Lending and Borrowing

You know that old Shakespeare saying, "Neither a borrower nor a lender be" that's been around for centuries? People could learn from that. I should not lend, and irresponsible idiots should not borrow.

I have a folding chair that I keep at work to take my daily nap in. It's not your average folding chair--It's got a unique angle to it that allows you to recline back in a very comfortable position. It originally had a footrest that was attached as well, but that wore out and I tossed it. It's an Eddie Bauer chair, and most likely not replaceable.

Except now I need to replace it.

According to him, when he got out of it to go to the cooler, the wind blew it into the campfire and burned half of it up. I don't buy it. As a matter of fact, if I do find a replacement for it, I doubt if he will either. Some people have no respect for others' property. That pissed me off ALL day yesterday at work. It was one of the few years that my birthday falls on a work day, and I chose not to even mention it all day long. I just stewed. Then to add to it, quitting time comes and goes and I have to stay and work another two hours. At least I had the Harley to ride home.

I stopped at Cave Man Kitchen on the way home and bought myself a BBQ chicken sandwich for dinner. Right as I got off my Harley, my brother cruised up on his, bringing me a birthday card. Chris next door came over too and we stood around swapping bike stories and stuff for a while. When he left I went inside and ate my now cold chicken sandwich. I noted with a sigh that they just weren't as good as they used to be. There isn't as much in the middle as there used to be. About that time, Teresa called and asked me if I was home, saying that they wanted to come over before my parents did (everybody wants to avoid my dad these days). She added that Sarah had some things she needed to print and their printer wasn't working right.

They came over and were here for a short while when someone tapped on the garage door. "Oh jeez," Teresa says, "they're here." Nope, it was my sister Denise and her husband Mike and son Jesse. They were a welcome surprise, and they brought me a 12-pack of Corona and some limes. We three guys were all out in the garage when my parents drove up. My dad was in a surly mood (when is he not?) of course. They gave me some canned nuts and a chisel for my birthday. It was the kind of chisel with the built-on hand protector thing on it so you won't smash your hand with a hammer if you miss the chisel. I was trying it out on a piece of wood and my dad lit into me, telling me that's not how you do it, etc, etc. I went into the house and asked my mom, "What's wrong with that asshole anyway?" She said he had been that way all day. "Just don't talk to him." she suggested. I told her he was in serious need of some medication. I left all the ladies nodding their heads in agreement and went back out to the garage. It was only a few minutes later that he poked his head into the house and hollered at her, "You about ready?" What a dick. I like to spend time with mom, and so does everyone else

If she ends up dying before he does, I'm moving. Fuck him... Relative or not, he's totally alien to me.

Happy Birthday to Me

And my present to myself? Riding my Harley to work today!

Yes, after what seems like forever, my Harley is finally back on the road. The final thing I did on it that was part of the facelift project was attaching my new gas tank logos. I had to take my time and do some careful measuring and contour bending to get them to fit correctly. In the end, they came out just fine. It was basically done on Sunday, but I needed to tweak a few adjustments before I was ready to ride it (such as charging the dying battery). Here's a quick shot of what it looks like now:


I took it out on the road for about an hour yesterday, stopping once at Greg's house to check out a couple of light bulbs he was going to give me. After getting home, I checked the bike out completely, finding nothing missing, nothing loose, and nothing wrong. To celebrate, I grilled myself a nice, juicy steak for dinner last night.

I had another great grilled meal the night before. I found a great recipe for a shrimp marinade, and made up a bunch of shrimp skewers. They marinaded for 3 or 4 hours and I invited Sarah and Teresa over to help me eat em. Big thumbs up from everyone on that recipe. Pretty labor-intensive though... What with the making of the marinade and the cleaning of the shrimp. It was worth it.

Well, it looks like it's going to be a hot one around here today... Mid to upper 80's. Good day for bike riding to work. Too bad I'm expecting to have to work mandatory overtime... Oh well.

Weekend Stuff

It was an interesting day yesterday. I spent most of my morning nude as usual, doing housecleaning and other mundane stuff.

Greg came over at about 11:30 so we went out to the garage so I could play "show & tell" with the Harley facelift project. He hadn't seen it since I tore it completely apart a few months ago.

