Givin' Up The Favorite

First, if you haven't read the post immediately below this one, do so now.

This internet thing continues to amaze. A commenter in response to my son's problem finding a "reasonably priced shipper" left a link to contact "U-Ship".
My son did, then called me.
"Dad, I found a shipper that will move the bike for $425, and he has nothing but favorable reviews."
"That's GREAT son! I can't imagine you'll do any better than that. Hire him."
"There's one problem Dad... To get that rate the bike has to be ready to go TOMORROW."
(Here he pauses to gauge my reaction.)
"Sigh. Well I suppose we could make it work. What time will he be there to pick up the bike?"
"I'll have him call you."

And so it unfolded that my favorite ride, that old 800cc BMW, is now on its first leg to Arizona.
The guy called and we agreed he would meet me at 0830 hours. The gas tank had to be empty, but there were no other restrictions. I got home to find a big Dually GMC truck with an absolutely HUMUNGOUS trailer behind it parked in front of our house with two guys sleeping in the cab.
I drained the tank on the BMW, opened the garage door, and the guy called...
"Is that you I see milling around in there?"

Nice guy. He took great care to load the bike securely to avoid damage, then waved goodbye and drove off. He will unload the bike, fill the trailer with furniture from a 3-bedroom home, then reload the bike at the end of the trailer...
L.I.F.O..
Big Bubba should be lookin' at the old airhead this weekend.
Strange... I'm happy and sad at the same time. I'll miss the bike, but know he's gonna love it as much as I did.

I'm already looking for another old Beemer.

Zen, And Motorcycle Repair

It was pretty exciting at first...
My son was chatting with friends about his Dad getting back into motorcycling.
That conversation evolved into how much money he might save if he learned to ride, then bought a bike to use on his commute to work rather than drive his truck.
His friend said, "I have a bike I'll give you... it's a 400cc Yamaha."
Not much skin off his nose really... the bike hadn't run in years and was covered with "stuff" in the back of his garage. They uncovered the bike, pushed it out into the sunlight, and sent me a photo of my son sitting on it. Like the bike in the above picture, it didn't LOOK bad.

The gas tank needed to be flushed. The carburetors would obviously need a cleaning.
But having done that, it was our hope the bike, with a fresh oil change, would spring to life and my son could cut his fuel bill in half (or more).

Problems started when they tried to flush the gas tank...
The fuel shutoff (petcock) leaked. Badly. Knowing the carburetors would also need a chemical bath, they took the bike to the local shop and asked them to do both jobs. In the meantime, my son took and passed the Motorcycle Safety Foundation's Basic Rider Course. He was READY TO RIDE!

A week passed and the shop hadn't turned a wrench on the bike.
Another week passed... still nothing. The weather was perfect and my son was champing at the bit.
I told him, "Ask your friends at the MSF course to recommend a repair shop and take the bike there. These folks are jerking you around."
He loaded the bike up and took it to the shop they recommended.
And again it sat, and sat.

Then it hit me like a bolt from the blue-
My friend Stuart lived close and his vocation for decades has been... MOTORCYCLE MECHANIC!
"Go get the bike. Take it to Stu. I trust him."

But Stu's advice was disappointing. Over the phone to me he said, "GB, it may take $1500 or more to make this bike safe and dependable. It's been sitting a LONG time. The fuel system... fork seals, tires, chain, all need work, and that's just the start. What about the transmission and the electrics? It would be better to spend that money on a bike that's running."
So the bike is once again in the back of my son's friend's garage. And my son has no two-wheeled mount to use to cut his fuel bill in half.

So I volunteered the services of my old BMW. It's an easy bike to ride... comfortable as an old shoe and not much more difficult than the 400cc Yamaha would have been.
My son is ecstatic and is now trying to find a shipper that can move the bike to the Phoenix area at a reasonable cost.

The biggest downside? I LOVE riding that bike, so now I have to start looking for another!
eBay/craigslist, here we go again.

Let Your Voice Be Heard

I asked, "We used to be told a telephone call was ignored. In order to get someone's attention you had to actually write a letter. What about email? Do our elected officials pay any attention to those?"

Elizabeth Letchworth responded, "You have to be careful to email via a site they'll pay attention to, like mine."

So I will.
Emailing your elected representatives via Elizabeth's site requires you to register, taking only a few seconds.
I'm certain that leaving a message for your Senator or Congressman there HAS to be more effective than screaming deleted expletives at your TV screen as I have done repeatedly, lately.

Go.
Register.
Let 'em know you're mad as hell and you're not gonna take it anymore.

Sign of Intelligence?

In my experience, dogs that exhibit this "head twisting" while listening to their human are easy to train. I bet this shepherd could make breakfast if he/she had thumbs:

Why We're Probably Screwed, No Matter What.

Incompetence.

The last couple days have been mighty amusing for conservatives, watching the tone deaf Bozama administration trying to retrace and cover their tracks after fumbling this "Freedom of religion" issue so badly. Of course it would be even funnier if it wasn't another indication that the country is being lead by total idiots. This is not "Freedonia", so we can't just wait for the movie to end, the credits to roll and relax, knowing the adults really are in charge.

THE ECONOMY IS IMPROVING!

The administration and our lefty media are shouting it from the rooftops. It's my belief we'll soon see these already tepid January jobs numbers revised downward, and when those corrected numbers are made public the news will be whispered, or printed on page 42 in small print.
As I write this, major media is trumpeting the polls, many of which show the President(?) ahead of all Republican contenders. Isn't he wonderful?

But know this. He isn't wonderful. Soon that will be apparent, and we are all gonna suffer for it.

Consider-

Congress is still fighting over details as to the handling of the extension of the Payroll tax holiday.

Included in those negotiations are the extension of unemployment benefits, and the patch for Doctors who were being shortchanged if they treated medicare patients.
The same old question comes to the fore-
Will we increase taxes at a time when the economy is already weakened, or will we have the political strength to start cutting government spending? Either way, it's gonna be painful.

Then also consider-
Over the next few months, (during an election year!), Congress will also have to debate:
-The extension of the Bush tax cuts.
-The fix for the "alternative minimum tax".
In the present political environment, these discussions will be NASTY. And honestly, I don't think there's an adult in the room. So I don't hold a lot of hope for much to be done.

