It appears I have a new oil leak. Man, I hate leaks. Especially when they come from a place that isn't readily visible.
This weekend, when Noodles and I are working on the bike, I guess I'm going to have to try and find that sucker as well. I think I'm in for a long day of wrenching...
Well, it beats cleaning.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Money, it's a gas.
Today I officially accepted my new gig as incredibly-powerful-behind-the-scenes-computer-nerd. As I mentioned, the place I'll be working is minimally evil, and should keep me amused until I can get my own business running.
Anyway, my computer nerd dues have finally been paid, and I'm going to be making a reasonable living. I'm not going to be rich, by any means, but I will be making enough to finally afford a new bike (but not a Ducati).
The possibility of actually getting a new bike set me off, again, on the bike-shopping path. There are a lot of options for a guy like me, because I pretty much like every single bike I see.
But I believe I have nearly come to a decision. It's going to be a Triumph Thruxton 900, or a Triumph Bonneville T100.
That brings me to the next problem: how am I going to pay for the thing? Triumph's financing plan, to be kind, sucks shit through a purple curly straw. I'm not paying that kind of interest.
So what the heck do I do? One option is the old "delayed gratification" method of saving up and paying for it in cash. That'd be fun, because I've always wanted to go into a dealership with a briefcase full of cash and buy a bike.
Of course, that'd probably get me on a couple more government lists. The last thing I need is a fifth black helicopter following me around.
Or, I guess I could try and find a better loan. It's less dramatic, but might have faster results.
A tricky decision, to be sure.
The kind of decision that should be made over pizza...
Anyway, my computer nerd dues have finally been paid, and I'm going to be making a reasonable living. I'm not going to be rich, by any means, but I will be making enough to finally afford a new bike (but not a Ducati).
The possibility of actually getting a new bike set me off, again, on the bike-shopping path. There are a lot of options for a guy like me, because I pretty much like every single bike I see.
But I believe I have nearly come to a decision. It's going to be a Triumph Thruxton 900, or a Triumph Bonneville T100.
That brings me to the next problem: how am I going to pay for the thing? Triumph's financing plan, to be kind, sucks shit through a purple curly straw. I'm not paying that kind of interest.
So what the heck do I do? One option is the old "delayed gratification" method of saving up and paying for it in cash. That'd be fun, because I've always wanted to go into a dealership with a briefcase full of cash and buy a bike.
Of course, that'd probably get me on a couple more government lists. The last thing I need is a fifth black helicopter following me around.
Or, I guess I could try and find a better loan. It's less dramatic, but might have faster results.
A tricky decision, to be sure.
The kind of decision that should be made over pizza...
Monday, May 29, 2006
Emissions and You!
Here in lovely Phoenix, motorcyclists have to get their emissions tested. I understand it has something to do with getting the number of 2 stroke ATVs off the streets. Whatever it is, it's a pain in my ass.
In fact, it's more of a pain in my ass than usual, because the VX didn't pass this time. Which means I get to order all the bits that stores don't carry since I'm the only guy in Phoenix on a VX.
Anyway, I managed to get my oil filter and sparkplugs, but I'm going to have to either order air filters from the dealer, or hack in a UNI filter. I was glad to see that the shop I was at sells tappet adjustment tools. I was worried I'd have to order those too.
Next weekend, my brother Noodles is coming down to visit. That's perfect, because he'll get here just in time to help me work on my bike.
Is there any better kind of bonding than swearing at a machine together?
In fact, it's more of a pain in my ass than usual, because the VX didn't pass this time. Which means I get to order all the bits that stores don't carry since I'm the only guy in Phoenix on a VX.
Anyway, I managed to get my oil filter and sparkplugs, but I'm going to have to either order air filters from the dealer, or hack in a UNI filter. I was glad to see that the shop I was at sells tappet adjustment tools. I was worried I'd have to order those too.
Next weekend, my brother Noodles is coming down to visit. That's perfect, because he'll get here just in time to help me work on my bike.
Is there any better kind of bonding than swearing at a machine together?
Friday, May 26, 2006
When Risk Pays Off.
No waxing philosophical today, just the facts. Apparently the employer who's offer I turned down really, really wanted me to work for them, because they offered me a whole lot more money if I'd go work for them.
So, I took a new risk and accepted the gig. My new boss is a moto-maniac (Honda 919), so I expect we'll get along well.
So, I took a new risk and accepted the gig. My new boss is a moto-maniac (Honda 919), so I expect we'll get along well.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Tough Decisions and Risk.
Earlier this week, I got a job offer from an employer that I was pretty interested in working for. The problem was that the compensation, benefits, work, company size (read: layers of red tape), possibilities for advancement, etc. were identical to the job I already have. The big pluses were that it'd be a permanent job (I'm contract to hire right now), it's not an evil corporation (the level of corporate evil at my current employer isn't too high either) and that my potential new boss is also crazy about motorcycles.
I spent Tuesday night and all day Wednesday trying to decide what to do. Neither job really came out a clear winner, because the pros and cons of each job negated the pros and cons of the other job.
Finally, last night I decided to just keep the job I have. It was the riskier choice (there's never a guarantee about the "to hire" part), but I'm not afraid of a little risk. Especially when my commute is much shorter (if my commute to the other job would have taken me along twisty backroads, instead of freeways and stoplights, my choice might have been different).
