The Harley

For years, I have wanted a motorcycle. To be specific, a Harley Davidson, obnoxious, stand up the hair on the back of your neck loud, 1600 cc's of mosey, hot rod of a bike.

My family has known this as well, but every year for my birthday or Christmas I would always get a miniature version to set on my desk at work or a calendar full of photos of bikes I would never own.

Well...last year...I decided that things needed to be different.

This year, I spent most of my birthday at the Harley dealer putting the final touches on the deal to purchase my 2007 Road King Custom. She's black, shiny, and just wake up the neighbors on Saturday morning perfect.

When I bought it...I didn't tell my wife what was going on. Although she suspected something was up, she didn't think I would do anything like that without talking to her... I like to tell everyone that asks how THAT went over... "There was about an hour of real awkwardness...but after that everything was okay." To Rachel's credit...she's pretty easy does it. I'm spoiled.

This picture isn't my bike...but it's identical. This year my goal is to change the handlebars out for some 12 -14 inch apes.

One of the best parts about getting a motorcycle this year is that almost every guy on our street/neighborhood got a bike this year. (About 10 of us altogether) We didn't do as much riding as we wanted to but we did get out a bit. This spring we are planning a trip to Bryce, Grand, and Zion Canyons in Southern Utah and Northern Arizona. The thought of this trip is the only thing keeping me going this winter as I trudge to work in the snow and below freezing temperatures.

I couldn't help myself this evening...I took it out after work and had to dodge ice patches in the road...my hands were freezing but the sun was shining. Warmer days are ahead.

Quick trip to Europe

Work had me scheduled to fly to Belgium for meetings with our corporate staff there. Unfortunately two days before I was to leave, my Grandmother passed away. The funeral was to be held before I was to originally return so I changed my flight to return home a couple days early.

I almost spent more time on airplanes going to and from Europe than I actually spent on the ground in Belgium. It was my first trip to Europe and I had hoped to see a bit of the sites before I returned but it was worth every second to be home in time for the funeral. It was truly priceless to be home with my family.

While in Belgium, I saw the inside of the NSE corporate offices and the evening of my first and only full day, we went into the center of Brussels and visited "The Grand Place". A town square of sorts surrounded by buildings constructed in the 13th and 14th centuries.

The trip home was ridiculous. I almost don't even want to go into it because it was such a stressful experience. I can't help but feel it was divine intervention that allowed me to make it to St. Louis in time.

The flight back to JFK was jammed. I sat in that seat for almost 9 hours without moving. When we arrived I turned my Sprint phone on which hadn't had service since I left Atlanta a couple days before. I had a voice mail from my wife telling me she had some flight updates for me. I had to get through customs (which is a complete rant by itself...maybe I'll blog that later). After I got through customs I called my wife who told me that my flight had been canceled but they had rerouted me through Cincinnati and I would be getting into St. Louis an hour earlier than previously expected. This is awesome!

I go to check in at the gate...no plane there... and they have a boarding pass already printed for me and hand it to me. A half hour later, they announce the plane is delayed by several hours. This automatically means I'm missing my connection in Cincinnati because I only had 45 minutes to make my connection there.

Frustrated... I stand in a line of about a hundred disgruntled people trying to reroute our itineraries to get where we all need to go. I'm at the back of the line...and it isn't moving. All hope faded.

I had just purchased a Whopper combo meal at Burger King and I hadn't had time to sit down and eat because of all of the controversy of the canceled flight. Another announcement came over the loud speaker announcing that we could also be helped at a different counter 2 gates down. So, from the back of the line I sprinted over to the other counter...pretty much cutting in front of everyone I was just behind and ended up 2nd in line.

When I got to the counter and explained my situation, she said yeah doesn't look like you're getting to St. Louis tonight. This added to my already high stress levels because my brother Doug had already been waiting in St. Louis for me to arrive for most of the day. If I didn't' arrive... it would have been all in vain. So would the early return from Europe.

Literally, just then another announcement came over the system announcing last call for a flight to Atlanta...saying that all passengers should already be on board. I said to the agent..."Can I get on that flight to Atlanta and get to St. Louis from there?" She typed for what seemed like an hour and then called the gate where the Atlanta flight was departing and said...I'm sending a passenger to get on that flight... don't let it leave without him! At that...she said... YOU BETTER RUN!

The gate I needed to get to was a LONG way away and I was sprinting through the terminal. People were literally jumping out of my way as I ran to get to the gate. I tossed my $12 Whopper in the trash as I ran and when I finally made it to the correct gate...I was so out of breath I couldn't even talk to the lady taking the tickets. At first she refused to help me because I was holding a ticket to Cincinnati but after several stressful out-of-breath moments, she agreed to let me on the flight.

As I sat on that flight to Atlanta...knowing that my bag was still on it's way to Cincinnati and I wouldn't have anything to wear to the funeral... hope began to shine. I knew I was going to make it to St. Louis that night. I was pretty much overcome with emotion and I hadn't had any sleep to speak of for most of the week.

When I got to Atlanta I had to talk another gate agent into letting me on an earlier flight...her main concern was that my bag wouldn't be on that flight. My bag was still sitting at JFK and I knew it.

Long story shorter... I made it about the same time I had originally planned on being there. It was great to see my family. It was a miracle I made it!

Cousins, cousins, and more cousins

I recently returned to Missouri for the funeral of my grandmother Phoebe Openshaw. Although we were gathered together to morn the loss of our mother and grandmother, it was also a happy occasion and an opportunity for a reunion of sorts. Unfortunately, from my viewpoint, this is the last time everyone who attended will ever have a reason to be in the same room together. I hope it's not true but the realist in me can't help but point that out.

My sister put together a list of our grandmothers posterity and came up with some pretty crazy numbers. My grandparents had 10 children. Those 10 children produced 71 grand children... and the numbers continue to expand exponentially. But the point I wanted to make is that I have over 60 first cousins on my mothers side alone! We're like that family in the movie ""My big fat Greek wedding" ! Although, not all are documented in the photo above...we had 39 first cousins in attendance. It was fun to get everyone together but sad that it has to be a funeral to get us to do so.

I always knew I had a lot of cousins... and I'm sure Grandma knew how many grand children she had but I hadn't ever heard those numbers before. We have a big family!