Hal, Harley's, and Bird Poop

[Hal Copple]

I do so love living in SC. It has been a wet, cold winter for us, and we Southern Gentlemen and Ladies don't suffer such tribulation very well at all.

was off this afternoon, a stunningly gorgeous day, quickly mowed the yard, called the Wife, she was up in Charlotte shopping, always a dangerous mode for any woman to be in. Called her, told her i wanted to meet her in my SPF, she in her new X Series Jaguar, at the Uptown bar and grill, which in Southern incongruitiy, is located far from uptown, in fact, out by the Interstate, near the woods.

Most of SC is woods, or lakes, by the way.

She declined, as she was "on a mission" to find some accesories, which means totally different things to me than to her. For her, leather and shiny things, for me, things with wires sticking out the back, or chromed stuff.

So wiped the pollen off the Great Stroker, and headed out to the Uptown, for Biker Night. I could tell this afternoon, with all the biker guys and chicks out, that the first warm Thursday of the spring was going to be a big Biker night out on the porch.

Got there, parked right at the end, where all the Harleys had their area roped off, and let the engine idle down, and then shut it down. Like an ace returning from a successful intercept, pulled off the Raybans, and climbed out, and went in, and feasted on chicken dipped in hot sauce. As i reached the double doors to enter, the two hostess ladies swung them wide for me, at which time i laughed and "said for me??", and the replied, "not for you, but we love that car!!"

Ah well.

Anyway, later, with the band rockin' and rolling, walked back out, standing proud and tall by the door of my SPF, with all the biker folk, hundreds of them, looking at me and my car, smiling, thumbs up, that sort of thing, then looked down and saw this big splat of white bird crap on the front of my nice tan slacks, by my fly.

I just sighed, climbed in, toggled the Accusump, brought the oil pressures and fuel pressures up, blipped it a few times, and eased out and away, coming home under the stars of an April SC evening.

It can't get any better than this, less the bird stuff.