CARPE FREAKIN DIEM

Heard two days ago that my long time friend who wants to remain nameless, but it’s Roy, had a heart attack while driving his truck home to visit. Nameless Roy is 52 years old or young depending on who is reading this and is not overweight or out of shape, anyway not from looking at him. Roy is going to survive, albeit with a new piece of plumbing in his heart. And let us not forget a certain bicycle racing friend, we'll call him Larry, who had a heart attack at age 47 and has since had both knees replaced. Their misfortune and cases similar have gotten me thinking , again. Our days are truly numbered and who knows when our lottery ball will be drawn. It is all too easy to take this life for granted and ignore our wake up calls. Just last week, Larry H. Miller, multimillionaire owner of the Utah Jazz, passed away due to complications with diabetes. Here is a guy with the world by the tail. He owns a major sporting franchise, his own hundred million dollar racetrack, and a collection of race cars that are second to none and he dies at sixty-four. I am sorry, but sixty-four ain’t old anymore. This isn’t the middle ages. It might seem old to all of the so called young, but this should be a wake up call to them as well. Yea, I know when you are in your twenties, you are pretty much immortal. Your thirties, semi-immortal. The forties are the years of feelin pretty good but gettin in touch with some unusual body sensations. You are not so suddenly aware of that fact that certain foods make your stomach growl, reading the paper or monitor makes you squint, and your muscles take longer to recover after anything remotely strenuous. Twenty and thirty year old people take note: YOU WILL BE FORTY BEFORE YOU CAN BLINK. Forty seems to scare the hell out of people but always remember that it is better than being dead. And it is better than being fifty, sixty or seventy if you are so blessed to get that far.
I am fast approaching my fifty-seventh trip around the sun and seeing sixty at the end of the straightaway. And that’s ok. I thank God I’m fifty-six and can get out of bed every morning and go to work. It really doesn’t matter how stressful I know the day might be, I’m alive. And I know plenty of people that aren’t. And I don’t mean just dead people, but people that might as well be. I fall into it. I catch myself watching too much tv not paying attention to the real people and things around me. But it never goes unnoticed by me and I make a plan to be better. Doesn’t always happen but I try.
Anyway, I am trying to keep my plate full. I am still trying to teach myself how to play the guitar, with very little success I must add. Just completed rebuilding my 73 Bultaco race bike with the intention of doing some vintage racing. Still completely obsessed with bass fishing and Lake Powell. Goin there today and we are only a month or so away from the pre-spawn. Holy cow, I can’t wait. And then I have my Alpine Loop Raceway which will open as soon as the snow melts. This will be my first time on my private race track on the Hypermotard. I am quite sure I will post a new personal best and maybe a new world record for the ascent.
The point of all of the above bullshit is that we are all living our lives in the bonus round. We really don’t know what tomorrow will bring and we had better not take a single day for granted.
We owe it to not only to ourselves but to all of the people who would give anything to have the healthy bodies that we have but don’t. Get out and do something. Have more fun.