Two of my favorite pictures. The first several years ago on Dad's Norton (I think we covered this earlier) and the second which is the profile picture for this blog is myself with my dad's Ducati which he replaced the Norton with in 1978. Some things have changed, but the boots didn't. Those boots have been to 2 countries and pretty much every state in the Union.
I got a comment on my Bisexuality video on Youtube from a Transgender teen who had apparently been afraid to subscribe to me prior to that video because he saw a pipe smoking motorcycle wrench and thought I'd reject him. He's actually a she, but you would be hard pressed (cept the voice) to know it by watching his videos. I thought it was a pretty great comment.
Compliments of Ian I found a new place to watch TV shows online and in the last few days have watched 3 full seasons of 30Rock, 1 full season of 24, the very first episode of CSI: Miami, and I'm just getting going.
There's a fella coming to look at the house today with our Realtor to estimate the cost of work. I'd kill to be able to get out of bed, but I just can't do it.
Last night was almost unbearable pain wise. On nights like those I swear to god if I had a gun... which is of course why I don't have a gun.
I got some minor parts for the Yamaha in the mail yesterday, but not the ones I needed. I got 1 pair of exhaust bronze gasket inserts (I can salvage 2 working ones out of the current 4), I got 2 new compression gaskets for the exhaust, and 4 new studs with 4 new bolts. That covers it. Waiting on the more important pieces.
Alright, I just had to go give the worker guy a tour of the basement and that deleted what reserves I had left and my chest is swelling. I hate this picture, but I can say over and over what kind of pain it is, and how it feels, this picture was taken by a friend in Phoenix as the pain was escalating from a 9 to a 10 (I pass out at a 10). That was how much pain I was in for HOURS last night. I'm not trying for sympathy here, I just wish people to understand. I'm at a 7 right now and it's climbing, so I'm out with the picture:
Haha, I'm depressed as fuck. I'm also in a Lot of pain, to the point where I had to bail out of TC because I just couldn't hide it and people were starting to look concerned - despite having seen me like this before. I also thought I might pass out. I'm almost out of energy, if another one hits, I'm fucked.
So there are these pictures. One of Dad in his mid 20s with his Norton Atlas, and one of me in my early 20s with the same motorcycle - two of my favorite pictures. The one of me was taken on one of those perfect days. I'd cleaned the garage, and dad was out grilling, and my brother was there, and we were all talking about motorcycles, and I was on the Atlas and Al snapped the picture. Its hands down the best picture ever taken of me - as an adult.
So here is pop, and here am I:
I have been thinking about many things. There is a sidecar I want to build, Jon is figuring out plans, and Craig Vetter unwittingly is helping, though he offered me his designs with this picture 3 years ago:
See I don't want your conventional sidecar with the big chair on the side. This isn't for a person, this is so I can ride year round. This is stability and such. So that open design is perfect, and inexpensive.
You see the classic sidecar frame, and I could get one of these minus the fender for $500 from this guy in Conn looks like this:
But Vetter's design, which I have the full Patent info on, as well as his permission (from 3 years ago) to build one looks like this:
^^^^ That is something that is totally doable and matches my needs. It is something you could do anything with, he even designed a fuel tank that fits into it. I mean its just a wicked idea. The perfect 3rd Wheel.
I also have the final plan for the XS400 figured out, and since I can't rebuild Dad's Atlas I am going to go one way different.
Remember I'd talked about turning her into a Cafe racer? Well I am going to build a replica of this bike that Dad used to race, I'll even paint up the fairing the same. The sidecar looks enough like a vintage race-sidecar platform that it won't be totally out of place. This is a cafe Racer I can build for about $1200, and the tank, seat, and fairing would be able to be put on what ever bike I get next, as well as the headlight (off Dad's Atlas), the handlebars, the mirrors, what ever tail light I install.
See? Thats the thing, these cosmetics are universal to old Jap and English bikes. So yes I plan to over time put $1200 into a free motorcycle, but when/if it wears out I'll be able to put all of it plus the sidecar onto the next free bike.