Risk makes everything a bit more interesting. Life gets pretty boring when you know exactly what is going to happen every day. Making a choice when you can't be 100% sure of the outcome is a thrill.
There is always a possibility that the things you want to happen, won't. When you're willing to acknowledge that and take the risk anyhow, suddenly you're in control of your destiny. You haven't given in to the illusion of safety and comfort. Now you're actually living.
Taking risks isn't limited to employment choices. Every day a choice with an element of risk presents itself. It could be deciding to try a new dish at a restaurant, or choosing to get on your motorcycle and ride to work from now on (incidentally, choosing to ride your bike is the right choice 99.97% of the time.).
Accepting risk and being at peace with it is the only certain path to security and freedom. When you accept responsibility for your life, actions, successes and failures, then you can truly be free. When you can live with the fact that things will not always be perfect, and that's ok, you'll have true security.
Personally, I'll take freedom over the illusion of security every time. How about you?
I spent Tuesday night and all day Wednesday trying to decide what to do. Neither job really came out a clear winner, because the pros and cons of each job negated the pros and cons of the other job.
Finally, last night I decided to just keep the job I have. It was the riskier choice (there's never a guarantee about the "to hire" part), but I'm not afraid of a little risk. Especially when my commute is much shorter (if my commute to the other job would have taken me along twisty backroads, instead of freeways and stoplights, my choice might have been different).
Risk makes everything a bit more interesting. Life gets pretty boring when you know exactly what is going to happen every day. Making a choice when you can't be 100% sure of the outcome is a thrill.
There is always a possibility that the things you want to happen, won't. When you're willing to acknowledge that and take the risk anyhow, suddenly you're in control of your destiny. You haven't given in to the illusion of safety and comfort. Now you're actually living.
Taking risks isn't limited to employment choices. Every day a choice with an element of risk presents itself. It could be deciding to try a new dish at a restaurant, or choosing to get on your motorcycle and ride to work from now on (incidentally, choosing to ride your bike is the right choice 99.97% of the time.).
Accepting risk and being at peace with it is the only certain path to security and freedom. When you accept responsibility for your life, actions, successes and failures, then you can truly be free. When you can live with the fact that things will not always be perfect, and that's ok, you'll have true security.
Personally, I'll take freedom over the illusion of security every time. How about you?
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
100 Things 31 - 35.
Here are things 1-5, 6 - 10, 11-15, 16 - 20, 21 - 25, and 26 - 30.
31. I have somehow amassed a tremendous collection of t-shirts. In fact, I have so many that I forget about some of them. What's funny is that somehow, without doing so deliberately, I always end up wearing one of two Beatles shirts that I own on Friday.
32. I think puppets are freaking hilarious. Here in Phoenix there is a puppet theater that has grown-up shows one a month. You don't know hilarity until you've seen Shakespeare as a 5 minute sketch interpreted by a monkey. Lady Luck and I tried to volunteer there, and they were rude enough to us when we went to meet them that we just haven't gone back.
I miss the puppets. If you're in Phoenix, and aren't mad at them, I highly recommend you go.
33. For some reason, I love public speaking. I'm good at it too. This boggles people who know me, because I'm soft-spoken to the point of being inaudible in other situations. Should I ever become an enormously famous rockstar, I expect I'll follow in the footsteps of super-recluses Pink Floyd.
34. I have two cats: Frank and Nugent (Nooge). Nooge was so named because I loved the idea of having a camoflauge cat-tent (and because as a kitten he would claw the almighty hell out of anything that moved. I've got scars to prove it.). Frank (a girl cat) reminds me of Frank Zappa.
35. Best movie ever: the original "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" (with Gene Wilder).
31. I have somehow amassed a tremendous collection of t-shirts. In fact, I have so many that I forget about some of them. What's funny is that somehow, without doing so deliberately, I always end up wearing one of two Beatles shirts that I own on Friday.
32. I think puppets are freaking hilarious. Here in Phoenix there is a puppet theater that has grown-up shows one a month. You don't know hilarity until you've seen Shakespeare as a 5 minute sketch interpreted by a monkey. Lady Luck and I tried to volunteer there, and they were rude enough to us when we went to meet them that we just haven't gone back.
I miss the puppets. If you're in Phoenix, and aren't mad at them, I highly recommend you go.
33. For some reason, I love public speaking. I'm good at it too. This boggles people who know me, because I'm soft-spoken to the point of being inaudible in other situations. Should I ever become an enormously famous rockstar, I expect I'll follow in the footsteps of super-recluses Pink Floyd.
34. I have two cats: Frank and Nugent (Nooge). Nooge was so named because I loved the idea of having a camoflauge cat-tent (and because as a kitten he would claw the almighty hell out of anything that moved. I've got scars to prove it.). Frank (a girl cat) reminds me of Frank Zappa.
35. Best movie ever: the original "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" (with Gene Wilder).
Monday, May 22, 2006
As Concerns Fear
A frequent question I get from former (and leisure) riders here in Phoenix is "Aren't you afraid of the traffic?"
Well.... no. And yes.