What's all this mean?
I think it means we are Greece.
Or 1970's Brazil or Argentina.
Which means we will default on our debt.
And then life will get VERY interesting!

Buy ammunition.
Start talking with your neighbors about how you'll defend one another when the "Occupy" folks come to take what is "rightfully theirs".

The (Unfortunate) Truth:

Instapundit pointed me to the video.
Another pointed video here.

Testosterone Overdose

Maori Haka:

BMW Cafe-

I'd like to see how he shot this:



More bike pics and videos here.

Eligibility!

Constitutional eligibility for the House of Representatives:
"No Person shall be a Representative who shall not have attained to the age of twenty five Years, and been seven Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State in which he shall be chosen. "

Constitutional eligibility for the Senate:
"No Person shall be a Senator who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty Years, and been nine Years a Citizen of the United States and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State for which he shall be chosen."

Constitutional eligibility for President of the United States:
"No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States."

You know how slow I am mentally, so I once again need your help!
Why does it say "Citizen" when it defines the eligibility requirements for Representative and Senator, but "natural born Citizen" for President?

Nothing to see here folks... we have things under control.
Move along!

Breaking Perfectly Good Rules

Pavement Pizza.
That's what one of my peers called some of the folks we pick up at scenes.
He made the mistake of using the term over the radio on the way to the hospital. Folks in EMS sometimes use VERY dark humor to keep some of our transports from driving us insane, but it's best to keep those jokes within the EMS family...
His company promptly fired him.

Scene flights are exciting. As I've said before, I think they are the closest thing to combat flying you can do as a civilian pilot. Time is critical. Landing at night in an unfamiliar, virtually unprepared LZ can get your juices flowing. Sometimes we arrive before our patient has been extracted from the wreckage and steam, smoke, and broken glass are everywhere. And obviously, if you cannot stand the sight of blood, this is not the job for you.

Motorcycle accidents can be ugly. One of the States we cover is a "No helmet required" State, and many of our clients think their head covered by a "Doo-rag" is perfectly satisfactory as protective gear.
Which brings to mind another of those phrases I frequently use:
"In EMS we know why they call it 'Gray Matter'. We see it up-close and personal. It's called that because it is gray!"

Now that I'm back on two wheels, knowing I'm older (but wiser) and my reflexes ain't what they once was, I've set rules for myself to try to avoid exposing my gray matter. One of the rules I set for myself was because of the literal explosion of White-tail deer in our area-
I promised myself I wouldn't ride after dark in rural areas.
It's a fine rule.

But Global warming has descended on our area with a vengeance. The last three days have been as nearly perfect as our Good Lord can make 'em. I had to fly with a student in BigTown a couple days ago and when I checked my thermometer it registered 63 degrees. I looked up-
Not a cloud in the sky. Checking the radar and satellite showed there wasn't a cloud within 500 miles. But riding in to fly with this student meant I'd be riding home in the dark...
Through some areas with LOTS of deer.

Rules were meant to be broken.
Actually, I just bent this one. I rode, and had an ear-to-ear smile on my face the entire trip.
(On my way in I noticed several OLD cemeteries along the road that I want to investigate later. I LOVE old cemeteries. I've passed these by for 30 years in a car and had never noticed them. Think your "seeing" is better when you're on a bike?!!)
But to the degree I could I stayed on 4-lane roads where heavy traffic was more likely to spook deer to stay away. When I was finally forced to take two-laners, I slowed in those areas where woods came close to both sides of the road and deer might cross from one side to another. And you know what? Forty miles per hour on a bike is still more pleasant than driving the speed limit in a steel box!
Temps were above 60 again today. I rode the older 'Wing to work tonight and used the same technique. The ride was GRAND.

The oil is draining out of the bike as I type this. New oil and filter will be in place before I head for home in the morning. Forecast temps for tomorrow?
60+
Can you read my mind?

That First Step-

On the phone Wednesday I made the arrangements...
We will Winter in Destin, Florida this year. The plans now are to arrive in November and stay there until the end of February.
It's a huge step... so huge, Sara Jean cried all day stressed with the thought of such change in our lives. We've since had long discussions about how this will work and she has settled to the idea.
Me? I'm just disappointed the old rule is true that "the plan will work perfectly until contact with the enemy is made"...
My retirement plan went all to pieces over the last two years.

It was never my plan to quit work completely. Sara Jean's work is physical, so I wanted her to be able to quit completely if she wanted. But I always figured I'd continue to work at least part-time until my body assumes ambient temperature...
Flight/Ground instruction.
Buying and selling used aircraft.
Scavenging aluminum cans from the roadside.
Being "Greeter" at the WalMart.
I like work and feel no work is beneath me. We'll be fine so long as there is enough money.
But there is the rub we all face...
How much is "enough"?

Most of us are facing the same scenario...
Our 401K's have become 200.5K's.
Until two years ago I felt phat...
We'd have had more income in retirement than while preparing for it. The market downturn means my years of preparation will provide just enough income to continue our present standard of living. Supplementing retirement funds with part-time work will put gravy on the mashed potatoes and will also provide a second benefit... I'll be out of Sara Jean's hair much of the time.

Now the "elephant in the room" question...
When do I actually retire? I still love my job. I respect most of my co-workers. It's the petty politics and the attitude of a few people that irritate me and keep my job from being perfect.
And that's my burr beneath the saddle...
I've never been good about keeping my mouth shut when I get irritated, and it gets harder as I get older.

So I'm working to pay off our debts. I'm shuffling money around to conserve it.
And as we realize we'll be fine, we're adjusting to the idea of spending next Winter on the balcony overlooking the Gulf of Mexico with an adult beverage close at hand.

"Welcome to WalMart. Enjoy your shopping experience!"

Newt?

Bob Dole says a Newt nomination would be disastrous.
John McCain has endorsed Mitt Romney.
Yeah...
That certainly helps make up my mind.

January 25, SR-71

I don't remember the incident.
Perhaps it was because I simply wasn't paying attention.
Or maybe it slipped by unnoticed in all my birthday celebrating. But until recently I was unaware we had ever lost one of these fabulous machines.
Ejecting at mach 3.8?
Unbelievable.
More here.

I prefer to think of them in "faster than a speeding bullet" mode.

Forty-six years later we still appreciate your sacrifice, Jim Zwayer.
Rest in peace.

