Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle - yeah.

My day started out working on a dragster, progressed to a POW faring design, transitioned on to a reaper gas tank and then landed on an clown skull panel that has been kicking around for a few months.  The clown was supposed to be my veg-out/fun project before bed when it hit me that it’s Thursday and I have a post due!

It’s nice to be busy but I’m trying to keep priorities in line…  Besides, it’s hard to be too serious about translating HOG designs (*I actually painted a flaming pig head this week - so, yes, the pride-swallowing does continue…) when your kids are singing; “I’m sexy and I know it!” in the back seat of the car on the way to school. My initial smile did, however, transition to a bit of an awkward grimace when I had to try and explain the concept of ’sexy’ to them.  Dr. Spock was nowhere to be found as I stammered and fumbled my way through that one…  Ugh.

George redeemed himself a little today in the Rocker department though when, out of the blue, he belted out: “I’m goin off the rails on a crazy traaaain.” I have to admit it was a ‘Proud Papa’ moment for me and it brought back a flood of memories of how many times I had belted out that very verse with reckless, head-banging abandon.  I was even more relieved when I didn’t have to explain why Ozzy Osbourne isn’t dead despite the fact that he has excessively used and abused pretty much every stimulant/retardant/drug known to man.

Why I say this is, after hearing certain songs via Guitar Hero and on the radio - and me promising to take them to an actual concert soon; they’d asked if we could go see the guy who sings ‘Bodies’ perform in person. I said we can’t see ‘him’ (dead from overdose) but we could still see the band.  Drowning Pool being a band of choice for myself and I, not wanting to lie to my children, then tried to explain that he was dead and that taking too many drugs can kill you.  And then, of course, spent the next 15 minutes trying to explain what drugs are and why people take would want to take them if they could kill you.  Shoulda saw that one coming…  duh.

So now…  Whenever a song comes on the radio, I am typically asked: 1) Whether or not the singer is dead from drugs (which you may well be surprised how many times the answer is: “Yes”!!!) and then 2) can they can see the band in person?

I suppose all I can do is keep doing my best to deal with the pressing discussions of sexiness and drugs with my +/- 7 year olds…  And I guess I am grateful they are still looking to me for answers to their questions when it doesn’t appear society in general has figured much of this out.  But this way I can ensure sincerity, honesty, genuine concern (despite the awkwardness) can still stay in the equation.

I’ll continue to do my best to play the role of navigator and guide for as long as they allow me to - but it is a little odd (and kinda disconcerting at times) to think that LMFAO, Drowning Pool and Ozzy may have just as many answers for them in their music as I do from the drivers seat.

Thanks for reading!!!  Hope you’ve had a good week!

Rod

　

Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.

There’s a group of dudes who get together in a park by our house every so often and beat the hell outta each other with foam swords. I’m not sure how I feel about that - and am doing my best to temper my snap judgments with the fact that they sure look like they are having a lot of fun. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I may even want to go and borrow one of their padded instruments of mass whacking.

It’s probably the same sort of feeling the young kids I went to watch play in their metal band last Saturday night get when they vent all their frustrations into a microphone (or instrument.) I couldn’t really understand exactly why they were so angry but sure admire the way they’ve chosen to release it. It was a rhythmic, heavy assault on my senses that left me both energized and, for lack of a better word; pumped. And, for a bunch of guys who were really, really mad at the world - they sure seemed happy.

As tempting, and therapeutic, as it may be to go through life with an awesomely modified floatation device of terror; I do think it might be a little hard to explain it to my kids. And I doubt anyone would want to listen to me screaming into a microphone about the high price of clear coat and/or finicky, indecisive customers.

So I’m left to figure out a direction where my pressure valve should be aimed for release. So far, introspection and alcohol seem to be the only real avenues I’ve found. But I’m starting to think I may just need to get out more. Maybe I’ll stumble on to something on my way to go watch some more angry 20 year olds yelling at me because of how I somehow screwed up their world… Or who knows?! maybe happiness will come if don some tights and swing a pool noodle at someones head… Either way it should be an enjoyable pursuit.


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Work has continued at a snails pace as I’m still on the rollercoaster of recovering from the worst flu I’ve had in years. It has completely sucked all the life out of me and I am left clinging to the fact that I am now three weeks behind on my projects. I’m hoping to make back up some time but it sure has been an uphill battle around here lately.

One project that stands out is a raven I put on sportster fender… It was difficult to compose and paint a big, moonlit, black bird on such a narrow surface but I’ve really enjoyed this one more than most (the picture is kinda crappy.) He may even end up translated into a tattoo at some point.

Anyways…. Thanks for reading!!! I hope you’ve had a good week - sincerely!

Rod

Happy we don't have a woodshed...

Cherie has been back for close to two weeks now and I’ve been suffering some variation of malady ever since. I’m not necessarily saying the two are related - but the coincidence does have me suspicious. The last four or five days in particular have been a dizzying descent into a flurry of flu symptoms that had put a serious damper on enjoying the spring-like weather. But we woke up to a frikken foot of snow on the ground this morning and I can now say that the weather outside is officially matching the health of most of the people inside our house right now: blah.

I’ve been hoping to have peaked out every day this week only to have a new set of symptoms plaguing me the next morning. But most of all, it’s got me feeling ’homesick’. Or, to put a finer point on it; kinda even wishing my Mom would come visit me.   

Cherie is my best friend, biggest supporter, and intellectual challenger in more instances than I’ll ever openly admit to… But when it comes to ‘TLC’, at least where I am concerned, she typically subscribes to the “Suck it Up, Princess” treatment plan. (And for some inexplicable bloody reason, we ALWAYS seem to end up at &*^% Wal-Mart… Ugh.)

I’ll be completely honest and admit to regressing to the co-dependency of a four year old the second I get anything more significant than a sniffle. But, if I was a racehorse, I would definitely be hiding the ammunition around here right now!! I don’t think I would be put out to pasture as much as I may well be put into the pasture.

So I guess it goes without saying that I am still a Momma’s boy. But, sick or not, I suppose I can still feel lucky that I’ve got all my bases covered - even if by it is by different people at different times. (And maybe even a little lucky that I’m pretty sure Cherie doesn‘t have easy access to a firearm here.)

Hope you’ve had a good week!

Rod