St. Pete. Bikefest

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As a writer, I occasionally run into certain situations that absolutely prevent me from making a definitive decision regarding the piece of prose that I am working on. This often blocks me from making the best presentation of a column that I do for any particular entity. As a run of the mill poor redneck trailer trash biker, I often don’t see things ahead on the road. At certain times you may have a destination in mind for the things that you must accomplish. Sometimes everything goes smoothly and you go gather all the things required for the task and simply return home or to the job site. On other occasions the regular daily process of obtaining that particular laundry list of items may be cut short due to a vendor’s lack of stock or perhaps when other unforeseen obstacles rear their ugly heads. I have a myriad of examples but recently a few come to mind. I may have discussed in the past the lack of availability of walls for sale at Wal-Mart. I also indicated that there were no steins on sale at Stein-Mart. Everyone already knows that you can’t buy a home at Home Depot or an office at Office Depot so I refuse to continue my simplistic diatribe regarding misleading corporate names. I’m not a real big fan of major corporations anyhow so I can’t try to suggest a better title for those outlets. Either way, we all must obtain the things needed to accomplish the task at hand so when you know the necessity and have the wherewithal to get the items required, you simply venture out and acquire the goods.

Once I needed to get a couch for the trailer. Guests who had the nuts to visit the trailer park (this includes Mike and Spyke) were getting tired of sitting on the old greasy milk crates that I use for working on motorcycles and other ‘high altitude’ work, so I took my old truck and went to a used furniture store to attempt to make a swimmingly wonderful deal on a slightly used sofa that I had seen sitting in front of the place as I was riding by on the bagger. I mean, it looked pretty good and I suppose that the price was reasonable, but why did the proprietor try to bundle the deal with an “Occasional Chair”??? I didn’t need (and didn’t have room for) anything except the sofa. Besides that—“What the hell is an Occasional Chair?” I asked. For some reason, the owner of the business couldn’t come up with a good answer and suggested that it was something that only was used every now and then by people that didn’t desire to sit upon the floor, as was the custom in his country. I figured all this out pretty quickly and left with only the couch. I just couldn’t get the concept of the additional furniture that would be used only ‘occasionally.’ Besides, I’m no slave to fashion or décor so I left befuddled regarding the suggestion that I would need such a piece.

The ‘Occasional Sheriff’ on the other hand is something that I am somewhat familiar with. I remember a time when I acted as the ‘designated dummy’ that was obligated me to go fetch some brew for a party. I went to a liquor store that had a pretty good deal on But Light and I was able to load six 18 packs on the bagger. Yeah, I admit that it looked kinda funny, but I had used a bunch of bungee cords and a short piece of rope to load the brew on the rear seat and luggage rack. On a dark back road a good distance from town, I was simply cruising along at the obligatory 10 miles over the speed limit when I was spied by the ‘occasional sheriff.’ Usually, no law enforcement personnel ever hang out around this area due to the lack of ‘business’ to be done in this vicinity. But I suppose that this wasn’t my lucky day. I was surprised when I saw the blue lights come on, largely because I wasn’t going all that fast and I never worried about DUI or anything else because I had only consumed a couple of beers before I went on the run. But as usual the occasional sheriff had that text-book list of demands. “Driver License, Insurance, Immigration Card and keep yer hands where I can see ‘em”… I’m just sitting there on the bike on the side of the road while he checks all my credentials and when comes back he had some interesting questions: “Do you know why I stopped you?” To which I responded “Uhhh, I guess cause you wanted to check out my really cool bike” (A moment of silence) “Boy, you gonna drink all this beer by yerself?” Well, probably not a good answer but I quipped “Damn, I hope so!” (A longer moment of silence) After what felt like an hour, he handed me back my license and said “I know you ain’t right but have a safe night, and don’t try to drink all that friggin beer by yourself!” I said thanks and “remember an 18 pack is only a good start!” I haven’t seen any other occasional sheriffs in that area again, but I realized that everyone should keep their eyes open! (Including myself). Now that the terrors of Halloween are over, we must prepare ourselves for the most horrifying holiday of all which is commonly called Thanksgiving. This particular celebration is always loaded with family and friends who really don’t want to do anything other than fight. I have written before about the horrors of this special day, and the haunts of Halloween pale in comparison to the zombies, ghosts and miscreants that will try to celebrate you making them dinner—and then destroy your life as you know it, simply because they love you. (Allegedly) Try to make the best of it, and until next month—“Speed Safely!”

