Appreciation is a lost art

That little nub in the middle of the photo is my neighbor's tree. It takes center stage in the view from our living room window. For more than a decade, my neighbor decorated it on the holidays with big, beautiful, old school C9 lights. It was a simple sprinkle of holiday cheer on a street where few houses take part in any outdoor festivity.

The lights were up year-round. My neighbor is not one to succumb to arbitrary suggestions to remove yard art according to the seasons. He embraces joy whenever he wants. 

Beyond the holidays, the lights would sometimes be on during early winter Kansas City storms, adding a little glee to a snow frenzy, or a flash of hope in a crashing spring thunderstorm.

Last month, the tree got whacked. I haven't seen my neighbor to ask why. One morning the tree appeared healthy and full; now it's a tall stub of wood, its bristly branches gone. Nowhere left to hang the lights, the electrified holiday cheer. 

Last night I noticed the tall stump had been modified. A brilliant blue Star of David perched at the very top, its homemade 2x4 trellis a masterpiece of scrap wood genius. It was simply beautiful. 

Little things serve to prompt appreciation. I appreciated that big, bristly evergreen. Yet, I appreciate it's new garb even more. What a great reminder to cherish and appreciate the things in life that you take for granted. Or those that you should.

I miss the tree, but its new purpose is even better.

Racing with Dreadlocks

"You race motorcycles?" they ask.
"Well, sure. If I can do it, you can too," I say. I tell them how my husband has been racing since '06, with me as pit crew and Gatorade concierge. I do PTA, I say, and motorcycle racing. I'd once thought Moms didn't race motorcycles. My vintage Honda Hawk cruiser had been my only two-wheel adventure.

Then, I saw a woman on the racetrack. Lots of women ride and race motorcycles; it's not exclusively a man's sport. But this racer was out there, holding her own with the rest of the racers. I wasn't at a place in the stands to watch her doing battle with anyone, but she was out there. It was cold and wet, and not conducive to spectating. I caught glimpses of her coming onto the long straight, dragging her knee, dreadlocks flying out from under the back of her helmet. 

She was racing. When she removed her helmet, the grin on her face told the story. I didn't know who she was, but she was pretty damn cool.

A few months later my husband and I ventured to Grattan Raceway to spend a week riding with friends. It was there that I was treated to a 2-up session on the track. Two-up is two riders on one bike, going fast, and, yes, dragging a knee in the turns. 

Bait taken; hook set. 

The desire for a bike of my own welled up inside. My husband was thrilled. He acquired a retired Yamaha FZR600 from a friend, cleaned her up, and within two months I was out on the track. Skittish as a new colt, I was simply happy to have graduated from the spectator club. I was on my own bike (MY. OWN. MOTORCYCLE.) hitting triple-digit speeds and freaking myself out. What a rush!

Soon race season came. The image of that racer, having the time of her life, dreadlocks flying, stayed with me. In a short time I earned my official race license. When they said I'd passed the test, I was giddy.  I couldn't wait to grid up with the others. Despite my enthusiasm, I came in dead last in every race I ran that season, probably even setting a record for being lapped. But I was a RACER. I never stopped smiling.

Recently, at an event at Heartland Park Topeka, I met up with friends from an online Women Road Racers group. It was great to put faces to names, and share hugs with women from all over the country. We told stories and encouraged one another to keep getting better and faster.

Later on, as I was browsing old pictures online,  I came across the image from my memory: a woman racer with dreadlocks dangling from under the back of her helmet. I cross-checked names. Without realizing it, I'd spent an hour the previous weekend chatting with my racing inspiration (she no longer has dreads). I sent her a thank you note. Racing is a small world.

As women, we tend to think our actions are self-contained. We often don't see ourselves inspiring others just by following our dreams. Even though I grew up in a motorcycle house, spent years riding a street bike, and worked on a pit crew, the idea of me actually racing a motorcycle was foreign. I know amazingly talented racers and I call them friends. But it was the sight of Ms. Dreadlocks (Jen, by the way) screaming down the straight that lit the spark to take this leap of confidence.

Now my 12-yr old daughter wants to race. I'm hoping I'm her inspiration, but know it could be anyone out there on the grid. I'm thrilled she's following her inspiration.

Life is good, but short

The past year has been an exercise in human emotional elasticity. From elation to devastation, if there is an emotion left to sample, I’ve not seen it. It’s left me pondering where I am, and how I can leave this world a better place.

Recently a high school acquaintance died unexpectedly. He was one of those young, healthy, and positive people that death snatches away with a snarl, leaving friends and family awash in disbelief and sadness.

In the wake of his passing, I’ve been re-evaluating my place in this world. I’m a mother, wife, daughter, and friend, but am I really doing my best at any of those? Am I doing my part to bring joy to those around me, or am I the one griping because gas is expensive, I’m unemployed, and my jeans don’t fit like they used to?