Wherever You Are-

Thanks Arlene and Clarke!

General Spruance

In the early '70's I had the privilege of seeing this man in person with 300 or so of my peers at a safety seminar at Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, Georgia.
At the time he was what we affectionately called a "Crispy Critter"...
No hair. No ears.No eyebrows. His burns looked MUCH worse then. Oddly, I think his warnings had more impact when he looked less like a human being.

I've looked for this video for a while...
His talk had a dramatic impact on me then, and if/when you watch it, it will have an impact on you. (Got kids? His auto accident tips are worthwhile so you may want teens and older to watch too.)
The video is almost 90 minutes long, so you'll need to set aside the time to watch it at some point in the future.
Take the time. You may, like me, find yourself remembering some pieces of it at the oddest times. And at those times you'll be glad you are human and have the ability to learn from the mistakes of others so you don't become a "Crispy Critter" yourself.
He's humorous at times. Enjoy:

Watching Science Fiction Become Science Fact.

I don't know why, but it troubled me from the time I saw it. I think the reason it troubled me was that I could see, fantastic as the idea was at its core, there was a frightening reality there.
It was a "Star Trek" episode called "A Taste of Armageddon". In the episode, two tribes are warring with one another. The "gimmick" of the story is that the two warring factions have come to an agreement to "war" in a civilized fashion:
Why destroy one another's infrastructure and face the ugliness of having to clean up and bury dead bodies? Why not fight one another via computer simulations?
A catchy idea and neat solution, right? But these two tribes went even further-
When the computer simulation indicated X number of citizens had been killed in an attack, that tribe, by treaty, had to line up that number of citizens and send them to the "disintegration booth". Inspectors from the warring tribes were there to insure the contract was fulfilled.
A clean, intelligent alternative to settle disputes.
"Our computer versus your computer".

I've been reminded of that episode a lot lately. We've been using unmanned drones quite a while in dangerous missions so that we don't have a pilot at risk. At first, these missions were for reconnaissance... then someone realized we could attach a missile to the drone and actually use them as fighter/bombers.

One of our drones recently succeeded in "saving" itself by landing virtually undamaged in Iran. It's easy to see where this progresses, "Star Trek" style...
Our enemies "reverse-engineer" our technology... maybe even tweak it a little here and there to improve it, and the next thing you know OUR leaders are being blown up by stealthy pilotless aircraft flying unseen, overhead.

For some time now the "weak link" in fighter aircraft has been human capabilities. Our "Electric Jet" F-16 fighters actually have the ability to sense when the pilot has been subjected to forces rendering them unconscious, and are programmed to try to save aircraft and pilot under these circumstances. We know that future fighters will either have to find a way to overcome human frailties or get the job done without a human onboard. Having no pilot at risk is so attractive, it's easy to see that we'll soon be fielding "unmanned" fighter aircraft to do that dirty job.
And surely we'll then see "our unmanned fighters versus your unmanned fighters"...
Who can build the best flying computer?

We use computers because they are better/faster at calculating than we are. In 1997, chess champ Gary Kasparov was beaten by Deep Blue, a computer developed for the task by IBM. Deep Blue simply could crunch more numbers
than Kasparov... calculating thousands of different permutations for each move and planning hundreds of possible future moves. I'm told great chess champions can plan five or so future moves.
That was in '97, and computers have not been idle...
They're getting better and faster every moment. Some are predicting that computer "thinking" power will exceed that of man by the year 2020.
What happens then? Do we resign ourselves to our machines and let them take over? Will we face "disintegration booths"?
Or will our computers be smart enough to finally resolve the problem and point out how stupid we are by wasting our material and human resources in useless wars?
That is my hope.

So now the question is, can we make it to the year 2020 without destroying our world so our computers have something to save?
Meanwhile, the "Doomsday Clock" continues to tick!

Who Owns It?

It's an interesting day on the innertubez.
Wikipedia is unavailable.
Google is up, but management there is expressing its displeasure with government tampering by covering their logo with a black band.
I wish this was a "black and white" issue. It's not. I can see truth in both sides of the argument.
But for me, FREEDOM always comes first.

I just tried to go read a couple favorite blogs and find they are also down.
If I owned those blogs I'd be angry and frustrated, and I'd be inquiring about my 1st amendment rights.

Obviously, that's not a problem here.
Thank you "BLOGGER!"

Curtis Mathes, Muntz, Sylvania, Zenith... On And On.

I pushed the button on the remote control and the TV came on but the picture was about half its normal size, and although it still displayed colors the overall tint was blue, like viewing it through blue sunglasses. I pushed the button again, then again, to reset it...
Nuttin'.
How old was this set? Wow... lemme think.
It's a non-HD set. We bought it on sale "a while" ago. It was on sale because the remote was missing. I initially bought a "universal" remote for it that worked most of the functions, but when we started using "Dish Network" I was able to make the Dish remote work all the functions but "picture on picture".
No big deal.

Its first duty station was downstairs in the living room, then we moved it to the Master B-room when we bought the new flat screen and installed that downstairs.
It was heavy. I was a blockhead and wanted to prove I could move it upstairs by myself, and I did too...
One step up. Stop and rest. Another step up. Stop and rest.
Thirteen steps. Stop and rest, wheezing.
Finally, lift the thing four feet into its new cabinet.
Wheeze some more.

But the memory of that move makes me realize how quickly time has passed and how old this set is.
Is it even worth fixing? I haven't seen or talked with my old friend Jim the TV repairman in YEARS... is he even still in business?
Grab the phone book and EUREKA, he's still listed! I sheepishly call him...
"Whatd'ya think Jim? Is it even worth the effort?"
"Well, bring it in and I'll look at it, but I'll have to charge you $40 to open it up. If it's worthwhile to fix it, the forty bucks will pay part of the bill."

This set is a Sanyo. You tell me... Korean?
I think Zenith was the last brand made in the USofA and I bought one of the last sets they made within our borders. (Got good service out of it too.) Zenith moved their factory, I believe to Mexico, years ago. Can you even buy something with the name "Zenith" on the front now?
Samsung. Sanyo. Vizio. Magnavox! (Where is that old American name now made?)

And we all know the "problem" don't we?
We can go into Wally World and buy a brand-spanking new (HD!) TV for nearly nothing...
Why fix an older non-HD set?

