Why I Ride

I grew up in Cheyenne, WY (population 50,000, give or take). I had ridden a small motorcycle as a teenager on our country roads and through the fields near my home. My friends and I had spent endless days exploring the prairie, speeding down cow paths barely wide enough for our tires and loving every minute. We knew no fear. It makes me sad to see kids today who won’t leave their rooms or game consoles to spend time outdoors. I also owe my parents a big thanks for letting me do things like riding a motorcycle.

My parents sold those bikes before I was even old enough to ride them legally. Other than a very short time when I rode a boyfriend's bike in college, I hadn't really ridden since. I didn’t give up my sense of adventure though. I was the first in my family to graduate college. I was then commissioned an officer in the Marine Corps. After serving in the Marines, I took a job in Germany and another in Japan. I met my husband in Okinawa (he was stationed there with the Navy). We moved back to the states and his son came to live with us. We settle into typical family life. We bounced around the country after he retired and never seriously considered buying bikes although we both had very fond memories of our youthful adventures. We just muttered a random “I’d sure like to have a motorcycle” now and then and that was it. Years passed quickly.

Once you’ve been a Marine and world-traveler, the ordinary routine of family life can be a pretty staid existence. I was constantly bored and couldn’t put my finger on what I could do for fun that didn’t require sacrificing too much, personally or financially. I had always had riding again in the back of my mind. As my husband was preparing to return from his third year in Iraq, I signed us up for a motorcycle safety course. He hated the course. I loved it. (I highly recommend EVERYONE take one.) We bought our first bikes a few weeks later. We swore we’d never be Harley people. Overpriced, buying a name, too kitschy, yada yada yada. We had all these reasons Harleys weren’t for us. I loved riding but my first bike, a Honda Shadow 600 but it was too underpowered. I never felt 100% comfortable on the Yamaha Virago 750 I’d purchased next. It just didn’t hold the road well. It was fine for riding to work and back and I did a lot of that.

This spring the hubby joined an Motorcycle Club (MC). He then surprised the crud out of me when he bought a Harley, a 2000 Softail Heritage Classic. He was planning a road trip with his "gang" (my teasing term for his MC) and knew his 1979 Yamaha wouldn’t cut it.

During this same time frame, we moved to a new home on miles of bad asphalt and dirt roads. My Yamaha really wasn’t up to handling the trip. I actually worried I would have to give up riding because I was so scared on those roads. The hubby was preparing for his second club road trip and loving his bike so I went to see the local Harley dealer. I drove several bikes and liked them all but none were “the one”. As I was about to give up in frustration, the salesman remembered a 2003 Super Glide they had taken in trade that was in the back room still. I liked the sleeker lines and smaller appearance but great power of the Glide. I test rode it and bought it that day. Within a month, I had 1,000 miles on it.

Despite all this new found love of riding, I was less than enthusiastic when the hubby wanted to go to Sturgis. He had a friend from Iraq who was going with his wife and they’d invited us to join them. I was so sure I’d hate everything about Sturgis (like I said it had been years since I’d been adventurous!) that I made arrangements to use friend’s cabin nearby. My plan was to stay at the cabin while they did whatever people do at Sturgis, like get drunk and become idiots. Right? I never made it to the cabin. It turns out you can make Sturgis fit what you want to do. You can have a blast without getting drunk or naked! Every day was another ride to another beautiful location and time spent doing something I loved with great people. We even met up with the hubby’s half-brother he’d never met. His brother and his friends were fabulous and we loved spending time with them! We’re really hoping to be able to make it again in 2012!
The only negative of the whole week? The hubby’s bike was leaking gas and oil like crazy from a crash he’d had weeks before on a road trip. Thankfully he and his friend were basically unharmed when a driver with a large trailer did a spontaneous U-turn in front of them. They both hit the trailer and the bikes went down. They were even to drive the 1,000 plus miles home on their bikes. Time was taking its toll though and the small cracks in both the oil and gas tanks were expanding. By the time we hit Sturgis they were leaking like sieves. We took his bike to the shop and I spent the week riding the back seat of my own bike. Dang macho men! So another reason I’m looking forward to Sturgis next year is to have the chance to actually drive the Black Hills!

