Wondering what they are thinking

OK, so this may be a little politically incorrect, but until some one can convince me otherwise...

Any one who is at all aware of the world around them knows about the migration from northern Africa to Europe.  It is a big deal, my words do it little justice, causing major problems rippling throughout the whole world. Truly, I cannot even imagine the hardships involved to both the residents who hhave remained and those fleeing their homes' depression.

I was listening to an interview on NPR with one of the migrants from Syria. The man, a teacher, is married with at least one child and another on the way, and is looking for a better life for himself, and I hope his family.

The first thing he had to say was life was getting too bad and dangerous for him. So he left his family stuck someplace in war-torn Syria to "find a better life."

I would like to think I would handle it differently. Now let's remember, I am an arm chair progressive with high ideals and little to back them up. But leaving one's child and pregnant wife in a war zone to "find a better life," may not be the best way to protect one's family.

olc

Sometimes I get on the Grinner and nothing really happens. I just don't get the thrill of riding. Yes, I feel the wind in my face, the power of Milwaukee Iron, even the flow of the road beneath my tires bringing me to nirvana…kinda. Yet the thrill, the energy just does not envelop me. I’ll feel refreshed, a little, yet not rejuvenated.

Yesterday was an example of this syndrome. I hopped on the bike and went to the places I wanted. However, I felt nothing extraordinary. It was more like a chore instead of a pleasure. The bike handled well, the roads were open enough for me to have a little fun, but I asked myself, “Why am I out here, what's the purpose of this ride?” I got home feeling better than when I had left, yet kinda unfulfilled. I felt like I had wasted a couple hours even though I had spent them riding. It was all good though—I got a really good night's sleep.

Today though, it was all paid up in full. The Runtyun was not feeling so well, but I asked her if she wanted to ride—to go anyhow. The couch was more important to her than riding on the back of the Grinner. I guess I can understand, she was sick with a sore throat and recovering from a night at the State Fair.

I went anyhow.

I had a plan too. There is a road I have been wondering about. I wanted to see where it was going to take me. Like so many avenues in life it went around and about taking me on a circuitous route back to the main road, yet going no place further than I started. I began to wonder if this ride was going to end the same was as yesterdays...satisfied yet unsatiated. 

I decided to stop at Dugan's Pub in Brevard and put some food in my gullet. Sometimes food will help to elevate my mood (something about low blood sugar levels). I left that place feeling the adventure ahead, and the road was my vehicle to an adrenaline rush.

To get home, I could go the straight forward  way which would take about 45 minutes, or I could go up the Blueridge Parkway and see what the foliage was like, not to mention I would take rt. 276 up there.

Now this access road to the Parkway, which is a dream for any one who has ever ridden a bike was in front of me, and waiting. It is about 5 or 6 miles long and when there are few cars on it the riding is FUN! 

It has been awhile since I have ridden my Sportster the way it was designed to go, but the waiting was over. on this ride she rode like a 14 years' midnight dream...fast and uncontrolled. It slipped into and out of curves and twits with the thrill of long awaited kisses.

The few four wheeled cages ahead of us slipped behind us like a hand caressing a discarded lovers behind. Cast away while looking for the next conquest.

I have ridden this road numerous times and have always enjoyed it…every single time. This time though may have been the best ever. Maybe it was the combination of the first time out, few cars and something I just cannot define...a feeling of unity with the bike…the road and maybe a feeling of satisfaction knowing I had finally gotten the bike going and roaring her satisfaction.

The bike slid into turns, and flew out. It pushed me back off the saddle leaving switchback turns, and pulled from the handle bars all the while breaking into the next. I was able to look around, a little, and enjoy the river and some waterfalls. Mostly though, I felt the wind in my face and saw the clouds and blue sky above…my destination.

As all things in life though, this part of the journey had to end. The entrance to the Parkway came alone a little sooner than I wanted. I knew it was inevitable though and accepted the end of this part of the journey. 

