It Goes Where I Go, Part II: The Soundtrack of a Lived Life
Music has always been the pulse of my life — from my dad’s old record cabinet to the roar of Judas Priest echoing through an arena. Somewhere along the way, my father’s house fell silent, but I can’t let that happen to me. I sing at the top of my lungs when I ride, because every note is a reminder that I’m still here — still breathing, still living, still loud.
It Goes Where I Go
People love to ask questions. Some are born of curiosity, some from awe — and some from pure, unfiltered stupidity. Like asking if I “rode in today” when I’m standing there in chaps, leather, and helmet hair. For me, riding isn’t a hobby; it’s oxygen. It’s the pulse under my skin. It’s what makes the world go silent and my soul come alive.
American Roulette
A cold morning ride, coffee with a colleague, and a breakfast date that turned into a protest invite — another reminder that dating in your fifties is American Roulette, and I’m better off riding solo.
Rolling Stops and Righteous Fools
Motorcyclists live in a world full of backseat drivers and badge-wielding experts who don’t know the first thing about the ride. Two stories, one truth: people love to police what they don’t understand — but sometimes, justice still rolls on two wheels.
15 Things Car Drivers Need to Know About Motorcycles
Every biker has that story — the car that cuts us off, the driver texting through traffic, the brake-check that nearly takes our life. Here’s what car drivers need to understand about why we ride the way we do — and why your little mistake could cost us everything.