But having called Jim I feel obligated to give him a shot.
I lug the thing downstairs...
Step. Rest. Wheeze. Repeat. And load it into the rear seat of the car.
More wheezing at his shop, I hand over forty bucks cash and he hands me a receipt and tells me he'll call with the diagnosis.
I shudder at the thought of having to tote the thing back upstairs and secretly hope he calls to tell me it's dead.
Unfortunately, he's able to fix it. And it only costs me another $20...
A bad capacitor or somesuch.
That was a couple years ago, and the old soldier soldiers on.

We pretty much invented TV. For years we were the leaders in the technology. Sets were so expensive you repaired them when they broke. I can remember when "remote control" meant Mom or Dad telling me or my sister to "change to channel 4".
Now? They're not worth fixing. (And they're much lighter... easier to put out alongside the garbage cans on "trash pick-up" day.)

We're told by REALLY SMART people that this global market is a good thing...
That cheaper goods from other countries means we have more discretionary income to spend if we want more cheap goods from Korea, Viet Nam, or China.
Maybe I'm not so smart.
But the fact we don't make our own cars, motorcycles, electronics, etc. still scares me.

I fear we'll one day look back at the 1950's with nostalgia in many ways.
Please. Let me be wrong.

Peeing In A Cup

Born January 1947... 65 this year.
My flight physical is scheduled today at 1800 hours.
Until recently I didn't worry about visiting my friend (and former student) Dr. Rich.
But last year I finally broke down, put the cheater/reading glasses away, and popped for a real pair of bifocals. (The improvement in my seeing was considerable, particularly chart-reading at night.)
What's that? My hearing? Were you asking about my hearing?
Forty-four years of being exposed to one of the noisiest environments known to man...
But if you WERE asking, thanks for your concern.

My blood pressure last time around was 110/70. My weight is up since last year, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed those numbers will increase only slightly.

Diabetes runs in my family.
On both sides.
And my diet and exercise program lately has gone the way of Barack Obama's economy.
Peeing in the cup is always a concern.

But I look around me at peers and realize the blessings of health I have had to this point, and know that if I fail this physical I won't be able to complain...
I've had a great run.
But I don't know what I'd do if I had to grow up and actually start working at a JOB.

"No Reserve!"

Sigh.
There is so much to learn, and some things don't come easily to me.

I want to buy another bike. There is no room in the garage, so the purchase of another (smaller, maybe an 883 Sportster) bike is dependent on the sale of the older GoldWing.
A couple folks were interested enough to come and check it out in person. Both wanted to make trades for vehicles I'm not interested in, so their purchase of my bike is dependent on the sale of the vehicles they wanted to trade me. Still, I'm checking eBay daily, just to insure I know what prices bikes I'm interested in are bringing. And that's where I need your help-

"NO RESERVE!" it says at the top of the narrative for the bike.
Yet under the bid box we are informed, "Reserve not met", even though 14 people have bid on this machine. And you see where I'm confused...
If there's no reserve, how can the reserve not be met?

I'm sure there's a simple explanation this simple mind can understand.
Hep me somebody!

I Now Believe in Global Warming.

Temps were in the mid-sixties yesterday, and again today.
Normal highs in these parts are mid-forties.
I took advantage of the weather and rode the Pizza Bike to work last night, even though I had to arrive at my workplace 90 minutes early in order to avoid riding in the dark.
It was worth it. It felt like Spring and was invigorating. (Going home this morning was a little "nipply"!)

The Winter has been unbelievably mild so far in our part of the world. Yesterday's high temp actually was a record breaker. Today's high came within four degrees or so of being another record high.
Maybe the climate is getting warmer. But you still cannot convince me man is the cause.
When we start breaking record highs on a daily basis, then maybe I'll consider all this shouting and spittle-spreading "settled science".

John B., where are you?
When the "spitters" were caught trying to fudge the data, you kinda fell off the earth, pal!

"Oh (Deleted Expletive)!"

Cool heads, both in the cockpit and on the ground.
Airliners have great anti-ice systems to deal with this. The rest of us try to avoid it all all costs.

I "Assumed".

In many ways I'm still VERY naive.
I have cut back on the number of folks I call close and allow within my "wall".
And among those folks were friends I included in my circle because we share a great deal... assuming we shared political views because we were so much alike in so many other ways.

And then in a discussion about my hope for smaller, more efficient government my friend said "Well, they are trying to help people".
This, from someone who ran a business and knows full well how efficient (not!) government, ANY government is.

Then, the icing on the cake...
In a discussion re: the poor investment decision-making of mutual friends who had lost all of their retirement savings I hear the comment, "Well, government should insure that cannot happen."

I don't want to live in that world.
And I'm VERY uncomfortable with anyone who can even make such statements.

We live in a world where "Jersey Shore" and "Keeping Up With the Kardashians" are top-rated TV shows.
With that in mind, why are we surprised Barack Obama was elected in 2008?
I won't be surprised at ANY outcome in 2012.

Signs of The Times-

When I read something in a blog that strikes a chord, my initial reaction is to hit the "like" button. It's irritating to remember there isn't one.

You all know my hearing is less than satisfactory these days. Listening to the radio
I frequently miss important parts and think, "I'll just back that up so I can hear it again."
Everything that is broadcast should have TIVO's capabilities.

And it's my bet one day they will.

The Douglas Dragonfly

Vincent. Brough. Henderson. Excelsior. Ariel.
Those brands are familiar.
Douglas?
A new marque to me. (And doesn't that engine look like an old boxer BMW?)

It's British. Owned by the brothers Douglas, the company was the first to experiment with disc brakes on their racing bikes (in the 1920's!)

If you'd like to learn more about the Douglas "Dragonfly", go HERE.

"The Christmas We Get We Deserve"-

It is my hope that what you deserve is an adequately filled tummy, warmth in your surroundings, freedom from fear, contact with friends and loved ones, (and a lack of friction there), and just enough stress in your life to make it interesting.
Those of you who come here often to comment have become family in an odd way.
I appreciate your thoughts.

"Odd Family"... thank you.

