Chopper Hostel

The summer is grinding to its inevitable conclusion. The hurricane that soaked the south raised a little havoc on my humble abode (read that shitty house) and the outside rain ended up just as inside as out.

Bein’ that the roof is nothing more than a hodge podge of bubble gum repairs and crossed fingers. The hope has always been that money would suddenly come rollin’ in but as with everybody, money is just fuckin’ scarce as hens’ teeth. Nobodies got it and that has directly affected my ability to paint for a living. Not to say that I have given up on my painting endeavors but for now it’s not realistically a reliable form of income.

I started to put legs under Chopper Hostel and Chopperhostel.com a few months back. Keeping at it. the website side of things have been slowly gathering steam. Writing is something I set aside when the magazine collapsed thinkin’ that my writings popularity was just a lucky ride on an unplanned wave of chopularity. A right place right time kind of thing I gave little to no thought into expanding further.

Back then I was some nut bag on an old bike takin’ everyone along for the ‘ride’. It was a crazy time, an unreliable bike and driven by me fighting with sobriety on two wheels. Personally, it sucked but apparently, it made for a great read.

Years later, here I am on a few acres in Gods country, a recently resurrected Shovelhead and a dream of a chopper oasis based in the middle of the best riding in the country. It’s a solid idea that will eventually come into its own with the proper attention. Until then I find myself once again behind the keyboard, spouting profanity and kickin’ up dust tryin’ to create a paycheck out of nothing.

I guess its entertainment and that makes me an entertainer of sorts. What kind of a world do we live in that people turn to some old pot head livin’ in a shack for insight into a world he is really not that good at navigating himself. It’s probably a matter of relatability as nobody has any idea what they’re doin’ from the cradle to the grave. I just have a way with the words that express it.

I’m damn near a boomer, I’m a Gen X’er but grew up on rotary phones and being home when the streetlights came on as a kid. I’m not old enough to have my whole world wiped away by the internet but old enough to remember a time before it. This is a story you will hearing until we all die off but it’s my story just the same.

I didn’t grow up connected to the rest of the world like is the norm today, I grew up with network television and canned spaghetti. We hated commies and feared wire surveillance from the government, it was a far cry from the openly socialist ideology from presidential candidates and choosing to getting bugged with Alexia and Siri in the guise of making your life easier. Not everybody went home with a trophy and the insane people didn’t have much of a voice. Life was simple but making it as a creative wasn’t actually a thing.

Things are different today, obviously. I guess I could have turned my back on the whole thing but I took off on my bike kinda losin’ track of the changing world and just used the internet enough to send my article to my editor and then move on.

The actual published magazines that graced the shelves of the local 7-11 are nothing but a fond memory and my writing career now fills four milkcrates that are buried in my closet. I’ve never read my own writing, maybe I will one day but for now I have no desire to relive all that craziness.

Now, I’m some old man living below the poverty level lookin’ for a second income doin’ the thing that folks have asked for and I actually enjoy. You can’t force people to buy anything in a downward economy, so I’m back writing to help keep the groceries in my neck and the dog in biscuits.

I really like writing again. I think it was a good idea to walk away from it, it was gettin’ old and quite frankly, I was burnt out with the whole thing. If I kept going all I would have done is ruin the legacy of what I have already published and firmly closed the lid on any writing in the future.

So here I am, beatin’ on the keys tryin’ to find my footing in this ‘new’ kinda world. I’m at it, tryin’ to build Chopper Hostel out of a few shitty acres of neglected land. The land, after a lot of work is becoming the chopper campground I always envisioned with all those years on the road.

I had a soft opening this summer from which I learned what still needs to be done over these next few cold months. With any luck and your help this is a realistic goal to shoot for. The groundwork is nearly done but I have plans that need t be addressed to make it something special, something to be proud of.

Writing has always been a lot of work as is anything creative with little to no pay off. Between this and painting I am hoping to make enough to get me through winter and address the work on the grounds still needed to complete the fever-dream vision of what Chopper Hostel will eventually be, an oasis for vintage and custom motorcycle riding, camping and a retreat from the craziness of a changing world.

So, here’s the awkward part, the part where I lose many of you, here’s the sales pitch, this website, more accurately this weekly article is how I’m hoping to survive for the foreseeable future.

I will continue to write a weekly full writing of the length of my articles in the magazine or longer. There will also be subsequent articles in addition to those weekly offerings. With your comments and interactions steering the content of the articles moving forward.

The simplest way to build the vision is with likes, comments and your subscription keeping you in up to date with new articles and updates as they are posted via email.

The biggest help would be financially. I’m not asking for grand financial gestures as in this economy money is hard to come by, but anything really helps. Below you will find a way to make a one time or reoccurring donation to Chopper Hostel and ultimately help me keep doing what I’m doing.

You can choose the amount listed below or you can punch in your own amount and whether its reoccurring or a one-time donation, The choice is yours. If you can’t afford a donation at this time, no worries you won’t be shut out and you can continue to read and comment as always. However, this whole thing is being driven by you and your generosity through financial support.

The raising of capital to survive and move forward will be continuous but won’t be my only focus in the future. All I ask is for you to do what you can to help support any efforts moving forward and know that your help no matter the amount is greatly appreciated.

I look forward to the opening of Chopper Hostel and continued activity here at chopperhostel.com, Through your interest and support I see Chopper Hostel moving and expanding into the future.

Thanks for your time and continued support “GTP”, lone proprietor and Grand Poo-ba of Chopper Hostel and chopperhostel.com