So, I re-drew my game plan. I took stock of my blessings and realized that yes, I'm doing okay, but could amp up my efforts. I owe it to those I love, and the world overall, to be a better person. But how do I do that?

My lifelong philosophy has been that at every opportunity, it's my duty to make someone's day better. Less fuss, more happiness. I'm not talking sappy, fake compliments or overcompensating by being extra super-duper helpful. But to be genuine. A compliment here, a helping hand there. Not because I HAVE to, but because I WANT to. Hold a door open, let someone merge in on the highway, say please and thank you.

I've tried to cultivate the ability to see good in most things. For example, we all encounter people who are crabby or unpleasant for what seems like no reason. Like the meme says, we never know what challenges each of us is facing on the inside. What may be easy to manage for me, may be overwhelming to another.  

The opposite is also true. I know I've been unintentionally beastly because something went wrong in my world: my car wouldn't start, the kids were out of control, someone I know was hurting and I couldn't help them, et al. I'm now more self-aware and do my best to maintain the vision that everyone is fighting a battle that we can't see (thank you again, Facebook inspirational quote posters). 

Here’s to a better me and hopefully, more joy to share with those I love.

Election Time!

Political speech is like children building sandcastles on a beach. One castle has a wide drawbridge that lets everyone in. The other castle has a broad moat that keeps bad guys out. While the children bicker over which castle is best, the winds of change blow the sand away. 

I'm still waiting for the kid with bricks and mortar who builds castles on common sense, not the shifting sands of passion and marketing.

It's the Last Day of October...holy cow

And now we begin that frighteningly, sickeningly fast slide into the holidays. I don't think I'm ready for this. I just found my Halloween decorations!  Think we're all set to go for tonight, though:

1 HALO 3 Master Chief Costume with matching super-cool helmet (CHECK)


1 Masked Banana Costume with an appropriately masked stuffed sidekick (CHECK)


1 Large Bowl of Assorted Candy that is not my favorite kind (CHECK)


Since my kids are preteens, this year may be my last chance to accompany them on their annual fall candy begging spree. I'm squelching my need for action pics this year. Just going to soak it all in. 

And, of course, sneak their candy when they're not looking.

Happy Halloween! May the goblins be few and the Snickers be plenty!

Boys vs Girls

The past 24 hours have been quite the learning experience for me in terms of the Tween Set.

Sleepover Wars: 11-year old Daughter vs. 13-year old Son

1.  The Sexes

Girls: Twister, Silly Bandz swapping, Rock Band on the Wii, and everything smells like flowers and candy. And most have brought either something flowery from Bath and Body Works or candy. To share.

Boys: loud, loud, messy, and LOUD. My house smells like sweaty frogs.  And Axe. I think that other smell was Axe. Or a dead animal.

2.  Snacks

Girls: share Krispy Kreme doughnuts, carefully dividing the ones they all want so everyone gets a bite.  

Boys: arm wrestle to the near-death for any glazed ring of goodness, no matter how many other perfectly edible doughnuts are left in the box. Then they crush their juice cups in victory.

3.  The Sleeping Part

Girls: sleep means dreaming about trips to Build-A-Bear and the new American Girl store.  

Boys: consider sleep unmanly. Who needs sleep when the world runs on sheer adrenaline, Airsoft guns, and LEGO bricks?

4.  Celebrities

Girls: lively debate on the whole Justin Bieber is awesome/lame debacle. 

Boys: everything is "beast", love Megan Fox and all want the new girl at school's phone number even though it's highly unlikely they'd actually have the courage to call. Girls are scary.

5.  Social Media

Girls: giggle about puppies memes and who knows whom on Instagram.  

Boys: post about wanting "hot" girlfriends even though they've never touched a member of the opposite sex.

6.  The Guest List
You can count on at least one child per sleepover who's next sleepover invitation will, unfortunately, get "lost in the mail". 

Girls: the individual may not become apparent until the morning after. The suitability gossip escalates with each departure.

Boys: it will evident the moment you let them in the front door.

I don't recall my brother ever having a sleepover with his pals, while mine were almost a weekly event. My mother was a wise tween mom.

Ch-ch-changes

What a morning! Wrapped up my last radio show and have called it a day. When the money crunchers slash budgets, what can you do? Cling to the sinking ship or swim for calmer waters. 

So, I'm swimming off to my next adventure: Marketing Director for Tornado Bait Racing, my husband's and my motorcycle race team!  Radio has been a fun ride, but sometimes you just have to call it like you see it.  I'm excited to be working again with people I love in a sport that makes my blood race, literally.  Motorcycle racing is more than just guys in leather pants going fast, you know. 

Thanks to all the friends and listeners I met through the years. You are the light that made the job worthwhile. I'm continually amazed by your kindness. I'll do my best to keep my blog updated, but would love to hear from you, too. 

