Category Archives: AMOG

Family traditions; welcome home baby

Ton 2.0 brought his son home today. Another healthy squaling man child for the Clan Ton. I didn’t go see the boy in the hospital. Not my scene these days, but we left for his place shortly after we got the call and let ourselves in we when got there. We did the typical shit one would expect, drank up his best bourbon, fornicated on his kitchen table, took care of his pets, cleaned up the house and cooked a shit ton of food.

There are things that matter more then life to Clan Ton. I learned these things from my father and his father like they learned them from theirs. Well them and our uncle’s, brothers and what not. When my father brought me home to present me to his father I was laid in a bed with a Confederate flag, an 1858 Remington, a King James Bible and some sliver dollars. I still have that photo. But these are things we value, the Old South and all it stands for, freedom and fire power, hard money and the hard ways of the Almighty.

So when Ton4.0 made it home, my boy brought him to me. This small 8 pound bundle of fragile perfection. Full of potential and promise, not weighted down by failure, regert or tye burdens of life. I held him up, said the same Bible versus we always say and laid him down on my son’s bed. Dead in the center of our stars and bars, silver dollars, King James Bible and our forefather’s Remington.

Of course I Tonierized somethings. I bought the boy some fireworks, a bottle of whisky, a Ford hat, a Harley Davidson onesie, a Henry lever action .22 and a gift certificate for a free pit bull tattoo. Of course the gift certificate is fake, but Ton4.0’s mother has more of a sense of humor then I figured.

These things are symbols, they all mean more then the surface image and they are all traditions. A firearm is more then a tool, it’s your sovereignty as Man. Silver is more then hard money vs fiat dollars. It’s wealth based on reality and the opposition to magic thinking. If the Old South has an official dog, the pit bull is it. Loyal, relentless and called the nanny dog for generations.

Some traditions need to die. Plowing with mules makes no damn sense. With any luck Ton2.0 is the last get from my family. Sometimes new traditions come about. My father and grandfather rode Harleys, same with me and Ton2.0. A goodly amount of having traditions is to reproduce the kind of men and women your family is proud of

I do have a point besides bragging about another grandson. On occasions I hear men bitch about the lack of traditions. Society moves on and change is one of life’s constants, but you have only yourself to blame for allowing your family traditions to die. Only yourself to blame for not creating some. My boys will learn their family’s history, they’ll learn to ride fast, shoot straight and always report the truth. They will know how to hunt, how to fish, and what their forefathers intended to leave behind before yankees fucked shit up. These things are timeless and you can take them where ever you go.  I won’t be around to teach my son’s or grandsons these things but I have full faith in Ton2.0 that our family and our traditions will be projected into the next generation

Alpha in music from the gash’s point of view

 

Hate Myself For Loving You”

Midnight, gettin’ uptight, where are you?
You said you’d meet me, now it’s quarter to two
I know I’m hangin’ but I’m still wantin’ you
Hey Jack, it’s a fact they’re talkin’ in town
I turn my back and you’re messin’ around
I’m not really jealous, don’t like lookin’ like a clown
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Uh

Daylight, spent the night without you
But I’ve been dreamin’ ’bout the lovin’ you do
I’m over being angry ’bout the hell you put me through
Hey, man, bet you can treat me right
You just don’t know what you was missin’ last night
I wanna see you begging, say forget it just for spite
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Huh

I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself
I hate myself for loving you

In the intrest of full disclosure, Joan Jett use to make my motor run something ferice

Keep on trucking

I don’t normally write much about long-term life with women. Mostly because my marriage was a train wreck and I have had more success pulling chicks and nexting bitches then keeping them around but things with The Girls have been going well for awhile now. Even after this last meat grinder of a year. I can’t recall the last anything resembling a shit tests and when things looked their worst this year, The Girls never wavered. They never bitched when our budget was cut by more then half, they never got pissy when I hit the road to clear my head. No second guessing. No nagging or pitty parties.