I had a drag-racing video (on VHS. Remember VHS?) when I was a kid. In that video, I believe it was John "Brute" Force who said something along the lines of "When you stop being scared, it's probably time to quit."
Now, I don't think he meant that he, and other racers, are petrified during the race. If they were, I doubt they'd win many races, and instead would most likely meet a high-velocity demise early in their career (Of course, I've never been in a funny car. Maybe they do cry for their mommies for those 5.426 seconds between hitting the go button and hitting the stop button.)
No, I think what he was saying is that a certain degree of fear means that you're going to be paying attention, and will be more likely to stay alive. Certainly in rush hour traffic in Phoenix (more asshats per capita than any city in the world), a certain level of fear is going to help you keep from getting squashed.
On the other hand, there's a big difference between "fear" and "terror" or "panic." Riding in a panic is bad, ok? First off, when you're panicked you aren't thinking clearly, and your actions are not rational. Where fear will keep you focussed on planning and executing escape strategies, terror will let you fixate on that tree/large truck/flaming garbage can (face it, if you were under 18, on a bike, somewhere that burning barrels are allowed, you probably almost crashed into one at some point.) and ride straight into it.
Riding straight into things is bad. Evading and dodging things is good.
So, am I scared when I ride? No. I have a healthy dose of respect for the giant rolling paperweights around me, and I take action when needed to avoid getting smooshed. Since I go out of my way to plan for contigencies (Everyone remembers Scan-Identify-Plan-Decide-Execute, right?), when evasive maneuvers are required I calmly take action to prevent my untimely demise.
Incidentally, yelling "oh shit!" is always a part of my plan of action. I just wanted to make sure we're clear on that. I'm still calm.
Well.... no. And yes.
I had a drag-racing video (on VHS. Remember VHS?) when I was a kid. In that video, I believe it was John "Brute" Force who said something along the lines of "When you stop being scared, it's probably time to quit."
Now, I don't think he meant that he, and other racers, are petrified during the race. If they were, I doubt they'd win many races, and instead would most likely meet a high-velocity demise early in their career (Of course, I've never been in a funny car. Maybe they do cry for their mommies for those 5.426 seconds between hitting the go button and hitting the stop button.)
No, I think what he was saying is that a certain degree of fear means that you're going to be paying attention, and will be more likely to stay alive. Certainly in rush hour traffic in Phoenix (more asshats per capita than any city in the world), a certain level of fear is going to help you keep from getting squashed.
On the other hand, there's a big difference between "fear" and "terror" or "panic." Riding in a panic is bad, ok? First off, when you're panicked you aren't thinking clearly, and your actions are not rational. Where fear will keep you focussed on planning and executing escape strategies, terror will let you fixate on that tree/large truck/flaming garbage can (face it, if you were under 18, on a bike, somewhere that burning barrels are allowed, you probably almost crashed into one at some point.) and ride straight into it.
Riding straight into things is bad. Evading and dodging things is good.
So, am I scared when I ride? No. I have a healthy dose of respect for the giant rolling paperweights around me, and I take action when needed to avoid getting smooshed. Since I go out of my way to plan for contigencies (Everyone remembers Scan-Identify-Plan-Decide-Execute, right?), when evasive maneuvers are required I calmly take action to prevent my untimely demise.
Incidentally, yelling "oh shit!" is always a part of my plan of action. I just wanted to make sure we're clear on that. I'm still calm.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Expand Your Word Power
Coop, in his tool-blogging glee, introduced me to a word and concept that I hadn't heard before, though I wish I had. Wabi Sabi is the "beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete."
Fuck!
As the kind of guy who will walk right past a row of 150 pristine billet-barges to check out the gnarled, flat-black moped in the back of the lot, Wabi Sabi is an aesthetic that I can whole-heartedly stand behind.
One of my favorite rides is zipping through the alleys behind the various stores and businesses in Mesa. I love to see the worn reality behind the show, seeing the things that have been discarded or deemed unfit for public viewing.
More than once, Lady Luck has caught me photographing a rusting hulk that used to be heavy equipment when directly behind me is a Ansel-Adams-postcard-worthy landscape. I find modern ruins fascinating.
Here's the thing: objects and places that are worn, broken and imperfect have genuine character. Perfection is boring. If you don't believe me, drive through (ok, past) a gated/planned community sometime. I don't know, I guess some people like knowing that their neighbors have to keep their lawns mowed to a perfect 3.5 inches. Some people apparently hate dandelions. Some people can't bear the thought of a blemish in their plastic-wrapped, perfect little world.
But those things aren't real. It's just a show, a sterile wrapper hiding the true chaos of life and the spectre of death. Personally, I'd rather have a neighbor with a messy lawn and a genuine passion for life, instead of a genuine concern about the aluminum foil in my west-facing windows during the summer. I'll take the funky old bike that's caked with the grime of 20 years of daily riding over a perfectly polished garage-ornament. I'll go on a picnic in the crumbled ruins of an abandoned marble quarry instead of dinner at a corporate chain restaurant where the food is the same regardless of the part of the world I'm in.
Obviously, the philosophy is that life is imperfect, impermanent and incomplete. Trying to force life to be perfect, permanent and complete is impossible, and leads to suffering. Life is going to kill you eventually, try not to waste it worrying about correcting imperfection when there is so much beauty in imperfection. Instead, revel in the joy of seeing things not normally seen, appreciate a glorious moment instead of worrying about when it will end, and let things work out instead of trying to force them.
