A minute holds them, who have come to go:
The self-defined, astride the created will
They burst away; the towns they travel through
Are home for neither bird nor holiness,
For birds and saints complete their purposes.
At worst, one is in motion; and at best,
Reaching no absolute, in which to rest,
One is always nearer by not keeping still.
— On the Move by Thom Gunn |
WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2001-2022
Gerard Van der Leun
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I
reach my hands and play with pebbles of
destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs
reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive
in the universe.
Comments on this entry are closed.
Dream, love our dreams. I had the honor of working at a Vintage Motocross Race over the past weekend, on my friends ranch, out of Alturas Calif. due to a new hip I could not ride, so I did the next reasonable thing, I flagged corners, started the races, and kept scores.
168 motocrossers average age 62, max was 87. We had some kids, from 45 to 60 aswell.
Sat was a trials event, 63 riders, I flagged on a side hill, kept score in my section.
Sat Afternoon a Cross Country Event, 61 riders. 75/82 miles an hour,,,,wide open on vintage 1960 to 1977 motorcycles., thru freshly cut hay fields. Across the river a few times,
Couple of nasty crash’s, all those who crashed said see you beginning of next AHRMA season.
Talk about recreating one’s youth! These ol boys many not walk very steady, or a straight like. Put em on their vintage motorcycles, you best get out of the way, these boy think their in their 20s again.
We last Ernie a few weeks ago, racing up in Eugene OREGON. Ernie was on a 1973 380 CZ, leading his race, his best friend in the world right on his ass. The jump was constructed for a more modern motorcycle,
Ernie went over the handlebars, his best friend center punched him while both were in the air. Ernie broke a rib, which went thru his heart. He was dead about the time he quit tumbling.
We toasted Ernie Sat night we’ll all see him on the track some day. Honestly I can’t think of a better way to die, then doing what you love, which is racing a motorcycle at crazy speeds.
Life is good, ride it like you stole it.
Dirk
Had to quit watching half way through. I had a brief flash of a thought, “Fred [my brother] would get a kick out of this before remembering he died last July.
“Dum Vivimas, Vivamus”
(“While we live, let us LIVE”)
I saw this film years ago. I thought it was going to be like, “oh, look at the cute, spunky old people” but it went much deeper than that. Not deep enough to get me on a cycle, motorized or un-.
I showed this video to every 8th grade class I taught during my 15 years of teaching in Oklahoma City. The message in that video convinced me to take an early retirement at 66, and get on with whatever I have planned for the rest of my life. Now 3 years later, I regret nothing. Carpe diem.
And I might add that any man who is not in tears at the end of this video knows nothing of Life. Nothing of Love. Nothing of friendship. Nothing of why he lives.
The purpose of life is to live. Get on with it then. Making excuses is for children. No one wants to hear what you can’t do. We all want to hear what you did do.