We were sitting out there enjoying our beers and talking about stuff, when all of a sudden, BANG! I'm talking loud too. A small, white delivery truck had stopped and was just starting to turn into the street before backing into a driveway, when a beat up old Dodge van FLEW by and smacked him in his left front side. All this happened right in front of my unit and we had front row seats. The guy was going so fast when he hit that he blew parts and debris for about 40 or 50 feet down the road. The street in front of me here is only one block long, and it's a dead-end too, so to see someone going that fast down the road was just asking for trouble anyway.

The driver of the white delivery truck gets out and it was Chris, my next door neighbor! He was just about to back into his own driveway with the delivery truck that he borrowed from work. The guy comes walking back from the van (sitting with a now flattened right front tire). He's a Mexican that speaks very little English, has no driver's license, and doesn't really even know what insurance is. He called his boss on a cell phone and gave the phone to Chris where it was all explained. Greg went out with Chris' digital camera and took a bunch of pictures from all angles while all the phone stuff was going on.

The police showed up at about the same time as the guy's boss did, and evidently everyone involved hammered out some sort of a mutual deal whereby the Mexican guy didn't go to jail. Personally, I don't get it, but hey... If it makes everyone happy what the hell. The police left after a while, and the neighborhood returned to it's usual state of calm. Pretty exciting stuff to have happen right in front of you.

We sat out in the garage for a few hours, drinking beer and catching up on stuff. Talk got around to cell phones for some reason and he said he still didn't have one but really wasn't too interested in having one. I told him, "Boy have I got a deal for you." I explained the prepay system I'm on and gave him Sarah's old cell phone--Completely charged--With box, manuals and all. He thought that was a pretty good setup and was happy.

He drove us up to R and R Cycles where I planned to buy a kit to rebuild the Harley's carburetor. Much to my dismay, when we got there they were closed for the whole 3-day weekend. Had I known that was going to happen I would have swung by and bought it on Friday. Oh well. On the way home Greg drove us to Applebee's and treated me to dinner. I guess it was payment for the phone and a few other things I gave him.

It's looking pretty dreary today, but hey... A day off is a day off, right?

The Beginning of a 3-Day Weekend

Not that I'm going to do anything exciting...

One positive note: The Harley is ridable. I took it down off the jack last night and took it down the little street in front of me a few times.

I had a lot of problems I dealt with:

• I poured some gas in it and it leaked out of two places where the inferior clamps I used didn't hold. During that whole fiasco I ended up with gas everywhere.
• After I fixed the gas leaking and tried to start it, the battery went flat so I had to put it on the charger.
• After the battery had enough juice to start it, I found it had no spark and wouldn't start. I removed the right side fuel tank where all the wiring is and re-seated all the wiring plugs and it was fine then.
• There seems to be an oil leak on the left side that it never had before (at least it never leaked enough to present itself to me before). I have no idea what it is yet because it's not exactly easy to access.

Chris from two doors down was here with his darling little 3-year old daughter Kaylee while I was farting around with it. He was helping me with little things as I was troubleshooting everything. I was hoping to ride it to work today, but the good thing is that it is ridable at this point, so some careful work this weekend should clinch it.

I stopped at Winco foods after work to buy my "Friday beer" just in case I was able to ride the bike to work today (nowhere to carry a half case of beer on a Harley). Just as I pulled into the parking lot, the phone rang. It was Teresa, calling from work and explaining how Sarah was doing. Her timing was perfect because she was telling me that Sarah wanted a few things to eat and drink and wondered if I could get them for her. When I stopped by to see her and drop off her groceries, I got a firsthand look at what strep throat looks like. Wow... I pity anyone with that. She was still able to eat, but had to chew things up pretty well to get them down her throat. She was drinking a lot of smoothies and Sobe strawberry-banana drinks. Anyway, she seemed to be in good spirits and was enjoying the fact that she was able to stay home on a nice day. She had been spending time out in the hammock on the deck reading.

Because I knew she was out of school was the reason I hoped to be able to ride the Harley to work today. I am usually her after school transport home, and the bike doesn't quite work for that. Actually, I may get to next week anyway because of their mandatory 10-hour day work week on holiday weeks. I usually avoid such things, but I may do it next week. It's not time-and-a-half because it will still be only a 40-hour week, but it will still be extra pay.

Although I'm a little disappointed that I couldn't ride to work today, it's okay. After all, it's a 3-day weekend, right?

Sometimes Nothing Happens...

...And yesterday was a good example.