Anyways, thats the dream and the goal.
This is what keeps me sane. OH! and the new bridge for the Violin I don't have yet came today. Its made in france and has adjustable feet so it will fit any violin. I read up on the violin I bought and they said the bridge was shit and broke easily, so I got a good one instantly. Here, let me show you:
Hahaha I say sane, and then I post a picture of me looking like that. Thats what my hair looks like when its not slicked back. I need a shave. But I really dig the new bridge. You can just make out the circles in the wood where the feet are - so they conform to the shape of the violin.
The great humor is I paid $50 (including S&H) for a Violin, Bow, & case. Then I paid $12 for a how to play book, $12 for a new bridge, and $20 for a shoulder rest. There is a method to the madness - you just have to find it.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Tonight I am bingeing on old Peter Gabriel, the last song was Secret World, this current song is Come Talk to Me.
I have been some what in a remiss - if that is the right word, not much for posting right now. I'm going to make a youtube video, where I will ramble because my hands hurt too much to type.
I am listening to one of my favorite songs (I say that a lot), the video is likewise a favorite, the bike you see in it is a 60's Triumph, an honest to god scrambler, and the logo on the badge (which you can't make out) is the same as the logo tattooeed to my chest. THIS is a machine I respect and love.
Incidentally for any rowers out there, or for those of us who don't row - but have had a LONG love/hate relationship with Ergometers - this song is PERFECT for blasting into your headphones as you push your body to it's limits pulling on that bar.
For the first time since I was 21 I am working my way through a case of Coca-Cola. I switched to Pepsi at the New England Culinary Institute - my short stint there, Pepsi was free with meals, but you had to pay for Coke.
You know how they say hindsight is 20/20? Well it is of course true. I can look back and see a lot of regrets. I have to keep telling myself that even if I had done everything right, my body still would have failed - its a way to dull down regrets.
Take NECI for example, my very short stint at Culinary school. I could have handled that better. I should have been sleeping more at night. I should have attempted to be more social with my classmates - make friends. I should have worked out more. I should have eaten better. But I was 21. 21 is fucking young. Hell 26 is young (no matter how old and mature I FEEL). So I drank Pepsi and stayed up late listening to music - and wore my body down even faster than would have happened anyways.
I can tell myself that I have a reason I don't sleep much (I write this at 5AM), and I have a reason that my body fails, I have a few of them.
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Tell me something, explain something to me please. WHY is it that so many people tell me I'm a special guy, I'm an inspiration. They say "I don't know how you do it" and shit like that. Well you know, I really have no choice with the whole staying sane in the basement kind of thing. There are a dozen motorcycle parts on the bed that remain uninstalled and it drives me nuts. I also often feel like a fuck up. I mean I really am. Yes I'm still alive. But I fucked up high school, I fucked up college over and over, I've fucked up friendships. I am alone. I am disabled. HOW can that be inspirational to anybody? I don't get it.
0000000
Hahahha enough of that self pity bullshit. There's no point to it. Its like worrying about some situation you may be in, you can't focus and worry about tomorrow - because you JUST don't know what's going to happen.
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I'm at a sort of a loss right now. I'm trying to find meaning. I wanted to be a Chef, I wanted to be a school teacher, I wanted to be a motorcycle mechanic, I wanted to be a techie in the theater. I wanted to be Great. I could have been Great. So what now? What can I do? What can I do with my life? I am trapped here, most of the time. There is so much... and yet...
What can I do? What is my purpose? Is it to come here and write? To write in my notebooks? To get that book written and published? Is it to listen to music and to learn the Violin? Is it to expand my mind reading every book I can get my hands on - when my hands don't hurt so bad I can't read...
They say every man needs a purpose. They say do what you love. I need to find something new. I need to get my hands on something I love that I can do down here. Maybe I can rebuild carbs and cylinder heads while in bed?
