movement not action

There is quaking and violent silence more expressive than a noonday in Manhattan. It is strange in is stillness that you can only employ words which seem to express violence and chaos to describe the slow moment. I have spent many months at sea and would stare out into the morning fluorecents trying to listen and it seemed unbelievable that such a sight wouldn't give up a sound. Or the sun demonstrating it's effect behind the veil cloud. You would stay if you could, you would close your mouth as to not offend and sober suddenly because of the natural collision of the ocean with light. The Sierra mountain crests are similar in their ability to disturb you with humility and conscience. The Canyon, the Shenandoah Valley, driving an old Ford from the north down Hwy 1.

There are easy reasons why real estate is expensive in these places. The yacht, the cruz, are rewards for the ambitious. Others run away to give themselves to such things. To tents in mountains or to navies. It would be worth it all if we could stand before that moment and remain that quiet and humble man needing only the light on his face and the knowledge of peace experienced. It would be worth it to sell it all or give it all if it would last. It would be worth it if it wasn't already given freely in a place we were not looking.

Maybe if the yard work is done, the hall celing is patched, the plumbing access panel in the bathroom is made and installed, I will get the time to turn a wrench on the bike or possibly wash the car. I love old cars and motorcycles, even my house was built in 48, and the time it takes to keep up with maintenance isn't self indulging but has it own reward for me. The conection with the past, the simplicity of old but strong motors are more interesting to me than new technology (and every thing made in the 50's and 60's has more style). Most people I know have the new house, the nearly service free car and they like it that way. Beth and I don't have childeren and because of that I imagine myself doing very little with excess time if we had a new house which didn't need a kitchen remodel or sprinklers dug up and replaced. These things keep me busy and keep me learning. Example. A sure fire way to learn about motorcycle carburation is to break down on the side of a long empty road with plenty of time, a couple of tools and a folded up Haynes manuel you fourtunatly brought with you.
There is a danger of allowing these things to slip into the past. Of course the old cars and bikes will one day be gone but what happens when our interests are absorbed with the new and convienently replaceable, when men are unwilling or worse unable to fix the problems around the house? Are we still good stewards of our things if we just pick up the phone to have another more capable guy fix it all for us (I do have a pool guy)? I like the idea of having kids and being able to teach them about the value of hard work by actually doing something hard. Might as well learn those lessons on a 68 Triumph. See how well guys can rationalize nearly anything?

The intro:

I wanted a place to do some thinking and leave it all open to comment and criticism. Welcome family, friends and friendly strangers.