Unobtainium

I hate it, hate it, hate it when I see something I like, then find it WON'T BE SOLD IN THE U.S.!
(Kawasaki's new W800.)

Dead State Walking

California is toast.

The Governor now knows it and is sending out "hints", but J.Q. Public 
STILL  ain't payin' attention.

California is Greece, and the folks in Greece started pounding on the doors of their banks yesterday.
Their banks can't help 'em.

The E.U. WON'T help 'em.

From here on out, Europe will be interesting to watch.

When they realize the severity of their problem, folks in California will expect the rest of us to bail them out...

"Too big to fail !", ya know.

But it won't happen.

Their problems are too big to deal with.

I'm talking here to those of you who don't think I'm a Grade A kook...

Go here and read the words of a guy that knows economics FAR better than most of us.

Then act accordingly.

California is toast.
Illinois is in the toaster, cookin'.

We're all gonna suffer.
But the good Scouts among us will survive.

" I wrote to SU Carburettors asking if they had any pictures of Tilly's Orifice, and explained it was because my Beaver was running badly. "

Fascinating. I just happened upon this blog and will be spending some time reviewing old posts there!

Old Machines- The Good, and Ugly.

 "They paid five figures for it."

 I've been watching eBay for one just like it. Kawasaki triples there are either too ratty, or,  like this one they are prohibitively $$,$$$. But somewhere from the far recesses of my skull I hear the shout, "You paid a little over a grand for yours when you bought it new in 1972!" 

She hates most of the shows, (except for "American Chopper, Senior vs. Junior"), so I mostly watch 'em when Sara Jean's out. But I am in awe of guys on those shows who can walk over to some expensive machine with a chunk of metal and fabricate, seemingly out of thin air, an exhaust system or a set of handlebars. Those guys would have no fear whatsoever of buying a "project" bike like the worn out old Kawasakis I could actually afford on eBay. Then they'd just start slowly-but-surely waking the thing from the dead and after weeks/months/years of work have a bike they could sell for "five figures" upon completion. 

But still, is it worth the total cost? When they're finished, they still have an old bike with old technology, and the "sweat equity" they'd expended is almost incalculable. Seems to me it's better to just watch/read and enjoy the shows and magazine articles about these craftsmen and the machines they complete, almost certainly selling them to some collector who hopes to sell them to a "greater fool" at some point in the future.

I had a revelation of my own this week. Winds were a little gusty when I left work on my '89 GoldWing Saturday morning, but temperatures have been comfortable behind the 'Wing's big windshield. The sun was shining, I had the two-lane State highway all to myself, and life was great.
I felt it more than heard it...
It was just sort of a "whuff"...
Not a big deal, but enough of a sensation that I actually ducked a little, then wondered what had happened. The bike didn't stutter so I slowed but didn't stop, assessing the situation. There was no "drama".
The six-cylinder engine continued to hum like a sewing machine. After thinking about it a few seconds I attributed the phenomenon to my helmet visor...
Behind the windshield on the GoldWing I ride with my visor up and I figured a gust of wind had made it move slightly with a resulting noise in my helmet.
At home I grabbed my stuff out of the trunk, then went into the house and opened the garage door to put the bike under roof. It was then I noticed I could see the battery, the reservoir for the rear disc brake, and other mechanical stuff on the right side of the bike. All that stuff is normally hidden by a big plastic side-cover with a fancy Gold "GoldWing GL1500" piece of trim on it.
Gone.
My mind raced, trying to remember exactly where I had the "whuff" sensation so I could find the cover on my next trip. I could remember I was on a straight stretch, so I started thinking about where to search on my next trip home.
But what if I couldn't find it? This bike is now 23 years old and I'm sure Honda no longer supplies the part. That means I'd have to find it used, either on eBay or through some motorcycle salvage company and there was the possibility it wouldn't even be available there, meaning I might be riding around with my battery exposed until I could finally find a replacement cover.
What if I found my cover and it was damaged? Then I'd either have to repair or replace it.
That night, just to get an idea what I might be in for, I searched eBay for the part.
I found this cover priced at $230, but to make it look right I'd have to also find the gold "GL 1500" trim piece and add it myself.
$230!
It took my breath away.