That’s a new experience for me. Times past, women added stress. From the beginning The Girls have made it a habit to talk about me in the 3rd person as if I am not there. Its always amused me. When The Girls talk about me/ us etc it’s no longer about how masculine I am, or how I am an asshole or impossible to live with or how could they both love an asshole so much etc etc

These days the Girls mostly mention how much fun they have with me. I am not sure why the evolution in their discussions but it has been an interesting change, one I didn’t notice until recently. Could a sense of shared adventure be key to LTR success? One would think I started out fun then became an impossible to live with asshole, isn’t that the script? I reckon it took them awhile to fully submit to my frame and adjust to The Ton life. Even the small stuff like eating off those tin camping plates, using dutch ovens over open fires to make supper, fire pit,  smores and wine almost nightly is a departure from their norm.

They never camped before me, didn’t know you could wrap eggs, sausage and hash browns in aluminum foil, toss it on a fire and have breakfast in a few minutes. Never caught fish let alone turn the fish into lunch, right there on the beach by wrapping the fish in foil and tossing it on the fire. Or made chicken stew in a Dutch over over a campfire.

Now all that is old news, but last weekend was our 1st trip off roading. During the build, The Girls were all sickly sweet looks and skeptical smiles but I knew they would enjoy the end results. Girl#2 has always been all about mechanical mayhem and I knew she would enjoy it. Girl#1 gets all smiley and pissed when I do burnouts on the bike or Mustang, but you can tell she loves it, embarrassed about loving it, but loves it, so I was pretty sure she would enjoy the off roading trip.

What I didn’t expect is how much they would enjoy it.

Now the truck isn’t the most radical off road ride but she’ll get the job done. And then some. I lifted it and all that kind of stuff but where I went a little off course is setting it up for camping. We have a camper shell on it, put a homemade rail system in the bed so we can store stuff and slide it all out when we need it and built a bedframe above that so we can sleep on a very comfy foam mattress. A roof rack holds the extra tires, fuel and what not, we can put two kayaks on top of the camper shell if we choose. It ain’t pretty but it’s gets the job done.

Girls eat up attention,and we got a lot of attention. The off road truck/ camper combo was a hit with the other people in the camp site, so was the dog. The Lady Pit is striking, with a big, big friendly personality. We cooked out, and in high fashion. Slept on a nice foam mattress, woke up and had those egg, sausage and hash brown bombs….. we were the talk of the camp ground and I could tell Girl#2 was eating it all up with a spoon, and Girl#1 was enjoying herself as well but in her more reserved manner.

Then we got on the trail. The 1st thing I did was some donuts in the mud, slinging that stuff everywhere while the dog tried to climb in my lap and The Girls laughed like fools. We ran two trails, and I let them run a beginner trail and they were all “we love you” and big smiles. And proud of themselves for driving their 1st off road course.

A week later and it’s about all they talk about.

From a Game perspective there is a lot going on; displays of mastery, demonstrating higher value, pre selection as the other girls at the camp flocked around the rig, talked up my cooking etc etc but but don’t ignore Cindy Lauper’s advice either

I have been deliberate in choosing the outdoor life. These things are fun but there is a larger purpose behind most of what I do. There are certain things I want my son’s to learn. About themselves and about the world, some of which can only be learned outdoors. Some things can only be learned in the ring, others in team sports but the boys are to young for the ring or the ball field.  There are family tradtions I want to preserve for another generation. Skill sets I dont want to see pass away. There are things I want them to do. I want my family to eat certian things and in certian ways. I want these things because they will make my boys better men. I was deliberate in choosing off-roading vs dirt bikes too. I prefer two wheels to 4 but it will be years before the boys can sit a bike but at this point it should all be fun

Have a mission, bend them to your will, have fun

Self-sucfiency, Jack of all trades… ie being a man in a world full of Mancy’s

Cill got me to thinking, dangerous pastime, I know, about how men who were not raised up by traditionally masculine men can address their condition and improve their standing among men.

Being good at being a man entails being as independent as possible and reasonable… ie self-sufficient. It is unrealistic for all men to be good at all things, but most men should and can be reasonably good with their hands. A good stiff jab, a hard straight right hand, a wicked hook, a better upper cut, the ability to repair most shit around the house, to keep your rides tuned and road worthy and the ability  to get yourself out of a bind when your ride doesnt behave isn’t an unreasonable skill set to have and will do much to up your man score.

