I keep memories locked in closets. Little by little they come out. Some have to do with fantasies. Some regard people. And some remind me that I really DID live this life.
Lotta’ years have passed. I’m not a new boy anymore. No longer a brash enfant terrible. But getting older has its benefits. You don’t need to defend the space you occupy. Or always have to be right. Or even care about it all. You can just appreciate the fact that you’re here.
Mister Masi and his father have been inspirational figures in my life ever since I read a story about their frame making business in Bicycling. May 1970 I think it was. Their model imprinted me. How they did things. Who they did things for. What they used. What they’d do and, more importantly, wouldn’t do.