The Ants Made Me Do It...How a Colony of Ants Converted me into a Motorcycle Commuter

Late September 2009 in Atlanta Georgia it began to rain, and didn't stop until multiple counties were declared federal disaster areas after local rivers and streams unable to contain the rain after years of drought conditions overflowed into homes, schools and shopping centers closing roads and causing many to be temporarily relocated from their homes to area shelters.

I watched the rainfall, and the rivers rise, and roads blocked, thankful our home, friends, and family remained safe and dry. What I didn’t watch was one of nature’s smallest creatures temporarily relocating themselves from their rain saturated dwellings to higher ground, which happened to be my car.

An entire colony of ants moved their Queen, offspring, food supplies and themselves into my trusty Volkswagen GTI in under two days thousands of these tiny creatures sought refuge from the rain and the floods in my vehicle. I had to give the tenacious little ones credit for their ingenuity but wished they’d of found somewhere else to weather the storm. Luckily, they didn’t care about me and waited to announce their presence until after I had safely returned from my day’s commute. While preparing to exit my vehicle and reaching onto the passenger seat to pick up my purse I notice a small black fleck on a paper I had brought home and upon closer inspection realized it was an ant, wait, ants, Oh My God, ANTS!!! Lines of them were pouring out of the vents, windows, on the seats, floor and crawling into my purse. I promptly exited my car in the most dignified manner throwing my bag out the door then jumping into the street leaving the door wide open while hopping up and down smacking my legs and shaking my head, I am sure I looked fabulous.

I had stopped at a friend’s house who resides less than a block from my home and promptly jogged home in business attire to inform my husband my car had turned into the Ant Mobile. My husband, kind and loving man he is and used to my random acts of insanity calmly stated, “You can get them with Windex; it’s in the laundry room.” Off I went on my bicycle armed with the Windex ready to battle the tiny automobile invaders. I sprayed the heck out of those things, thinking I had done a great job of ant eradication until I closed the door and out from between the windshield came streaming, more ants. Every piece of molding contained ants, the brakes had ants on them, and there were even ants in the engine. At this point, I realized I needed back up and returned home to enlist my husband in Ant War 2009. General Husband and I marched back to the car; this time armed with ‘pest spray’ bound and determined to reclaim the vehicle. It didn’t work, but we were able to spray them into submission long enough to drive the car back to our house. Our first thought was to set a bug fogger off in the car, so I called VW and asked if that was advisable, good thing I called as that was a terrible idea, they gave me a number to a pest control specialist who could come to our house and safely remove the ants. All that sounded like was an expensive service bill, so I kept reading. The next option was to place ant bait in the car as well as in the path of the remaining ants which they would eat, carry back to the nest, and feed to the Queen killing their matriarch and with no Queen, no colony, poof, ants are gone, but that would take 2-3 days.

My husband and I own two cars, but unfortunately, my husband’s truck had been overtaken by ants as well leaving me three options to get to/from work.

Bicycle 4 miles each way daily
Walk 4 miles each way daily
Motorcycle 4 miles each way daily

I had walked home from work, and it’s a nice walk but takes an hour and a half. I have cycled to and from work once, and it was simple, except I ride on Kevlar tires which aren’t the best idea on wet pavement and hilly terrain as you can press the brakes all you want but if you need to stop in a hurry it’s not going to happen. You become a good ‘drifter’ and hope you won’t slide into what you’re trying to avoid too fast. I also was not too thrilled about showering at the gym at the office every day.

That left the motorcycle which I had only taken on a few joyrides before the ant infestation and hadn’t considered as a viable option for a daily commute. I had made the initiative, signed up for and completed the Harley Davidson Riders Edge program for beginning riders which gave me the background knowledge and confidence to operate the motorcycle safely but I’m a bit of a wimp and had barely begun venturing outside of my neighborhood, and it’s parking lots. I looked at my husband and said, “looks like we’ll both be biking for a while.” I mean, why not? It’s only 4 miles; I don’t have to get on the highway, I’m licensed, insured and have reliable equipment, I can do this.