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You say I'm going to buy this place and Burn it Down I'm going to put it six feet underground You say I'm going to buy this place and watch it fall Stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls Oh I'm going to buy this place and start a fire..... ^ Coldplay - A Rush of Blood to the Head
Feeling Uninspired Think I'll Start a fire Everybody Run... Bobby's got a gun Thin you're kinda NEAT THEN SHE TELLS ME I'M A CREEP ^ Stone Temple Pilots - Creep
I don't need no arms around me I don't need no drugs to calm me I have seen the writing on the wall Don't think I need anything at all ^ Pink Floyd - Another Brick in the Wall
Turn a Blind Eye Why Do I deny Medicate me So I die Happy ^ The Exies - Ugly
You can run on for a long time Run on for a long time Run on for a long time Run on long time Sooner or later God's gonna cut you down Sooner or later God's gonna cut you down ^ Johnny Cash - God's Gonna Cut You Down
Oh The rules have changed today I have no place to stay Thinking about the subway And the Love has flown away My tears have come and gone Oh my lord I have to roam I have no home I have no home ^ The Chambers Brothers - Time Has Come Today
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I guess you could say I am in a funky mood tonight. I have been thinking a great deal about Cody, Steve, and Wingnut. I have been thinking about Liam. I look across the room and I can see his picture on my door. Maybe in another life.
I smoke too much tobacco, and I drink too much soda. I talk to much, and I write too much. These are addictions I can't seem to feed enough of. Why can I express myself better in words than I can out loud? I have 6 subscribers here, I have never met... 6 of them. Brent - my best friend - will work his way through this, probably not the whole damned post, but he'll read some of it.
I'm going to see him in about 8 hours. Going to have my car towed to his house, then join him at the Fire Station till he gets out of work. After that, we'll be working on the car in his garage. The car has no brakes. Its been 2 weeks. Its like anything I guess. You can always rely on Brent, he's one of those rock solid friends. Fuck it, he's a brother. The only thing that separates us as being brothers is we don't share the same blood. Thats really it.
At any rate, I am going to shut up now, this has gone on FAR too long.
--------------------------------- A setback for the sidecar plan hit me today. I told Paul, who I had discussed my idea with the other day, and he had to admit he'd not thought of it either. A sidecar has 4 mounting points along a frame. Here (took me a few minutes to find this diagram even though I've seen it a 1000 times) you can see how it is usually done:
I hit a serious issue in that I don't have a cradle frame as seen in the above. My bike looks like this: The engine hangs from the frame. This doesn't stop people, the way around this is making a "sub frame" a crude example can be seen here:
As you can see what the subframe really is, well it turns a non cradle frame into a cradle frame.
So the subframe will have to be designed and built before I can really think about building the sidecar, because what's the point if I can't find a way to attach it?
So that's to be my new fiddle, or violin, or what ever you want to call it. I like the term fiddle, it suits me. I wanted a black one, but they weren't going to have any in for a couple of weeks. Between the available choices, I decided white was good. I could have gotten a classic stained one but I figured that for the price of the fiddle, including rosin, bow, and hard case... the stain would be utter shit, where as with white at LEAST it would be well laid on.
Liam is learning the guitar. He'll probably pick that up quicker than I pick up the fiddle, BUT we figure that we can bring them on camping trips and have some music. Camping via motorcycles. Thats the way to do it. Thats the only way to do it.
Tomorrow (today) is going to be a solid day. The Harley fork tubes arrive, as well as the new Master Cylinder for my car. That project will be either tonight or tomorrow. I'll get a tow out to Brent's and then after he gets out of work at the Fire Department at 5pm we'll go get brake fluid and what ever else... brake line I suppose, put the car on the lift and have at it. There is also a belt that needs tensioned, and I think just maybe we'll have to do wheel bearings soon.
I also had an idea for the sidecar.
Oh right, you haven't heard about the sidecar yet. I want a sidecar. Not really the body so much as the frame. I want a motorcycle that I can ride 4 seasons if I was so inclined. Now the bike is a small engine, so I don't Really need this big heavy chair. What I need is a frame, ballast, and that third wheel with a mud flap and turn signals and such.
I figure I can make the frame out of Gas pipe. I'll need Walter's help (Walter is a friend of the family and a restoration plumber) I might need threaded gas pipe at a rather random set of lengths.