Sunday morning again dawned sunny and mild. I reached the point where I thought the cover might have come off, slowed the bike to a near walking speed, turned my emergency flashers on, and started searching for the wayward cover. This road runs through farmland. In some spots, the farmers have trimmed the brush back ten or so feet from the roadway. In others the brush is three feet tall and thick. If it came off and flew into that brush, the only way I'd see it is if I was walking along the road. It was then I made up my mind if I didn't find it I would do just that... Walk this 8-mile stretch of road and find that expensive piece of plastic. I reached the end of the road where my "mind's eye" felt it had come off... No luck. My shoulders dropped an inch or so, I turned off the emergency flashers and accelerated toward home. Six minutes later I glance down and there it was... Just a few inches off the pavement in the foot or so of gravel before the brush starts, at least two miles from where I thought it had departed. I jam on the brakes and turn around... It appears undamaged. Amazing.

At home, further inspection of the adventuresome side cover reveals one of the fingers that goes through a grommet on the bike is broken off.
This is something that surprises me about Honda... it's really a poor piece of engineering. Vibration causes the fingers to wear. The grommets also wear. The resulting looseness almost guarantees these covers will get loose and depart the motorcycle.

I went out to the bike and found the broken finger still lodged in the grommet. So I can repair it myself, but I have to try to figure a way to keep this from happening again.

But I've dodged a bullet this time.
And learned a lesson...
Old bikes are neat, but the simple ones like the old BMWs, Triumphs, and yes... Harleys don't have so many fancy gee-gaws to fall off and cause you heartache.
I'll remember that from now on.

A Shared(?) Language

At work, I share the helicopter with a guy who talks funny.
He was born in Bristol, England, then spent some time gallivanting around the world...
South Africa, Botswana, Rhodesia (when there still was such a thing.)

He mutters.
Coupled with the fact his accent makes him difficult to understand, his utterances are sometimes unintelligible. (Sara Jean thinks he does this on purpose to draw attention to himself.)
I understand him better than most because I've gotten accustomed to his cadence, and I have learned the meaning of many of the words:
Lorry. Torch. Lift. Zed. Bonnet/Boot. Petrol. And what's this "Aluminium" thingy?
Still, there ARE times when I have to scold him...
"Say that again in American, please!"
(He's lived/trained/worked here for almost thirty years for heaven's sake!)

He brings tabloids and magazines to work with him and I enjoy flipping through them to compare our two cultures. In context, many of the words and phrases can be added to my list of usable, shared terms.
Today I sorted out a couple more of 'em and can share them with you:
BODGED, as in "It was bodged together from two separate machines."
And SPANNER... "Be careful when trying to decide if you want to spanner your own vintage motorcycle."

If, before I go completely deaf, I can get the man to speak in a normal tone of voice, we may begin truly communicating just about the time I retire.

Your Love Keeps Lifting Me...

I LOVE this tune.
But no one compares to Jackie.

Check his version out when you've finished hearing this stage-full of talent do it.

Motorized Unicycle

Crank the throttle in first and second gear and the sucker would hike its front wheel toward the stars:

Why I'm A "Paranoid Right-Winger"- Bumped.

I'm bumping this post to the top because of a comment I find incredulous. Read the comments and see if the top of your head blows off as mine did.
(Are our founding documents only important to military Veterans these days?)

The Constitution?
That SILLY, OBSOLETE OLD THING?