Please do keep in touch. I'll be seeing you...here, there and on the racetrack! Ride safe. 

Where Did It Go?

I was up to my eyeballs in closet cleaning recently and came across a box of saved school work from my big girls, K and M. Artwork, spelling tests, and creative writing assignments were mixed in with the report cards and field trip fliers. The little kid handwriting, with its grammatical training wheels and misspelled words, brought little misty tears. 

Forgetting the self-inflicted pile of closet debris around me, I stepped into my personal time machine and took off.

K's "All About Me" poster was eerily foretelling. And M's birthday party pics captured her glee with ease. Time flies is truly the most accurate statement ever uttered. How could my precious little people, my motherhood guinea pigs, be all grown up now and out on their own? With ballet recitals and soccer games, cheerleading and SkillsUSA checked off on their TO DO lists, where did I fit into their world now? My heart ached and my eyes grew a bit more than misty. (I'm not crying, you're crying.) 

I took a moment, then carefully placed the papers and drawings and photos back in the box, checking to make sure no edges were bent or 3D art masterpieces crushed. Then I pushed it back into the closet and headed downstairs. 

My two youngest babies were playing Star Wars Legos in the front room and suddenly needed big hugs. Or was that me?

No one has ever died from a Dust Bunny attack

It's official. Days 1 and 2 of Operation New School Year launch can be crossed off the list. Day 3 has gotten off to a great start, too. I cannot believe my kids are growing up so fast. (I know, everyone says that.)

They look so big, and so Non-Little-Kiddish lately. It makes me sad and proud at the same time. All too often once the kids are off to school, we head back to the computer, throw in another load of laundry, or start working on something extra for the job.

STOP! I have to tell myself again and again. STOP and enjoy the kids while they're little. They need me now. IF I've done my job, someday soon they will be independent adults. And I'll be dusting an empty nest. Bittersweet.

No one ever died from an attack of dust bunnies. Those chores can wait. Work will be there tomorrow. Social media can survive without you. 

What once seemed like such a long time, now seems like my life has been on fast forward. Eighteen years will be the shortest longest time ever. Carpe diem! Before nostalgia seizes your heartstrings and tugs ever so gently.

(pic: my brother and me on the first day of school, circa 1975)

Tornado Nationals!!

AWESOME weekend! Ron & I took the kids out to the AMA Tornado Nationals at Heartland Park Topeka to see some motorcycle racing (yea, I know, shocking!). Really cool to see friends of ours mix it up with the big boys (and girls, in the case of Melissa Paris). John Deuser, Matt Hall & Jamie Hall raced well. They may not have had the big rig set-ups, but they did have some of the biggest cheering sections out there. Ron will be with them on the grid next season. Can't wait!

LOVED that the big name riders were so accessible and friendly. My son got his new hat signed by Jordan Motorsports riders Geoff May and Aaron Yates, and I snagged pics with my faves, Ducati rider Larry Pegram and Danny Eslick, along with Martin Cardenas, Roger Hayden, and Aaron Yates. Pegram even graciously signed T's hat after he won Sunday's Superbike race.

And check this: when we met Pegram on Saturday morning, I mentioned I worked in radio. He asked which station so he could listen while driving to the airport on Monday. When we saw him on Sunday, right after his second big win of the weekend, I said "Wow! Now I've REALLY got something to talk about on Monday." His reply: "On 98.1, right?" With everything he had on his mind, how in the world did he recall that?? Very cool guy. And I LOVE that he calls his wife right after each race. Gotta love it!

Equally cool: we bumped into racing legend Scott "Mr. Daytona" Russell strolling thru the paddock. Ron and our friend Greg Williams (owner of Cafe Racer, Inc) were a bit starstruck. I'm not as familiar with his racing feats as they are, but his commentary on SPEED TV with Ralph Shaheen is great. Quite a coup for us all.

Pretty great weekend all around. How was yours?

What's Your Passion?

Had you asked me 20 years ago what I would be doing for fun "when I grew up", I would have never imagined my reply would be "riding motorcycles". 

It's hard to put the allure and thrill of motorcycling into words. They just don't exist. Exhilarating. Unbelievable. It's more than that, to me anyway.

Lots of folks just smile politely and nod when I go on about my two-wheel addiction. That's alright. I'm sure their zeal for golf will always escape me, too. I respect that. (For the record, for me golf is only fun if it involves gnomes, windmills, and waterfalls.)

All I know is that I'm in good company with lots of people who get motorcycling. Whether you ride a Harley or a Honda, tour the backroads or drag a knee at the track, pilot your own ride or prefer a passenger seat perch, it's a sport that gets in your blood and never leaves. Know what I'm talking about? 

WHAT'S YOUR PASSION? To start you off, here are some pics from a recent trip with my fellow Motorcycle Addicts. Enjoy!

Motorcycle Addicts Days at Grattan 2009