partner’s “honey-do list” for chores around the house had abated, so I had time to bake and cook, which I love to do. My partner enjoys helping. It was a beautiful day outside; however, I was tired from being out late on Saturday night, and also I was experiencing some side-effects from the regular seasonal flu shot that I got on Saturday. Further, I had developed a rather bad case of “the trots” caused by the ice used for a soft drink served at the bar on Saturday night. Unfortunately, DC water does that to me.

So I chose to stay home and cook on Sunday, rather than get out and ride. I do not like to ride my Harley when I am not feeling well and not at peak performance. I felt divided, as I know the riding season is growing short, and there will not be many days like this when I could enjoy a ride without other obligations hanging over my head. But I just wasn’t feeling strong enough.

Life is short: enjoy your home!

Fetish Gear Mixer

Posted on by

UPDATED AUGUST 2010: Unfortunately, this “CODEDC” thing has degraded into an event focused on sex. My partner and I are monogamous and don’t play with others. We will not attend any more “CODEDC” events.

This is my partner and me after we returned from our Saturday night out.

The “CODE DC” party bills itself as “not your Daddy’s leather scene” though it goes on to say that if you’re into leather, by all means wear it, but they’re also open and very welcoming to any type of gear fetish, from athletic gear to uniforms to rubber & latex to skin, and all else. Specifically, they say, “we want to make CODE a place where our younger people who may not even identify as Leather will still want to come.”

Congratulations; the organizers of this event did well. My partner and I were impressed with the huge mix of guys turned out in all sorts of gear. The “guy mix” included many bear-types, as well. All of it was there — lots of younger guys who were mostly in athletic jock gear were joined by others who were in uniforms (such as me), lots of rubber and latex, and some others in full leather. Guys with bodies to show were shirtless, and provided a nice view.

What impressed us most was how outgoing and friendly attendees were. They mixed and mingled and really talked with one another. We didn’t notice as much heavy “cruising” going on as much as there was true conversation and guys meeting one another. The music at first was at a low volume, which aided in having conversations because you could actually hear what the other guy said. It got a little louder as the night went on, but it wasn’t so booming that you couldn’t hear someone else. While personally my partner and I don’t like techno “boonga-boonga-boonga” throbbing noise, we understand that such music is what they play at these events. So be it.

While they said that there would be a visit by a drag queen, I guess we left before she arrived.

The venue is great. It is long but narrow. The bar is against a wall, so there is not the “racetrack” feeling when a bar is in the middle of a room. We even could find a place to park not that far away.

Seating was available, from couches set up in areas to facilitate conversation, to a long bench across one side of the bar. That is where my partner and I planted ourselves. We enjoyed watching everyone arriving, mingling, and having a good time. I saw a few people I knew and enjoyed a conversation with them. We left rather early, but that’s characteristic of us — we just can’t handle “late” (defined as remaining awake after midnight.)

Congratulations to the organizers. If you are in the DC area on the first Saturday of the month, you should check out CODE DC. It is fun, mixed, interesting, and welcoming to people of all ages (especially the younger guys) and fetish interests.

We will not be attending these events regularly, just because we are not the type of guys to go out much any more. But we will go back sometime, when we can.

Last Night In Leather

Posted on by

I have said on this blog that we don’t go out much. Last night was a rare exception.

I leathered up from Muir Cap to All American Patrol Boots in my LAPD full Leather Uniform, leathered and booted my man, and we went out. We tried a new-to-us gathering called “CODE DC”.

I took and posted this photo before we left home on Saturday night. The leather and boots felt very, very good. My studly partner is gorgeous, but shy of the camera so I don’t have a photo of him, but let me say, “woofity-woof!”

Off we go! (Here is a link to our impressions of the event).

Life is short: enjoy your leathers!

Guppies

Posted on by

What do you see in this picture? (Click on it to enlarge it if you want.)

It was sent with an email from my state’s LGBT advocacy organization. The organization is promoting acquisition of license plates that show the organization’s symbol and by displaying the plates on your car, you are therefore supporting the organization and its mission. Okay, fine, I get it.