Even someone who’d led an adventurous life, like I had, can have fears of riding. I’ve put down (aka crashed) the bike I road in the training class and my Yamaha twice (all at very slow speeds luckily) and it hurt. My pride was hurt even more than the aches and pains in my body. The last time was in the parking lot of the local restaurant a lot of bikers frequent. I turned too tight on the dirt and lost control. I was mortified to be seen by all those other bikers. I cried from humiliation more than pain. The restaurant was miles from town so I either had to get back on and drive home or call for a ride. Deeming that a) calling for the ride would be embarrassing of itself and b) it was about damn time to reclaim my tough girl attitudes of my youth, I climbed back on. Even after the ride home, I started to really wonder if I just sucked at riding and would never get good at it. I am so glad I got back on and didn’t let my wounded pride and embarrassment deter me from riding. (As an aside, I have to say, it’s really important to find the right bike. The hard part is getting the required experience to know what’s “right”. I’ve never even scared myself with my Harley. I’ve never come close to dumping it. It handles so much better than anything I’ve ever driven. And to think I was initially afraid of the weight and power of a bigger bike and now find both those things very reassuring.)

As a REALTOR®, I was worried to ride my bike to home showings. What would people think? Would they be put off? I don’t think anyone has been. If anything, they probably remember me more because of the bike.

Nothing feels as good as riding and I would never voluntarily give my bike up. In the four months of good weather I had after buying my bike, I put more than 4,000 miles on it. We rode yesterday, December 26th in 40+ mile per hour winds and 40 degree temperatures. I’m so glad I quit worrying about whether I could do it and do it well or what people would think about a fifty year old, overweight woman riding, and just did it! I really hope that every woman will follow her heart and quiet those nagging voices. Find your joy, find the right bike and just enjoy yourself!

Vampires, Werewolves & Fairies. Oh My!: A four-time RITA® Award nominee and Golden Heart® ...

Vampires, Werewolves & Fairies. Oh My!: A four-time RITA® Award nominee and Golden Heart® ...: 1.        Let's talk about your Soulfire series. Tell us a little bit about each book for our followers that haven’t had the pleasure of rea...

8 Tips to Add Curb Appeal to Your Home

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  Appraisers and real estate agents offer advice for adding curb appeal that both preserves value and attracts potential buyers. Read

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Copyright 2011 NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF REALTORS®

I Wanna Be a Tough B....

I've been reading Tara Janzen's books. I am absolutely in love with all the Steele Streets guys and want to be one of the girls. Like my semi-namesake Skeeter Jeanne Bang Hart. She's tough, buff and kick ass. It's been 20+ years since I spent my brief time in the Marine Corps and could qualify as any of those things. I've become the biggest, fattest couch potato. So much so that I'm embarrassed to tell people I'm a former Marine.

Can I, at far too close to fifty years old, become a kick ass woman? And if I did what would I do with it? The Marines don't want old women no matter how buff. Maybe I could become a cop but they typically don't have the kind of challenges the Steele Street gang faces and again age is a big negative. The Steele Street guys aren't answering barking dog calls, stopping drunk drivers or breaking up bar fights. They're running secret operations - spy type stuff.

So, I'm working out but have a long way to buff. I'm anxious to get some time in firing my weapons (at least I know how to do that!). But for what purpose?

Is being 50 just the ultimate indication that I have no chance of a life of intrigue, excitement and challenge? I'm so afraid that it is. Is there is no real future even if I get back in shape? God, I hate getting old.

(There Mary, something to read!)

