Let me say right from the start that I hold Denzler completely responsible. "Hey, as long as you're here, let's have another beer." I should know better, but I'm not always the man Mom wanted me to be.

As has become recent custom, many Wet attendees of VME Wednesday cruised to The George & Dragon for food, drink, and tales of daring and adventure. Jack, kd, Chris, Karen, the usual suspects. And some suspects we haven't hugged lately; Rolland and Karen, Briggs and Tina (I hope that's right), and Annie Maguire, an old VME friend who now runs a B & B on the big island. We had reasons to celebrate.

Finally, we say our good-byes and head for home. Debb and I get to Aurora and 45th and I realize I've neglected to pay the tab. Oops. Debb goes on and I return. Well, my favorite DB1 owner hasn't left yet, so through some sort of psychic mind control, 'we' decided to have one more and that I should buy.

I must have slept really hard and unmoving, because I woke up this morning with one hell of a crick in my neck. Ouch! No looking left for me. Fortunately I've had the opportunity to observe BB in action so I know all about moving my entire upper body to look around. (See a doctor, you hoser!)

Not in the best of shape, I head off to work in my truck. I practically had to get out of the truck a couple of times to check for traffic. I arrived at work to discover that my Boeing badge still lies safe and concealed in the left fairing pocket of the GoldWing at home. Damn! No problem getting in the building, but I need it at the Boeing Employees Credit Union (BECU) this morning. Damn Damn!

Thankfully it's a quiet morning at work. Answer a couple of e-mails, check CNN to see if we're at war anywhere, then leave about 9 to return home, get my badge, and get back to the BECU. My neck is really tightening up so as soon as I get home I down some drugs to ease the pain. Got the badge and I'm off to the BECU.

I park in the BECU lot and realize I don't have the printed e-mail that has the woman's' name. DAMN! Drive to work up a crawling Evergreen Way and duck into the office to grab the paper. Naturally I get spotted and have to answer urgent questions. Irritated, I cut them sorta short and jump back in the truck. Drive back through crawling traffic to BECU. Get parked and discover I STILL don't have the right piece of paper. DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! Of course, this woman's' first name isn't something simple like Beth or Wendy. No, it's so weird I can't even make a guess. And her last name is two names hyphenated and I have never seen either of them, alone or hyphenated. DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!

I can attest that 'Built Ford Tough' certainly applies to their steering wheels. I hammered it!

It's now 10:50. I'm supposed to meet Patrick at 11:15 at his condo in Mukilteo. Damn! Maybe the gods are trying to tell me something. I sit there for a minute cooling off and a friend from work goes by and says 'Hi'. Well, I guess the whole world hasn't gone completely bonkers, just my morning.

I head toward Patrick in the evil crawling Evergreen traffic. All this caused by two simple things: Patrick won't take a check and "Hey, as long as you're here, let's have another beer."

After waiting two cycles for the light at Evergreen and Casino Road I think to myself, "Fuck it!" I don't need this bike. I lived 50 years without one, I finish up here on this earth without one. If he wants the money, he can load the bike in my truck and follow me back to BECU with the paperwork containing this woman's' name, or he can sell the damn thing to somebody else.

Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh. Enlightenment at last. How often we forget the difference between interesting and important. My neck hurts less, I ignore the traffic and scan the FM dial for some interesting music. In less than an hour, I'll be on with my life, plus or minus one bike. So be it.

Patrick pulls into his condo parking space right ahead of me. I relate a very brief account of my morning. He hesitates and frowns when I explain I haven't got the Cashier's check yet. I explain his options. He comes to the light and we're on our way.

Yes, the line to the cashiers is long, but we chat amiably about his hotted up '79 VW Rabbit. The line moves along nicely, somewhere birds are singing, angels dance on pins, the sun shines eternally, the Eagles are back together.

And in less than an hour I'm back home. The title is signed and transferred and a beautiful red 1990 Honda Hawk, 8000 miles, excellent condition, paid in full, sits peacefully in my garage.

Hey Chris, I'll get the next one too. Its easy.