Ok so let me see if I can describe this for you in a good way. The basic frame is a rectangle that is just slightly longer than a square. So for that you need 4 lengths of gas pipe and 4 elbows. Now if you're looking down on that, say you were to sketch the rectangle on a sheet of paper.
Now choose one of the two longer sides of the rectangle and count that off limits - THAT is where it bolts up to the motorcycle. Now what you want to do is look at the other side, the long pipe running parallel to the pipe that hooks to the bike. THAT is where the wheel goes.
So now it gets sort of complicated. So the view you should have drawn is what would be called a "Gulls eye view" which is an old Navy expression.
Now draw a single line the same length as the longer portion of the rectangle some place.
THAT line is the side view of the rectangle. That line is that outer pipe that will hold the wheel. Now wee need a suspension - so that pipe is actually going to be made up of 3 pipes. The two that thread into elbows, then a center one that will be bent inwards (into the rectangle) slightly (if you're looking at a clock then the amount of a curve say from the 2 to 4). These 3 sections will on the inside thread into two T with the lower portion of the T aiming upwards.
Now there will be Another rectangle jutting up from that side view closer to the rear of the bike, which we're going to say you're looking at the right side of the bike. So the new rectangle will be closer to the left end of the side view which you drew as a single line. This will be a slim rectangle Imagine (I am assuming you are totally not tech savvy) a Pringles can. Thats about the same size as a motorcycle shock. So there has to be a few inches clearance on either side of the shock which is centered in the new rectangle. The shock is about 13" high. So the new rectangle scaled down from say 13" high by 7" wide.
So That essentially is my frame - shouldn't be hard to draw that 3D.
It is slightly more complicated than that. Off that outer frame rail (with the bent in bar) I need a swing arm that will hold the wheel. It has to jut out from the front end of the frame on a spindle inside bushings - The bar that holds the wheel is shaped like a T and is called a swing arm. The bottom part of the T is where the wheel goes, and the bar across the top of the T is the spindle which has to some how connect with my frame. That lower portion of the T is my arm. At the end imaging a fist that holds the wheel.
The Fist has to not only hold the axle that the wheel is on, but it also has to grab that shock that is hanging down from that second rectangle we drew - that you drew ( I am doing all of this in my head ) - and that is why that rail needs to be bent - otherwise the fist would SMACK the sidecar frame as it absorbs the bumps with the help of the shock.
If I want to get even more complicated I would be running a couple of cross rails through the inside of the frame to give it added strength. That would of course require more T unions and cutting the original rails into shorter units.
Once the whole thing is together and I have it so that it will take a wheel - I will bring the sidecar down to Worcester City Welding (or to WPI) and have someone who knows how to weld cast iron, weld all my unions and elbows so that nothing EVER comes unscrewed. Then we primer the whole thing and give it about 8 coats of Rustolium shiny black, until it stops looking like the gas pipe that it is to the untrained eye - which I suspect would hinder inspection.
I need ballast which could be in the form of a steal plate, a thick steal plate. Thats another reason I would like to have those cross members inside - something to rest the plate on. I can then clamp it to those, and maybe have it welded in place.
I want to drill holes in it for "Eye Bolts" so that I can ratchet things to the plate - such as maybe a Christmas Tree one year, or lumbar, tool chests, etc.
Another consideration that I hadn't mentioned is the wheel I use (I have one in mind, already have it) has to be the same size as the rear wheel for the bike, so that the frame isn't too much higher or lower than the motorcycle frame. Stemming off of that consideration is another. That second rectangle (the one that holds the shock) has to be just over half the hight of the Wheel that I am using - and with a tire included on the wheel the entire sidecar frame isn't more than a foot longer TOTAL than the wheel.
I plan to buy an old Triumph or such rear fender for it off Ebay and run a second brake light to it with my right hand blinkers on the sidecar fender front and back. This also will be painted Shiny black.