With no backup plan and the only other option not requiring showers at the office is the bus (which took longer than walking or biking for no good reason) I went ahead and woke up thirty minutes earlier than usual. Threw on my bike jeans and shoes, put on the shirt I was planning to wear to the office, packed my work pants and socks in my purse and was ready to go; until I heard socked feet shuffling about frantically behind me and my surprisingly all of a sudden overprotective worry wart kind and loving husband state, “I’m going with you.” What? Why? I was so conflicted on the one hand smitten that my husband wanted to ensure my safety on my inaugural two-wheeled journey to the office but bound and determined I was going to do it…on my own. No babysitter biker today, I’ve got to do it on my own, just once. He protested, then did that cute man pout husband’s do when they choose not to fight certain battles after I came up with a happy in-between; I would call him the second I made it to the office so he wouldn’t have to worry I had been flattened by a soccer mom on a cell phone who was too in a hurry to notice the motorcyclist she was running over while making a right turn onto a major street because she was late for her Botox appointment. (I am not soccer mom-bashing, I have friends who are soccer moms, and they would never run over a motorcyclist rushing for a Botox appointment.)

Helmet? Check. Gloves? Check. Key? Check. Okay, lets put those Riders Edge skills to the test. FINE-C = Fuel, Ignition, Neutral, Engine Cut-Off…Choke & Clutch. RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE…all systems go I’m going to do this. I’m going to do this, no looking back, no wimping out, if I don’t exit my driveway within the next 2 minutes I will be late, and I’m not good enough at this motorcycle stuff to try and hurry anywhere. I was so excited by the time I finished the pre-start checklist, started the bike and was ready to go of course I had to pee. I could stop, run back in the house and handle that or I could ‘man up’ and get my wimpy behind to my place of employment. With full bladder off I rumbled down the street and motorcycled my way to work. The second I was on my way I was filled with childlike joy as I absorbed my surroundings and enjoyed them on the way rather than the enclosed ‘drive-by’ I did in the trusty VW. The trip took less than 20 minutes and next thing you know I had made it to the parking garage at my office which was the only hard part of my commute, trying to get my parking pass in and out of my pocket to activate the gate. I had no idea the bike was so loud until I rumbled into the parking lot and the engine echoed in the concrete structure making my bike sound like a Sturgis rally. Not bad for a Honda I thought as I easily backed the bike into a parking space. I quickly removed my helmet and called my poor worried and loving husband who said good, now I can sleep. I asked him what he was talking about and he stated he had been so worried about me biking to work on my own he hadn’t slept since I told him the day before. I told him how much I loved his paranoid a$$ and to get some rest, I’d call him before I left the office to return home.

I received a few surprised looks in the elevator on the way to my floor, easily changed into my work pants and shoes feeling a little like Mr. Rogers when he’d walk in change out of his jacket and boots and into his sweater and house slippers. My day was uneventful, but I did notice I walked into the office in a completely different frame of mind. I had a sense of well being; some extra excitement and strange energy having enjoyed my commute to the office rather than the usual zombie drive am I there yet feeling. I took my time on the motorcycle ride home and had the same sense of well being I experienced in the morning. Something about the wind against my chest, the rumble, pop of the engine as I cruise down the road mixed with the smell of outdoors that stripped me of any stress I carried before my departure. My commute had gone from routine to therapy on two wheels all because a colony of ants decided to invade my car and I was forced to ride the motorcycle to work.