Ya Can't Roller Skate In A Buffalo Herd

And I won't ride a motorcycle when it's raining and the thermometer says 45 degrees.
I'm pretty tough, but I'm not interested in seeing how miserable I can make myself.
All four of the bikes have electrical systems that drain the battery even with the ignition off...
Clocks, radio memory, etc.. I like to start them all and ride them half an hour or so every two weeks. But it has rained a lot lately, and my time off hasn't coincided with dry days.
Monday morning the rain stopped. By afternoon the temp was still about 45 but the streets were dry. I disconnected the trickle charger, pushed the old BMW out of the garage, and rode into town to pick up a few needed items.
Later, Sara Jean came home and said, "I have a craving for a 'Subway' sandwich... let's go get one."
To which I replied, "Bundle up. Let's ride."
And so we did... top speed of 30 mph in third gear. Still, it felt great, good for bike, and us.

Big Bubba flew in from Arizona last night. I drove into BigTown to pick him up and arrived early so I could do a little last minute shopping before going to the train station to pick him up. I arrived at the Mall about 9 P.M... they were staying open until midnight. I was surprised at the number of folks there shopping, and most of them were actually carrying bags of items they had purchased. Almost everything was on SALE, so it will be interesting to see how retailers have done this year. I suspect the fact that sales started early and stores have kept their doors open longer will mean profits will be slim. Let's see if my feeling of the pulse is correct.

So the Greybeards are ready for Christmas. It's been a year since BB has been home and it is a comfort just knowing we can reach out an touch him. I'm starting my week of nights tonight so our celebrations will be scheduled around my hours at home. That's fine. It may limit chances for disagreement.

All of us in EMS hope to be sitting on our hands the next few days. All too often we are called to cases we know will taint memories of the holidays for years to come. All we can do is try to mitigate the damage and hope to make those memories brighter.
Hold your loved ones close, everyone.
And behave yourself... please.

The Final Frontier

Our steps toward space haven't been halted...
Just detoured, to a more efficient path.
Lead on, Mr. Rutan!

On Two Wheels Part 4- The Japanese Two-Strokes

"Combat Pay".
It IS just as it sounds... pay for being in an area where your body might get perforated by some fast-moving projectile.

I was in Viet Nam, a single guy making a decent wage. And on top of that decent wage my Uncle Sam was adding "Combat Pay" and something called "Hazardous Duty Pay", because someone in the Federal Government actually thought flying low-level in a fairly large, slow-moving target over folks wanting to perforate me was hazardous!

For a year my food, clothing, and lodging were paid for.
Even my "wants" were cheap...
A Scotch and water at the "O Club" was 35 cents. If I tried hard enough I could drink six of 'em in an evening and stagger back to my hooch having spent all of $3.00, including the tip for the beautiful, almond-eyed cynic that delivered the libations.

I paid little attention to my checking account as the year slowly passed. But I subconsciously knew my funds would be accruing and I knew I wanted two things when I got "Back to the world"...
I wanted to get back to Savannah, Georgia and teach others to fly "Hueys".
I wanted to buy a new motorcycle and, on warm evenings, with an attractive member of the opposite sex, take regular rides to Savannah Beach.

To that end, about halfway through my year-long tour I started educating myself by reading motorcycle magazines. As a teen I had mostly ridden Harley-Davidsons. Back then, anything other than a Harley was something less.
But in 1968-'69 there was big change going on in the biking industry...
Triumph and BSA had just come out with a new 750cc triple.
Honda, Yamaha, Suzuki, and Kawasaki all had new offerings. And there were rumors Honda was about to release a radical new machine.
But all the magazines were RAVING about the performance of the new Kawasaki two stroke triple:






























Zero-to-sixty time of 3.2 seconds!
Top speed around 120 m.p.h.!
I decided to kill two birds with one stone-
Buy my first Japanese motorcycle. Buy the first bike I ever owned with a two-cycle engine.
At the end of my Viet Nam tour I got my wish to return to Savannah. I quickly found the local Kaw dealer and bought a machine exactly like the one pictured above.
It was evil.
Extraordinarily fast in a straight line, in turns the frame couldn't stand up to stresses involved and it flexed and wobbled terribly. It made a noise like a hive of hornets. Two-stroke engines produce more horsepower for a given displacement and engine weight, but the penalty you pay is in fuel efficiency... they are gas hogs.
Vibrations made the handgrips buzz and would put your hands to sleep on long trips.
From dead-stop, the initial acceleration of these machines was less than mediocre. Then, as the tachometer ticked past 4000 rpm... WHOA NELLIE!! It was as if someone flicked a light switch...
All the torque the engine could produce came on, trying to wrench your hands from the bars. It was difficult to keep the front wheel on the ground in first and second gear.

I loved the power of the thing. After riding it just over 10,000 miles I bought another one almost exactly like it (with upgraded electronic ignition) the following model year.

A year after that the rumors started...
Kawasaki was coming out with an even faster bike.
They were increasing the displacement of their two-stroke triple to 750cc's.
I went to my Kawasaki dealer, (who was now a close friend) and threatened him with noogies and wedgies if he sold the first 750 he received to anyone other than me. He called me when they had the first bike out of the crate and assembled. I rode home on it that night. This is what it looked like:
























That disc brake up front eliminated any chance at brake fade, so it stopped better. But the rest of the evils remained:
Noise. Vibration. Terrible handling in anything other than a straight line.

All in all, I rode over 30,000 miles on Kaw triples in five years.
In spite of their terrible faults, I still have fond memories of all of 'em.
Others obviously do too...
Prices for examples in good shape on eBay bring more than I'd consider spending for one.
(But I'm still lookin'. And if I can find one in decent shape at a reasonable price, I might just own one again!)

Too Good...

You may have had a similar experience...
It happened to me shortly after I got my driver's license, setting the date sometime in 1963 or '64, so the subject car would have been about five years old.

One of my closest friends says, "My Uncle knows a guy who is trying to sell a '59 Cadillac for $100.00. But there is a problem...
The owner died in it and wasn't found for several days, and the car reeks of the smell of his decaying corpse."

Wow. $100 for a car that was the "Cadillac" of automobiles when it was new?
For a new driver it was tempting. If necessary, I could drive that sucker around for a year or so with the windows rolled down, even when it was -4 degrees F. outside!
I talked with my old man...
"Well, if necessary we can take it apart and sell it as a parts car. The engine alone would be worth more than the asking price."

So I called my buddy-
"Tell your Uncle the car is sold. Where should I take the check?"

