Faster, faster.

I felt a little tense this evening. 

Thought I had it together today, but had to deal with a little bit of a curve ball.

Oh, what to do when you've got a lot of untapped, anxious energy? There's always another day of martial arts, but I was already at home and West Wind was closed.

In the past few weeks, whenever I've felt the need for speed, or alone-time, or whatever else gets you out on a motorcycle at night, I've cruised around Alameda. I'd hit all my usual spots and tried out anything that looked good to me. I think I've covered 60% of the island. I've covered 90% by car, but it's more adventurous to do it on a bike. With all I'd seen during my night rides, there was still one place I had left to go: The Hornet. 

I'm not cocky, but I'm pretty brave on a motorcycle. I ride as safely as I can, to the point of paranoia. But that doesn't mean that I won't venture anywhere new. On the contrary,  I rush in where wise men fear to tread. If it looks dark and spooky, I'll head for it. Please note that there's a difference between spooky and dangerous. I don't do dangerous. You could argue that the meanings are interchangeable, but I would have to disagree. It's case by case, if you ask me.

Either way, I wouldn't go near the Hornet because I felt both spooked and in danger.

I'm not gonna try to explain away what goes through me when I'm convinced to not do something; I'll just say that I'm grateful to my guardian angels for being so verbal. 

These guardians are very vocal when it comes to my being anywhere near the Hornet. Normally, I'd get inside the entryway and a voice would tell me to BOUNCE, niggah. (That's right, I used the "N-word". Get over it; I'm part black.) The Hornet's one of the most haunted places in Cali, and probably the most haunted ship in the world. No wonder I'm a little iffy on hanging out.

But tonight was my third try and Trent Reznor was screaming in my ear. I guess his verbal commands superseded all others this evening, and I brought my bike up to 50 mph in a 25 zone. There are no other cars on the road in the naval air base at night and it felt great. I roared by all the ships down to the Hornet, looked at her and thought, Yeah, I'm good. I got here and now I can go home. Let's roll, Trent. I hung a u-turn and sped back through the darkened streets toward the brightly-lit Atlantic Ave.

Ironically, I felt like I had exercised a demon of my own. As I turned onto Central Ave, Radiohead's 'Creep' came on the mp3 player and I eased into its chill sounds. Perfect timing, I thought. I'm a weirdo, all right.