Nor do these things require a massive investment of time, energy and other resources. Lestwise not when you factor in the return on your investment. Basic plumbing class at the local community college is $85. A turd herder will charge you $40-$60 to come out and replace the inner workings of your shitter. Which takes…. 20 minutes & a $20 kit from Lowe’s. Need to replace the seal between your shitter and floor? That’s going to run you over a hondo for a $15 seal. Spark chasers will charge you $25 to replace a $2.50 outlet. Most HAVAC problems are simple as hell if you know a few tricks, go learn those tricks…. $105 at my local community college.  Knowing a tad bit about automobiles will save you time and money, bring you a sense of accomplishment, and keep you from getting fucked over by the slimy versions of mechanics on the big jobs. Hell the school has a 6 week class focused on repairing common mechanical problems with your car on the side of the road.

Knowing how to do these things, even at a rudimentary level, will bring you standing among men and women. As much as popular culture likes to run down these old school markers of traditional masculinity, the world still responses well to traditionally masculine men.  Imagine discussing your weekend plans and how bad ass it will sound when you tell the chumps you are building a deck while they go shopping with their wives…let those bitches hold sone bitch’s purse. You got man shit to do.  Imagine the sense of accomplishment and pride as you learn to rely on yourself more and other men less.

Especially  you nerdy office drone types.

20 minutes from Camp Ton Costal is my county’s community college where you can learn to weld, learn to do those basic repairs to your house, car/ truck, boat or bike. You can learn to sew, learn to cook, learn to make beer, learn to ride a bike, fix a bike and how to do the same things but on boats. Hell you can also learn to fly, do shit with computers, take photographs and get help creating a buiness plan and start your own bidness

Go forth and learn some cool shit and go do said cool shit.

Red Pill music

 

 

Ladies Love Outlaws”

Bessie was a lovely child from west Tennessee
Leroy was an outlaw wild as a mink
One day she saw him starin’ and it chilled her to the bone
And she knew she had to see that look on a child of her own.

‘Cause ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Linda was a lady blonde and built to last
Benny was a no good guitar picker runnin’ from his past
She heard all of his songs tellin’ nothin’ but bad news
But she made her mind up to try to get him win or lose.

Ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Jessi like the Cadillacs and diamonds on her hands
Waymore had a reputation as a ladie’s man
Late one night a light of love finally gave a sign
Jessi parked her Cadillac and took her place in line.

‘Cause ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul…

Prepping for a road trip

I’ve been home for to long. To many nights sleeping in a bed is bad for the soul. The road is calling. The solitude is calling. Wind burn, sunburn, the cold, the rain…. the desire to see just one more mile of road, to see what’s around the next curve, to find that perfect spot to camp for the night…

Heading out on a bike for a few weeks isn’t a trek to the Artic Circle, but it does take some planning. Most folks plan routes. I don’t cotton to such things myself. Lest wise not most trips. I have an agenda in mind but no time line. I’m headed South. I want to hit Miami to meet up with a potential business partner, then I’ll run down to the Keys to link up with a dude from my Ranger Batt days. After that? Who fucking knows? I’ll figure it out as we go. We? Me and my Lady Pit will be on the road for 2-3 weeks.

I don’t know how many bike trips I’ve done, so this is routine for me. What will be new is taking the dog and the side car. Oh, and the bike is relatively new to me. I’ve put about 2500 miles on her. It’s an ’09 Electra Glide, 96″ motor, 6 speed transmissio, a 6 gallon tank, I bought it a few months ago just for the trip. I picked this bike because she is stock, which means less vibration, which means less mechanical problems, less fatigue and no searching for aftermarket parts in strange towns when I run into mechanical problems. I wanted an 09 or newer for a few features. 6 speed transmission for one. The 6 gallon tank extends my saddle time between fill ups, an extra concern with this trip because of the weight of the dog and side car. The 96″ motor gives good power and the extra weight hasn’t caused the power plant to struggle at highway speeds. This is also the year Harley made some changes to reduce engine heat. It breaks well, and withought the side car, handles better then my 04. I also wanted stock exhaust. Makes it easier on my doggies hearing, and noise can increase fatigue. I’m feeling my age and the little things adds up these days.

The interwebz has a lot of pre-trip checklists so I won’t speak on that much. Same thing with toolkits, but have one and do the other. Start with fresh tires, breaks and oil. Well not to fresh, but more then 200 miles on them, and hopefully most of those miles on one run. I don’t require a lot of personal gear, I’ve done coast to coast trips with a sleeping bag, tooth brush and ridding leathers. I do carry a fair amount of gear for the bike.