Romance Novels and Real Life

An acquaintance, Kathryn Caskie, who writes wonderful romance novels asked in her blog recently for her readers to share their romance a-ha moments, the moment they knew they were in love. I wrote the following.

Sadly, I don't remember an a-ha moment from when my husband and I first dated and married but after more than 18 years, I've recently had a knocked you down/oh my gosh/true epiphany “a-ha” moment. I read a lot of romances and always wondered why my hubby was never as romantic as the guys in the books. It was depressing that maybe I hadn't waited for the "perfect guy". Maybe another man would always remember my birthday, get along with my family better, know when I was sad and needed a hug without me having to ask, say the perfect thing to restore my ailing self-esteem when appropriate, etc. One day, I got the slap on the face I needed. I'm not sure where it came from and I'm not ruling out divine intervention or some similar phenomenon. I realized that those guys in the books are only perfect because we believe. The authors write them perfect and more importantly we READ them perfect. (Romance is easy on paper when real life isn't getting in the way.) The real question is why we don’t see our guys as perfect, or more perfect. Like Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman, the bad stuff is easier to believe. It was suddenly so simple. If I changed my focus to my hubby’s best qualities, he too would look amazing. If I fawn over the things he does for me for no special reason or that he is loving, faithful, responsible, sometimes funny and always sexy, then he IS my Prince Charming. All it takes to have the man of your dreams is to define the man you have by his qualities, those you most treasure, and quit worrying about the stuff that doesn’t really matter. Subsequently, I am more in love with my hubby now than ever.

Jeanne Hunter is now a REALTOR e-PRO® Agent Utilizing Technology To Provide Consumers With State-of-the-Art Services

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“The real estate industry has undergone a fundamental change over the past five years,” Hunter said. “Today, more than 70% of all buyers and sellers begin their search online. As an e-PRO certified agent, I have knowledge and tools needed to provide my clients with the information they need and the customer service they demand. It’s both hi-tech and hi-touch.”

The REALTOR e-PRO® certification course is an educational program unlike any other professional certification or designation course available, comprehensive and interactive. It is specifically designed to provide real estate professionals with the technology tools needed to assist consumers in the purchase or sale of a home.

The exclusive REALTOR e-PRO® certification course is presented entirely online and certifies real estate agents and brokers as Internet professionals. The course is designed to help REALTORS® stay at the leading edge of technology and identify, evaluate and implement new Internet business models.