And you probably know "The rest of the story" already, don't you?
The rest of the story is that my good friend didn't return my call.

Oh well.
The car probably had a prosthetic hook hanging from the passenger door too.

Fine For Me, But For You? Not So Much!

How do you know you've been a successful parent?
I won't even attempt to answer that. Jerry Sandusky's parents probably thought they had done a decent job raising their son. If they're still alive, they must now be reconsidering.

But our son has been on his own for almost five years now. He supports himself, and we're often made proud by remarks we hear from those associated with him at work and play. Thanks to Verizon, the 2000 miles that separate us are almost eliminated by several cell-phone calls daily.
He talks with his Mother often...
He calls me (not so often), when he wants advice or reassurance.

He has watched with interest how his old man has gotten back into motorcycling now that he's moved to Arizona. Last Fall he even rode behind me on the GoldWing about a half hour to see what that experience would be like. It was chilly and he wasn't dressed properly, but still he seemed to enjoy the ride.

I think he's been talking motorcycles with his friends in Arizona, because one of those friends just GAVE him the Yamaha 400 "Special" that has been sitting idle in his garage for a couple years.

His drive from his Casa Grande, AZ home to his workplace in Chandler, AZ takes about 40 minutes and is spent mostly on Interstate 10. His Ford Explorer "Sport Trac" gets a little over 20 m.p.g. on the highway, so he's burnin' about 4 gallons of fuel each round-trip.
Driven sanely, the Yamaha should get around 50 m.p.g. and will cut his fuel costs in half. Great Arizona weather should allow him to ride the bike to work much of the year.

When his friend gave him the bike our son called and was excited.
We are excited, AND concerned.
In my head I'm thinkin', "It's okay for me to something slightly dangerous and fun, but I'm not so sure I want you doing the same thing, my son!"

So we have to do what we have done in the past...
Try to educate and instill the proper amount of respect he needs to have for the bike-riding experience.
He has always listened well and put our advice to good use. I see no reason he won't do that again.
And now I'm lookin' forward to our next trip to Arizona...
I hear there are some wonderful roads to ride East of "Apache Junction"!

Easy To Assemble. No Tools Required!

We've been sleeping on a Queen-size, soft-side, fully baffled waterbed for 22 years. With one exception we love the thing-
My wife sleeps as a "runner". At 5'10" she's mostly legs, and she lays claim to about 80% of the bed when she's sleeping. Put both of us in a Queen-size space, add two dogs (that want to lay right on top of me), and you've got a cramped situation.
I don't complain...
I only need about a foot WAY OVER HERE on my side of the bed. But if she happens to touch me or the dogs when she is "sprinting" , she's not a happy snoozer.

For several years now she's been begging for a King-size bed. A couple months ago QVC had a special on "Select Comfort" air beds. We chatted, then agreed a new bed would be a nice Christmas gift we could give one another. So we pulled the trigger.
And that meant doing a "musical chairs" routine with our bedrooms. The bed in our guest room was a full-size... much too small for our 6'3" offspring to sleep on, requiring us to inflate a portable air mattress for him during his visits. So the plan unfolded:
Sell the antique bed in the guest room.
Drain and move the waterbed to that bedroom.
Build the new "Sleep Number" bed in the Master BR.

Our UPS driver Tim delivered seven big boxes about a month ago.
Three weeks ago we finally sold the bed in the guest room.
Draining, disassembling, the re-assembling that bed downstairs took the better part of two days.
Then my work-shift week started. We inflated the portable air mattress normally used by our son and slept on the floor of our bedroom for a week.

Two days ago I started unpacking (BIG!) boxes. (And what a shame there isn't an easy, good use for all that wonderful cardboard.)
No tools required... EASY to assemble!
Yeah... right.

There was an assembly manual, AND an "easy to follow" DVD. Problem was, they didn't agree on how to build the bed. Tired and frustrated the first night, I finally quit when I couldn't make the foundation pieces fit the way the DVD said they should, figuring I might better understand with a rested mind.
Sure enough, the next day I did a little experimenting and sorted that problem out, only to be once again stymied by missing pieces to the puzzle. The DVD indicated four plastic "corner pieces" should be installed to hold foam inserts in place at the side, head, and foot of the bed.
Go outside and search through all the discarded cardboard...
Those pieces were nowhere to be found.
Find the "800" number for help...
Dial it...
"We're sorry, but there is no one here to answer your call. Please call back during normal business hours. Your call is important to us!"
ARRRRRGHHHHHH!

RTDM... read the damn manual...
There I find, those pieces ARE NOT necessary with our particular bed.
The rest of the assembly goes without a hitch.
We slept off the floor last night on a bed that looks the size of a tennis court.
My "runner" would have to sprint the 100-yard dash to touch me.
The dogs and I slept undisturbed on my 1 foot piece of territory at the edge.

It's a great bed.
I'm calling "Select Comfort" today with suggestions on how to improve the instructions so that when you buy yours you won't consider committing suicide as I did.

That Unlocked Door

Now more than fifty years later I cannot tell you how old she was, but she was old and infirm. A walker parked next to her chair, she was able to get up and slowly make her way to the bathroom if necessary.

The house was tiny...
Two bedrooms, barely big enough for full-size beds. A bathroom, living room, and kitchen.
The interior was austere...
Nothing on the walls. Two old rocker/recliners in the living room with a floor lamp between them. The chairs faced a small television, (black and white of course), and "The Secret Storm" was always on when I entered. No knock at the door was necessary... she expected me.
I was her newsboy, and I'm sure that on many days I was her only contact with a real human being.
She wanted to talk. I knew she needed to talk.
Her daughter paid me to deliver "The Indianapolis News" to the old woman. I'm sure she paid me not for the newspaper, but to walk through that unlocked door and insure her Mother was still alive, then spend a few moments in conversation with her.
She didn't have much, but when she had something to share she wanted me to partake-
"There are fresh radishes in the refrigerator. Do you like radishes?"
Not really.
But I ate a couple and acted as if they were delicious, then thanked her for her generosity.

She was still alive when I handed the paper route over to my replacement.
I made sure he knew to walk through that door, put the newspaper on her lap, and brighten her day for a few minutes with chat about what was happening outside her unlocked door.

Looking back, I now realize I learned most of what I needed to know about life from being a newsboy.
I've even learned to tolerate radishes.