The Parkway is always beautiful even though I knew that the colors were not at peak. I really wanted to feel the flow of the nature and the road while enjoying whatever she had to offer. The open sky above and landscape below filled my eyes with beauty and grandeur only Mother Nature can create. The greens of the trees speckled with orange, yellow and the bright reds of maples filled part of my vision. While the deep blue sky and pure white cumulus clouds distracted me from the road ahead.

I quickly found it again though, the road that is, but cars began to slow me down. They were a mere flick of the throttle—away and gone. I began to let the excitement of the ride up here slip away. Above me was an eagle, or hawk, soaring. Another car slowed my progress, I pulled in the clutch and felt the momentum slide away. A tunnel ahead and the car and I flowed through it. 

A dropped gear and a flick of the wrist and the car was in my mirror…where it belonged. The Grinner knew where to go and I began to soar with the bird above.

Miles later, I came back to the Grinner, a grin on my face the likes of which rivaled the flaming sun. My friend, the hawk, had drifted away and I had to pay attention to the cars in front.

Bikes were going up up toward…Mount Pisgah I guess, and I wondered if they were going to the same magical place I had just been through.

olc

Aw Labor Day Weekend

Labor Day weekend was awesome! It started out with a laundry session and got better and better! Truly, this may sound weird, but it worked for me. Then I played around with some photos on the computer. Well, actually I tried to install and start using Lightroom. But I ran into some problems there, Not such a great thing, but it's OK. Then I went to a car show just down the road and got some really good pictures of a few cars.

Back home again, and a couple final touches on the Grinner. I wanted to use a jig to make sure the rear wheel was aligned properly. I did it withe a bent out of shape clothes hanger!  

And I wanted to have a look at some of the pics of the car show. I think with minimal work, there are some very good shots. One guy I talked with did his own pin-striping. I have one of his T-bird insignia with the pin-striping above it. Nice!

(A little later)

Yeah, there are some nice shots, I just worked on some of them. Have a look and check out my other shots at: http://thewonderinglenzofolc.blogspot.com

In my mind, I had planned on doing something with the Runtyun, but she had other plans, So I was free again tonight! The Grinner was sitting around looking lonely. Well, I just could not have that.

The Grinner and I skidded out of the gravel driveway soon after. I have tried to explain in many posts the thrill of riding, but they are merely words and words don't translate well into visceral emotions. In time and with more experience, I hope to do better.

When riding, I always look around at everything and see the expressions of other riders. A lot of the time their faces are hidden behind helmets so no one can see their emotions. However, many riders like to feel the wind, and eat bugs too. I see a lot of grimacing faces, yet I know that these people would not be riding if they were not getting some kind of fulfillment from it. Perhaps they are just experiencing the sour taste of the latest insect that got caught in their teeth!

During this ride, I could have ingested a whole swarm of angry Killer Honey Bees and the biggest grin I held would not have left my face. It has been a long road the Grinner and I have been down, to get to this point. The bike itself is in pretty good shape. It is just the accessories like tires and turning signals that have been causing bumps in the road.

The Grinner is an older bike and I am finally getting comfortable with it, but as with any custom anything, it is a work in progress. It is rolling now though. And the feel of power and control I get totally overruns the feeling of personal control lacking in my everyday life.

Riding out to Lake Lure on the back roads of Arden, Fletcher and Hendersonville may not sound like the most inspiring of rides. Yet, the familiarity of those roads makes them more fun to me. I know the course, when to slow for a sharp corner, how much to push for speed and when to just enjoy what is ahead. 

The pent up frustrations of life and work washed off my back in mere moments of starting the engine and feeling the bikes’ vibration and power. Even using the turning signal was a joy! The frustrations involved in getting the bike to working order took a moment longer, yet they washed away and flew into the wind like a huge wasp bouncing off the faceplate of a full helmet.

I stayed around The Tiki bar for a minute and then went to another place, the Straightaway Cafe, which is down the road a minute. The band, The Mutt, (I am still working on my skills with Photoshop, for pleas forgive the graininess of this image.)

was so good and animated the seat I was sitting on was dancing.