And for God's sake, stop washing your bike, get out there and ride it like you stole it.
Fuck!
As the kind of guy who will walk right past a row of 150 pristine billet-barges to check out the gnarled, flat-black moped in the back of the lot, Wabi Sabi is an aesthetic that I can whole-heartedly stand behind.
One of my favorite rides is zipping through the alleys behind the various stores and businesses in Mesa. I love to see the worn reality behind the show, seeing the things that have been discarded or deemed unfit for public viewing.
More than once, Lady Luck has caught me photographing a rusting hulk that used to be heavy equipment when directly behind me is a Ansel-Adams-postcard-worthy landscape. I find modern ruins fascinating.
Here's the thing: objects and places that are worn, broken and imperfect have genuine character. Perfection is boring. If you don't believe me, drive through (ok, past) a gated/planned community sometime. I don't know, I guess some people like knowing that their neighbors have to keep their lawns mowed to a perfect 3.5 inches. Some people apparently hate dandelions. Some people can't bear the thought of a blemish in their plastic-wrapped, perfect little world.
But those things aren't real. It's just a show, a sterile wrapper hiding the true chaos of life and the spectre of death. Personally, I'd rather have a neighbor with a messy lawn and a genuine passion for life, instead of a genuine concern about the aluminum foil in my west-facing windows during the summer. I'll take the funky old bike that's caked with the grime of 20 years of daily riding over a perfectly polished garage-ornament. I'll go on a picnic in the crumbled ruins of an abandoned marble quarry instead of dinner at a corporate chain restaurant where the food is the same regardless of the part of the world I'm in.
Obviously, the philosophy is that life is imperfect, impermanent and incomplete. Trying to force life to be perfect, permanent and complete is impossible, and leads to suffering. Life is going to kill you eventually, try not to waste it worrying about correcting imperfection when there is so much beauty in imperfection. Instead, revel in the joy of seeing things not normally seen, appreciate a glorious moment instead of worrying about when it will end, and let things work out instead of trying to force them.
And for God's sake, stop washing your bike, get out there and ride it like you stole it.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Summer Weather!
Today I looked out the window at my office and noticed it was kind of gloomy. I love "gloomy" here in Arizona, because it's just so rare. Naturally, I hopped on the web to look at the weather report and saw that there was a Severe Thunderstorm Warning for my area.
I got pretty excited, because I've never ridden in hail before.
Anyway, there was a nice dust storm blowing on my way home, and lots of lightning. I didn't get rained or hailed on, but I did get blown around quite a bit. I got home and discovered one of the big trees near my house had blown down. Yikes!
Evidentally the dust storm was really intense about 15 minutes before I left work. I hear the visibility got really bad for a bit. I'm glad I missed that.
Anyway, the word on the street is that it could rain tomorrow, so I guess I'm going to have to get up early to check the weather and see if I'll need to bring a change of clothes. I really gotta get some rain gear...
I got pretty excited, because I've never ridden in hail before.
Anyway, there was a nice dust storm blowing on my way home, and lots of lightning. I didn't get rained or hailed on, but I did get blown around quite a bit. I got home and discovered one of the big trees near my house had blown down. Yikes!
Evidentally the dust storm was really intense about 15 minutes before I left work. I hear the visibility got really bad for a bit. I'm glad I missed that.
Anyway, the word on the street is that it could rain tomorrow, so I guess I'm going to have to get up early to check the weather and see if I'll need to bring a change of clothes. I really gotta get some rain gear...
Monday, May 15, 2006
Gainfully Employed Once Again
I started my new job today. It seems like it'll be ok; I didn't get any strong "asshole" vibes off of anyone. Most importantly, there wasn't an odd, funky odor in the office.
Office-stank was a problem at my last two jobs, so I'm pretty stoked.
My tailbone seems to be recovering. The ride to and from work today was merely "painful" as opposed to "hellish." Again, I'm pretty stoked. Personally, when I'm tearing ass on my bike, I don't care to feel like my ass is tearing.
Otherwise, I don't have much news. I guess since I have an income again, I'll have to do a pizza review soon.
Office-stank was a problem at my last two jobs, so I'm pretty stoked.
My tailbone seems to be recovering. The ride to and from work today was merely "painful" as opposed to "hellish." Again, I'm pretty stoked. Personally, when I'm tearing ass on my bike, I don't care to feel like my ass is tearing.
Otherwise, I don't have much news. I guess since I have an income again, I'll have to do a pizza review soon.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
So long and happy trails!
We got the rat-buick hauled away today. I'm kind of sad to see it go. It was a great car, while it lasted. I bought it with 120,000 miles on it in 2000, and it only needed 1 repair per year we owned it. The beast made it to 182,940 miles.
Loaded up
Bye-Bye Buick!
So now we've got 1 car and 1 bike. Now to shoot for 2 bikes, no cars.
Loaded up
Bye-Bye Buick!
So now we've got 1 car and 1 bike. Now to shoot for 2 bikes, no cars.
