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Simple Pleasures :: Mr. Spaceman


Wheels Rollin'

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Wheels Rollin'
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I went riding yesterday… Not for all that long, really -- but I did have an unexpected and oh-so-appreciated chance to legitimately live my ‘Wheels Rollin’ title for a small part of the day… Somehow, in the swirling vortex of the various pursuits my life entertains with great relish, I managed to shoehorn just under 53 miles into 60 of my day’s free, ‘seize the moment’ minutes -- no ‘warp speed’ run by any stretch of the imagination, but time at speed nonetheless… Something happened near the end of my ride, though, that brought a smile to my face and warmed my spirits…

 

 

Nearing the end of my ride, with my gas gauge flirting its darnedest with a single remaining fuel level bar, I figured I’d wheel into a local c-store | gas station combo a mile or so from the house and fill up before heading back to my garage… Much to my delight, there was little traffic out and about at that ‘tween time of day -- the tail end of the ‘headin’ home after work’ pause-an’-go and front end of the ‘headin’ out to play for the evening’ rush… Exiting the Interstate after a short entrance-to-next-exit burst, I navigated a series of intersections and stop lights normally choked with traffic at most times of the day -- painlessly and without undue delay, I noted with pleasure at my good fortune -- and headed towards the now-in-sight oasis…

 

Turning into the store’s drive, I immediately saw I had the whole place to myself, no small feat in and of itself, given the store’s popularity amongst us ‘locals’ at seemingly all hours of the day… Pulling up to a centrally-located, twin pumped island, each capable of dispensing multiple grades, I carefully inched my RT towards the forward of the two pumps, shut down, lowered my side stand, firmly anchored my left foot on the ground below, gently lifted my right leg, and hopping once or twice, almost jig-like, stepped away from the deservedly resting bike… After raising my Schuberth’s face shield and chin bar and removing my gloves, I extracted my credit card from my wallet and began my shuffle of a few steps to the pump’s ‘pay here’ mechanism… Standing before its computer display and getting ready to start my card swiping and button pushing, I heard a loud, barely muffled vehicle behind me a short distance away… Within seconds, it pulled up beside me, its engine straining to keep a steady, confident beat at anything north of what most might recognize as a lazy, in-spec idle… Glancing uncertainly in its direction, I immediately noted its generally beat up, ‘rust bucket’-like condition -- a late 80s Chevy passenger van, proudly displaying the worn patina of what I suspected had been l-o-n-g, l-o-n-g hours of ‘rode-hard-an’-put-away-wet’ service at the hands of multiple owners, each with a decidedly different concept of the term ‘preventive maintenance’ and an occasional planned washing… But it did arrive under its own power -- and with some triumphant fanfare, I should add -- so to my way of thinking, that was probably a victory to be recognized…

 

An instant later, we were engulfed in a welcomed silence as the van’s engine coughed and sputtered before finally taking its last hissing breath… Casually glancing to my left, I could see two occupants -- an older Hispanic man and a young boy, maybe 8–10 years old… The boy was sitting in its slightly elevated, perch-like passenger seat… Looking in my direction, he turned in his seat, placed his arms and elbows on his door’s window sill and propped himself up, all the while, fixing his ever-widening eyes on me… What an image I must’ve been to him, I thought, a near faceless, helmeted figure, covered head-to-toe in some kind of ‘costume’ -- a bright, in-your-face-bet-I-can-make-you-squint-your-eyes, hi-vis yellow riding jacket, black riding pants, and well-worn black motorcycle boots… That figure, standing beside a glistening-in-the-late-afternoon-sunlight red bike, its fairing and windscreen covered in the remains of at least six species of insects, must have really completed the sight… We made eye contact… The biggest smile I’d seen in a long while crossed his face as quickly as an energized light bulb fills a darkened room, his eyes joyful and excited… I smiled back, warmly, my gaze in his direction lingering for an added moment before returning my attention to the ‘feed-me-I’m-thirsty’ task my RT’s near-empty gas tank had caused me to initiate…

 

Working through the authorization and fuel flowing process seconds later, I heard a door c-r-e-a-k open and close behind me, the shadow of a figure beginning to head across the parking lot towards the store’s entrance in my peripheral vision… The older man, I noted upon closer inspection… Laborer’s clothing… Close-cropped black hair beneath a well-worn yellow ball cap… Proud, erect posture… Forceful, determined strides… A few paces away from his now silent vehicle, he stopped dead in his tracks, a weathered face harboring a full mustache and deep set brown eyes revealed, and turned towards the young boy… Gesturing at him with a raised arm and splayed fingers, he shouted something in Spanish, then turned without waiting for an acknowledgement and continued on his way… I didn’t quite understand the gesture nor catch what he’d said, but the immediate ‘Si’ response and head nod indicated to me he understood exactly what had been said and what he was being told to do… The boy’s unflinching, almost sentinel-like gaze of me and my bike, however, continued from his front seat citadel as I went about my business, the broad, infectious smile never leaving his face…

 