I had the company of a very nice lady to enjoy this moment with. Finally, I headed home exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. I slept the sleep of a contented man, finally getting out of bed 2 hours later than usual, so well rested I felt that sleep would not be necessary for a very long time.

After getting up and having a cup, I started working some of the pictures from the day before. There are a few that are pretty nice. Go have a look at my photo blog: http://thewonderinglenzofolc.blogspot.com I'm working on more images all the time, so please have a look. More importantly, if you have any comments, even if they are merely comments in your brain, leave them on my site!

This past weekend has ended, but the memories and people I enjoyed, will last a long time.

olc

bikes, repairs and memories

It is funny how some things in life,  relatively minor in some cases, can over shadow one's whole outlook.

All of my life I have had a love of motorcycles and riding. My first vehicle was a Honda 175 Scrambler. It looked something like this:

 It set the tone of my life, or maybe it merely reflected the trend it was going toward. Is there a real difference? Back in the day, riding that bike was everything that freedom meant to a loner teenager. I never wanted to be a "Biker." I still don't understand why a hobby that professes individualism, one that celebrates the loner, seems to attract such tribalism. Nor did I really understand why those who rode in gangs found it so appealing. Back in those days of high school glory I liked to ride, ride to no where, I still do. As I got older, that love of riding only grew in intensity. I felt free, unencumbered. I could feel the world flying by. I had control of where I was going.

I played around with the engine on that bike a little, mostly just to see what would happen if I turned a screw here or there. Yet, I never really got into the guts, I never really saw myself as a mechanic. I just wanted to see what would happen.

Well four bikes and way too many years later, I now ride a Harley-Davidson Sportster. When I got on this bike for the first time, it was like the first time on that little Scrambler---the first time I knew how to really ride that thing, I mean.

I have been riding the Grinner for some time now and feel very comfortable on it, but like any high performance machine, even that old Honda, it needs to be maintained. I get to work on the Grinner in order to keep to on the road. Again with the whole mechanic thing getting in the way of riding. 

There are many guys and I suppose gals too, that enjoy working on their bikes I however, find it an impediment to the real reason for having a motorcycle...RIDING THE DARN THING!

Awhile ago, I decided to put new turning signals on the Grinner. Going to the local HD dealer I purchased a nice set to replace the old. They were on sale and seemed simple enough to replace. I got home and shit hit the fan just about from the start. Let's remember that I am a challenged back yard/shadetree mechanic on my best days---they are long past. I ended up having do a lot more than expected. Also, I suspect that I got the wrong part from the start. After two weeks and many calls back to the dealer, I finally got the rear signals working and got the bike put back together. But am still trying to figure out how to install the front.

Yes I did feel a certain sense of accomplishment in completing the task, but I still had the front ones to install and I had a nagging feeling that something was not right. I went on and cut the old signal cables anyhow and proceeded to figure out that the old mount was not compatible with the new equipment. It is a good thing that I did not cut the cables as close to as I could have...

I spliced the old signal back on and remounted it.

At least I was able to ride the grinner to the the shop. I'm Riding Again!

Again, I felt the thrill of riding a powerful machine. I have to admit it was a little muted, my exhilaration that is, by all the crap I had to go through to get to this point, but still...

Now I get to wait 'til Tuesday to figure out what we can do to fix this new issue. At least I can ride now. She is smooth and happy to run for me. The road ahead is long and full of adventure. Even now I feel the pent up frustration leaving, even though the Grinner still needs a little work, it is ready to go and find some fun.

Aw, the life on two wheels.

olc

Those on the side of the road and food

Someone with whom I have an immense respect for once told me that he never gave money to beggars on the street. Yet, when someone would come around to the back of his restaurant he would find a away for them to earn it.

This left a question in my echoing brain...If he really did not need the work done, why make a bum work for it, why not just give them the money? The restaurant owner went on and on about making them earn the money and how it would teach them responsibility.

It came down to never give anyone a free lunch.