One of the nice things about owning a Harley is options. In this case luggage options. There are kits that will let you get the maximum use out of the limited space in your saddle bags. Use them. I carry a fairly extensive tool kit; with the right aftermarket tool bags they all fit into what would have been dead space in the saddle bags. I also have 2 one gallon fuel cans that also tuck into some not very useful space in the saddle bags. I always carry two quarts of oil, a small bottle of break fuild, Marvin’s Mysrty oil, octane boost, wd40, duct tape and a shit ton of zipties plus three different ways to repair tires along with two ways to inflate my tires. Method #1 is an electric airpump you can pick up at Napa. I have a hand full of air cartridges that you screw into the val stem, takes a couple per tire, but they can get the job done.

I’ll still have room in the saddle bags for my leathers and some water.

I… not sure what you would call them but I have a set of bags designed to sit on top of the saddle bags. I love those things. They are super easy to get on and off the bike and I can get all I need for short trips/ non camping trips into those two bags. Couple of quick releases, they come right off and are easy to carry into the hotel. Toothbrush, couple pair of socks, maybe a clean shirt, sun screen, spare glasses, gloves, long sleeve shirt… all the small things you like to have easy access to while your on the road. You can also fit rain gear in them if your a pussy and use those types of things.sisoursly though, lots of folks love rain great and it’s smart to keep it handy, I have never liked rain gear and would rather put my leathers on. This trip will be mostly camping and everything I want in the tent will be in those bags.

Lots of folks have touring packs/ trunks on their glides. I dislike them for several reasons. I go old school, a nice tall sissy bar, bags and zip ties. These days I have some luggage designed to be used/ strapped to the sissy bar. This is where all the camping stuff and a full face helmet goes.

As a rule, I hate helmets, but a full face helmet is nice to have when it rains. It’s winter time in the South, so I will for sure get rained on. Which is why my socks and what not will be in zip lock bags. Same with the box of spare ammo and mags for my XDM. I’ll also take some under armor in case it gets cold, 2 sets of gloves, hand/ foot warmers and a spare pair of boots

The main topic I wanted to address is camping gear. There is some cool camping shit out there but storage space is limited on a bike, you have the shit you would like to have with you like a towel and a bar of soap and you have shit you absolutely need like moonshine and condoms. Weight is an issue as well, and you need to pack all that shit on your bike in such a way you can get to your stuff in a hurry when you need it and in such a way as it doesn’t negatively affect your bikes balance and center of gravity. Camping in cool places is a big deal to me on this trip. I want to do a little fishing, a little drinking and a lot of sitting around the fire drinking, grilling and singing Johnny Cash songs with my dog so on top of the stuff you need like a tent and a sleeping bag, I want to bring a fishing pole, camping stool, hatchet and some cooking gear.

I’m not going to tell you what gear to buy but I am going to tell you a group of people who have successfully solved the camping gear vs size and weight problem

Backpackers have all that shit figured out. Light weight sleeping bags, light weight tents, stoves, cooking gear, dishes…. they sell all that shit and for less money then the places selling motorcycle gear.

Also I recommend a 2 man tent for the extra space and sleeping bag good to 20F with a poncho liner for extra weight. Saves you money and space and between the 3 things you’ll stay pretty warm even when it’s balls cold

Cut off and happy

I loved watching the storm last night. I opened all three French doors, pulled the recliner over, grabbed a bottle of apple wine, put my Lady Pit in my lap and settled in. The Girls slid up next to me before long.

I am, at this moment, physically cut off from the rest of the world. Its a good feeling. The road that takes us from my little sliver of the inter-coastal waterways to the main land is under water. Not sure how deep, don’t much care, but it’s a couple hundred feet wide. Don’t much care about that either. If I did, I’d put my kayak in the water and find out the depth, maybe find the road under the water, mark the path and drive my truck into town. If driving to town is posdible. Doesn’t seem to be much of a current but if there was, it woukd only take me to town. Which I am happy enough to be separated from.

It’s a peaceful easy feeling. We lost power some time back. Made our inlet nice and quiet. Of sorts. The storm was noisy, but there is no hum from the refrigerator either. I have a generator. Haven’t used it yet. I am enjoying the sounds of nature, family and my neighbors to much. Maybe I’ll crank it up when I run out of ice. Yeti coolers are money, so maybe I won’t run out of ice.