If I ever wanted to make the bike into a "True" cafe racer (except with a sidecar) then I could use the sidecar to my advantage. You see with the old school kick start cafe racers you didn't need a battery compliments of either a Magneto or a serious capacitor in the wiring. I have no kick starter - so I NEED my battery.
I could mount a Craftsman tool box on the sidecar (painted black) and inside it I could mount my Battery as well as all my electrics - fuses, Rectifier, Regulator, etc) so that I could have the true "cafe" look which essentially means the only thing behind the engine are the carbs, air filters - then open space to the fender.
ANYWAYS... its almost 6AM and I have a doctor's apt at 10:15AM.
So I'm going to smoke and catch a few hours of sleep.
I realize the above was boring to 95% of the people who might read it, and only 6 people that I know of do read this - and I don't think any other than Sean get motorcycles hahaha. But this is how my mind works, and this is my blog. This is where I come when I can't sleep, and when no one I know is awake.
If you ignore the gigantic stack of records (all of which get played rather religiously) you will see a bit of everything I suppose. Old stacks of CDs and Cassettes collect dust. There is the Mac Amp with a blown left channel next to the Crown Amp with its own blown left channel (still using the Crown). The Advent Tuner Pre-Amp which has worn out set of cables that require constant fiddling to get the record player's sound through to the care worn Bozak speakers. The Advent sits on top of a neglected modern tuner made by Yamaha. Over on another bench is an ignored 5 disc CD player that only works with the Mac because the Advent's Aux is out of commission.
Over up against the far wall is a Pawn Shop special guitar that Paul tunes every time he visits and I never bothered to learn how to play. There used to be a joyless neglected Banjo, but I sold it. I have three Blues Harps, one C note and two G note. Two are chromatic, one was my grand fathers, the other two are mine. I can actually play the harmonica alright except I never much cared for it once I figured out how. I find it too shrill, and there's no peace, can't play a soft and sad melody (I realize that goes in the face of "Blues" but I'll defend it).
The only one I was ever actually good at and Truly loved was the violin. I took lessons down at Doherty High School when I was 11/12. I always promised that I'd go back to it someday. (I can see Brent with his head in his hands with what's coming) So I bought a Violin today. *shuddup Brent* I got a cheap as fuck one, case/bow/violin all for $50 including S&H. They have good reviews in the sense of "You get what you pay for" and "sounds better with new strings" That plus a $10 do it yourself book which had 70 positive reviews on Amazon... I don't have to be good, I just need something to do in the basement that I can do sitting down, besides this damned laptop.
I have all the time in the world. The Violin is the only instiment I ever practiced religiously. I feel sort of silly because for $50 I had the options of violet, pink, baby blue, and white... Yes sir, this is a Cheap Violin. I went with white. It is wood tho, I mean it is a real violin, 4/4 size, 23" long.
In other news I brought in the form to get my handicap plate today - I'm going to get the placard because it can be moved from vehicle to vehicle. My one Doc is working through the records to make it easier for me to be square for the childhood disability act.
The first batch of Yamaha parts arrived today. Not the big stuff, more control and cosmetics - as well as some engine bits.
I got the new handlebars, bar end mirrors, hand grips (made in Colorado!!!!), and the new headlight ears.
Then there are the new carb boots, an oil filter, oil filter bolt, carb balancers (vacuum gauges), the chain and sprocket, and a couple other bits, some 20' spools of wire.
I have this idea for the carbs where instead of using the old worn Mikuni vacuum slide carbs I would like to use this pair of JRC flat slide carbs I bought for the 73 Triumph. The thing is, they don't quite fit the boots. The boots on the inside have a step, the inner more narrow step is closer to the cylinder, then the inside diameter opens up to fit around the Mikuni Carb, which is larger than my new carbs. BUT my new carbs DO fit inside the deeper part.
SO the theory is to FIRST make sure these new boots really do fit the bike, as there were two different XS400 engines used in 1982 (bastards *shakes fist*) then once I know they fit, I will see how they work with the current carbs, and inspect the condition of the current carbs. IF I decide to go with the JRC carbs then my theory is that if I trim the outer rim of the boots then it will allow more clearance to slide my carbs into the spot that works, then I can place the clamp farther forward.
