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Where’s the Love?

            I am writing today just coming off a horrible weekend. I received a call early Saturday morning that one of our own died in the wind on Friday night. Our club brother was coming home from his company Christmas party and for whatever reason that may remain forever unknown, he failed to navigate a curve and struck a street post. Another club brother with whom he lived with and worked with had arrived home from the same party just minutes before and heard the crash. He and his ole lady jumped in their truck to investigate the sound and found our brother laying in the grass next to his demolished bike. They gave great effort but were unable to get him breathing again, and he passed right there in his arms on the side of the road. I don’t write this looking for sympathy. We most likely have all lost club brothers if you’ve been in the scene for any time. This one currently stings.

            When I last saw Petey a week ago, we shared some laughs and smiles. He had a heart of gold. A GIANT of a soul in a small statured body. He never met anyone who wasn’t instantly his friend. I have never heard him speak ill of anyone, ever. I write this as a simple reminder to us all. Do not wait to tell your club brothers that you love them. In fact, generally my last words spoken to any of my club brothers when I depart them with a hug and handshake is, “Love ya Bro”. This isn’t a canned exit statement. I mean it. But how many of you don’t say it, or maybe you say it but rarely show it? Do you only see your chapter club brothers at club functions and never anywhere else? Do they have kids? Have you ever met them? Have you ever cooked out at your house for your club brother? Have they ever been to your house, or even know where you live? Or visa versa?

            Look, I know there are many ways to show love. Tough Love. Intimate Love. Quiet love. Conversational Love. Dedicated Love. Everyone is different about how they give and receive love. I might suggest that you don’t waste one minute of one day not showing or telling your club brothers that you come into contact with that you love them. We all have an expiration date, and none of us know when. Petey’s was last Friday night. I wish I had known this, so I could have told him one more time, “Love ya Bro”.

My Road Name is Tabasco. Keep it Real.


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