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Why do you expect me to take much more care with my dog that’s in heat than my neighbor does of her sixteen year old daughter?
My dog is in heat. She’s sticking her swollen, throbbing vejayjay (like that? I stole it from Grey’s Anatomy) in our other dog’s (also a female) face. I’ve seen her trying to temp the cat, at least he’s male. She’s so desperate to get laid. Of course, as a conscientious pet-mom, I am making sure she doesn’t wantonly breed with any male that will have her.
Yesterday, I saw a TV ad to spay or neuter your pets. You’ve seen those dozens, hundreds, even thousands of times. Have you ever seen these ads and thought, “Hey that’s a horrible idea? How can you take that poor bitch’s right to chose from her?” No, I’d venture you never have. I haven’t either. You probably thought to yourself, “Hey, that’s a really good idea, very responsible dog-parenting.” Because, after all, we have too many strays running around, abandoned by their owners and their communities. A quick Google search, brought up numerous articles, blogs and op-eds on the topic of mandatory spay/neuter programs. As a rule, people who work in animal shelters complain of irresponsible pet owners who allow their animals to have unwanted litters and end up in these shelters. Cities across the nation have instituted 100% spay/neutering laws or are considering them. Reports indicate drastic decreases in unwanted animal populations since San Francisco instituted its law.
I’m still not going to have my dog spade. Why do we assume the only way to keep a dog or cat from having unwanted offspring is to spay or neuter? Why not institute a hefty fine for people who do not ensure their pets remain celibate? Why not run dozens, hundreds, even thousands of ads imploring people to not let their animals breed randomly? Where is the human responsibility in all this?
My idea of being a responsible pet owner is to keep vigilant eye on my little girl the entire time she’s in heat. For those two miserable weeks, two or three times a year, I’ll let her out of the house only when necessary, in our fenced back yard and never without me here to watch her. Through this attentiveness, I will ensure that she doesn’t run out of the fence and does not invite unwanted males in to play. I am 100% certain I can prevent her from ever having an unwanted litter of little bastard puppies through my constant vigilance.
In a recent blog over the controversy in Chicago to legally mandate pet neutering one writer opined – “No pet "needs" to reproduce to live a long and healthy life. In fact, with both dogs and cats, many undesirable behaviors go away when they are neutered or spayed. Most animal shelters offer low to no fee neuter/spay and often the animal is fully recovered in a day or two.”
But alas, my little bitch is only a small part of my frustration. My real anger comes from that fact that I take far better care of my dog than my neighbor does her teenage daughter. Not only is she allowed to breed wantonly, but her mother has allowed the sixteen year old girl’s twenty-three year old boyfriend to move into their home, into her daughter’s bedroom. Rumor and speculation, this is not. She told me outright. She showed no hint of moral dilemma over the situation despite teaching Sunday School each week at a very orthodox Christian church. Why am I careful whom I admit I’ve not had my dog spade when it’s perfectly acceptable in today’s society to all our young daughters to run around randy and unsupervised? Why does society look at me and “tsk, tsk” my pet-parenting and not a soul will stand up to this woman and protest her situation? Honestly, I didn’t say a word to her. I hoped my face projected a somewhat stern disapproval that remained unspoken as I told her we didn’t even allow our adult daughter’s fiancé of three years to sleep in her room.
In this particular case, I believe the single mother of four is trying too hard to not “lose” her daughter. Her eldest child, a son, is now married and doesn’t speak to her. According to her, he feels his mother was a bad parent and therefore he wants nothing to do with her. Her fear of losing her three other children, guilt over marrying the wrong men, guilt over not giving them a stable home, frustration at their low standard of living or other things I can’t even imagine may play into her decision. Her reasons are superfluous though.
If our parents and grandparents are to be believed, this poor mother’s family, friends and acquaintances would have pointed out the errors in her moral judgment in times so not long past. Today, we consider it nosy and judgmental to voice an opinion.
Where is the outrage that 40% of births last year were out of wedlock? Where are the crusaders, arguing to have all teenage girls and boys “fixed”? Am I being absurd? I’m sure most of you think so but think about it.
On the August 19 broadcast of his nationally syndicated radio program, Neal Boortz described "single mothers receiving public assistance" as "welfare broodmares." Boortz made the comment while discussing a report that women in Georgia who received public assistance gave birth at more than three times the rate of women who did not receive public assistance, according to 2006 U.S. Census Bureau figures.
From another article – “Typical is the view expressed by a Brooklyn woman in a recent letter to The New York Times: ‘Let's stop moralizing or blaming single parents and unwed mothers, and give them the respect they have earned and the support they deserve.’”
While the children of these children are not often given up in the same fashion as a litter of unwanted puppies or kittens, they are a huge burden on society. Children of unwed mothers are disproportionately on public assistance, are far more likely to spend their lives in poverty, have an elevated risk of emotional and/or behavioral problems, drop out of school far more often, use drugs and themselves give birth out of wedlock at far higher rates than children of two parent homes. The cost of the societal ills caused by out of wedlock births is astronomically higher than running animal shelters.
Why is it then completely acceptable to expect me to take better care with my dog than my neighbor does with her child? Why is it not only acceptable but DESIRABLE in our society, for people to gently remind me to be a good pet owner and take my dog to the vet? Maybe it’s just me, but I see a huge problem here.
And don’t even get me started on the way we treat our terminally ill versus a pet at the end of his/her life!