The trick with the JRC carbs is that I will need to use an AMAL style throttle (which I have) as well as a 2:1 cable connector (which I also have).
The JRC carb
The Mikuni Carb
As you can see the JRC carb is much more simple. It has a chrome slide that works directly off the cable tensioned by a spring.. The choke is simple, it has about 5 points of adjustment (needle, jets, cable, throttle, and one other) where as the Mikuni has about a dozen adjustments - very good for sport motorcycles - pretty useless for a 45HP mule.
Besides the complexity of setting up the Mikuni correctly and balancing it, the parts for failure are more expensive, the rubber diaphram for the vacuum slide is about $60 to replace. The JRC has the chrome flat slide which can only wear out after maybe 70,000 miles. Since the JRC is made in china the parts are incredibly cheap. SO I would much rather use them if I can.
Not to mention my JRC carbs are brand spanking new, and the Mikunis have been on the bike for 28 years.
With the Flat bars, I plan to move the controls in as far as I physically can without smacking the tank, and then cutting off the excess steel to create more narrow handlebars.
I sold the 1982 Suzuki GS550 tonight to a dude named Andy. NICE guy, a bit younger than me, but a man after my own heart. His intention is to cafe the Suzuki and ride it year round. He's a welder by trade, which is slick - because he'll be able to do things that I can't - and he's going to put the 4:1 exhaust back together. I'll probably see him on the road. It was nice talking to someone who knew what I meant by a Manx tank. It was nice to sell the bike to a guy who knew what the hell he's doing and can appreciate the machine for what its worth, as opposed to what it looks like. He also took the spare frame, gastank, rear wheel, and a half dozen other little bits and pieces which pleased me as a way to clear up more space.
I have to remember to snag an envelope later and put half the cash in it to mail to my buddy Liam. Not the best picture of him, but a great picture all the same. Its one of those pictures where you can kind of tell what kind of a guy he is. He's changed a bit since then, this was before he had some college under his belt, and that by the way is another style of carb in his had (also better than the Mikunis on the bike) a round slide cable operated carb - but I only have that one.
Liam's the fellow who gave me the XS400, and I promised him as a result half of what I made on the GS. He'll have the money for that record player he wants, and I'll have some money for working on my car - and if I'm lucky a tire changing machine (manual) for the garage... for the shop.
I can see the guys who rode 30 years ago saying "Bah! All you need is a bench and some tire irons!" But guys, have you ever tried to break the seal on a tubeless tire? I've found a hacksaw to be the best way to remove a worn out tubeless tire. Its insane.
The Yam will need new tires soon, so will a couple friend's bikes, the Ducati eventually, the Norton... God knows what else. I think you can also change car tires with it.
Well I am slowly writing out my past, I'm at 16 pages of single spaced, and I have a ways more to go. Its the younger years, 13-16 were incredibly complicated. Its massively depressing work, but I have been claiming for years that I am going to write a book about it all, and you know, I think its about time I did it. So I'm writing a book about all of that, some details on what happened to a few of them, how its effected me. I'll probably cover some of my current situation and how I deal with it all. I have to change some details, names, leave out locations and dates. I'm not going to publish it as non fiction because I dont want people digging, I may be putting my story out there, but I still have a right to privacy as do the survivors.
I can deal with friends knowing the truth, but the idea of family members reading it bothers me. But on the other hand I went through a shit load of SHIT and I am still here. If that can benefit one rape victim, or one kid who has been abused, if it can get through to one pedo about how sick it is... then I have done something, then everything I went through is no longer simply something that I have to carry until I am dead. I hope that it can be read by some suburbanites who think that because they left the big bad city their children are safe - that this uglyness only happens to poor kids, that it doesn't happen to kids with good homes, nice clothes, and decent families.
anyways, its close to 4am. I'm gonna watch a movie, smoke my pipe, and pass out.
Hahaha figured that was a good, or appropriate title.