With my bike’s tank filled a short while later, I was securing my gas cap and returning my tank bag to its resting place when I heard a voice, his voice… ‘…Oye, el… el Senor Astronauta… Su… su motocicleta… es… es hermosa…’, he excitedly said, the carefully spoken words jumping from his lips into the air between us, their English meaning not immediately registering in my non-bilingual brain… Pausing, and running the words through my brain a second time, though, I figured ‘motocicleta’ was referring to my bike, so I knew he was commenting about it… ‘Hermosa’, though, wasn’t readily ringing a bell… Neither was ‘Astronauta’, for that matter… I shrugged, deciding it really didn’t matter at that moment -- what did matter to me, though, was acknowledging the boy’s comments in some respectful manner… Smiling, I nodded appreciatively and walked across the 5-6 feet separating us and somehow managed to speak a sincere and passable ‘muchas gracias’ in response… He then extended his left hand towards me… I reached out to touch it, both of our bare hands, palms open and fingers pointing upward, coming together in a modified ‘high 5’ manner -- though ‘low 5’ would likely be a more accurate description of the action… ‘Muchas gracias’, I said again before turning, closing my helmet’s chin bar, repositioning my face shield, gently urging my fingers and hands back into my gloves, and remounting my bike… Seconds later after raising my side stand, I brought my Boxer to life, its familiar and gentle idle filling my ears… Looking ahead, I could see the older man… He was exiting the store’s front door with a very full shopping bag and beginning his 80-paces walk across the parking lot back to his vehicle… I snicked my bike into first, glanced cautiously left, right, and left, in the process, catching sight of the young boy once again… The exuberant smile remained on his face… He waved, his hand moving so quickly his fingers were blurred in my sight… I smiled and nodded a final time before easing out the clutch, rolling on a little throttle, and pulling away…

 

The short ride home was one full of warm feelings and an overwhelming sense of peace, tranquility, and gratitude… A chance to ride had been taken at last, the miles as welcomed as a gift of heaven’s gentle rain to a parched and sun-scorched earth below… And then, there was the surprising and completely unexpected encounter with the young boy, the image of his smile and sense of… of carefree joy in his face and eyes bringing a smile to my own face…

 

The last couple of hours of my day had certainly been everything I’d hoped they could be… The sense of satisfaction was immense… I thought about it in the way I usually do in instances like this and reached an expected conclusion… In a world of seemingly endless complexity, how wondrous it is we gain all we do from some of life’s simplest pleasures, in this instance, my aimless wandering on some deserted country two-lanes for a small number of the day’s minutes, and afterwards, connecting with another human being in an unexpected, yet pleasingly impressionable way…

 

How truly blessed and oh-so-fortunate I was yesterday…

 

 

EPILOGUE:

Sitting at my computer later that evening after dinner, the young boy’s words came back to me… ‘…Oye, el… el Senor Astronauta… Su… su motocicleta… es… es hermosa…’… I scribbled the words as fast and as best I could on a piece of paper to capture them before they escaped me again… Opening my computer’s Internet Browser, I searched for a free language translation site… Finding what I thought would be a suitable one after only a few clicks, I slowly typed the words I’d scribbled a few moments earlier into the ‘enter here’ box and unhesitatingly clicked on the site’s ‘Translation’ radio button… The first attempt came back as an error… I tried it again, this time, achieving success… What appeared in the display box was the following:

 

‘… Hey, Mr. Spaceman… Your motorcycle is beautiful…’

 

I stared at the words on the screen, blankly at first, and then, my head slowing nodding in recognition of the meaning of the young boy’s words, a smile came to my face… The image of his smile came racing back into my mind causing my chuckle to quickly erupt into laughter -- and it felt good… really good… to laugh… My ‘full gear’, I figured, must’ve made me look like something… someone… from outer space to him… Still smiling and believing the moment definitely needed to be celebrated in something more befitting the sentiments of the experience, I clicked on iTunes and brought up my playlist, scrolling down quickly afterwards to what I thought would be a suitably appropriate musical tribute to this experience… Sing along if you know the tune:

 

Mr. Spaceman

Jim McGuinn | The Byrds

 

Woke up this morning with light in my eyes

And then realized it was still dark outside

It was a light coming down from the sky

I don't know who or why

 

Must be those strangers that come every night

Those saucer shaped lights put people uptight

Leave blue-green footprints that glow in the dark

I hope they get home all right

 

:: Refrain ::

Hey, Mr. Spaceman

Won't you please take me along

I won't do anything wrong

Hey, Mr. Spaceman

Won't you please take me along for a ride

 

Woke up this morning, I was feeling quite weird

Had flies in my beard, my toothpaste was smeared

Over my window, they'd written my name

Said, so long, we'll see you again

 

:: Refrain ::

 

Posted

Thanks for sharing that great story.

Francois_Dumas
Posted
:)
Wheels Rollin'
Posted
Thanks for sharing that great story.

Thanks so much, Bud... I'm truly glad you enjoyed it... Now, if I... uh... only had a better command of Spanish, I'd offer you something witty as a take-away, but I'm... well... I'm not really all that clever nor that fluent <>...

 

Bueno suerte? <>

 

~ Bill

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