Today I was in a funk, depressed about the way everything is going and totally unsure what I could do about it. I'd had a shitty day yesterday and was basically in a blue haze. While I was driving to my next delivery I got off the highway and saw a guy with a sign asking for any contribution. "Anything Helps," was what his placard said.

Usually, I ignore these guys, I think there is some kind of organization in the area that sends people out to beg for money and then pool it all together. Somehow this seems dishonest to me. At any rate, I thought that maybe I needed to do a random act of kindness to help elevate my fowl mood. But the words of my mentor echoed in my brain.

So, I pulled my hand away from my wallet and decided to give him my lunch. After all, I had some money to buy lunch later, right? Yeah, I know, "Never give a free lunch." I thought, what if this guy really is in need, maybe this food would help more than cash?  At least he could not use the food to buy booze just to get drunk.

Usually when I do this, give my lunch to someone, I feel like I have done something good. But my suspicions about some kind of organization working the streets for money spoiled that gratification. Also the knowing that the only reason I did this was to make me feel better helped to spoil my euphoria.

So, why do we give to charities? There are a number of reasons, or symptoms for this behavior: Philanthropic, the desire to help the down-trodden, some people have an excess of cash, some just want the look of gratitude they get.

I guess I am of the latter category. I don't have that much to give, nor do I have a whole lot of happiness. One of the few times I know that I have done something good is when I give something to someone who has less than me.

In a way this is a very selfish thing I do. By giving, or helping someone in need, I am giving happiness to me. Now this can create an inner conflict, like the one we talked about above: should I give to someone knowing that the REAL reason I am doing it is to ease my inner turmoil? Or should I keep my lunch and let others feel the bliss of giving?

This is compounded by the knowledge, or feeling that there is some kind of scam going on, thus negating any good I may be giving the individual.

When I got through the light I had given the guy my lunch, yet felt no euphoria. Later in the day, I bought lunch at Hardy's or someplace and realized that in effect I had given the guy $10.00 and had gotten no real emotional boost.

olc

No Real Choice Part 3

Sam let his mind wonder as it does when he gets stressed. His rollercoaster mind went to overdrive, bouncing from one thought to another. The ride started, as it does with work and his current project, the development of a software package coordinating various data bases to make corporate research more efficient. His firm had been hired to create the interface. It was an interesting coincidence that his client was a non-profit supporting the LBGTQ community.

Then the roller coaster in his mind had started going up the first hill. One day Sam asked his daughter if she had seen or met any boys that she wanted to date. He remembered her response as  peculiar in that she said nothing really, she just shrugged her shoulders and changed the subject. No, he thought it was not really strange for her, it was how she dealt with conversations she did not want to deal with. 

Kammie and Sally had been friends for as long as Sam remembered. They met in school he thought, and had always been close since. He thought Kammie was a good kid and he knew her parents. They'd had many cook-outs over the years. He never told Sally how he felt about her homosexuality, he just told her that he supported her and loved her. Yet, he had to admit to himself that it disturbed him a little. 

He grew up in a world where men and women got married and lived happily ever after. Yet, his first job was in a restaurant and most of the waiters were gay. At the time he did not know about gay women except what he had seen in Playboy. That brought a smile to his face, all those magazines between his mattresses and the ones he found in his fathers dresser...

He remembered reading some sci-fi story that dealt with over population and how the society dealt with it. It turns out, in the story, that there was a decline in fertility in women and a raise in declared homosexuals, both men and women due to overpopulation. He wondered if that was happening here and now.

About that time, Ed made his way back and slumped into the chair with a sigh. The two men, the two fathers sat in silence for a time. Sam let the quiet continue while still wondering down his own internal road.

The hospital waiting room made him a little uncomfortable. Just waiting, made him itchy to do something. I am a man of action, that thought made him smile. In truth, he always felt that he had to be moving and doing something, Batman he was not, but it always felt better moving. Sam looked over at his friend and saw his discomfort.

