After being laid off at the rent-a-truck assembly plant, I had a breif encounter with a seasonal job down the road at the feedmill. After I was laid off there too in the spring of 1980, it was time to give the hopless battle with the economy a rest.  

    The feedmill's pan-face assistant manager's words inspired me.  "We need to lay you off before a couple other guys because you ain't got no wife or kids."  It sounded too much like the fateful words of the crew of the Titanic, "Women and children in the lifeboats!"

     I hopped on my 1975 Kawasaki 500 and headed out to Ohio and then out to Colorado to see a couple of old Army buddies respectively.   The impitus of said sabaticle was word of old Army buddy Herb's pending wedding out Columbus, Ohio, way.

     While in Ohio, I did indeed attend Ol' Herb's wedding. Herb had been in 'Nam. I of course, met him in Germany where we were both stationed in Nuremberg. He was an eclectic guy. Herb loved music and claimed he once worked at a radio station - he knew all the latest tunes.  He was only a couple years older than me. Herb had a motorcycle as well. While in prep for his wedding, one day he, myself, and some of his buddies headed out on our motorcycles. 

    Columbus was in those days a large, small town. Of course, like Wisconsin, the culture was all alcohol - all the time. We ran some errands, and in between the stops there were many pubs, taverns, and clubs. I remember vividly to this day, trying to keep up with the guys, sailing down a road that paralleled a railroad tack. Those guys all knew Columbus. I did not know the nuances of its blue-collar, working-town streets. Suddenly they all disappeared under a bridge as the road took an abrupt right-angle turn under the track. At God only knows how fast, I found my self face to face with a one-way underpass at a right angle. I starred straight into a concrete wall. To this day I do not know why I was able to make the corner. Not being a motor-cross rider I did my best to negotiate the curve. My old motorcycle was however a racing bike. In its day, it had been the state of the art for the sport prior to the crotch-rocket era. 

    I remember my right knee jean material brushing the pavement as I crammed the tight curve. Why I came back up-right again I can not say. I caught up with my friends up the street. The cycles were already lined up outside the door at one of Herb's favorite strip clubs. 

Note: This blog "Fate Fairies" - book version Category is a work in progress. The original vignettes are being edited for book form. Go to the Cooldadiomedia Web site and the Fate Fairies Page for an ordered chronology of the book vignettes (chapters).