Monday, May 14, 2007

I've been accumulating a bunch of blog topics over the past several weeks, but haven't found myself in the mood to write about them.

There was the story of Richard Guhn's third annual pilgrimage to The Scooter Lounge, which would have been titled "Richard Guhn: How we got rid of him for good this time-- we hope."

There was the story I was mulling over about how as a kid growing up in Utah, kids from California were automatically admired and accepted into the coolest cliques-- even if they were from a hellhole like Bakersfield, or Barstow.

Then there was the story of how certain individuals at Genuine Scooter Company, (in spite of me having been one of their most vocal supporters and one of their top dealers), began waging a campaign against my mental health, financial security, and general happiness by becoming a major pain in the neck. But although that was a big, big headache, and I'm still mad as hell about it, it's neither funny nor entertaining, and I think it would be ill-advised to publicize it.

In the wee hours of this morning I awoke from a dream about my Brother-In-Law whom I never met on account of his suicide ten years ago. For some reason it cast a pall on my whole morning. I thought about writing about that, but it's pretty depressing.

A few weeks ago my six-year-old son intentionally broke a big plate-glass window and began working at the store for an hour a day to pay for it. Hilarity did not ensue. Nothing to write about.

My wife and I went to Moab for a scooter rally and slept in my van, down by the river. It was fun, my friend Marty nicknamed me "Magic Fingers Dave," and there were plenty of wisecracks about "If this Van's a rockin'. . ." all totally unfounded. And I took my mountain bike on a "tour de humilation" from which parts of my body are still recovering.

Speaking of "still recovering" I crashed a customers scooter in the parking lot of my store. That's a great story too.

So my blogfriends, help me to narrow the field. Tell me what stories you most want to hear.

8 comments:

bobthecow said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
justin hileman said...

i dunno... surprise us.

i decided to write about the secret wave.

Martin said...

Magicfingersdave:

Well this Richard Guhn isn't your pseudonym for Martin Calder is it? Because I think that I have been down there 3 times as well:)

I would love to hear about why your child decided that glass crashing would be fun.

You crashing your customers scooter sounds cool too.

But whatever you write I am sure it will be entertaining

Marty

b. said...

start at the top and work your way down

John Roylance said...

I hate those dang Cali kids!!!

John said...

I hate Cali kids too and I was one :)
I moved to VA from CA when I was in junior high and another guy did at the same time. He was from some tiny podunk landlocked town but he dressed like a surfer with his pooka-shell necklace so everyone thought he was the coolest. I was from an actual beach town but since I didn't look like a surfer everyone wouldn't give me the time of day.

I want to hear about Genuine and the crash, and the window, please.

nosurf said...

ok, dear friend. You are now aware how insane folks from cali can be. I happen to be from Fountain Valley, next to Huntington Beach (Orange Co.). No one knew where the hell that was until 5-6 years ago. I went back a few years ago. It was the ghost town of my dreams as everyone has moved on, 'cept my brother, old boyfriend #1 and #2. Which is all depressing- My son decided to use his little club and chip a golf ball threw the 100 year old pane window- proud too, he told everyone that came to visit what he did (months to years later). Pissed off mother. I can relate there. So what was your son's story??

AzĂșcar said...

I'm glad you picked Cali kids first--en serio. B's got the best idea, just write them all, you're a great writer.