Friday, May 12, 2006
100 Things 26 - 30
Here are things 1-5, 6 - 10, 11-15, 16 - 20, and 21 - 25.
26. I am smart enough to qualify for membership in Mensa, but I don't want to hang out with all those eggheads. During my brief stint in the honors program in college, I discovered that "smart" people bug the hell out of me.
27. After hearing about it in a Clutch song, I couldn't wait to have a fine Darjeeling tea. I discovered that I don't like Darjeeling, because I pretty much don't like tea. And I knew that before I ever tried the Darjeeling. This is a recurring experience of mine. About once a year I get a hankering for olives/whoppers/tuna, and will go out of my way to get some. Then I have one bite and remember that I freaking HATE olives/whoppers/tuna. Though, I am slowly starting to like tuna.
28. When stressed, my sense of humor slowly goes away until obvious jokes fly right over my head, and I don't notice until the person telling the joke is looking at me like I'm retarded. Then I say "That was a joke, wasn't it?"
29. I tend to make sound effects to accompany my actions, except while riding. Riding doesn't need them. Cars do.
30. I miss suction cup dart guns that had darts that actually stuck to things. What's the deal with the new dart guns that don't actually STICK? How can you tell if your shot was accurate or not if the dart isn't stuck to the tv right where Elmo/Bill O'Reilly/some jerk from a reality show just was?
26. I am smart enough to qualify for membership in Mensa, but I don't want to hang out with all those eggheads. During my brief stint in the honors program in college, I discovered that "smart" people bug the hell out of me.
27. After hearing about it in a Clutch song, I couldn't wait to have a fine Darjeeling tea. I discovered that I don't like Darjeeling, because I pretty much don't like tea. And I knew that before I ever tried the Darjeeling. This is a recurring experience of mine. About once a year I get a hankering for olives/whoppers/tuna, and will go out of my way to get some. Then I have one bite and remember that I freaking HATE olives/whoppers/tuna. Though, I am slowly starting to like tuna.
28. When stressed, my sense of humor slowly goes away until obvious jokes fly right over my head, and I don't notice until the person telling the joke is looking at me like I'm retarded. Then I say "That was a joke, wasn't it?"
29. I tend to make sound effects to accompany my actions, except while riding. Riding doesn't need them. Cars do.
30. I miss suction cup dart guns that had darts that actually stuck to things. What's the deal with the new dart guns that don't actually STICK? How can you tell if your shot was accurate or not if the dart isn't stuck to the tv right where Elmo/Bill O'Reilly/some jerk from a reality show just was?
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Pain in my ass
This morning, being the totally with-it and sharp guy that I am, I slipped at the top of the stairs and slid down to the landing. Fortunately for me, that's only about 7 stairs, and the stairs are pretty cushy.
I've got a nice rugburn on one wrist and, of course, a pain in my ass. Laugh if you will, but I just went out to run some errands on my bike, and the humor ended within a block.
If you've never had the experience of riding with a severely sore ass, you probably don't know just how much abuse your butt takes while riding. After riding less than 5 miles this morning, I've come to the conclusion that one's butt carries 173% of your weight while riding, and that's not even counting the extra force when you accelerate. Sure, you can try and bear your weight on your legs, but you won't get far.
So, I've taken some excedrin, and now I'm sitting here wondering just how hellacious my ride to an interview this afternoon will be.
I've got a nice rugburn on one wrist and, of course, a pain in my ass. Laugh if you will, but I just went out to run some errands on my bike, and the humor ended within a block.
If you've never had the experience of riding with a severely sore ass, you probably don't know just how much abuse your butt takes while riding. After riding less than 5 miles this morning, I've come to the conclusion that one's butt carries 173% of your weight while riding, and that's not even counting the extra force when you accelerate. Sure, you can try and bear your weight on your legs, but you won't get far.
So, I've taken some excedrin, and now I'm sitting here wondering just how hellacious my ride to an interview this afternoon will be.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Wow, Loot!
I got a job offer, and I start Monday (not at the place I interviewed today).
Buy me a beer!
Buy me a beer!
What's wrong with people?
Ladies and gentlemen, I have had a rough morning. On my way to my interview for the day, I got myself good and thoroughly off-course due to personal error and bad directions. Naturally, I realized I was not in the right place and set about finding someone who looked knowledgeable enough to tell me, roughly, how to get out of the ass-end of the world and back to where I needed to be.
Given the relative compactness and nimble handling of the VX800, I started by rolling up to people at the stoplight I was at. One lady was on her cell-phone, so I knew right away she wasn't bright enough to bother with.
I rolled up to the next car and here's where things got entertaining. I was right next to this woman in her car. I leaned down and tried to make eye contact, but she wouldn't look.
So I started waving, like "HI! Motorcyclist over here, trying to get your attention." Seriously, she started to look kind of to the left, but somehow NEVER SAW ME. I'd like to mention again that I was close enough that, apart from the car door, I could have tapped her on the shoulder.
Ok, so maybe she's afraid of being robbed. After all, I was in Scottsdale, and everyone knows that if you want to rob a rich person in their car at a stoplight, the best way to do it is to dress like you're going to a job interview, go to Scottsdale (that's where the pretend-rich people live), pull up next to one of them them on your motorcycle and start waving at them. As soon as they notice you, you whip out your Glock and demand tribute. Yep, definitely a good plan for crime, right there.