Better Than A Dirty Diaper!

I am not a big Newt fan. There are things about him that trouble me A LOT. As others have pointed out he comes with his own set of "baggage". His recent immigration comments make me cringe. But I have also said many times recently, a feces-filled baby's diaper could do a better job as POTUS than the present golfer in the White House. And if that's my only choice versus Obama, the soiled diaper will get my vote.

Viewing this video will consume less than ten minutes of your life.
Watch it.
Then, in the comments, tell me if it doesn't give you hope for the future of our beloved country.

Face- Updated

I'm a sucker for a beautiful face.
This one stunned me.
No, it's not a young Bo Derek.
You may know her if you're into historical trivia.
Hers is a fascinating story! (WWII Germany)

Know her?

24November Update-
Both "The History Channel" and "The Military Channel" have had a lot of programming devoted to Nazi Germany and the steps leading to World War II lately. Regular readers know I see many comparisons with that era and what is going on in the U.S.A. right now. (In his comment to the post just below this one, Ed Bonderenka points out that the Nazi party started out as community organizers. Start the spooky music now!)

One of the programs I watched was devoted to the fact that many Nazi leaders (certainly including Hitler) were interested in the occult, and thought ancient civilizations could not have accomplished their great works without the aid of "other world" beings. We've seen some of this interest portrayed in movies like "Raiders of The Lost Ark".

The face above belongs to a gal named Maria Orsic (or Orsitsch). She was a member of a post-WWI group called "The Vril Society". They wanted to know how the ancients, in their buildings and art, could accomplish things impossible (or nearly impossible) to accomplish today.
I think we still have much to learn from history. I think we are a LONG way from having all the answers. If you agree, click the links and read some more about the Vril, and the beautiful gal who mysteriously disappeared from the face of the earth in 1943.

Hitler?

I'm watching a program on the military channel illuminating Adolf Hitler's life just prior to and during World War II. There is a saying out there that the first person to bring up Adolf Hitler in a political conversation is the loser.
So I guess I'm a loser here. But there are many interesting comparisons going on right now for those with eyes that see and ears that hear. And while I was watching the program this morning, this one struck me-

Hitler had signed a "non-agression" treaty with Russia. When it became politically expedient to forget his promises, Hitler ignored that treaty and invaded Russia. All went well until Winter time when Germany's offense was stifled more by the weather than the Russian defense. Russian soldiers, knowing what the weather could bring, were FAR better prepared to deal with Mother Nature than their German counterparts. Hitler's top military advisers suggested a retreat... with the hope of "living to fight another day" against troops that obviously were better prepared to fight in those conditions.
Hitler, ego bigger than the superdome, ignored his advisers and issued a statement saying something to the effect that German soldiers, being German, were better than Russian soldiers and should hold their ground until Spring when they could once again wipe the floor with the ignorant Russians.
And we history buffs know how that turned out.

It's an interesting study...
An egomaniac doesn't want to admit he might be wrong so he blames his failures on others, in spite of the fact those others, (who were smarter than he on these matters), tried to save his bacon by giving him VERY good advice which he ignored.

In the White House now we have a guy with a pretty big ego.
In spite of having done pretty much nothing of note since being born half-white, he's been surrounded by sycophants all his life telling him how "cool" he is...
How smart he is...
What a wonderful speaker he is...
And our President(?) is convinced of his own greatness, not smart enough to listen to that adviser whispering in his ear.

Now we find the reason our economy is failing is because we are lazy.
Yeah, it's not his fault. And his advisors are just stupid.

Is it too late?
Who is smart enough to listen to the whisperer?
I fear we are not.
So to those of you with ears that hear-
Be prepared.
Listen to the whisper...
There is almost nothing to lose by preparing, but there is MUCH to lose by ignoring the many signals.

Retire? I'll Miss The Good Outcomes. I Won't Miss The Injured Kids.

I walk a tightrope here much of the time.
I'm frequently involved in stuff that makes the news...
"So-and-so was involved in a head on collision last night and was taken by helicopter to such and such medical center where he remains in critical but stable condition."
And if I give you too many details about the case, I might find myself talking to a lawyer.
But my job involves real drama much of the time. And that's particularly true when young-un's are involved.

Last night was one of those nights. At some point in the future I hope to tell you about it. But for now, let me relate a story about a similar case that happened long ago enough I likely won't get my butt in trouble telling you-

We were called to the scene. Paramedics were there and knew this was one of those situations where "seconds count". The patient was a four year old boy. He had gone out into the family's garage and against one wall was his Dad's tool chest that looked somewhat like this:



There was something at the top of that chest this boy wanted. So he pulled the lower drawers out and used them as steps to reach the top. His weight, combined with the weight of the tools in the box, toppled it over, crushing him beneath it.
My crew quickly did what was necessary...
Established a secure airway.
Started an IV.
We loaded and transported him the short distance to the Children's hospital.
There, they immediately took him to the operating room where they found he had a badly torn aorta and other internal injuries.
He died.

My kid last night was not so terribly injured, and it's my hope he'll have a much better outcome.
And I hope his parents don't beat themselves up with guilt.

Rick Perry- ALMOST, (Not Quite) This Confused !

Motorcycle Road Racing

March of 1971-
I had just bought my new 500cc Kawasaki, so it was just natural I'd be rooting for Kaw riders. Daytona was just five or so hours away and I had never been to "Bike Week". I mounted my new bike and headed South out of Savannah on I-95.

If you like motorcycles, Daytona Bike Week is nearly heaven. I've never been to Sturgis so I cannot compare the two, but my image of Sturgis is that it is mostly a Harley-Davidson event.
Daytona is different. Sure, there are plenty of Harleys there but that Saturday night, standing on a street corner oogling the bikes as they stopped at the traffic signal, I saw just about every motorcycle made to be ridden on the street, including the one and only Munch Mammoth I have ever seen in person... one of the first motorcycles ever built with an engine designed for an automobile.

Sunday morning dawned and the weather was perfect. I got to the track early and was amazed at what I saw...
The speed of the bikes was just unbelievable. They were hitting almost 200 m.p.h. on the banked part of the track, then they had to brake heavily to slow and enter the twisty infield portion of the course. (Just a few years after my visit the bikes had gotten so fast that tires could not be made to withstand the forces put on them, so a chicane was installed in the middle of the backstretch to slow the bikes down.)