I picked Sarah up from school and she was not looking good. She's been sick for a few days now, so Teresa had her scheduled to go to the doc yesterday. After I dropped her off, I ran a few errands. I stopped at the glass store and ordered another bedroom window screen, stopped at R and R Cycle and bought some new brake pads and a new fuel hose for the Harley, then stopped at Lowe's and returned an item I didn't need.

I had every intention of going out to the garage and getting some stuff done.

I grabbed a beer and opened the garage door, and managed to get 6 nylon zip ties put on the Harley when the phone rang. It was Greg, asking questions about his laptop, wireless connections, and griping about Windows Vista.

While I'm still talking to Greg, Chris, my next door neighbor (a motorcycle rider) came over with his dad that had stopped in to visit him (also a motorcycle rider) to check out my project. All the while I'm drinking beer. We ended up swapping a lot of stories and having a good gab fest. After a while they both hopped on their bikes and took off for a ride.

About that time, Gina, a friend of mine stopped by to show off her new PT Cruiser convertible. We ended up yakking and yakking, and by the time she left it was almost 7pm.

Teresa called and said that Sarah has strep throat, so no school today. At least now we know what was wrong with her, but you have to wonder how many of her classmates also have it now.

I whipped up some spaghetti for dinner and watched most of a movie. I started falling asleep at that point... A victim of alcohol and a full tummy. Bed time.

Oh well... At least I got those 6 zip ties put on...

A Delightfully Rainy Weekend

Why? Because I had so much work to do and it felt good to be indoors doing it!

I spent all day out in the garage working on the Harley yesterday. Well, I shouldn't say all day, because it was close to noon before I got out there to begin with. The bottom line: I got a lot done. When I got up this morning I was tired and sore from it.

I started the day by going to my favorite mom & pop Harley store and plunking down $90 for a fuel petcock. Yeah, I should have bought this one to begin with. Don't you hate it when you gamble on something unknown and it ends up being a total loss? That's what happened to me. I gave up on the old one after trying to install it in my freshly painted gas tanks. It physically would not fit through the hole. WTF? The filter screen on it was actually too big to go into the hole, and if I ever did get it in, I probably would never see it again. No, take that $40 and toss it into the toilet. When I got the new one home and opened it up, it was pure quality all the way--Smooth and precise, and a perfect fit. There's something to be said for made in USA.

I did a lot on the hawg. As a matter-of-fact, it's almost finished! I have to put the rear wheel back on, but I'm thinking I might hold out and put some new brake pads in the rear while it's apart. As much of a hassle as it was to take off, I don't want to do it again for a while. The reason I took the rear wheel off to begin with was to afford me lots of room to deal with the new wiring I had to run under the rear fender for it's new turn signals.

I finally came into the house at about 7pm last night, and I was dog-tired. The best thing in the world to me at that point was to strip, shower, and eat a Papa Murphy's Cowboy pizza. That's exactly what I did. I called it in and went down to pick it up (it's only about 10 blocks away). For those of my readers that don't know, Papa Murphy's is a take and bake pizza chain, and their Cowboy is my favorite one. You can get an idea what's in it by going here. When I got home, I preheated the oven, took a shower, and sat naked wolfing pizza and watching Being John Malkovich. That was quite the movie... Very entertaining.

After doing some laundry and stuff this morning, I went over to Teresa and Sarah's house to install some curtain rods in Sarah's bedroom. She already had Levelor blinds in there, but never had anything to break up the "blank" look of them. I took a little cooler along with my tool bag, so in addition to being fairly easy, it was also a fairly pleasurable job.

My mom called the other night... Wondering where I bought the bottle of wine I gave her for Mother's Day. It wasn't wine, it was vinegar. Sigh. After I left Sarah's house I swung by their house and picked it up. Unfortunately only my dad was home, so I told him I had to get home and finish my laundry. I swung by the store and exchanged it. That's a helluva Mother's Day gift, isn't it? Anyway, I'll chill it and take it over tomorrow. Tomorrow is her birthday, and just like Mother's Day, I have no idea what to get her.

Sometimes I envy the Jehovah's Witnesses... They don't celebrate birthdays or any other holidays...

But then... I look out the window like I am now... And I see rain... And I remember that those poor Jehovah's Witnesses have to go "door knocking" all the time... Nope, I'll stay naked and warm thankyouverymuch.

27 Years Ago Today...

5:25pm, Eastern daylight time... That was the last cigarette I ever smoked.

How do I remember it? It was the day after Mt. St. Helens erupted, and here in Washington State, we remember that event every year on the date it happened.