Anyway, I gave up on her and rolled around to ANOTHER car. A large, tough looking guy was in that car. He wouldn't look at me either. So I started waving, and he just waved back.
I was like "ok, well, that's the best response so far" so I mimed rolling down the window. No good. I wasn't going to bother yelling, since I was wearing my helmet and his window was up. The light turned green and off we went.
I gave up on the idea of "kindness of strangers," and went into the FIRST gas station. A firefighter (is it just me, or are firefighters universally awesome?) told me how to get to the part of town I needed to be in. I thanked him and ran back to my bike.
I tore out of the gas station and on to the freeway (luckily, it was only a block away) and got, roughly, to where I needed to be. Then I got lost again, because my directions were just that bad.
I pulled into another gas station, and tried to get SOMEONE to tell me how to get to my desired destination. I talked to four or five people, including the attendants, and none of them could give me directions, and only one of them was remotely polite (I think she dug my bitchin' motorcycle). I called the office and let them know why I was late and that I'd be there as soon as I could.
So, I decide to go for the "arrive by magic" approach and just start riding. 2 blocks from the gas station I pulled into, I found the "Greenway-Hayden Loop," and shortly after that, the office where my interview was. Yay magic.
Half an hour late (an hour and 15 minutes into my ride), I get into the darn office and have my interview. It went poorly, probably because I was so steamed by the time I found the stupid place (not to mention I was really late).
Note to self, never trust Expedia when an address is on a "loop."
Given the relative compactness and nimble handling of the VX800, I started by rolling up to people at the stoplight I was at. One lady was on her cell-phone, so I knew right away she wasn't bright enough to bother with.
I rolled up to the next car and here's where things got entertaining. I was right next to this woman in her car. I leaned down and tried to make eye contact, but she wouldn't look.
So I started waving, like "HI! Motorcyclist over here, trying to get your attention." Seriously, she started to look kind of to the left, but somehow NEVER SAW ME. I'd like to mention again that I was close enough that, apart from the car door, I could have tapped her on the shoulder.
Ok, so maybe she's afraid of being robbed. After all, I was in Scottsdale, and everyone knows that if you want to rob a rich person in their car at a stoplight, the best way to do it is to dress like you're going to a job interview, go to Scottsdale (that's where the pretend-rich people live), pull up next to one of them them on your motorcycle and start waving at them. As soon as they notice you, you whip out your Glock and demand tribute. Yep, definitely a good plan for crime, right there.
Anyway, I gave up on her and rolled around to ANOTHER car. A large, tough looking guy was in that car. He wouldn't look at me either. So I started waving, and he just waved back.
I was like "ok, well, that's the best response so far" so I mimed rolling down the window. No good. I wasn't going to bother yelling, since I was wearing my helmet and his window was up. The light turned green and off we went.
I gave up on the idea of "kindness of strangers," and went into the FIRST gas station. A firefighter (is it just me, or are firefighters universally awesome?) told me how to get to the part of town I needed to be in. I thanked him and ran back to my bike.
I tore out of the gas station and on to the freeway (luckily, it was only a block away) and got, roughly, to where I needed to be. Then I got lost again, because my directions were just that bad.
I pulled into another gas station, and tried to get SOMEONE to tell me how to get to my desired destination. I talked to four or five people, including the attendants, and none of them could give me directions, and only one of them was remotely polite (I think she dug my bitchin' motorcycle). I called the office and let them know why I was late and that I'd be there as soon as I could.
So, I decide to go for the "arrive by magic" approach and just start riding. 2 blocks from the gas station I pulled into, I found the "Greenway-Hayden Loop," and shortly after that, the office where my interview was. Yay magic.
Half an hour late (an hour and 15 minutes into my ride), I get into the darn office and have my interview. It went poorly, probably because I was so steamed by the time I found the stupid place (not to mention I was really late).
Note to self, never trust Expedia when an address is on a "loop."
A quick something to get started today
For those of you who can't/won't ride in the winter (you poor bastards), here's something to keep you occupied after this riding season is over: Paper Motorcycle Models.
I think the SR400 model looks pretty cool, but I think I'm just going to wait for someone else to make one and give it to me.
I was mildly disappointed when a brief google search failed to provide a VX800 paper model.
I think the SR400 model looks pretty cool, but I think I'm just going to wait for someone else to make one and give it to me.
I was mildly disappointed when a brief google search failed to provide a VX800 paper model.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Where did YOU come from?
Yesterday after I got home from my second interview I pulled into the garage and parked the VX, as usual.
I was in the middle of taking off my helmet and I noticed something odd on the ground right next to my bike. I took it to be a St. Christopher medallion (St. Christopher being the patron saint of travel) at first. I stooped down to pick it up, and discovered it to be a St. Peregrine medallion.
Since I am not a Catholic, I had no idea who St. Peregrine was. Five seconds on google informed me that St. Peregrine is the patron saint of cancer sufferers.
Hmm.
Now, as I've said, I'm not Catholic. To the best of my knowledge I do not have cancer. I didn't know who St. Peregrine was. Most importantly, I had no idea how this medallion wound up in my garage, next to my bike.
My first question, of course, is "Who the heck was in my garage?"
