This is a short article that I wrote for "Roads" the Kawasaki owners club magazine, however since the subject matter did not emphasize motorcycle or parts sales it was not accepted for publication:

Outta here!

“Truckin’ got my chips cashed in.

Keep truckin’, like the do-dah man.

Together, more or less in line,

 just keep truckin’ on.”

I’m stuck here in the office and this Grateful Dead song has been in my head all day long.  Over and over it plays on my internal record player, telling me to get out. I’m tired of looking at my computer screen. I’ve been here all day,   I need to get out,  I wanna go riding. 

Go for a ride.  I gotta go riding.  I don’t care where to, it doesn’t matter for how long, I just gotta go riding.  Give me a semi-believable excuse and I’m outta here.  Maybe I can run over to the auto parts store or maybe to the office supply store.  That would be a reason, YES, that’s the ticket.  I’ll go to the office supply store. It’s further away and should take about 15 minutes longer than anyplace else.  If I plan it right there is this cool road with twists and turns and very little traffic.   

OK that’s the plan.  But why do I have to go? 

 Darn, haven’t thought that far ahead yet. What do we need?  Check the drawer, got staples, got pens. What about paper clips? Don’t have any in my desk.  If I’m out everybody else must be out too.  This is a necessity, gotta go.    

Should I pay cash or get petty cash from finance? Nah just buy the box and turn in the receipt, daylight is wasting.  

When did that voice mail message show up?  Leave the desk for one minute and somebody calls.  (Note to self, put black tape over message light on phone).  

Got everything, helmet, gloves.  Where is the boss, should I tell him (or her)?  Nah, just go!  The timing looks good.  There is no one standing between me the door and the parking lot where my bike is.  Sure hope nobody is watching, or maybe I do.  What is the ramification if the office runs out of paper clips?  It will be chaos, loose papers everywhere, no organization. I had better let everybody know that I’m going.  The companies future is at stake, there will be nothing to hold us together.  I will probably get a raise or maybe a pat on the back from the president, disaster being narrowly averted.  When I return the applause will be deafening - an after hours party at the local watering hole in my honor will most likely will have been planned by the time of my triumphant return. Its my duty to go, anything less is being derelict of duty.

That song is back….

“Truckin’, up to buffalo

 been thinkin’, you got to mellow slow

Takes time, you pick a place to go,

 and just keep truckin’ on.”

That’s it. I’m going for a ride!