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On Tuesday night, Kenny and I headed in to NYC to see what was going on at The Ear. Same stuff, different year. Motorcycles, drinks (a $2.50 fountain Diet Pepsi  ) and chatting amongst our peers. You always end up meeting someone nice there.

While we were standing around, I saw this sticker proudly placed on someone's helmet:

I don't think I've ever met anyone who has been to the Isle of Man. Lucky bugger. Though I guess luck doesn't have too much to do with it. Planning and a credit card go a long way , I suppose. Tick one more down for the "To Do" column for me, please.

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I though that this was an interesting piece of graffiti that we saw while out for a ride two nights ago.

A person with a rattlecan or a bumpersticker has one shot at telling you something in that fleeting moment that you lay eyes on their handywork. If you stop to think about it, what they choose to tell you in that split second can be pretty interesting. More often than not I bet you don't come away with much but if the sun is setting just right and the planets are aligned, your synapses might just piece together something much bigger than a single world scrawled on the side of a farm truck.

Truth.

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I feel like I haven't been home in ages. As we arrived home from being away again, it really felt great to know that I don't have to be anywhere for the forseeable future. Now, don't get me wrong. I love to go places and see new things but every once in a while you just need to be home to recharge your batteries. And trim the hedges. Part of me felt a major wave of guilt for neglecting the house for so many weeks now. I'm fairly certain that we've got more weeds than flowers at this point.

Saturday we spent part of the day in Stony Creek, Connecticut. We took a nice hour long boat tour of the Thimble Islands.

I so wish I had the balls to move away from here. To move to a place where people say "Hello, how are you?" and actually give a crap what you answer in response. To a place that is small and neighborly, to a place that has Barn Dances... Someday.

As we were leaving lovely, little Stony Creek, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that made me double back for a closer look. As I pulled into the lot and feasted my eyes upon this curious beast, I hear off to my right the sound of Kenny's voice, calm but firm...

"No.
No, no, no.
We do not need a boatmobile.
No."

You know something, dear boy? We just might need a boatmobile. We do live on an island after all. Global warming, world gone asunder, terrorism and all that. We very well could need a boatmobile and you know what? We'll have you to thank when we're stuck in 78 bajillion hours of traffic trying to get off of this island in our dumb car. Won't you be sorry then?

• The LARC-V

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