We stood around the car talking tomatoes like farmers. What do you do about boring caterpillars? Walk away or change the subject? I thought but I guess they meant something different.
Just a scorching fast out and back up the Miccosukee Greenway sliding around the shell-covered turns hoping to not see a family of four, or a dog-walker around the next blind turn. Just four of us, an uneventful day except it is so unlikely to see the old BRC crew together again. All we needed was ole Tommy the Torso and it would have been a reunion.
I’ve got to take it easy! says one.
I thought we came out to ride! says another.
What about some fellowship? says Sasquatch.
I can take you all any time I want. thinks Juancho.
It’s getting so hot I could start riding naked, and this ain’t nothing yet, as we say all summer long.
4 old guys leaning on a Volvo talking about tomatoes, carbon fiber, and the weather. Yes ma’am, yes sir, a thrill a minute and punk rock still lives. Deep down inside our gluten-free hearts, just around the corner from Mortgage avenue, in a coldwater flat at the end of marriage and family way.
I hear ya on scattered crews. BC has not been en masse, in months. And when 3 or 4 do get together, it’s like old home day.
We always say this, but seriously, we gotta get together for a ride sometime.
Tomorrow is always a good time to ride.
Damn, I needed some of that discussion. I think my tomatoes have a terminal wilt.
Nice, nice words in this one me friend.
Just see what you are talking about in 20.
What Buzz said. And you don’t even WANT to know what your wives talk about.