But what my partner and I both noticed immediately in the photo of these guppies is their vehicles — a late-model flashy Mercedes coupe and a Jaguar. Oh come on, gimme a break!

Sorry, guys, this has no appeal to us. We may live in Guppyville, but we find the image a display of “see my expensive toys, fellas? Haven’t we ‘arrived’?” (I have deleted other comments muttered under my partner’s and my breath, but I think you get the point.)

I wonder what the guppy term for “keeping up with the Joneses” is. I guess I don’t know, because we don’t.

Life is short: Basta!

It’s Leather Weather!

Posted on by

Of all four seasons we get in the DC ‘burbs of Maryland, USA, I like autumn the best. We usually have an extended autumn, lasting from mid-September through early November. With warm(ish) sunny days and cool(ish) nights, the weather is perfect for enjoying outdoor activities. Of course, motorcycle riding is part of that mix!

Oh, BTW, I should mention that one of the best times to be a tourist in Washington, DC, is right now. Summer visitors are gone, thus making queues at tourist hot-spots much shorter. The weather is more pleasant to walk around and enjoy the sights. Prices for hotel accommodations have dropped to “shoulder season” rates. Most school groups that go on field trips to DC do that in the Spring, not this time of year when they are focusing on academics. So this is a GREAT time of year to be a tourist of our fair Nation’s Capital.

During October, I have my usual obligations to my community and my cadre of “elder buds” as well, especially since it is Fire Safety Month. Once again, I have received a donation of batteries for smoke alarms, as well as some new smoke alarms, from a major home retailer which has supported my voluntary senior fire safety activities for many years. A gang of volunteers is being organized to go from home to home in mid-October to replace batteries (which need to be replaced once a year, not more often) or entire smoke alarms that have reached their ten-year life span.

During my time in Phoenix, Arizona, last week, I was giving my best friend some grief about how hot it was in late September (108°F, 42°C is just too hot!) I arrived home to find it pleasantly cool, with daytime temperatures about 70°F or 21°C, and early morning temps at 50°F or 10°C.

As usual, I prepared to ride my Harley to the Metro on Tuesday morning (and throughout this week), but discovered that with it becoming much cooler, I had to break out the riding leathers hung in my gear closet and used this time of year. Thick, durable riding chaps, my motocross jacket, and warmer gloves became necessary. I retired my summer 3/4 helmet for my full-face helmet, which is warmer, as well. I spent about 10 minutes rummaging around on Tuesday morning getting that gear out and on.

I didn’t mention the boots, but of course I wear boots every day, and when I ride my bike, it’s motorcycle boots on my feet. My Chip Hi-Shines have been enjoying re-entry into the daily mix, as well as my Chip Firefighter Boots, Dehner Patrol Boots, All American Patrol Boots, H-D Police Enforcer Boots… you get it. The only tall, warmer boots that I do not wear to work are Wescos. They are a bit too heavy, bold, and clunky to wear to my place of employment, which is a professional office. I will wear Wesco Boots on the weekend with casual leather jeans.

I look forward to enjoying autumn and wearing leather more often and with pride.

Life is short: wear your leather!

Oh, You Must Be Gay

Posted on by

One more story about my recent trip and then I’ll move on to other topics.

Airport security screening has settled into an understandable routine, and is about the same in each airport through which I have traveled in about the past year. That’s a good thing, because the unpredictability about what one would be asked to do next — from placing no more than three ounces of liquids such as shampoo and toothpaste in a resealable plastic bag to taking off one’s footwear while going through the magnetometer (sometimes called a “metal detector”) — was frustrating to many.

Infrequent travelers still hold up the line, but signage and explanations that are ubiquitous in airports helps a lot. “1-2-3” directions (show ID and boarding pass, take out liquids and laptops, remove footwear and jackets) have pictographic directions that are easy for almost anyone to understand.

So there I am on a Monday morning, which is a time when airports are crowded with business travelers, waiting for the screening agent to look at my boarding pass and driver’s license. He is trying to be jovial and friendly, which is better than a surly attitude I have experienced sometimes.

