I'm Next
A slow grocery-store checkout line shouldn’t become a test of human decency, but apparently that’s where we are. One woman thought I looked intimidating. Another thought she could maneuver around me and jump ahead. She was wrong.
Sometimes fairness is simple: if you were there first, you’re next.
Three Things
Sometimes life has a funny way of reminding you what actually matters.
I thought I was leaving for Colorado on one motorcycle. Instead, a text message changed the entire weekend. Nyx was ready. The repairs were finished. The upgrades were done. And somewhere between picking up my bike and twisting the throttle for the first time, I realized my life had quietly become much simpler than I ever imagined.
There are only three things that truly matter anymore.
The People Who Earn It
Lately I've written a lot about people and institutions that have disappointed me. Cities. Leadership. Bureaucracy. Systems that somehow make simple things harder than they need to be.
Then my motorcycle broke down.
What should have been another frustrating experience became a reminder that there are still people out there who quietly earn your trust one honest conversation, one repaired machine, and one kept promise at a time.
I Came Back
You spend years building a career, convinced that one day you'll finally earn a seat at the table. Then one morning you realize you've been standing outside the conference room the whole time.
I left an organization years ago because I believed it had become a good old boys club. Fifteen years later, I came back believing it had changed. This is the story of what happens when the place you wanted to finish your career starts feeling painfully familiar again.
Artificial Intelligence, My Ass
I spent forty-five minutes arguing with an artificial intelligence about my writing, only to discover that the thing computers have been good at for eighty years, counting characters, was apparently too much to ask. If I wanted confidently wrong answers, I already know plenty of humans.
Fair-Weather Riders
I used to think every motorcyclist felt the same pull I do: the need to ride every chance they get. Then I realized that not everyone finds the same thing in two wheels. For some it's a hobby. For me, it's home.
Done Waiting
Eight months is long enough. Long enough to wait. Long enough to trust the process. Long enough to hope someone else would ask the hard questions. Tonight, I decided I'm done waiting. If nobody else is willing to fight for motorcycle safety and accountability, then I'll do it myself.
Two Truths
Love isn't finding someone who always agrees with you. It's finding someone whose perspective is different enough to challenge your own, and caring enough to listen when you get it wrong. Our first disagreement wasn't a crack in the foundation. It was another brick laid with honesty, humility, and a willingness to grow together.
What the Actual Fuck
What would the Founding Fathers think if they woke up in modern America? Would they recognize the nation they fought to create, or would they wonder how a people born in liberty became so comfortable asking permission? This Independence Day, I found myself asking a question that refuses to leave me alone.
Independence
Some weekends change your life in quiet ways. This one is filled with firsts: our first real road trip together, my first morning writing while she sleeps peacefully nearby, and most importantly, the day she claims her own freedom by buying her first motorcycle. There couldn't be a more fitting day than Independence Day.
Choosing Each Other
The day began with a broken water line and the sinking feeling that comes from being hundreds of miles away when someone you love needs you. But by the end of the weekend, none of that would matter. Because some people don't just choose to spend time with you. They choose to build a life beside you.
We Are the Same
Some people think becoming a rider starts the day you buy your first motorcycle. I don't. I think the motorcycle is just paperwork. The rider was already there. This weekend, the woman I love gets her first bike, and I already know exactly what's about to happen.
We Are Not the Same
Apparently someone got jealous after seeing my girlfriend on the back of my Harley. But they missed the point entirely. Motorcycles aren't about impressing people or collecting passengers. They're about freedom. And the best part isn't that she's riding behind me today... it's that she'll soon be riding beside me on her own bike.
The Price of Going Home
The ride home was brutal. Triple-digit heat. Relentless crosswinds. Bugs. A lost wallet somewhere in southern Colorado. And yet, not once during those long miles did I wish I hadn't gone. Some journeys are worth every inconvenience because of who's waiting at the other end.
Fifty-Four
A freezing ride through rain, hail, and wind should have been the story of my birthday weekend. Instead, somewhere between New Mexico and Colorado, I realized something far more important: after a lifetime of surviving, I've finally given myself permission to be happy.
Aggressive Isn't Reckless
People hear that I ride aggressively and assume I'm reckless. Those aren't the same thing. Since my accident, I ride with one overriding goal: I refuse to let myself get trapped in a pack of cars. My life literally depends on creating space.
The Best Laid Plans
The plan was simple: breakfast at Pantry Dos, point Nyx north, and ride to Colorado to see my girlfriend. Then the throttle died, the starter spun, and my beautifully orchestrated weekend turned into trailers, logistics, and a different Harley. But the destination never changed.
We Speak the Same Language
There are some things in life that can't be explained. They can only be understood by someone who's walked the same road. After years of believing recovery was a path I had to walk alone, I finally met someone who already spoke the language my soul had been trying to translate.
The Door Was Already There
She kept telling me this was just the honeymoon phase. That eventually we'd settle down and those overwhelming feelings would fade. I don't think she's right. Not because I believe infatuation lasts forever. Because I don't think this is infatuation. I think we simply opened a door and discovered love had been patiently waiting for us all along.