Other Kaw riders I had talked to were buzzing about this rookie-expert Kawasaki rider- Rusty Bradley. He was fast. He had a good ride. He was someone I needed to watch.
Most of the Kawasakis were painted Lime Green. I picked him out... number 64.

There were so many bikes competing in the race they started them in two waves...
The fastest group of about twenty roared off, then a few seconds later the second group followed. I watched in awe as Rusty passed several machines on the back side of the track, then came down the front straight where he'd need to clamp on the binders in order to make the left turn into the infield.
I still don't know for sure what happened.
He fell.
Right in front of me.
Still traveling at about 150 m.p.h.
It was horrible. He log-rolled, over and over and over. His arm would flail out until the weight of his body would bear down on it and it would fold under him just as the other arm would get free and would flail out.
It seemed he rolled forever before coming to a stop. Then he laid there lifeless. To the guy
I had befriended in the seat next to mine I said, "He's dead".

They waited until the end of the race to announce what I already knew...
Rusty was gone.

To me, motorcycle road racing is the most beautiful, dangerous sport in the world. Unlike car racing, the riders are exposed so you can see how they manipulate their machines to make them do what they have to do...
Hang their butts off the machine to the left or right to lower the center of gravity so the bikes can reach a lean angle (and at a speed) that just seems impossible. On the straights, they tuck down behind the windshield making themselves as small as they can in order to reduce drag. Then approaching a turn they sit upright to catch the wind on their chest to provide an aerodynamic assist to the brakes.
It's a gorgeous ballet.

Two weeks ago, the same weekend Dan Wheldon was killed at Las Vegas, a young man named Marco Simoncelli fell during the Moto GP race in Sepang, Malaysia and was struck by two other riders. He had terrible head, neck, and other injuries and did not survive.
The video of the accident is hard to watch.
It took me back to 1971 and made me think of Rusty.

Motorcycle road racing is a beautiful thing to watch.
And I cannot deny it...
Part of my fascination with it is because it is SO dangerous.
And, like so many things in life, those who live "out on the edge" sometimes pay the heavy toll.

But they come back the next week, suit up in their protective gear, and go try to extend the envelope once again.

And I'll be watching and enjoying, knowing how hard it is to do what they make look so easy.

Making Do

Use it up. Wear it out.
This economy is forcing a lot more people into this mode of thinking, isn't it? One of the things I will proudly tell others is, "That butt you see hanging outside the dumpster is probably mine!" I NEVER go to a dumpster without checking to see what perfectly usable item others have thrown away. (And wonder, why didn't they consider giving it to the Salvation Army or Goodwill?)

But this attitude can result in the kind of trouble we face right now...
The lowest mileage automobile we own now has 152,000 miles on it. Last week Sara Jean had just left home when she came back through the door...
"The steering is locked up on the car!" She had driven about half a block, then parked the car alongside the road. We walked back to the car and I jumped behind the wheel, started it, and experienced something I'd never had happen before-
From the neutral point, (driving straight ahead), to the right steering lock, everything worked fine. Moving the steering wheel from the right lock to the neutral point... fine.
But from the neutral point to the left steering lock, it was like there was no power assist at all. (And obviously, to the weaker sex that felt like the steering was locked up.)

I drove the car the short distance back home and SJ grabbed the keys to our second car, (238,000 miles) and headed off to work.
Our mechanic says the rack and pinion has failed on the newer car and the repair will be $700+.
Ouch.
So we're keeping our fingers crossed the older car will continue to motivate until the new car is repaired.

Buying most any new car would entail taking on the payment for the car loan... probably somewhere in the vicinity of $5- $800 per month. The cheap voice in me shouts that so long as the cars we drive are safe and are not costing us anything close to what a new car payment would be, we should just continue to drive our perfectly nice driving older cars. But just over the horizon we can see the time coming when our high-mileage cars will no longer be "nice driving" OR "safe". Were it just me, I'd just drive 'em 'til the wheels fall off and take out some roadside billboard. But I'm not willing to take that risk with my bride.

Got a better formula for when to trade?
Share it, please.

On Two Wheels, Part 3- Ride As If It's Yours

Drool.
In my "pre-legal" driving days as a teen I wore out certain pages of the Sears catalog...
If you are "of a certain age" like me, you'll remember the "Good/Better/Best" way Sears displayed some of their more expensive items. I wore out the motor scooter/motorcycle pages in those catalogs. Under motorcycles, "Good" was a Puch 150cc machine, "Better" was a Puch 175, and "Best" was a Puch 250. (If you're interested, there's a decent pic of the Austrian-made Sears/Puch 250 pictured here.) I'm actually glad I wasn't able to afford one of 'em because I've since learned they had a strange engine that used a system of two pistons sharing one combustion chamber. That, along with the inherent inefficiencies of two-cycle engines, made the Puchs terrible gas hogs.
I ended up buying the Aermacchi/Harley 250cc Sprint we discussed earlier.
I wanted a bigger bike, but my budget precluded me from buying one. And there was another reason I never bought a larger displacement motorcycle.

I've written before about my love for the Harley Davidson Sportster:




















I love the Sportster because next to my little Sprint, I probably rode more miles on one than any other motorcycle while I was in High School.
How is that possible?
It REALLY pays to have a wealthy, generous friend! One of my best friends owned two Sportsters while we were in H.S....
An early "H" model, which was probably of 1957 or '58 vintage, which he traded on a "CH" model similar to the one shown above about the time we became Seniors.
I was able to frequently borrow both bikes and ride them almost as if they were my own.

When I came home on leave after Flight School and before departing for Viet Nam I found my friend had bought a new toy...
Another machine for which, as an early teen, I had saliva stained sales brochures:

He flipped me the keys to the Bonnie and told me to bring it back when I had to go back to playing soldier. I rode and loved that Triumph for 30 days.

I have some GREAT memories thanks to my wealthy friend.
And with friends like that, it's pretty easy to feel rich yourself.

The Root of Our Problems-

Boston.
Kennebunkport.
New York City.

Democrats from that corner of our Nation, and those calling themselves "moderate" Republicans, have joined to royally screw up our economy.
"Fool me once"...
Have we learned anything here?

Remind me...
Where is Mitt Romney from? And what is his track record on this HORRENDOUS health care reform bill?