Europe Watch

France has elected a Socialist leader.
Apparently the french have decided work is too much of a hassle...
Don't worry, be happy.
This is going to be SO entertaining, but cannot end well.
It's time to turn our eyes to the East and watch...
Greece.
Spain.
Italy.
France.
How long will Germany support the "bums"?
And for me the big question is, will our own Socialists be able to put 2 and 2 together?
(With a degree in Liberal Arts, Math is mighty difficult for most of 'em.)

We apparently don't have the discipline to do "austerity" here either.
So watch France... see our future.

Strength Comes In Many Forms

She was dying of Cancer.
My friend the Paramedic was watching his Mother slowly, painfully, slip away.
She said, "I need some more pain medicine".
He said, "Mom, if I give you more it will stop your heart".
She was so exhausted she didn't verbally respond, but gave him a "look".
He gave her the morphine and watched her peacefully slip away.

I don't know that I would have that kind of strength.
Would you?

Parking Wars- Updated

It was irritating... mighty irritating.
We lived in an apartment complex. There were enough parking spaces for everyone, and most could park close to their door. You could park with no one close if you didn't mind walking half a block or so.

The guy raising my ire had a beautiful new truck with a complex, custom paint job similar to the one above. (His truck had normal suspension.) When we came home his truck was parked diagonally across two spaces, right in front our our apartment. I took pen and paper in hand and wrote what I considered a reasonable note-
"You have a beautiful truck. If you feel the need to protect it, instead of inconveniencing others, please park out in the 'Back-forty'."
At 5 A.M. we heard an engine start, then REV-REV-REV-REV followed by a long blast of the horn before the vehicle drove away. Apparently he didn't think my request was reasonable.

The next night it happened again.
With pen and paper I escalated.
Once again we got the 5 A.M. "treatment".
But the truck never returned.

What would you have done?
Can you guess what I wrote that may have convinced the guy to park his truck elsewhere?
I'll update later.

Update-
I wrote, "It sure would be a shame if someone got angry enough to pour a can of paint remover across that gorgeous hood!"
I would never have done it, but he'd spent enough on that paint job he couldn't take that chance.

Almost A Motorcycle

Trikes.
THREE WHEELS.
Some, like the one in the pic, have two wheels in front, one in back.
Others, like the ONLY trike I've ever ridden, have one 'way out front and two in the rear.
That machine belonged to one of my former students. He drove up for a lesson with it and I was immediately knocked out...
It was a BIG V-8 with an automatic tranny... had obviously been a front-wheel drive system before becoming a trike.
"Guess what it is and I'll let you drive it", he said. The valve covers told me nothin'...
"Well, it's either a Cadillac Eldorado or an Oldsmobile Toronado engine, but I can't tell which."
"Close enough" he says. "It's a 455 Olds."
Four-Hundred Fifty-Five cubic inches powering a machine that probably weighed less than 1500 pounds! He gave me the keys, then jumped on my Yamaha XS1100 to give chase. That trike was so powerful, to change lanes on the Interstate all you had to do was twist the throttle hard...
The front tire would leave the pavement and torque would move the bike one lane to the right, (controllably!)
It was a neat thing... everyone on the road pointed and waved.
It got 15 m.p.g., and since the seat back was attached to the radiator it wasn't comfortable to ride it long distances, even if you COULD afford the gas bill.

The trike in the photo above is a "Can-Am Spyder".
It's a neat concept. There's a dealer about 30 minutes away from us doing a pretty decent job of sellin' 'em.
It's obviously NOT a motorcycle.
I have a question I'd really like answered-
They get about 23 miles per gallon of fuel and take up almost as much room as a car...
Other than the fact that it's different, or unless you have some disability preventing you from riding two-wheels, why would anyone buy one?
Why not just buy a motorcycle with a sidecar rig?

On the other hand, if someone comes out with something like this I'll REALLY be interested!

We're Getting There Fast... Where Are We Going?

Beautiful...
This fly-by was seen, maybe by millions.
I wonder if those onlookers thought about what it truly means?