R.I.P. Craven Moorehead Your Words Will Live On Forever

Grammy winning songwriter, solo artist, and Creed frontman, Scott Stapp’s 1st album in six years, THE SPACE BETWEEN THE SHADOWS is a driving, propulsive celebration of overcoming that debuted in the Top 5 and Top 10 on album charts in the U.S. and UK. “When you’re looking down a dark tunnel, everything is shadow. But taking one day at a time, you start to see the space between the shadows; the light and the color. The world takes shape in a whole new way.” After five years of sobriety, Stapp created an album that makes peace, offers solace, expresses frustrations, hope, wins, and losses in healthy, powerful ways. The album’s first single, “Purpose For Pain,” is appropriately about finding meaning in darkness, returned Stapp to the radio charts last summer. “Everyone goes through dark times and that pain is real. I think it helps to believe we’ll come to know the purpose for that pain, the lessons learned in enduring, and who that pain can help us become. Scott Stapp’s fighting spirit is well documented. He endured childhood trauma, fled home as a teen, supported himself, formed a band. Against the odds, Creed burst into popular consciousness in 1997 with MY OWN PRISON and would dominate rock radio throughout the early 2000’s. Followed by the Diamond-certified HUMAN CLAY (1999), WEATHERED (2002) and FULL CIRCLE (2009), Creed sold over 50 million albums, broke airplay records, sold out arenas, and won a Grammy for “With Arms Wide Open.” As a solo artist, Stapp released PROOF OF LIFE (2013) and THE GREAT DIVIDE (2005). Rolling Stone wrote, Stapp is “a singer with an enormous emotional range and a composer of startling originality.” Yet, despite his success, the unresolved traumas of his past, depression, and addiction began to overshadow his gifts. Stapp’s health deteriorated and his personal and professional relationships were in jeopardy. After an excruciating public struggle and decline, an intervention from family, MusiCares, and other artists led him to the resources needed to overcome, now five years and counting. But the journey was never easy. “There are failures before there’s success,” says Scott. “but every day you renew your commitments. In learning that I was ill, not ‘weak,’ I regained control of my life. I can’t overstate the benefit of being understood - the shift in how we speak about mental health now is a blessing. I’ve definitely gained a perspective that lets me help people a few steps behind me on this path.” As recovery reshaped his perspective, Scott and his wife of fourteen years, Jaclyn, moved with their three children to Nashville, TN. There, Scott found a haven for his family in a community that nurtures creativity and is renowned for turning sad stories into amazing music. It was there that THE SPACE BETWEEN THE SHADOWS was written and recorded with producers Marti Frederiksen and Scott Stevens. The experience was not only collaborative but charged with a challenge amongst musicians to bring their best. In terms of emotional honesty, the gloves were off. “We all got to do some story-telling and get to the heart of the man Scott has become,” said Frederiksen. “He’s come out strong and I’m proud of the work that went in to making it right.” “This was an amazing journey,” added Stevens. “Working alongside Scott and Marti brought out the best in us all. We hit on every emotion and came out better friends because it.” The album opens with the propulsive hardrock blast of “World I Used to Know,” Scott’s state-of-the-union about current affairs. The hard-hitting “Purpose for Pain,” and the brooding, cathartic croon of “Ready to Love,” show the masterful evolution of one rock’s most distinctive voices. In “Name,” there is unflinching confrontation, while “Heaven In Me” is blues-soaked. “Survivor” is a superhero’s anthem and “Face of the Sun” looks boldly into the light. In a poignant moment, Scott’s children are the “choir” on “Wake Up Call,” a song that international organization Child Fund uses to share their mission to aid underfunded families around the world. “Gone Too Soon,” was inspired in part by the losses of Chester Bennington and Chris Cornell. “Those deaths hit me hard,” says Stapp. “It was heartbreaking and, for me, a lot resurfaced. Depression belittle success, steals joy, and it doesn’t discriminate.” As someone who has received the help of others, Scott Stapp is a mentor to those who still struggle and, in gratitude, he ‘pays it forward’ through his own With Arms Wide Open Foundation, which helps military vets and their families with issues of drug addiction, PTSD-triggered mental health issues and suicide prevention. His efforts were applauded in 2017 when the Florida Association of Broadcasters gave him the Florida Service Award and in 2018, he was inducted into the Florida Music Hall of Fame.