I was living in North Carolina then, in the final months of my 6 year enlistment in the Air Force. I was living in a rented house with a young married couple--Both coworkers and great friends of mine. One afternoon Cindy and I were sitting on the couch in the living room, and if memory serves me, were both pretty high. I don't know where Skip (his nickname all his life) was at the time... Probably outside doing something. I turned to her and said, "See this? (holding up the cigarette I had just lit) It's the last cigarette I'll ever smoke."
"Yeah right." she said with the typical cynicism people reserve for statements like that.

I have no idea why I chose to quit. Nobody told me I should, begged me, coerced me, or anything else. I never experienced any health issues of any kind, and never felt that smoking interfered with anything in my life. Looking back on it now, I do seem to remember being annoyed at the few times I couldn't smoke somewhere. Rules were very loose governing smoking back then, and when a situation denied me the ability to smoke I remember being perturbed. How dare they, right? Boy, times change... Anyway, that may have influenced my choice to quit. You know what I think really did it though? Cindy's words: "Yeah, right." I remember saying something to the effect of, "Oh yeah? You'll see..."

Yeah, right.

I remember telling everyone, and telling everyone to tell everyone else. I wanted people to be watching me all the time--Never giving me an opportunity to slip and "lose it." I also remember thinking that it would be easy because I had a lifestyle that afforded me the opportunity to smoke a lot of weed, and I figured I would just smoke joints instead, and then ease up on them after a while. Ha. Weed may have a lot going for it, but it does NOT replace smoking. The fullness in the lungs (eww!) when you inhale a cigarette was not there. Obviously it was a nicotine thing. I do think, however, that being stoned a lot helped me lessen the urges when they did hit though--My mind simply wandered away from it more easily.

Anyone that has quit will tell you their own stories, but for me it was a "roller coaster ride" of urges and desires. I could go a few days and be fine--Only occasionally reaching for my smokes after a meal and instantly realizing, "oh yeah..." when they weren't there. Then out of the blue a huge wave of withdrawal would hit, and I'd run the gamut of emotions. As time went by, the frequency of bouts of withdrawal did get farther and farther apart, but their severity never waned much--For at least 6 months or so anyway. Little by little, even they went away. For years I might occasionally have a dream where I awoke and realized that I was smoking in it. It never affected me or made me want to smoke when I woke up, rather, I found it curious that my subconscious had still not let it go. I think it was at least 10 years until I really felt like I was a nonsmoker.

Sometimes it seems like it was just the other day, and and sometimes it seems like it was a lifetime ago. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since that day, but at the same time, I've sorta come full circle. I was young, single, and carefree back then, and now I'm old, single, and carefree (sometimes too carefree... Just like back then).

Thank you, Mount St. Helens, for affording me the way for me to remember this important date in my life.

I've Said it Over and Over...

... And I'll say it again: Sometimes it's the little things. In this case, it's all about the little expense I shelled out to buy the little mesh to keep out the little pests.

Yes, I picked up my new window screen and brought it home yesterday afternoon, and it was a perfect fit!

I doubt if anyone reading this places this much importance on such a little victory, but there are several factors here:

1. I spent all last summer with NO screens (I still can't believe I did that) and placed keeping my home bug-free as a higher priority than keeping the upstairs cool and comfortable. After all, I am nude here all the time, so I was reasonably comfortable (so I thought) most of the time anyway.


2. My aluminum windows have more than one "track" in them on the outside. I really had no idea where or how the screen was supposed to fit. Screens have springs on one side to hold them into the tracks, and every time I would try to measure the openings I would get puzzled and give up.


3. I don't think I actually got to the point of finding out how much (or little as proved to be the case) a screen would cost. I think I may have went to Lowe's once and asked about screens and was told they didn't do them.

Yes, I looked at them several times while I've lived here--Each time with new resolve and determination. And each time I gave up or forgot about it.

I know for a fact that there were times I was chatting online with a group of people and the subject of temperature would come up. I know it was in the low 90's in here on more than one occasion, but I didn't care all that much. I had a killer fan, I was naked, and my home was bug free. On one or two occasions I did give up and open my window for a half hour or so before bedtime and was rewarded with bug bites all over me while I slept. I'm pretty sure that little tidbit is in my blog archives somewhere.

Anyway, that's all history. Now I can be comfortable in the upstairs here at my humble abode, all the time thumbing my nose at the bugs that bounce off the outside of my new force field. I can hear them now, "Let me in... I smell a naked human inside and I want a bite!"