We checked the car that evening, and the ants were fewer but still there, the ant bait was working. We sprayed the dead ants off the outside of the vehicle and noticed a large quantity of them had passed their little ant bodies piled around the base of the car. I felt awful for having to wipe out their colony to reclaim my car and once again wished they could’ve found somewhere else to escape too. They had worked their little ant butts off to save their colony and Queen during natures fury, and here I am wiping them out. I’m sure because of this I’ll be reincarnated as an ant but thank the little guys for freeing me from my car mentality. I stopped for gas on the way home my 2nd day commuting, my husband had always brought the bike in gassed up, so I’d never tried it before. The card reader on the pump was malfunctioning so I walked into the station and requested $10 of gas on pump 1 having no idea how much gas or money it would take to fill the tank, I was on reserve which my husband said would get me about 30 miles if I ever kicked into it. I began pumping and at $2 the pump kicked off, I peeked into the tank and was surprised to see it half full, pulled the pump nozzle out a bit as I cautiously squeezed the trigger to fill the tank without overflowing and stopped at $4.60. WHAT?!?! FOUR DOLLARS AND SIXTY CENTS, THAT’S ALL? I walked back into the store and apologized as the attendant refunded the difference, I had no idea it took approximately five dollars to fill the tank. Upon arriving home, I asked my husband how far could I go on a tank of gas, including reserve, he thought for a second and stated, “two hundred miles.”. I must have had a crazy look on my face as he just stared at me, then asked, “what?”. You mean to tell me I can go two hundred miles for $5 in gas. It’s eight miles roundtrip to commute to work daily, that’s 40 miles a week, I can commute to work for FIVE DOLLARS A MONTH and its FUN?

We, and it looked ant free, I decided I’d let it sit one more day and vacuum all the ants out on Saturday. It is now Monday, and it’s my second week commuting to work on the motorcycle. I have never felt better, my mood has improved, and I do feel I have a ‘greener’ commute. I know it would be optimal to walk or cycle which I still may do on occasion but as long as the roads are safe to travel I plan on going anywhere, I can on this motorcycle. My husband had been doing it for years; I thought he was nuts. He’d come back from a ride or errand with a big smile on his face, and I never understood, but now I get it. It’s not for everybody but it works for us, and I would highly recommend anyone interested in an alternative method of transportation to give it a try.

I've noticed a few women staring and smiling at me preparing to ride the bike home as they drive by in their minivans, sedans and sports cars and I know that smile. I too smiled like that at the few women I’d see riding motorcycles and my head screams at those ladies, many of them older, YOU CAN DO IT. YOU CAN DO IT. You don’t have to ask permission, who cares what the neighbors may think, women can and do ride motorcycles to work and SO CAN YOU. I had always wanted to ride and for many years had a partner who stated, “only dikes ride bikes.” In hindsight I should’ve told I am sure they do but so can I. Everybody interested enough to do so can ride, a motorcycle isn’t for a particular ‘type’ of person if that were the case they’d only make one type of motorcycle. They come in different sizes, styles, colors, and you can find one to match your skill level, personality and preferred riding style.

I am by no means an expert but enjoying my journey and wanted to share a few tips I’ve found along the way with you. I highly recommend the Harley Davidson Riders Edge program as the DMV sanctions it, and successful completion of the written and motorcycle skills evaluation give you not only a waiver to pick up your license but also counts as a drivers education course bringing substantial savings to your insurance costs.

Motorcycle insurance is incredibly inexpensive compared to car insurance if you purchase a motorcycle under 1000cc or a cruiser.

I have yet to find motorcycle shoes/boots which can transition from the bike to the office, if anyone finds some, please let me know.

I am married now, so this doesn't matter to me, but if you are a single woman, these bikes seem to be ‘man magnets’ and are great conversation starters. As for us married folk, it’s a bit of an ego boost, will enhance your self-esteem which does wonders to perk up husbands who may have lost their enthusiasm or excitement over the years.

I will keep you all posted on my progress, like the day I finally gather up the nerve to ride the motorcycle on the interstate and if I happen to find some high boots. I’m also researching a better biking outfit and seriously considering a pair of red Dickie’s coveralls to throw on over my work clothes along with my jacket so I won’t have to change my pants after arriving at the office.

Stay happy, stay safe and stay in touch.