We used to lead.
What other country has set foot on the moon?
Now, to get into space we have to thumb a ride with folks who don't even like us.

I grew up in an era of true "Hope and Change".
Our kids now can't even find a job and are "thumbing a ride" from others just to put food in their bellies.

Looking forward to retirement, this is NOT the world I expected to live in.
And the scariest thing?
I don't see a leader out there willing to stop this runaway train.

Be prepared.

Hallelujah!

Friend Cary guided me to this video and now, unfortunately, he cannot hear it himself. 
It's REALLY GOOD Cary. 
Hope you can enjoy it soon!

Like A Death In The Family-Updated

This is a piece of my life I haven't fully shared.
And this "piece" has been such a big chunk of our lives, it's felt odd not blogging on the subject.
Thirteen years ago, friends gave us a week in their condo here in Destin, Florida. Destin was a different place then... the condo was way out on the East end of town, and when the sun went down things got really quiet. We arrived in the wee hours, went out on the balcony with adult beverages, and all we could hear was the sound of small waves lapping against the shore... darkness prevented us from seeing the beach/water. When we awoke the next morning we were gobsmacked...
Sugar-white sand. Emerald green water. And all of it literally just across old highway 98 from us!
We stayed four days and considered the information our benefactors had shared with us about condo ownership. At the end of our stay I went to the on-site manager and, thinking it would be YEARS before we'd need to act told her we'd be interested in owning property in the complex should a unit become available. Two months later she called-
"The unit next to the one you stayed in is for sale. We need some new, younger blood down here. I'll help you as much as I can with the purchase."


We were unprepared for that sort of financial outlay at that point. I crunched the numbers East and West, Up and Down, and there simply was no way we could afford the place without it becoming a financial strain on our lives. We called the folks who kindly shared their condo with us and told them about the availability of this unit, just in case they were interested.
Their response was, "Would you consider owning HALF of it?"
And that comment put me right in the middle of my financial comfort zone.


The unit was a disaster. With partners and several friends we worked a solid week from dawn until dusk painting, wallpapering, more painting, buying furniture, buying and installing appliances, buying all the little things that make a house a home so the unit could be added to the rental program at this complex.
The finished product, (mostly under the direction of Sara Jean), was a showplace. It has been our now-and-again home on the beach for twelve years now.


But from the outset there was friction.
We are, shall we say, strong-willed. From the start, the partnership came under considerable strain. For twelve years we have juggled and danced, trying to keep things civil. And then I announced I'd be retiring and that we intended to spend the Winter in "our" condo.
Straw. Camel.
You know the rest.


I'm looking at a dozen factors that indicate I don't want to be a full-owner of this property in Florida right now. Apparently our partners feel the same way. We listed the property last week, and had a firm offer for it in two days. We drove down Wednesday to empty out "Owner's closets".


It's a "homey" place. There are twelve years of memories attached to EVERY SINGLE THING about this place, from the color of the paint to the elbow grease I applied to fix the drier vent when it got clogged. We've felt like we're attending the visitation for a dead loved one for three days now.
I am NOT looking forward to shutting the door, putting the key in the ignition, and driving away!


BUT...
I now have a "capital gain" to deal with, and in my vision of what is happening in the world, that's a welcome tool. The only question is, what's the best way to protect ourselves from the coming Civil War?
And if you think the idea of a Civil War is crazy, you're not watching the same news programs as me.

Update-
The deal fell apart and the property is back on the market.
What an emotional rollercoaster.

The Business "List"

Newly added: Bank of America
My original "List" was devoted to the entertanment industry. Folks trying to force their political views on us when we're paying to be entertained, not harangued, need to know we'd like them to "shut up and sing".

But the hypocrisy is finally making my head feel like it's gonna burst.
It's okay to use metaphors to make your point, unless you're Sarah Palin.
Bill Maher can be vile and despicable, but Rush Limbaugh needs to be fired.
It's time we take a stand.
It's time for a new list... a list of businesses we need to boycott to show our displeasure.