It's Turbulent Tuesday

That's what I call it at work. For some reason, Tuesdays are always very busy and fast-paced--Much like Fridays--So I came up with the name Turbulent Tuesday.

Denis came by last night... "Okay, let's see the damage" he asked, obviously hearing about the fender paint from my parents as I knew he would. When we went out to the garage he said, "Ah, that's nothing... Easy fix. I've still got the same paint in the pot and ready to go." (For the uninformed, the "pot" is the little plastic hopper that you put your paint in and attach it to the top of the paint gun.) He said he would give them a quick smooth and shoot them this morning, and because it's supposed to be warm/hot today, he would leave them outside to cure all day, so he took them with him when he left. Whew. Things don't look as bad as they did at first. Still though, it was heartbreaking to see that on those fenders the other day...

After I got home from work yesterday, I made a couple trips back and forth between home and a local window/glass store, measuring for bedroom window screens. I ordered one screen, and if I got my measurements right, I'll order the other one too. If not, I'll adjust and reorder. I figure if I screw up one screen at $20, it's still cheaper than paying them a $40 measuring fee in addition to the cost of the screen. I just know I will not put up with having no screens up here again as I did last summer. You either roast or let bugs in, and that's not much of a choice. I really like breezes, and I'm looking forward to it! Funny I never did it last year when I think about it... What a putz...

My crappy Sunday pretty much stayed on track--It was crappy all day. I ended up going out with a major chip on my shoulder (even though I tried hard not to) about the paint snafu, and my dad didn't help matters any. He was in his usual antagonistic/argumentative mood. It's really unfortunate too because it was my mom's day and she got the short end of the stick during that visit. I ended up taking her a nice bottle of wine, but I couldn't bring myself to put up with my dad for more than a half hour before I left. He just kept ranting on and on about how filthy Mexicans are, and I don't like that bigoted crap he dishes out. He lives right next to one of Auburn's biggest parks, and he only notices when a park user does something wrong (litter, etc). If he sees something like that, he accuses everyone remotely similar to them for the rest of his pathetic life. I like everyone unless they give me a reason not to, and he just pissed me off more than I already was. Amongst my siblings I refer to him as the neighborhood Gestapo, as all he does is walk around looking for anyone that does something to piss him off.

After I got home from their house I decided to address my truck's "random start" issue. I never know when it's going to start or not, and it's very frustrating. I ended up replacing almost everything else in the engine electrical area that provides spark to it, and still the same--It starts right up and 5 minutes later... Nothing. Not much sense in having a vehicle you can't depend on. It still costs money to insure... Driven or not. I guess I'll bend my friend Greg's ear on this one and see if we can solve it.

Well, time for work...

Update to this morning's post...

First I stared in disbelief.
Then I thought I was going to cry.
Then (and still now) thought I was going to throw up.

I went out to the garage a couple hours ago to move my Harley parts into the house where it was a little warmer and safer for them. I moved both the gas tanks into the living room and set them down on the carpet in a good spot and went back to get the fenders.

Both fenders were evidently fucked up on the ride home in my car.

I didn't see it yesterday when I took them out of the trunk and put them in their spot in the garage, but it's there, plain as day. Each of them has nasty abrasion/impression marks on one side from the trunk carpet of my car. We both knew how dry/not dry they were when we put them carefully into the trunk wedged between a couple old t-shirts to keep them from moving. I only drove about 6 blocks. Evidently the factory carpet in a car trunk is not like regular carpet. Now both of them need to be redone.

I feel sick, and I still have to face Mother's Day yet.

I want to just crawl into a fucking hole.

Happy Mother's Day

Every year I go through the same thing: What do I get my mom for Mother's Day? I never know what to get. I would hate to blow my streak, so yes--Again I have no idea what to get her.

I think this year is worse because I've found myself drifting farther apart from her. It has nothing to do with her... It's my dad. I can't stand to visit over there because of him. I used to think that he was ruining her life, but I'm not so sure any more. She seems to have adopted some sort of caregiver role towards him. She has always catered to his whims... Pouring him a glass of Pepsi or making him a sandwich or whatever so he doesn't have to get his lazy ass out of his Nascar-watching chair, but I notice nowadays she seems to defend him on occasion. I don't know... I guess after a certain amount of years together a certain symbiosis forms.

