Merry Moto-mas!

Hey everyone!

Have a great winter gift-giving holiday of your preference, and best wishes for the new year. May you all find a shiny new (or ratty and flat black, depending on your preference) bike under the Plowfest shovel this year.

Regular posting will resume soonish.

Scooter Madness

With the throttle wide fucking open, and the little bike leaned hard to the left, it's hard to understand how any self-respecting man could refuse the temptation of a lightweight, big-bore scooter. 250 cubic centimeters is plenty of displacement to rocket a shopping-cart sized vehicle to ridiculous speeds. Add in the ability to turn 360 degrees in a space not much bigger than 10 feet square and you've got a vehicle that's nearly ideal, to those of a certain mindset.

Lady Luck's Vespa, the smallest bike in our stable, has been sitting mainly idle for the last several months. This was partly due to a lack of time, and partly due to a recall on a bit of the exhaust that could really hose things up if it failed.

As such, it's been mainly big-bike fun for me of late. Some might say 600 cubic centimeters does not make a big bike, but those people are assholes. Compared to the Vespa, the Speed Four is ungainly.

Last night we took the Vespa in to get the recalled part replaced (it only took them 2 weeks to get the part! What service!). Due to sitting for so long, the little demon didn't want to run. It would start, then die if we let of the throttle at all.

Because of this, instead of Lady Luck riding the Vespa to the dealer, she had me do it. I was, as you might imagine, more than willing to take on this new challenge.

Once the massive 250 cubic centimeters of raw Italian power were suitably warmed, the Vespa ran just fine.

Naturally, that meant that the dark forces of scooter-hooliganism descended upon me. Lane changes were not mere shifts to the left or right, they were death-defying feats of pure abandon. Stoplights became instruments of torture as I waited endlessly for the green lights to let me launch the little bike far past the reaches of the lumbering cages around me.

Every time I take the Vespa in for service, the techs ask how I like it, and every time I respond that I like it so much Lady Luck won't let me ride it most of the time. As I always tell the skeptical, riding a scooter is like piloting a fast, street-legal go-kart through the wilds of Phoenix.

There are some thrills that one can only experience on a full-size motorcycle. Hitting the ton on a completely stock bike comes to mind, as does accelerating hard up mountain grades. All the same, unless you're some kind of Satan's Helpers poseur, you owe it to yourself to find a scooter and ride the hell out of it.

Of course, if you're anything like me, it might be best if you save it for special occasions. Otherwise, you could get into trouble.

Fusilli's Pizza Review!

This week, I'm spending my days in technical training in a different part of downtown Phoenix from where I normally work. Since I was in a new place, I figured I should really sample the local flavor a little bit.

Ok, seriously, the training is taking place at a mall, and the pizza place is a part of that mall. I can't find anything on the web about them, however, so I assume they're independent (enough).

The place?

Fusilli's
3110 N Central Ave Ste 107
Phoenix, AZ 85012
(602) 266-1490

To briefly sum it up - this is a mall restaurant. It tastes like bland. I have to give them credit for making their own crust. Maybe in the future they could work on making crust that doesn't taste like paper. The pepperoni was barely adequate, the cheese was ok, and there was a vague red coloring under the cheese that I assume was meant to imply sauce. However, there was not enough sauce to actually taste it.

On the other hand, it was remarkably convenient since I was in the area.

The area, by the way, is currently torn up in every direction as the Phoenix light rail project continues. I can't wait for the light rail to be done for two reasons:

One, I want to ride the light rail.

Two, it's impossible to get around while the roads are all torn up.

I've found a sneaky back route into the mall (actually, Lady Luck found it, I just use it.). I'm not willing to share the details because I don't want anyone else to use it while I still need it.

Anyway, should you find yourself hankering for pizza near Central and Earll in Phoenix... why not go somewhere else?


They get a generous one Crying Lucky*, because their staff is pretty good without being obnoxious "mall friendly."





*For those who are new to this, the scale is 1 to 5 Crying Luckies, 1 being low, 5 being high.

Final Thoughts on This Year's Moto-Novel.

I know that you've all been dying to read more about that frickin' novel I wrote instead of posting beer reviews, moto musings and perhaps even pizza reviews. So, in a convenient list format, here's what I took away from this year's National Novel Writing Month.

• Writing a novel, in particular a funny novel, that is good enough that I'm not afraid to post it on my blog for others to read is really hard.
• Especially when the novel's plot isn't driven by the main character's location on a map. Which, incidentally, is a great way to write a novel fast. "Where are they going today?" will net you a solid 1,000 words even if you don't describe anything along the way.
• I really need to describe things more. What did my characters taste like? Who knows?! I didn't tell anyone. Description is great for word count.
• "Showing" instead of "Telling" is great if you know what the hell the characters are going to do next. If not, telling works just fine, thanks.
• It sucks when your novel ends 2000 words shy of your goal. What do you add? I had insufficient time to go back through the novel looking for places to explain exactly what the chicken thought about everything and how it smelled while it was thinking.
• Getting 4000 words behind on one's word count is a great way to ensure a bad mood.
• Sometimes, going for a long ride will help you sort out what you want to write. Other times, it just eats up time that should have been spent writing about the chicken's favored hair style.
• Some people think coffee and chocolate are essential writing tools. These people are wrong. Great writers for centuries have been relying on beer and cigarettes to get them through. Which is worse, a beer and one cigarette a night, or an entire bag of Dove chocolate and a pot of coffee?
• Writers, in case you didn't know, are weird. I'm living proof.
• Even famous, gifted and wildly-popular writers think their own novels suck, so therefore, my novel is probably pretty good. I'm looking forward to reading it (after a month away from it).

Brain Recharge

National Novel Writing Month is over. Hooray! Now I can get back to the important stuff like posting here, and working on getting my moto-business going.

Proper posts resume this week, once my brain comes back from wherever...