I bet Rock would stop and help me busted down on the side of the road.
Don and WD would too no doubt.
Ed, shit. I already ended up calling Ed one time when I pitched a chain but it’s not like I needed proof of his friendship.
Robert and Mike wouldn’t blow by a busted down bike if they wuz on the way to a heart attack either, I imagine.
Maybe I am part of the problem. Might be that the less we diverge from our shared passions, the longer we stay cohesive. That’s a tough nut for me. After three years around here I run out of clever repartee treading the same old paths. I get a kick out of needling people in fun and making light of some of the silly shit.
None of that means that I don’t have an abiding respect for the men and women that are keeping the breed alive. Gilroy officially dies a little every time somebody disappears for whatever reason. It gets life back when new blood shows up, but the new blood in doesn’t equal the old blood gone.
Hey it’s only a fucking web board after all.
Like hell it is. There’s more to this than some quilting bee.
Honest to god, when we get done communicating, there’s going to be a cost.