End of Day

Stan

Outside of my family I can count on one hand the people that have had a great impact or influence on me. In terms of motorcycling, one comes to mind and that is Stan Botway. You can read a little bit about Stan here as I have mentioned him before and I've also mentioned him in an article for the BMWMOA for their My First Bike column of June 2013. I had been thinking of Stan lately as I usually hear from him through email once a month and hadn't heard from him in a few months and decided to email him to see what's up. My heart sank a little when I received a rejection notice that his email address was unknown. I decided to send an email to the plethora of people that he would include on some of his emails, hoping for a quick response. In the meantime, I decided to do a simple Google search and found this. With my fears confirmed, I had wished I hadn't sent an email out asking if his other friends had heard from him. Then the onslaught began. Many of his friends knew he had passed away, but a surprising amount did not. What was more intriguing is the information passed along to me about their friendship with Stan. Some of which paralleled mine and some I had no idea existed. As Paul Harvey would say, "now you know the rest of the story." And I do now.  Stan was a colorful person that's for sure and to a person, no matter their point of view, all agreed he will be missed and he is. He did sort of have one last suggestion if not wish for me. Last year he advised me I should compile this blog into a book. May be I will take him up on it. In the meantime, here's to Stanley Leon Botway, friend. If there is an afterlife, I will see you down the road, if not, it was time well spent. Thank you.

A couple pictures of Stan in his prime:

 

Looks like the sidecar rig he tried to do a CC run

Classic Stan with BMW suspenders and cigarette in hand

Thank you for reading this blog

Final Drive: A Dream Deferred

Have you ever had a dream deferred?

This was a question that came into my head as I was commuting down the Beeline one morning when the air was still cool enough and traffic was light enough that I could not only think such thoughts, but get into a nice rhythm at speed that wouldn't be possible on the return commute home. Humans may not be the only animals to dream, but we are probably the only ones to make them come true or not. Some dreams are simple, like a cross country trip on our motorcycles feeling the freedom of the road and living in both the moment and the naked environment, curve after curve with soaring vistas of amber waves of grain, purple mountains majesty and waves crashing on beaches that never end. Some of our dreams are more mundane, like having an empty and quiet house, getting the parking spot closest to the building at work or getting the last peanut M&M in the bowl. Others may have more serious pursuits, like finding a soul mate, the perfect job, career or to be happy. Some dreams come true, many do not. Failure becomes the sadness that nourishes regret and yet we still have dreams in our hearts that fester to the point that they can rot like stinking meat in our souls that prevent us from moving on to greater dreams and possibilities. May be the idea of taking that cross country trip doesn't mean what it did when we were 30 years younger, doesn't fit reality anymore and yet we still hang on to the notion of being a Charlie Boorman or Ewan MacGregor. Or may be we think that a S1000RR is all we need to have to feel young again. May be it will. Who am I to say and it's a small dream really.

Have you ever had a dream deferred?

Besides wanting a real motorcycle, one of my early dreams was to become a Chiropractor. My Chiropractor was also one of the major influences in getting me into motorcycling and he impressed me enough that I thought that I might like being a Chiropractor too. Stan lived a good life and he would take off 4-8 weeks a year and go hither and yonder all over North America on a motorcycle with his lovely wife Missy. Stan was a top notch Chiro I trusted and a friend.  Unfortunately the weight of the dream came sagged under the load of 5 hours of organic chemistry labs and exploded after meeting the very lovely and intelligent Miss Jean Ribarich and after which I was side tracked enough that my grades suffered and precluded me from pursuing that dream further. All of it was my fault and that dream died rather quickly on the vine.

Have you ever had a dream deferred?

My next dream was to become a journalist. I got into New York University's Arthur L Carter Graduate School of Journalism. A really top notch school for that field and just as expensive as it sounds too. Halfway through my studies my mom became terminally ill and money became tight as well. I never completed my studies there. I had dreams of becoming a moto-journalist, something that festered for a long time after leaving the school. A year later I met my future wife and a year and half after that we were married and the rest as they say is history. Festering is a good word as I always felt like I had unfinished business. The years passed and I had been working in IT for a long time when I felt I should give it a second look as what I was doing wasn't it. The digital age was upon us and blogging was and is a way to at least feel like I am writing in a public way.  The thing is, so is everyone else and realistically, what makes my voice in this crowded wilderness any better than someone else? It's a sobering thought and an honest one too. To that end I am still here, but no Pulitzer or paychecks have been forthcoming. I guess consistency has its own reward. This dream seems to drying up like a raisin in the sun.

Have you ever had a dream deferred?

 I've had other dreams too. Some die very hard under the weight of reality. A few years back I had the wonderful idea I could compete in the Iowa Games in the Strongman competition. I had seen it the year before and I thought that I could do that if I worked out hard. I am a big guy and had experience with weights (may be I should have been a trainer) and I thought it was possible. I wanted to be the next George Foreman, defying society's conventions of age and I wanted to be a champion at 48. After doing what was a combination of bodybuilding and power-lifting routines for 8  months, I hit a wall. Actually, I didn't hit a wall, but I found my limitations the hard way. After doing farmer's walks with 150lb dumbbells, I found I couldn't do incline dumbell presses with my left arm. When I say I couldn't do it, it was because it didn't work. My mind told my arm to press, but nothing happened. Long story short, it didn't get better by itself and I would have to get a 3 level cervical fusion and my strongman days were over at 48. I hit the trifecta with stenosis, bone spurs and bad disks. The doc basically said, don't do that anymore and I haven't. At 51, that dream is dead and buried.

Have you ever had a dream deferred?

So now I am looking for the next dream, hopefully unencumbered by past ones. Sometimes old dreams hold us back and we need to let go of the past to create a possible future. May be it will be simple and sweet, like the small joys we experience every day which can be as simple as getting one's face in the wind or may be it will be as grand and daring as anything I have tried before. At the very least I will be writing here. Stay tuned. Independence Day is upon us.

Thank you for reading this blog.