Not much to write. Brent and Julia were just here, they hung out for a little while then we went out to my car to see what was up with the brakes. It seems I've blown a brake line, and well the Master Cylinder is alive, but I wouldn't call it well. So I'm going to replace that too. It'll be next weekend as I'll have to get the car to Brent's house - he's got a lift in his garage so we can work on it with ease.
We're debating the idea of pinching off the line so I can drive it out there, or if I should just catch a tow. Our friend Jon has a tow truck, but he's in Korea until April I think, so that is out. Mind you Jon has a tow truck and a few plow trucks but is that what Jon does for a living? No. Jon is a Nuclear Design Engineer who enjoys plowing snow and working on trucks. He's not like one of those actors *cough*Paul Newman*cough* who enjoyed racing cars so he's show up at B-races with a pit crew. Jon is just as much at home working with his hands as any other guy, if you didn't see him working on a power plant you'd think he built houses for a living. He's more like Steve McQueen. A man who raced bikes and cars and was also an amazing actor - but he was REAL. (no disrespect to Newman, have a lot of respect for him too).
Wow that was a ramble - thats how my mind works. I'll start on one thought and just descend into something else. You can say "Cat" and I'll start talking about Sherlock Holmes - because in my head I will think Cat... Dog... Scooby Doo.. Detectives, Hardy Boys.... HOLMES!!!!!!
I've started slicking my hair back again, but in a more serious way than before - now its more like it was in Phoenix. I've also grown out my sideburns pretty seriously.
Instead of using the Gillette Wax I had before, I have moved back to the actual hair pomade. The trick is to use a little Gillette wax to get it into place, then with your hair wet, you run the pomade under the tap of hot water for a few seconds to soften up the stuff which is a much more serious wax than Gillette's but it is essentially wax, I mean its essentially what I waterproof my Belstaff Jacket with (Waxed Cotton). Once it's hot, you come it through your wet hair, and when the hair dries the wax does too and basically hardens holding your hair in the form you put it in.
So for example I did the above fairly late last night and fell asleep, woke up and my hair was still in close to the same position it's in in the picture. Just had to run the come through it to make it fairly neat again.
The general idea... well its not being a "Greaser" so much as a "Rocker" but the difference is, well you say Greaser and people know what you mean. You say Rocker and anyone under the age of about 50 thinks of a musician - which is not the case here. Rockers were like cafe racers, but not always and not quite. A leading famous example of the Rockers is the 59 Club, which was a club of essentially hooligan boys and girls in England back in the 50s and 60s that was lead by a Priest - Father Graham.
Father Graham was a motorcyclist who saw the boys and girls who were tearing up the streets as his flock, and organized the 59 Club to basically keep them out of trouble, and to give them a real community. THIS is Father Graham
Incidentally the bike he's getting on is a Norton Dominator - or actually either an Atlas or a 650SS - either way its very much the same bike my father rode. Its the bike that is in a basket case in the other room. This priest is one of my heroes.
So here are some pictures of the 59 Club
I so wish my leather jacket was that style, but the one I picked out isn't - but it vents easier, the company that made mine (now in Fall River MA, makes the jackets on site) is Vanson and they make that older style, but I got something more modern which is shocking. I'll never replace it though, dad got it for me - it is one of my prized possessions.
So anyways I have the older bikes - though now I have an 82 Yamaha - but it WILL appear older eventually. I have the leather jacket, I have the open face helmet and will have goggles again eventually. I have the hair.
Its not some misguided attempt at fashion or style. Its not about looking cool or trying to be something that I'm not. This IS who I am. If I was my age now in the 50s or 60s I'd be on an old English bike with the leather jacket and my hair slicked back probably carrying the Same watch, listening to the same music - by the same method, using the same cameras, and telling the same jokes, smoking the same pipes and the same tobaccos. Thats the trick. I Really should have been born in the 40s, it just worked out This way.
Anyways I'm done.
There are a couple of guys I'm thinking about right now. One more than another. So I'll leave you with the Bee Gees live in 1974, singing what I'm feeling right now, sitting here alone on Valentines Day.
