Hailwood1965

Day one with a rough CBX. The Minnesota State Highway Patrolman stepped back and looked at the giant hulk in the back of my son's truck. Ready to give him a speeding ticket the highway patrolman looked at the six cylinder powered beast for a few moments and asked what I learned was a popular question: "Does it run?" A 1979 Honda CBX popped up on a CL ad last month and we jumped in the truck to take a look. I spoke with the owner via phone and asked him the Big Question: "Does it run?" No, not now. But it WILL run someday, he said. Marion Minnesota is not an unknown location for me. It is home to Wheels Unlimited, probably the last 'no internet' Ducati dealership in the US. In fact Ducati USA dropped Wheels because the owner/brothers refused on principle to get a computer in order to relay parts orders. It wasn't the brothers who had the CBX, but a neighbor. He'd bought it from the original owner and tried to begin a restoration but was ...

"I bought a new snow shovel today," I told Toby (6). "It's my Christmas present to myself." Did you buy it at Menards, he asked suspciously. Yes, I did. Does it have a yellow handle? Yes it does. It's in the garage, he said. Yes, it is. I put it there. Did you buy it at the garden center at Menards? No, I bought it inside, where they are displaying the snow shovels. Did you look at the shovels in the garden center? Sigh. No, I did not. The garden center is unheated and this is Minnesota and it was cold. You should have looked in the garden center, when I looked there last summer they had a bunch of nice shovels. I opened my mouth to ask what six year old kid remembers the quality of shovels from six months ago, but I just closed my face instead.

Apparently, my old next door neighbor, Jerry Moynihan, recently died. Jerry and his wife, Deb, who works for the state of Minnesota, moved away and I guess were then divorced at the same time of the move, a few years ago. Before that Jerry lived right next door to me, within 35 feet of me, for at least five or six years, maybe longer. I can't decide which I find more shocking: That Jerry was only 60 years old. Or That people who presumably knew Jerry describe him now using the terms "good friend" or "funny, big-hearted" or compliment him on his talent and "beautiful voice". I take this from Jerry's Legacy.com page. At first I thought the postings were for some other guy or were tongue in cheek. They DO seem to be from people who, CLEARLY knew Jerry at another time in his life, not in the last 5-6-7 years. Because if they did I bet they would not be using glowing terms like "big hearted" or "funny" to describe him. I r...

" Well this could be the last time ..." --Rolling Stones We walked Toby into school this morning, the very first day of first grade for him. It's serious now. School all day, five days a week. Tests. Bullies. Girls.  It's not like this is the very first day he's been in school--he's went to pre-school and kindergarten for the past three years, I think. He's been reading since he was three and is really super-bright. But that was out at noon and only every other day.  I was super bummed out about this as I lay there looking at the ceiling for hours this morning making myself one with insomnia for the millionth time. I guess at this point Toby being in first grade does mean probably that I won't be raising any more toddlers in my life, aside from grandchildren or unless I slip one past the goalposts in the next few years.  I didn't have a dad for very long so this whole dad business, for me, has been like trying to jump off a train correctly....

I noticed the other day that I hadn't seen a "Lois Jurgens" around in a while, this after seeing fewer of them as the years pass. "Lois Jurgens" is the blanket name I gave any older woman I saw, women from another era.  Between my office and the coffee shop sits a very previous era women's beauty shop. Where it used to be that Red Wing had one of these on just about any street downtown and they were all busy, now there is, I think, just one. The clientele is very silver-haired, with more walkers than canes. These women come from a time when all women "made an appointment at the beauty shop" and had their hair done once a week or so. My grandma, in the 1970s, would have a "wash and set" at a beauty shop while my grandpa and I sat in the old Dodge and waited for her. Honestly, I am unclear on what services are performed in the beauty shop by my office. All I do know is that when I am making a run back to the office with a coffee--fine, ...

When I raced, and that phrase may give readers the impression I am fast, and I do wish it were true, but other than for a few weeks in the summer of 1989 I was not ... however I did club race in the 1980s and when I did one of the things we were known for, my friends and I, was seriously over-packing. That sentence over, that we were serious over-packers when we loading the race vans started to become obvious to me when, for one event at Road America or somewhere, we actually brought two sets of acetylene torches with us. Not one set that was low on gas so throw in the other set too, no, just two FULL sets, both full of gas. Because we could. How often did we gas weld things at the track? Well, that I remember, never. In fact I never saw anyone really weld anything at the track after like 1992 until I watched Rich Oliver flame glue some TZ250 pipes at Brainerd in something like 1997. One thing that still hangs with me is the ability to over-pack, even today. Over-filli...

The above admittedly bad cam phone pic is Toby a few weeks ago standing in front of his bedroom door. There had been some sort of dispute between brothers and Toby had made a sign on his door barring all persons with the name Kipp from entering. Needless to say, incidents like this are not rare at my house. This one has a funny little back story. In this picture, if you look closely, the stick figure of Kipp is drawn with a sad face. In four year old Toby's world, this is amongst the worst things that one can say (or write) about another--that he or she is unhappy. People who are unhappy are not fun. They do not do fun things. Also, he runs around shouting "focus!" all the time now.