I would not be a bit surprised if Sarah didn't get her mom anything. She doesn't think at all about things like that. Back in March when it was Teresa's birthday, Sarah didn't even give her a card. I'm not going to hold her up any longer--She's 16 years old and it's time she starts feeling repercussions from her actions. Don't even get me started on the car I bought her that's still parked...

On a good note, my Harley is completely painted! I just finished putting the finishing touches on another chapter in the saga on my website. You can click here to zip to it. If you want to read the whole thing, it starts here. Because the parts need to sit and cure for a couple days, I don't want to start putting anything on just yet and risk damaging the paint. I have a few other things I can do in the meantime. I'm just glad that the paint is done... Now it's totally an "inside" job. Now it's totally up to me.

I had such a good surprise when my dear friend Mary popped online this morning! She is so busy these days that I seldom hear from her, so when I do it's special. I could blame the fact that she's in South Carolina and I'm in Washington, but I don't think that part of it matters much. I guess because it's so seldom that we chat it makes it all the more special when it does happen. It was great!

Well, I guess I should put some clothes on and go out and find my momma something nice. Sigh.

Ups & Downs

First of all, let me say how much I hate being sick. I know, I know... Everybody says that. I'm one of those people that get sick very, very seldom, so maybe I notice it more, I dunno. I just know that I hate it. I hate it so much that when I start to get the telltale warning sign of a slightly sore throat on one side, it pisses me off and ruins my day right there. It hit me full force yesterday, and I had pretty much all of it: Nose, coughs, chills... I was lucky yesterday went at smoothly as it did, all things considered. I almost didn't go in to work.

Our company is in the midst of a very important certification process, called Third Party Registration. Imagine a company that makes parts for Boeing, and they submit a bid to another company to get their work as well. You tell them you make parts for Boeing all the time and do nice work. The other company asks you if you're certified, to which you answer "yes." They ask you who certified you, and you answer, "Well, Boeing did." Not good enough. The potential for "looking the other way" on little things is too great when you have a customer certify you to make parts for them. To avoid a scenario like that, some companies will go for the method we are in the middle of. It's a completely neutral 3rd party that we hired, and they spend a full week going over every aspect of your company.

We are in the midst of that right now.

We have been prepping for this for at least 6 months, and even hired a guy solely to put together a complete company policy/procedure manual (a requirement) in preparation for it. The certification guy has been spending time with all different sorts of people, asking questions, checking paperwork and processes, and noting deficiencies. Yesterday was my turn. He spent 2 hours with me going over my job as material receiving manager (or whatever they call me). To have that happen when you're well is hard enough, but I passed. A little later in the day, our general manager (who was also present during my grilling) came by and said, "Nice work, that went smoothly." He's going to be spending today and tomorrow out in the shop, asking employees all sorts of random things and observing their answers. It's pretty nerve-wracking, but if we get this certification it will mean our little company will be suddenly even more notable than we already are. The work we get in could suddenly increase by a lot.

In other news, Denis came by a couple nights ago with my front fender. He had sprayed it with the filler primer and brought it for me to sand in preparation for the final paint. He looked over my job on the rear fender and told me it looked real good. We are all set up and plan to give it all the final black paint tomorrow night. Woohoo!

In related news, when I was in the garage working on Sunday, I put a "wanted" ad on Criagslist for some factory Harley turn signal brackets. I wanted the ones that come on many models that have the turn signals mounted in "hang-down" mode up on the handlebars, using the mirror bolts. Right after I posted it, a guy emailed me, saying that he had a set he'd let me have for $10 and they even had the lights (which I didn't really want anyway). Turns out he was just out of town from me here, slightly past Sarah's school. I went up and got em last night and they are like brand-spanking new. I think they were taken off the bike right after he got it. We spent a little while talking about Harleys while I was there. After all, how could I not? He had 3 of them, and had parts all over the place. I'll keep his number because he could be a potential source of parts in the future. You never know when you might need that special little bolt, bracket, or part at 9pm on a Friday night... When I got home with those brackets and went out to the garage, they were a perfect fit--Much better than anything I could have come up with on my own.

Things are looking up!

Assumptions of Quality

You know, I was wondering what that was yesterday when I was eating my sandwich and I thought I smelled something. I didn't notice an odd taste or anything though. Maybe the mustard was my salvation. Anyway, this morning while making my lunch my nose told me that the honey ham I was making my sandwich out of was not up to standards. I hate that. The package was just opened a few days ago, and is well below pull date.
It kinda makes you think about all the things we take for granted... Things we that assume have been completed, manufactured, cooked, built or whatever--All correctly.

