I remember when I first started riding. I would roll up to other cyclists and they would look at my bike. The judgement was obvious. You are what you ride and what you wear. The other side of the coin is, when you get the good gear, they wonder if you are genuine or if you just bought the package. The hard core's are always trying to spot the posers. It must be an ancient survival trait, to sort out the enemy in the tribe, and keep the bloodlines free of those in the genetic shallow end. It is the root of prejudice, but the reality is, we all have a concept of who we are, and no one wants to mingle below their station. We all pretend we don't give a shit what people think, but when you have that awkward moment of being displaced, your bones rattle.
My whole life I have been at the party, but never on the a-list. I was a skateboarder, surfer, musician, and a manager. There were plenty of times that I was on the cool side of the velvet rope, but I was never really a member of any of those clubs. I did what I always have done, I squeaked by.
People will always tell you to remain thankful, and point out the great things that you have; family, love, and health. I am aware that I am blessed and that the existence of everyone hangs by tenuous threads. We are all just a car accident, or a doctors diagnosis away from oblivion, and this knowledge has never made me feel better about wanting more. I have been in record company offices. I have had some ricochets with famous people. I have had a brief period of moderate wealth. I have traveled the world, but I always had to endure the up and down stares of those that truly belong. They have a secret language, a posture and an air of entitlement, that sends out a rich pheromone to all others of their ilk. They can spot an impostor at a hundred paces. That's who I am, an imposter
The problem with going to the V.I.P. room and not being welcome, is the long walk home. The place where reality meets expectation. The line where the facts meet the dreams. The place where the party talk and the hang over, walk hand in hand. The adjustment to the upgrade takes seconds, but a step backward is a long, painful, journey.
I will always be more comfortable holding the door, than walking through it. I am grateful for the glimpse, and even though I was a thief in the temple, I did light a candle. The game goes on, and there is never enough to bridge the gap to happiness. We all know it's not about things you can buy. It's about being centered. It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you have. I am very happy to be back among my own, and I am in desperate need of a new dream.
More on the trip later......