My next question is, "Does the VX have something it needs to tell me?"
My last question is, "Seriously, how did this thing end up in my garage?"
I am perplexed, and I have a minor case of the jibblies. I'm beginning to wonder if providence is telling me to strap that medallion on to the VX, or if something else is telling me to get a lock on my garage door.
Anyone else have any moto-spooky-stories to share?
I was in the middle of taking off my helmet and I noticed something odd on the ground right next to my bike. I took it to be a St. Christopher medallion (St. Christopher being the patron saint of travel) at first. I stooped down to pick it up, and discovered it to be a St. Peregrine medallion.
Since I am not a Catholic, I had no idea who St. Peregrine was. Five seconds on google informed me that St. Peregrine is the patron saint of cancer sufferers.
Hmm.
Now, as I've said, I'm not Catholic. To the best of my knowledge I do not have cancer. I didn't know who St. Peregrine was. Most importantly, I had no idea how this medallion wound up in my garage, next to my bike.
My first question, of course, is "Who the heck was in my garage?"
My next question is, "Does the VX have something it needs to tell me?"
My last question is, "Seriously, how did this thing end up in my garage?"
I am perplexed, and I have a minor case of the jibblies. I'm beginning to wonder if providence is telling me to strap that medallion on to the VX, or if something else is telling me to get a lock on my garage door.
Anyone else have any moto-spooky-stories to share?
Monday, May 08, 2006
3 piece suit, 2 wheels.
Another two-interview-day for me today. One at a bank, the other at a government office. Since banks and government offices are rarely described to me as "laid-back and casual," I'm going to be wearing my suit to both of them.
I can't wait to see the looks from other vehicles when I'm riding in my suit.
If you'll excuse me, I have to go figure out how I'm going to carry my dress shoes so I can change into them when I get there. I'm certainly not dumb enough to try riding wearing them...
I can't wait to see the looks from other vehicles when I'm riding in my suit.
If you'll excuse me, I have to go figure out how I'm going to carry my dress shoes so I can change into them when I get there. I'm certainly not dumb enough to try riding wearing them...
Friday, May 05, 2006
100 things 21 - 25
Here are things 1-5, 6 - 10, 11-15, and 16 - 20.
21. I can never wait for the pizza to cool down before I eat it. You'd think I'd learn, but every time I end up with blisters all over the roof of my mouth.
22. I'd like to live in Portland, Oregon. It's not as post-apocalyptic as the desert, but I'm just the man to bring the post-apocalypse to the Northwest.
23. I'm always amazed at how uncomfortable my bicycle is compared to my VX. It's also a lot scarier to lean. And it's slow. I swear when I first got it, it was the fastest bicycle I'd ever ridden. I still love my bicycle.
24. I'm continually surprised at how boring cars are. It seems the longer I ride, the less I like driving cars. I wonder if I'm getting claustrophobic, too....
25. I love reading other people's lists of gear they feel is indispensable when riding. The only part of the book "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" I liked was the list of what he was carrying. Other than that, I thought it was a rather dull book.
21. I can never wait for the pizza to cool down before I eat it. You'd think I'd learn, but every time I end up with blisters all over the roof of my mouth.
22. I'd like to live in Portland, Oregon. It's not as post-apocalyptic as the desert, but I'm just the man to bring the post-apocalypse to the Northwest.
23. I'm always amazed at how uncomfortable my bicycle is compared to my VX. It's also a lot scarier to lean. And it's slow. I swear when I first got it, it was the fastest bicycle I'd ever ridden. I still love my bicycle.
24. I'm continually surprised at how boring cars are. It seems the longer I ride, the less I like driving cars. I wonder if I'm getting claustrophobic, too....
25. I love reading other people's lists of gear they feel is indispensable when riding. The only part of the book "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" I liked was the list of what he was carrying. Other than that, I thought it was a rather dull book.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Vividly Disappointed
A true story for you:
Presently, my favorite pizza place of all time is located in Mankato, MN. I'm not going to tell you too much about the actual restaurant right now, because eventually I'm going to ride to it and review it. Also, I'm aware they have made some changes that have reduced my enthusiasm for the place. For example, they got rid of their totally awesome jukebox for a new one with all the popular crap frat-rock in it, and they stopped serving Grain Belt Premium beer in favor of BUD LIGHT.
Seriously, the beer change is unforgivable.
Anyways, this particular pizza parlor was more or less my favorite place in the whole world, except maybe for the tunnels under my dorm...
You don't need to know about that.
Ok, so once I was at this pizza place, and all my friends were there. I mean everybody. We've got three pizzas, cheese bread, several pitchers of Grain Belt Premium, and we've loaded the jukebox with 5 dollars worth of songs (a quarter a song, six for a buck). Everyone is feeling a little rowdy and we're having a boisterous, awesome time.
I stand up to tell everyone how glad I am that we were able to all get together, and that seriously, I'm having such an awesome time that I must be dreaming.
And then I woke up in St. Paul, MN. No shit. Needless to say, I was rather depressed.