Being a man of action, Sam said, "Let's go outside, this hospital is getting too close for me." He saw Ed's hesitation and stated, "You know it's gonna be couple of hours before Mandy is released. And just sitting here is gonna drive us both crazy."

Ed hesitated a moment. "Yeah, there's nothing for us to do here, let's get some air, clear our heads," Finally, he stiffly stood up and made his way to the exit. Sam motioned to the girls where they were going. Sally nodded and turned back to her girlfriend. 

The day sky had darkened with the threat of an impending storm. "Just what we need, a tornado to blow this stinkin' place off the map," was the quip from Ed.

Sam saw the anguish trying to take over his friend, yet hesitated to reach out. "Does Alice know yet?"

 "No. I am not sure where she is right now. We talked a couple weeks ago. She said something about going someplace for a while for work." He rubbed his eyes. "I was not really paying attention. You know how she rambles about shit. Oh yeah, I think she said she was going to Topeka, their office is there, or something like that. I kinda envy the way she travels. She says it is a pain living out of a suitcase, but I think she really enjoys it..."

"Ed?"

Ed continued, "Yeah, I know I ramble a little too.

"I got the call about when I was finishing lunch. I was outside the warehouse, sitting at one of those stone tables. We were talking about canoeing. It's just about that time of the year," A slight smile slipped past his worried eyes. "They called me to the office over the speakers. I've done that more than once; called someone to the office for an emergency. Just about that time Dan, you know him right? Dan came out the door and started over to our table. I flashed on Mandy's clothes, but tried to deny it. As Dan got to our table, I remembered it was Gym day." His head dropped a little. A deep sighing breath shook Ed's frame.

"Ed?"

Ed continued, "He said there was an incident at school and that I should go. That was when he said I should come here, not the school. And now here we are."

The two fathers stood in silence starring out over the mountains surrounding and their stormy clouds over them. 

"Wish I had a beer right now," Ed finally let out. Sam looked at his friend. "No I don't." he thought a minmute, "I have always said that when I really need a drink is when I need to stay away from it." A little  grin escaped Ed's worried mouth and Sam could see he was visiting a memory. "My Chief always said just that when we were on liberty, or if one of the guys was having girlfriend troubles, tis was when we should stay away."

Sam waited.

"How long have you known about Sally?" asked Ed. "I mean...you know what I mean."

"You mean when did she tell me, or when did I begin to know she did not like boys?"

"When did she tell you, I guess."

Sam took a deep breath and said, "I don't know, maybe about 6 or 8 months ago."

"How did it go?"

"Her mom messed around that way."

"That way?" said Ed managing a little smirk.

Sam looked at him with a chagrinned smile. "Yeah I know, we're supposed to except how they are and not question it. But, you know me. I don't think of it as a choice, but you know I think some people DO have a choice, and some do it just to mess with some people's heads."

"Have you heard from her lately?"

A deep sigh, "No. The last I heard, she was with some older guy in Chicago. I think I don't really care. I got the prize. I won. I guess because of that, I sometimes wonder if Sally is really gay, or just experimenting." Sam thought a moment and continued, "You know, I remember when I was that age," he looked at his friend, "Do you? I remember wanting to experiment...with everything. Of course we did not call it experimenting. Sometimes I wonder, I kinda hope, that this is what Sally is doing...what is going on in Sally's head, maybe she is just trying something out."

"Kinda like going after the black girl, instead of the blond?" finished Ed.

"Yeah, I think. Now, because of all the equal rights chatter, it is more OK to be gay. Come out of the closet, I mean."

"OK? No. I don't think OK is the reason. Maybe 'challenging' is the right word, or 'exciting'."

"You know Ed, I really don't care how she feels, I mean boys or girls, I just want her to be happy, well grounded. I don't know how to say it...Maybe 'At ease with herself'."

"But you would like her to have kids someday."

"Yeah. And I have to admit, I want them from a 'traditional' relationship. I think that may not happen though." Sam paused a moment, then jumped into it and said, "Ed, why is it easier to except a gay child, than it is for a trans one?"