Never Stop Growing - A Lesson Remembered

My Father once asked me to think of a tree, and tell him what a tree and a human being had in common. I said, we're both alive, and he replied yes, what else? I struggled with an answer. He then said, we both grow. I, not quite understanding remained quiet and waited for him to explain. He said, a tree grows from a tiny seed into a strong tree, all the while enduring it's surroundings through good and bad, even if slowly continues to grow. He then asked, what happens when a tree stops growing? I replied, it dies. He said, exactly and got straight to the point. People can learn a valuable lesson from trees, we start as babies, and grow to adults, all the while, learning and just like the trees we must weather the storms and continue to grow and learn, some seasons blooming, others we may be dormant but we continue to grow. The day we stop learning, the day we stop growing, we die. He didn't need to say anymore. I never forgot that lesson.

When I feel like the world is trying it's hardest to take me down, I remember that I like the tree, must continue to grow, regardless, and to look for the lesson in whatever situation has caused my distress. Big things, little things, happy or sad, it doesn't matter, they are all valuable opportunities to learn. Sometimes I don't understand what I should be taking from a situation or experience, but at all times I'm thankful to be having the experience and the opportunity, even if it isn't obvious, having the opportunity to live and learn is a gift we should never take for granted

I am spreading my branches, growing strong and wise, safely under the guidance and branches within the forest of my family.

Thanks Dad.

I M Patient

I had planned to write about the virtue of patience in life and the joys that come with age and the ability to give your life to a higher power to guide you when your power fails. Why?

Because time and time again I attempted to live this life with the false belief that I was in control. Then snapped back to reality when the breath we all take for granted necessary for existence was gone, and every labored painful inhale a realization that I am only here because of Gods will. For those with alternate belief systems, we'll use higher power. Your higher power could be a tree or whatever or whomever you choose to place your faith.

Human nature is to believe we run things, many of us live in ignorant bliss, never stopping to give thanks or search for the good, even in the 'bad.' Every day I can wake up is a great day. I'm not going to sit here and lie stating I'm a perpetually happy individual. I have my moments, but when life seems to be getting the best of me, or things don't go the way I planned them I have the comfort of letting go and letting God. That doesn't mean kick my heels up and do nothing. If you jump off of a bridge and expect God to save you, you're going to have a surprise. God would never guide your steps off of that bridge, that was you just falling prey to your mortal tendencies.

Do the work, have faith, and whatever it is you desire, you will achieve unless what you wish is not the proper path. When you find yourself up against a wall and spinning your wheels and no matter how hard you try, feel like you're getting nowhere. That's the time you need to stop, breathe, say thank you and offer your steps, your path, your life to your higher power and believe. Things will change and usually not in the way YOU planned it to, but God will steer you down the correct path to whatever door he has opened. PERIOD.

How Soul Train Ruined my Concept of TV

As most of you know or have figured out my Father is a professional musician. For the longest time I thought ALL Dad's went to work for month's at a time and wore incredibly tight pants all the time. I thought everyone went to a studio and the whole world had rehearsal. With that said and done I grew up in what to me was normal, but the rest of the world would consider an alternative environment.

I know I must have been VERY young when this occurred but can't pinpoint what age. IF Dad had to go on the road or even out he'd ALWAYS say goodbye and give me a hug. One morning Mom walked in and woke me up saying, hurry up, get up, come to the bedroom, your Dad's on TV and I immediately threw a temper tantrum and cried when she looked at me crazy and asked why was I crying I said, "DADDY DIDN'T TELL ME GOODBYE!!!!"

What's funny about this story. Until this point my concept of technology was that people ON TV were somehow beamed into the TV, the concept of recording people DID NOT EXIST. So my child mind assumed that if Dad was ON TV, he had to have left, and heaven forbid he did so without saying goodbye.