This post, like my original "The List", will be periodically updated. New names will be added and, if possible, subtracted, as businesses see the light and change their path.

Hereupon I'll list business I know to be anti-U.S., or at least strong supporters of the "Socialist" way. As before, please feel free to share experiences you may have or news you hear about businesses conservatives need to avoid rewarding.
Here's my "Business List". Spend your dollars elsewhere:
AARP
Arby's
Bank of America
Citgo
Coca Cola
GE, and all it's subsidiaries
Home Depot
Men's Wearhouse
Pepsi Cola
Progressive Insurance
Time Magazine

A Tough Week

Yeah, I know...
One of my old friends wrote to make sure nothing was wrong.
(Thank you SMS!)

This week has been a stressful one.
Six days ago while I was working my night shift, Sara Jean was "Grandma-sitting" for a friend at their home. She had both dogs with her, had gotten up in the morning and gone to the bathroom prior to taking the dogs out to tend to their business. She heard a heavy "thump", and when she went to investigate she found Desi the mini-dachshund sitting on the floor with his rear legs splayed out at an odd angle. She gathered him up and brought him home, and when I walked in the door she said, "There's something wrong with Desi" and told me what had happened.
I checked him out and said, "This is REALLY not good." She took him to the Vet and he, unfortunately, didn't want to give us the terrible truth...
"He may have just pinched the nerves in his back. He may improve."
She came home with pain medicine to give him and for two days we watched him suffer and slowly deteriorate.
I came to the decision before she did and, before I went to work 18 hours after the incident, suggested we should take him and alleviate his pain permanently. SJ still had hope...
Didn't want to bring herself to that realization. But at 11 P.M. she called me frantic and in tears-
"You were right! He's suffering and I can't help him!"
I got home as early as possible the next morning and we met the Vet as he opened his door for business. In less than 10 minutes, Desi was no longer in pain.
SJ went to work. Lucy and I buried him back near the pond with the rest of our departed pets.

We bring dogs, cats, and most of our pets into our lives knowing they'll live ten to twenty years, depending on breed and other factors. So we know from the outset that at some point we're likely to be in tears, grieving and missing them.
But to lose this little guy, only 7 years old and apparently healthy, just because he's a dachshund and that breed has problems with those short legs and long back? The situation took the wind out of my sail for days. (I'm crying again as I write this.)

Thank God for Lucy. I don't know what we'd do if we didn't have her to greet us ecstatically as we open the door.
She LOVED her Desi. We figured she'd mourn him for days. But she investigated his body when I laid it in the shallow grave and watched as I covered him with earth.
She has adjusted.
I wish I could say the same for Desi's humans.
Time heals. We're getting better.
And I have learned one lesson...
I'll never own another dachshund.

Mom was admitted to the hospital this week with respiratory trouble.
He heart is weak. They watched her for two days, then released her to my (nurse) Sister's care. Thank you Sis!
Mom's slowly getting better.

For various reasons, I choose not to share everything that is happening in my life with you.
Part of that is because I don't want to bore you. Part of it is because I don't want you to know ALL the little details of my life. But there is another transaction going on in my (our) lives that is also providing a little stress for SJ and me.
It's mostly a good thing, but will also require some adjustment in both our lives. No big deal.
But it's just another thing added to the rest that makes me glad we can see "No news is good news" on the horizon.

I also know things could be much, MUCH worse.
Thank you Lord for not giving us more than we can handle.

Kenny Roberts and the Indy Mile

This incident is the stuff of folklore among those of us that follow flat-track racing.
In 1975, "King Kenny" Roberts rode an evil-handling, ungodly fast two-stroke 750cc Yamaha to a win at the Indy mile.
The video tells the tale:

If He's Re-elected, We'll Be Shooting At One Another.

Approach Quietly. Depart With A Bang.