I have learned that when dealing with officials in this capacity, it is better not to try to initiate conversation. A pleasant “hello” or “good morning” is enough. So in Phoenix I said, “Good morning!” and the agent smiled. Then he said, “well, it’s not a good morning if you saw the [football] game last night. Wasn’t it awful when [name of player] … [did something wrong]?”

I replied, “sorry, I didn’t see the game.” I thought that would change the direction of the conversation, but the screener continued, “well, when [name of player] … [did something wrong], I thought he should have [done something else] and the coach should have [done something about it or to him].”

I just shrugged. He continued to examine my driver’s license, even by pulling out a magnifying glass to look more closely at it. I guess they don’t see that many Maryland licenses in Arizona and he had to check the date to ensure the license was valid. Then he remarked, “What do you think about [name of player on the local football team]?”

I said, “I don’t know. I don’t follow this team.”

ooops…

“I guess you’re a [Baltimore football team] fan, being from Maryland.”

I replied, “umm… uhhh…” I just tried to mumble and not say much, hoping he would just give me back my driver’s license and scribble whatever he has to scribble on my boarding pass and let me go. This was taking much too long.

“Or do you watch the [team from Washington]?”

Finally, I said, “not really. I don’t watch football.”

Then he said, “oh, you must be gay, but you don’t look it.”

WHAT????

Instead of making a federal case out of it and filing a written complaint — the guy wasn’t really trying to be difficult as much as he was trying to make a very bad joke which, to him, was funny, I said this:

Yes, in fact I am gay. But tell me, do you think that all men who do not care for football are gay? Really? Is that what you believe? And what do gay men look like?”

His response was both amusing and telling. He stammered, then profusely apologized. He said that he was “just talking” and didn’t mean anything bad. He quickly gave me back my driver’s license and boarding pass, and escorted me personally to a magnetometer station that was just opening so I could go through first, ahead of others. He kept glancing around. I guess he was looking to see if other people overheard us and if he were going to get into trouble if I made a scene.

This happens from time to time. Straight people just don’t get it, and sometimes say really stupid things without thinking. It happens more often after straight guys have been drinking alcohol which loosens their tongue and clouds rational thinking, but I have had it happen on several occasions in the most unusual circumstances where alcohol isn’t involved (such as this situation.)

This guy works long hours and in a difficult job. I am sure that he gets his share of grief from various passengers who think nothing of yelling and screaming if they become upset. Rather than go nuts, I took a deep breath and calmly said:

Thanks for getting me to this line. And remember, everyone is different, and you can’t make assumptions that if a guy looks like me that he is a football fan and that all football fans are straight. I know a lot of gay guys who enjoy football. I don’t happen to be one of them, but it doesn’t mean that it’s fair that you can make broad generalizations like that. Be careful.

He meekly apologized again and returned to his station. I pulled out my liquids and laptop, pulled off my boots, and put these things and my carry-on bag on the belt, sent them through the x-ray, walked through the magnetometer, gathered my belongings, pulled my cowboy boots back on, reassembled my carry-on, and walked to a restaurant to have some breakfast.

I thought all was said and done when a man in a suit came up to me and asked if he could sit at my table. Sure… though it wasn’t crowded, but I was at a table for four all by myself. He sat down and introduced himself. He said that he worked for the federal agency that oversees the airport security screeners. He said that he observed what happened, and listened to what I said. He commended me for my patience and calm demeanor. He also said that he documented the incident and will follow up.

I told him that I didn’t want that screener to get into trouble. He said that training is offered to screeners on how to talk with passengers and how to respect differences and be tolerant of diversity. He said that he would refer that screener for more training. Well, okay… that’s fine.

Life is short: patience is a virtue.

Winging It

Posted on by

I do not travel nearly as much as I once did. Back in the day with my former employer, I would travel, on average, about 150 days each year and go to about 70 cities both large and small across America. I might also have traveled once or twice a year internationally.

I would try to choose the same airline, so I could build miles and status to receive perks like early boarding and an occasional free upgrade to first class.

My travel is not nearly the same any more. I may travel just a few times each year nowadays. I have to use different airlines, and my once preferred carrier does not offer nearly as many choices as it once did. Thus, I have no status on any airline and am like anyone else. When I do fly, I wait for the cattlecar placement on the plane.