Mom calmed me down and said your Dad's here, but hurry up and come to the bedroom and wandered out the door. I sat there stunned, completely unable to understand Dad could be home AND on TV, I thought he was some magicman or superhero because he could be TWO places at once. Then I thought, Mom's lying, he CAN'T be here AND on TV. So I raced into the bedroom about to pitch a fit and sure enough. He was there. We piled onto the bed (oh, now this is hilarious, lemme give you a quick rundown of the surroundings, orange and yellow SUPER LONG shag carpet, you'd lose whole Lego villages in that stuff and forget about getting any type of toy with wheels to work anywhere with carpet. One wall completely covered with mirror squares, you know, with the GOLD FLECKS, and the bedroom...THIS HUGE WOOD MONSTROSITY WATER BED, I know I was small enough at the time that I had to make quite a jump to get up there, and Dad's pride and Joy, the ZENITH COLOR TV, HUGE BOX, tiny screen, but it was COLOR with BUTTONS, not KNOBS!!!) and on came Soul Train. I HATED Soul Train, why? Because whenever it came on I was kicked outside to play and had to stop watching cartoons. But i survived the intros and sure enough there before my eyes was my superhero Dad on TV, but sitting right next to me. Wow.

The End

Have no idea why I remembered that, or chose to write it. Maybe I didn't want to forget. TV has never been the same since. I do know that after that for a LONG time I thought my Dad was the ONLY ONE who could be TWO places AT ONCE!!! Now that I think of it, he still is. Physically away but ALWAYS in my heart and head.


Soul Train Shirt

Mr. Kinda Right vs. Mr. Right on Time

I don't have to write this, but I have to write this as I feel it's important to share my little bit of learning with others. My 2 best friends and I had a 'bet' in high school. Who would get married first, who would have kids first, etc. I was deemed the one who would never marry and certainly have no children. 16 years later I surprised all and finally married. They used to call me the runaway bride. I was quick to bolt from relationships for a number of reasons. The number one factor in my decision to call it quits was always an overwhelming sense that I could do better and an unwillingness to 'settle'. I am in no way implying the relationships I had prior to meeting my husband were with 'bad' or faulty people. Only not the right person for me.

I had maintained short and long term relationships with the kinda a right but not quite right people and made the best out of them but in hindsight realize i had it all wrong. What I have come to realize is the reason I had spent so much time with kind of rights is because I was not in tune with myself and my spirit enough to even know what I needed. I was blessed to have a friend and mentor intervene and introduce me to my future husband. Who, truth be told had I not of been introduced to through a trusted friend I would of avoided like the plague. OMG! Not a creative....not the music industry... Not one of THEM! We would talk for hours and after every conversation I'd get off the phone thinking wow. He 'gets' me. But was still so self brainwashed refused to put 2 and 2 together even while this man was doing EVERYTHING I had always wished my partner would do. He cared when he had no reason to, was responsible, committed, had a strong faith, and most of all. Appreciated me for me, not who he or I thought I should or could be.

I'm rambling. Let me get to the point. I've got quite a few people out there 'looking' for Mr. Right and then all bent out of shape when they turn to Mr. wrong. My little advice is that

you don't have to LOOK for Mr. Right. Instead look to make yourself right and Mr. Right will find you.

I think we all may carry a warped sense of self which can cause chaos in relationships. Folks have noted how well my husband and I 'fit'. I believe it is because we appreciated each other as is. I love him as him and vice versa. Not, well if we stay together long enough maybe he'll change or, I can change him. AS IS! If you have to ask, "is he/she the one?" they are probably not. The difference between kinda right and just right is so obvious. You will laugh at yourself for entertaining all the not quites prior to. Love yourself and love will come to you. Also, don't be afraid to step outside your comfort zone.

The right one may be packaged differently than what you think is right. Don't be afraid to ask God for guidance. Have faith your God will not thrust you into chaos. If you are so busy looking, you may miss who and what God has put in place for you. Stop 'looking' for him. Look at you, love you and when your right one arrives, you will have so much more to share. Not some beat down tractor trailer full of baggage toting train wreck. A receptive, refreshed and refreshing woman. You don't want someone to complete you. You need to be whole first. You need someone to complement you an the 2 of you are that much stronger. TOGETHER. And those at my thoughts for the evening. I am thankful for the blessing I have received in my husband. I couldn't of dreamt a better life.

For those looking. Have faith. God will give you what you need when you are ready to receive it. In the meantime. Love the one you're with (you).