Friday, September 12, 2008


You're getting this post because Seth Godin speaks to the same issues I am trying to address, only from a business perspective.


Is it worth doing?
What was my impact?
Will it matter in the long haul?
What sort of connections did I create?
Wherever you live, whatever you do, you have an obligation.

Make today a productive day.

A low, slow wave,

Joe Rocket

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Goodbye Summer

Holy crap it's late! What am I doing up? I'll be luggage tomorrow!

Hello all. We're down to the last couple of weekends of summer and a perfect time to ride. The weather is fine, cool in the morning and evening and adequately warm during the day. Riding at this time of year in New Hampshire means wearing layers and maybe even breaking out your leathers again, for the second time in the season. I love that first cold snap that means it's leather weather. There's nothing quite like wearing a thick leather jacket with cold air blowing in your face.

Riding in the White Mountains in the Fall is sensory overload. Bright sunny days, filled with winding roads and unbeatable views. But, we're not there yet. The leaves have only begun to show some change in color and it will be a month before we'll see full color. So, there's still time before the roads are clogged with buses filled with the sightseeing eldery, followed by poky RVs jammed with lazy families.

It's still possible to get a lot more rides in and maybe a camping trip (or two?). The nights are getting colder but, with the right gear, the right tent and sleeping bag, it's very do-able. Of course, we'll need a fire, some fire-water and some bottles to melt.

My last post had some people questioning my state-of-mind. People! It's not that bad. The ledge is only four feet off the ground. All I'm trying to say is that I want more out of life. I guess I always have.

It's funny how you pass through jobs and end up in various spots. I long for the days when I felt like I was part of the greater good, part of the hive. I had a large circle of friends, vendors and associates back in New York City and it felt like we were all doing something good. Truth is, we were all busting our butts to make money for someone else. Still, it felt good to be part of a team. My peers and I were all in it together. Now, I just feel like it's more of a solo act.

Still, I have my bike and that brings me joy. Somedays, though, I want to ride right past the office and keep going. It's hard to look outside and see it parked so close on a beautiful sunny day. I'll admit to the occasional long lunch, getting lost on the way back to the office. I figure it makes us even for all the days I sit in that stilted environment all day long. One of the perks of working in the city was the ever-changing backdrop. I'm bored by the town I work in. It's filled with hippies and blue-hairs. Okay, to be fair, that is not MY assessment but it's spot on.

A friend just sold his bike this past weekend and is in the hunt for another. Truth be told, he did it solely for financial reasons. He can't afford the monthly nut. I assumed that he was done for the year. "Nope.", he said. He's going to buy a (used) car and then buy a beater bike with the leftover money. He's looking for two wheels under $2,500. What a great attitude. He refuses to give up riding despite his financial hardship. This is the third bike I've seen him on in two years. He buys and sells regularly. Like our friend Kevin, who would buy a used bike at the start of the season, put 4-5,000 miles on it and sell it at the end of the year for close to what he bought it. Smart.

I had a good ride this past Sunday. It was a mix of back roads and slow sweepers with a bit of highway hard-charging as well. And we revisited an old favorite spot for a bite and a warm-up. The lanky blonde waitperson/barmaid was so easy on the eyes, for once I was speechless. Oh sure, smarminess floated just beneath the surface but, for the most part, I behaved.

The clock on the wall says it's past 2AM so I need to go now. Hopefully, I can get some sleep before I have to rise again.

I'll talk to you later.

A low, drowsy wave,

Joe Rocket