Or were they?

We have no idea what's really inside any package of food we buy or if it was stored correctly do we? We have no lab in our homes to test with, nor are we trained to do it. We have no idea if that wheel on our car was made correctly and will stand up to the hard cornering we're doing we up on a mountain road. We have no idea if the wiring in our house is just one light switch click away from a total meltdown. How many times have any of us ever washed off the top of that coke or beer can before we placed our lips on it? Probably never.

When you think about it, you can go on and on and on.

There's no sense in being paranoid about it though--All those things are out of our control for the most part. All we can do is be vigilant and address things as we see em. We have to trust. Trust in every person that had a hand in making the product that we buy. Let me tell you, there are a lot of people behind the scenes of anything you buy. Take my little package of lunch meat: Farmer, meat plant, curing, testing, handling, added ingredients (attach the same list to each of those), packaging, etc. And that's just the product inside the wrapper. There is a whole different list of people associated with the package itself.

Trust. Assume. Hope...

The Woes of New Sheet Metal

I was out late last night by my standards, and I didn't get home until 10pm. I was at Denis' house working on my Harley fenders.

One thing I learned last night: Just because a sheet metal item (car or bike) is new doesn't mean it's straight.

I bought the front fender new a few years ago, and it has been kept safe the whole time I've owned it. In other words, I've never dropped it or banged it or anything. He initially looked it over and said it was pretty good, and that we would just need to give it a primer and sand like most other things.

Wrong.

Last night I was there when he attempted to block sand the primer coat. That's what you do when you want to show the high/low spots. Let me tell you, it looked like it was formed with a rock and club. Much hammering, sanding and evaluation later, he mixed up a batch of "mud" and gave it a coat of that to fill the voids. After it cured, it was sanded down, finally making the fender smooth like it should be. I left with the rear fender for me to sand this weekend when I have time. It's already been filled before it was primered, so all I have to do there is sand it smooth for the final coat.

Denis assured me that it's very seldom a new piece of sheet metal is perfect. He's been a body man for a few years and has seen a lot.

It occurred to me as I lay down in bed last night that I only have four weeks left and my bike has to be 100% operational. Sure, the updates will be done easily, but I also want enough room to handle any tweaking and updating that needs to be done by then. It's obvious that I've spent way too long doing this. It should have been done months ago. Typical.

It's Sarah's last tennis game of the season today. Yay! They had a game last night too, and trounced them soundly. The one she played in was won 7-0. The other team was way out of their league.

It's Friday, and boy do I need it. Thanks to Cinco de Mayo tomorrow, lots of good Mexican beer oughta be on sale today.

The Gilded Cage

A rainy Tuesday. Sometimes you just want to stay home and stare out the window, you know?

Actually, that might be the case for me a lot of the time. I'm the kind of person that can get by on 10% physical activity and 90% brain activity. Not a lot of people can do that without going nuts. I can entertain myself doing the most mundane things if I have to.

Maybe that ability is why I embrace the "lost on a tropical desert island" fantasy?

People have been taught to escape if they were ever in a scenario like that, but I don't think I would be so hasty. True, a person would have to be more active than they think they would between keeping themselves sheltered and fed, but it would be a worthwhile trade off.

They would all be in such a hurry to get back to their life--The life of excesses that we enjoy here in the US. But isn't it much like the bird in the gilded cage? We sing our high praises of our lives here, but little by little we are isolating ourselves from others, while at the same time becoming more and more under the watchful eye of the bodies that govern us.

In This Perfect Day by Ira Levin (an excellent book by the guy that also wrote The Boys From Brazil and Rosemary's Baby), the author explores a scenario where the government has somehow gotten out of hand and has full control over it's citizens. They get medication that keeps them docile and harmless, and their whole life is controlled by a bracelet they wear on their wrist. Everything they eat, drink, buy, or do. In this story, as people somehow escape their medication and become more aware, they realize that there are more just like them, and they are all banded together in one place. The spooky thing is when they realize that the place they all "escaped to" was put there for that very reason. A place for dissenters--A "jail" if you will.

This thought popped into my head a few days ago when I was thinking about nudist parks. Isn't that twisted? That society would create a "haven" for people like myself when in reality it would be more like a prison? It's an interesting notion.

I'll take a "prison" like that any day... As long as it's tropical.