I was up early as I always am and the 1st thing I noticed (beyond the Hell jounds and the Girls) was the silence. No wind, no rain, no sound from the refrigerator. Quick check of the house while Girl glares and my Lady Pit bounces around. Neither would go out for the bathroom in the rain. Ton Spawn was sleeping in, the storm kept him up, the house was intact.

The water is high, maybe 5 ft, right at the edge of our retaining wall and over lapping my dock. We use to be surrounded by wet lands. To our front, the river/ bay, ocean and one of our larger and more popular barrier island. Which i am sure did its protecting us from the wind and storm surge. On the other three sides was wet lands and a road. Now  they are under Lord only knows how much water. I climbed up to the roof/ bbq area of my boat shed and checked out my street. We all did well. The one tree in my street, happens to be in my yard, fell. Ground was to wet to hold it, and it fell across the street. Not much of a tree or obstacle but since you can’t really drive around it now, it needed to be #1 on my to do list. Our little road was cut, and since no one was hurt, or in immediate danger, restoring our high speed avenues of approach became the priorty #1.

I love the silence. We are always quiet,  but this morning it was silent. I wanted to keep it going so I used a pocket saw instead of a chain saw. Made two cuts, which made three peices of tree and cleared the road. A short walk took me tout the next obstacle. Water. The road was cut at the community boat ramp. Not much one can do about that so I turned around and walked back.

And I do have power of sorts. Couple solar panels, couple of deep cycle marine batteries and we have been keeping our phones and tablets fully charged. Could do the same with either the truck or the SUV, but I haven’t cranked either. My neighbors have. In fact the guy at the far end of the road has a small generator going. I hear it occasionally and he came by to let us know we could stash food in his freezer, charge our phones etc. Which we took advantage of. The food storing.

He laughed when I told  him I had a generator but wasn’t using it. They all think I am crazier then a shit house rat but seem to enjoy my company any which way

I did cook for everyone earlier today. By God’s good graces we don’t have much clean up to do. Us even less because I stashed most of our stuff. Nothing major, burgers and dogs, some chicken and fish. Stuff we needed to cook before it went bad. I cooked, kept an eye on some older kids and drank slightly chilled homemade wine while they all worked.

One of the other guys tried to AMOG me.  Some lame joke about me cooking and baby sitting. I laughed, said I didn’t want to break a nail and took a long pull off my bottle of wine. Amature. There he was picking up various bits of debris,  there I was enjoying myself, grilling, drinking and watching the kids and dogs run.

It’s a pretty good life

Truly we are blessed

Life is funny. I could tell the road being cut bothered some people. A quick plan, made up on the fly settled them down. Overt displays of masculine confidence and mastery over the world around you always settles the bitches. Of both sexes. The Girls slid up next to me after the ad-hoc meeting. Daddy likes

All the shit I have on hand for emergencies and I’m not really using any of it. It’s been a very mild disaster for us. More like camping at home. I could be bossier, but why?

I had some regular non treated 2×4’s stashed in the rafters of my garage. A little work with a hand saw and now we have some fire wood. I invited the neighborhood over, all 5 families but not sure any will show up.

Almost everything amuses me. This storm hasn’t been any different on that front. Was interesting watching the Betas be stoic and sort of flippant about the storm. Good, strong  family men. Yeoman worthy of the tittle. The kids have had a blast. My Lady Pit has run wild today because there is no place for her to run off to now that we are a mini island. She has knocked all the kids down at least once. On purpose each time. Girl hasn’t left Ton Spawn or the Girls alone. She sticks to them like glue these days.  I can tell the other dudes wives are happy. Their men were right, no need to evacuate, they can now rest in the strength and decsion making skills of their man. Lest for a few days.

Everyone enjoyed that feeling you get when things are better in the morning. I could tell they all took pride and enjoyment out of cleaning up after the storm, pride and enjoyment in the various clever tricks they came up with to over come the obstacles of having no power, running water and what not. Plus the shared experience of sheltering in place

Time to go put sauce on the chicken and check my trout line before it’s fire pit, wine and pitching woo time

I know many folks are suffering right now, but the Lord was kind to me and mine last night.

Y’all take care now