A sharp glare from Ed made Sam begin to understand some of the shit his frien was going through. He is all turned around in his head. This thought brought a heaving sigh.

"I asked her to keep quiet about it for now...until I could get a grip on it. I'm still working on the whole concept." A little smile of chagrin spread across his face. He looked up at his friend and said, "I think it has to do with this, I mean her having a cock, thinking he is a she. I'm sorry, but that confuses the hell out of me."

"Imagine how Mandy feels," said Sam.

"It may be easier than you think, Sam. Let's remember, they don't have our years of prejudice to overcome."

"How did you find out about Mandy? I know it must be hard to get into that mind set. Calling Andy---Mandy."

"Yeah, I know. I still slip up. I hope after a bit it will become more natural."

Sam kept quiet, waiting for Ed to continue.

"She was acting kinda funny walking around in her mothers' clothes. I keep some around for when she comes by. She was spending a lot of time in the bathroom and when Andy came out his face was always squeaky clean. In the beginning, I thought maybe it had to do with with missing her mother. At least that is how I wanted to believe it. After a while, I got up the courage to ask her what was going on. After some talking and even tears on her part, it all came rushing out. Truth is, I am glad it took time for me to get my head around the whole thing, 'cause I don't know how I would have responded otherwise. That was about the same time I think, that Sally told you."

Sam was proud of his friend, he could tell the man was on the very raw edge of his emotions, frankly so was he, yet he kept the ball rolling. 

"It was a little shocking even though I kinda knew, "said Ed. "At first, I thought he was gonna come out as gay. Then he told me he identified as a girl. I gotta admit, that set me back on my ass. The truth is, I didn't know there was a difference."

"I think that the next generation of parents will have it easier," said Sam. "We are the first ones who have to deal with openly gay and transgender people. Our kids are the ones who will be the next set of parents and they are the ones experiencing our tribulations."

"'Tribulations?"' laughed Ed. "Now that's a ten dollar word! But it works here. We are new to this aren't we?"

"I love my kid, she knows it, I know and every one who knows us, knows it too. But, I gotta admit, I think it would be easier to deal with boys, than what I am going through right now."

Ed's big paw of a hand cuffed Sam's shoulder, "I hear that, my friend."

"Why is it so hard to except all this?"

Another sigh from the big man, "Maybe because we have to except all this," Ed turned around and looked back at the hospital."

"Yeah."

No Real Choice Part II

His mind wondered back to the days when he was a dishwasher at some restaurant in town. Those were fun days, he'd had a motorcycle and a couple girlfriends. There was one draw back though, he also remembered the waiters trying to get him alone in the walk-in so they could "talk". After a time his "gaydar" was honed to the point where he knew when someone was gay and trying to hit on him. His gaydar saved him from one or two potentially dangerous situations. But he also learned that just because someone was gay, did not mean they were any less of a man then a straight one. He made some friends with those guys.

Recently, Sally had told him that she did not like boys. In fact, she said she was seeing another girl and she thought it was fun to be with her girlfriend. Sam tried to take it in stride. Kammie, her girlfriend, was nice and Sam thought they looked comfortable together. Sally assured her father that they were not having sex. But, he had seen them snuggling and kissing goodnight, looking very comfortable. He tried to let it go, yet his mind kept getting stuck. 

"So guys, what's this all about?" Sam thought he knew, but did not want to jump to any conclusions. He felt they needed to tell, clear the air. It was not really a confessional, but a catharsis. He nodded at some chairs. Sitting, Sam waited for one of the two to start talking. All he got was silence.

"So?" He prompted. Only doe eyed silence. "Come on, why are we here?"

Now it turned to teary eyed silence as their doe eyes liquified.

Finally Kammie said, "They beat the shit out of Andy. Now is he here and so are we. She, I mean he would be here for us..."

"She? Hmm, Sally made that same slip earlier. Is there something I should know? Kids don't go around beating people this bad for no reason. It almost sounds like they were trying to kill him, or were afraid of him somehow."

