Untitled.

My wife said her time here will be shortened. She said even if she comes out of this chemo and beats this cancer, the chemo alone will shorten her time here with us. I did not want to hear that. I told her that if she leaves me alone with the kids and the dogs then I'll make sure the girls get through college and the dogs live as long as they are meant to live. Then I'm going to follow her.

I figure I'll get my hands on an old Shovelhead, maybe some rigid frame bar hopper. I'll ride around the country for a few months. I'll find myself an open ended bridge with a real long drop. I will have to hit some biker bars and scare up a big fat joint because I promised myself years ago that I will get stoned at least one more time before I die.

So I'll smoke that joint and wash it down with an icy cold six-pack of Coor's before I hit that open ended bridge with the throttle buried and those straight pipes screaming.

Now if she leaves us when the girls are older and there are grandchildren involved, well I'll have to stick around for the grandchildren. I'll have to make sure they know all about their grandmother.

Not Coor's Light. Regular Coor's in the yellow cans. Light beer, that would be a sin.