Take, for example, the recent boarding experience that I had for my return flight home from Phoenix the other day:

Passengers boarded before me include first class, preferred members, families with babies, disabled people, people with wide-set eyes, purple left thumbs, green feet, and everyone else.

“We are boarding by zones. Only board when your zone number is called.”

Everyone queues up anyway. (But the agent enforces the “boarding by zone” rule.)

“Attention, we are now boarding Zone 90” calls the gate agent.

Finally… That’s me.

“Sir, we have run out of middle seats in the back of the plane. Would you prefer to be strapped to the right or left wing?”

Ummm… I guess the left. I do not have it in me to be a right winger.

“Okay, sir, step out here. Good! Straps nice and tight? That’s great! (Who says you’re not into bondage!) It may be a little windy, but the view is excellent!”

This is a joke. This is only a joke. For the above post, this blog tested your bad joke deciphering system. This is only a joke. Actually, I got to sit on the tail…

Reflections on a Visit With A Friend

Posted on by

By the time you read this, I have returned to my home in Maryland, snuggled a warm hello with my partner, returned to work and my daily hectic life.

Photo above shows my buddy AZ and me relaxing after working through the weekend. AZ had to work for his employer and I offered to do work for him on his house. I felt good about accomplishing a lot of things that needed to be done.

Last time I visited AZ, I was taking vacation time and was there to have fun and explore the state where he lives. I enjoyed a different visit this time. It was “work focused” instead of “play focused.” What I did is what friends do for each other: I helped him with things that I could do using my skills as an electrician.

AZ knowsknew how to be a rock-solid good friend, and I amwas honored by and cherished his friendship with me. AZ is also very good to many others — such as the owners of the little dog sitting on the couch above my right shoulder. These friends had gone away for the weekend, and AZ took care of their dog. That is one small demonstration of what a good soul AZ has, and why so many people think so highly of his quality of character.

I wish I had more time to stay perhaps and play a little bit in the Grand Canyon State (Arizona), but that just isn’t in the cards right now. I have a workload beyond belief at home (both for my employer and in my civic life), and I just couldn’t take more than one day off. That’s how things are for me for the days, weeks, and months to come.

Life is short: help others using your skills, knowledge, abilities, and giving your time.

PS: (Added 2016 — AZ dropped me in 2012 for unknown reasons. We are no longer friends.)

Too Hot For Fun

Posted on by

Late September in Phoenix this week finds daytime high temperatures reaching 108°F (42°C). With only 13% relative humidity, when you step outside, you dry out and bake.

Last time I visited my best friend, AZ, here in Phoenix was in February. Back then, the daytime highs were much more tolerable, at about 85°F (29°C). I rented a Harley and we rode together to Sedona for a day trip.

During this visit, AZ had to work all day Saturday and some of Sunday since his office was moving. I could have rented a Harley and explored more of Arizona, but I really do not want to sit on an air-cooled engine producing heat from under me when the sun is beating down such heat from above. It’s just “too hot for fun.” Thus, I offered to do a number of home improvements for my buddy while remaining indoors and out of the sun, heat, and dryness.

I did take a nice break, though, to have lunch on Saturday with a former colleague who I worked with 20 years ago. It was great to catch up on each other’s lives.

While AZ or my other friend were driving me to various places, I saw a few bikers braving the heat. I was not surprised that almost all of them were in the same stage of unsafe undress: shorts, sneakers, t-shirt, and no helmet (there is no helmet law in Arizona). I know it is uncomfortable to ride a motorcycle in such heat and that is why those motorcycle operators wear light clothing like that and nothing on their head but perhaps a pair of sunglasses. However, personally, in my opinion, I would feel more uncomfortable if I were not wearing boots, long pants, and a helmet. Thus, if protective clothing made riding uncomfortable due to the heat, then I probably wouldn’t ride (or ride less often.) Again, this is my choice and my opinion.

I look forward to returning to cooler temperatures and more humidity. Funny, it is common to complain about the weather in the DC area, but I miss it. Gimme that cool, damp leather-weather and a warm snuggle in the arms of my man.

Life is short: appreciate what you have.