More silence, but their body language especially Sally's, told Sam the dam was about to break. This is the hardest time, waiting for them to find their words, he sat patiently.

Before the moment completely passed Sam said, "There is more to this than a locker-room beat down, right?" He tried to show as much compassion as he could without going over the top. It seemed to work a little, both girls seemed to relax some.

Sam waited some more. Finally Kimmie took a deep breath. Sam had to admit to himself that he wished it had been his daughter.

"Andy likes to call herself Mandy. We all call her Mandy. Mandy is short for..."

"Amanda, I know. Do you think Mandy was hurt because of that?" He took a deep breath of acceptance.

Good, now we have that hurtle passed. And the tears started flowing.

After a long moment, Sally was able to ask, "Did you know? How did you know?"

Sam sat back in his chair and thought about his answer. He took a deep breath, "I didn't really know, but I suspected it. Maybe the way Mandy dresses, maybe the slips everyone makes when talking about him?"

"HER!" came the immediate retort. "You need to say, 'her' when talking about Mandy. She thinks of herself as a girl even though she's in a boy's body."

"OK. I'll try. But you gotta remember I knew him as a boy until just now, OK? It will take a minute to get used to. So you think he--she, I mean," Sam saw both girls getting ready to jump on his missed pronoun. "So you think they beat Mandy because of all that?

"Well, yeah," was Sally's indignant reply. "considering what they were saying."

"Oh, I see. I'm thinking; 'queer,' 'freak,' 'fag,' That kind of thing?" That brought more tears and sobbing.

"And worse things. I'm not going to say them and I hope I never hear those awful words again!" said Kammie. Sally’s eyes were filling with tears, but she managed to nod at Kammie’s words. Sam thought,  Me too, But life gives us a hard road to follow.

After a long sigh Sam managed, "Do you know what the doctors are saying?" Sam asked looking up.

While the three were talking, a big and burley man had entered the waiting room . Mandy's father walked into the patient lounge joining them. Worry lined the parents' face, his normally keen and excited attitude was muted. Anxiety lined his every movement, it filled his words. "Good news, bad news. How can there be anything good out of this shit? The Doctor says the good news is that there no  serious internal injuries. Her Liver is bruised and stuff like that, nothing that can't be healed with time. That's the good news, I guess.

"A couple of ribs were broken, his---her ankle somehow got sprained and fingers were twisted badly." It was hard to see this strong man so visibly shaken. Sam had known Ed for many years, known him as a decisive and focussed man. They had gone fishing and hiking many times with the kids, yet today he was raw with anxiety and concern for his son(?)daughter. 

This brought up another concern for Sam, did he know about his son's gender identification? Sam did not want to be the one to inform Ed about his son. Today was hard enough as it was.

Many's father kept going on, "They tell me the broken nose and cheekbones will heal with little scaring. One doctor said he did not think plastic surgery was going to be needed. I guess that's good." He pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and wiped his eyes, then nose.

Sam reached out to his friend's shoulder motioning the girls to stay behind. The two men sat in a corner facing each other. He could feel the anguish flowing from the man. "Why did this happen?" asked Sam, trying to gage what Ed knew about his son/daughter.

"Mandy wanted to try on a camisole under her shirt. It was the first time, that I know of, she had done this." Sam drew a slight sigh of relief. "You knew about this right, That my Andy thinks of herself as Mandy, right?" He could see that Ed was regaining some of himself.

"I had my suspicions Ed, but no one really ever told me."

Ed nodded, "I forgot that today was gym day. Having to change in the locker room." Ed sat up a little, "Remember that? It was like something we did to prove we were becoming men. I guess maybe Mandy had something else to prove, I dunno. They tell me that Mandy started to change and someone saw the camisole. I told her that we could make some kind of arrangement to change for gym, but she said no, not yet. I think she forgot about gym today, too. At least I hope so..."

Ed cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me a minute, I gotta use the head." Sam remembered that he had spent time in the Navy. 

"Yeah, sure. I'll be here."

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