Missing Person

You know recently I've found myself pining for the good old days. Some of the happiest times I can remember were right before they opened up my head, inserted a piece of stainless steel, and made the vorpal blade go snicker-snack! That did it for most of my memory - but even as my body rotted on that cold steel table and the life ebbed out of me I was already swinging my leg over the saddle of a piece of gasoline powered crack. In a deep coma I rode forever on sunny highways with beautiful yet surreal scenery in an eclectic dance with the thrumming machine. OK - well back to the point - I really miss Brother Crash - my life is missing that spark he always put into it. Maybe I'm just wallowing in self-pity and that maybe is more of a probably, but I never realized how much I would miss him when he left. You know it's actually fun to plan a day trip to Baton Rouge the long way and take 4 hours to cover 100 miles, or get woken up at 5am to ride to McDonald's for Bacon, Egg, and Cheese McGriddles - Just because they're tasty and because he just thought we needed to go for a ride. I remember thinking how much better I liked myself (at times) when he was around as he seemed to bring out a side fo me that was actually appealing. Of course I could be wrong about that, but then again I'm wrong about a lot of things. I keep hoping that maybe - Just maybe - he will eventually get away from his 7-9 office job and move home to teach at Tulane or UNO. Yes I said TEACH at a COLLEGE? I'm sure his classes are terribly interesting - with the class paying rapt attention as he lectures in chaps and a thong. - Oh that's a jpg I did not need. But I am finding myself wondering if the return of my other brother John from Denmark will culminate in his purchasing and revitalizing his own rat-like motley assemblage he will license as a motorcycle. But I'd settle for Brother Crash finding a house in Slidell and leaving the PRP (People's Republic of Pennsylvania). Especially, since when he comes down all he has to ride here is Deb's bike and he looks like a buffoon on it. I also want to see him back on a cruiser and putting "bitchpork" (his NightHawk 750) to the back of the garage. Oh well, I'm off to bed to try to think happy thoughts... It's like having a happy little puppy wanting to play all the time and yipping in such a way that you just can't refuse. It would be a bad thing if he wasn't a like a cheer grenade - Even my Krewe who won't allow anyone not completely straight let Crash in free and ask me to bring him because he makes the party fun. I think in a lot of ways he reminds me of the Cat in the Hat - and beware because he can quote Dr. Seuss better than his 5 year old niece...