Presently, my favorite pizza place of all time is located in Mankato, MN. I'm not going to tell you too much about the actual restaurant right now, because eventually I'm going to ride to it and review it. Also, I'm aware they have made some changes that have reduced my enthusiasm for the place. For example, they got rid of their totally awesome jukebox for a new one with all the popular crap frat-rock in it, and they stopped serving Grain Belt Premium beer in favor of BUD LIGHT.
Seriously, the beer change is unforgivable.
Anyways, this particular pizza parlor was more or less my favorite place in the whole world, except maybe for the tunnels under my dorm...
You don't need to know about that.
Ok, so once I was at this pizza place, and all my friends were there. I mean everybody. We've got three pizzas, cheese bread, several pitchers of Grain Belt Premium, and we've loaded the jukebox with 5 dollars worth of songs (a quarter a song, six for a buck). Everyone is feeling a little rowdy and we're having a boisterous, awesome time.
I stand up to tell everyone how glad I am that we were able to all get together, and that seriously, I'm having such an awesome time that I must be dreaming.
And then I woke up in St. Paul, MN. No shit. Needless to say, I was rather depressed.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Two interviews to ride to in one day.
It's been a ride-tacular day so far, and it looks like it's just going to keep getting better. This morning I rode to meet with a recruiter. It was cool because I got to ride through some of my favorite parts of downtown Phoenix. There are a couple of cool strips in downtown Phoenix with lots of green trees and shrubberies. It's very nice.
For those of you who don't live in the desert, "green" isn't exactly a common color around here. As such, Lady Luck and I go out of our way to see greenery on occasion.
The meeting with the recruiter was amusing. She took me into a closet-sized meeting room, and we went through the usual battery of questions (greatest strength: bitchin' motorcycle; greatest weakness: pizza), and I was amazed at just how strongly I smelled of exhaust. Frankly, I was relieved because someone who had been in that room before us had been wearing enough perfume to permanently alter the closet-odor.
This afternoon I've got another interview in a less-scenic, but still worthy, part of town. I'm not quite as excited about that one, as it's going to be hot out by the time I head that way. It should be ok as long as I don't have to sit in too much stop and go traffic. The heat doesn't bother me, but arriving at an interview all sweaty does. Note to self: get lightweight undershirts for interviews.
Anyway, it's shaping up to be a fun day. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to get on with the fun.
For those of you who don't live in the desert, "green" isn't exactly a common color around here. As such, Lady Luck and I go out of our way to see greenery on occasion.
The meeting with the recruiter was amusing. She took me into a closet-sized meeting room, and we went through the usual battery of questions (greatest strength: bitchin' motorcycle; greatest weakness: pizza), and I was amazed at just how strongly I smelled of exhaust. Frankly, I was relieved because someone who had been in that room before us had been wearing enough perfume to permanently alter the closet-odor.
This afternoon I've got another interview in a less-scenic, but still worthy, part of town. I'm not quite as excited about that one, as it's going to be hot out by the time I head that way. It should be ok as long as I don't have to sit in too much stop and go traffic. The heat doesn't bother me, but arriving at an interview all sweaty does. Note to self: get lightweight undershirts for interviews.
Anyway, it's shaping up to be a fun day. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to get on with the fun.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Parking lots can be fun.
This weekend Lady Luck borrowed Baldy-Beard's scooter, and we went out for a ride together. We went about 40 miles, all told, but we were out riding for a solid two hours. Lady Luck seems to be getting over her fear of gravity (because it's just a theory), and is becoming a much better rider overall.
Anyway, I let her lead since she's on the slower machine, and she managed to find some awesome, awesome places to ride. One totally unexpected find was the driveway and parking lot for the Desert Botanical Gardens. It was twisty, hilly, and generally amusing. In a parking lot. Granted, there were people around so we couldn't push our limits too hard, but sometimes dumb fun is the best fun.
Lady Luck led me through some other highly entertaining neighborhoods, and we never really went all that fast. She apparently has a gift for finding fun roads close to home.
Now I just gotta figure out how I'm going to get her on a sportbike...
Anyway, I let her lead since she's on the slower machine, and she managed to find some awesome, awesome places to ride. One totally unexpected find was the driveway and parking lot for the Desert Botanical Gardens. It was twisty, hilly, and generally amusing. In a parking lot. Granted, there were people around so we couldn't push our limits too hard, but sometimes dumb fun is the best fun.
Lady Luck led me through some other highly entertaining neighborhoods, and we never really went all that fast. She apparently has a gift for finding fun roads close to home.
Now I just gotta figure out how I'm going to get her on a sportbike...
Monday, May 01, 2006
A total space-filler post
A weird google search that got someone to The Great Motorcycle Pizza Tour: "Horses Scare Me"
Naturally, I had to try that out, and discovered that I'm in the top 10, if you search for the exact phrase "Horses Scare Me"
The search phrase: ["Horses scare me" +2006] lists me as #1. Apparently, I am the person most terrified of horses in 2006.
Well, it sure beats that one other phrase that got someone here. Between you and me, that topic scares me a lot more than horses
Naturally, I had to try that out, and discovered that I'm in the top 10, if you search for the exact phrase "Horses Scare Me"
The search phrase: ["Horses scare me" +2006] lists me as #1. Apparently, I am the person most terrified of horses in 2006.
Well, it sure beats that one other phrase that got someone here. Between you and me, that topic scares me a lot more than horses
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