Lisa Gerrard - Aria (Layer Cake soundtrack with a Quote that I love)
Limp Bizkit - My Way
Anyways I finally got my orders through to get the bikes going. One order was for my friend Jon, new fork tubes for his 98 Sportster, which were pay back for a part he ordered for me a while back.
Then some simple parts for the XS400. Nothing for the "Cafe" so much as just the initial batch of bits and pieces I will need to make the damned thing both legal and safe. So in no specific order:
2 bar end mirrors Flat bars New grips 3 quarts of oil headlight ears fram oil filter new oil filter bolt carb boots (I noticed the currents are cracked) a chain and split link a front sprocket with the drilled/tapped holes the sprocket holder tab as well as the two bolts that lock it in place new brake shoes for the rear wheel some assorted nuts and bolts for the rear brake new springs for the brake shoes front brake pads carb wires vacuum gauges for the carbs the bolts for the sprocket cover the studs and nuts for the exhaust headers new exhaust gaskets a Mac Exhaust system
Seems like a lot, but most of it was little simple stuff, cheap. The key parts will get her together.
I am also interested to see if the JRC carbs I had for the 73 Triumph will fit the new boots. If so then I can replace the carbs and be ahead of the game. I have asked Paul if he can make me a 2 into 1 manifold so I can just use one carb on the bike. It would be easier to keep in tune, although I don't think that is really necessary now that I have the proper gauges to adjust the carburetors.
The main thing is that I will now have all the little bits I need to put the bike on the road safely. I mean she was running before, but there is a difference between a bike you can ride around the corner and a bike you could ride up to Maine. It also seems that under some of the rules of disability I am only allowed to have one vehicle on the road at a time. This means that once the snow melts the Olds will be coming OFF the road and the XS400 will be going on.
Well the Olds lost her brakes. I was backing down the driveway at the time, so this wasn't as much a disaster as it could have been. If you look: What you can't really see is that I live on a hill. The street is a hill, and the driveway is a hill. So backing down the driveway is fun with no brakes. Had they given out on my street, I'd have driven into the main street which is one of the more busy streets in my city. That would have ended badly for me and my car, since my car is an 86 Oldsmobile which has already suffered one front end collision and the doors are nice and strong - but wouldn't hold up to say a SUV going at 45mph.
Since my friend Jon who got me the car says he put in all new brake lines 2 years ago, and last summer the calipers were replaced - the theory is that the MasterCylinder gave out. Rock Auto has a selection of these for sale, ranging from $30-140, since we have $10 calipers installed, I'm willing to get a nice $30 master cylinder. We have to diagnose that as the problem, I have some checking to do, its going to be 34 degrees tomorrow - perfect for crawling around under a car.
The bastardly part is that I'd hoped to go to the bank yesterday and deposit my Disability money. That was going to pay off a couple bills, get some parts for the Yamaha, and so on.
We continue to look around at houses for sale, here is one thats in our old neighborhood that mom and I like. We'll go see it once we change realtors. One of the realtors we're interested in is also selling this house.
Thats a Nun Singing, hahaha Sister Gertrude Morgan. Its heavy religion, but I like the song. Even if its very repetitive. I've always liked music to do with religion. So lets look at another? Josh Ritter's Thin Blue Flame - which is the best political song I've heard since Desolation Row - By Dylan, but also has to do with religion.
My favorite line from the song is "We need faith for the same reason its so hard to find"
But this section here: I became a thin blue stream The smoke between asleep and dreams And in that clear blue undertow I saw Royal City far below Borders soft with refugees Streets a¹swimming with amputees It¹s a Bible or a bullet they put over your heart It¹s getting harder and harder to tell them apart Days are nights and the nights are long Beating hearts blossom into walking bombs And those still looking in the clear blue sky for a sign Get missiles from so high they might as well be divine Now the wolves are howling at our door Singing bout vengeance like it¹s the joy of the Lord Bringing justice to the enemies not the other way round They¹re guilty when killed and they¹re killed where they¹re found If what¹s loosed on earth will be loosed up on high It¹s a Hell of a Heaven we must go to when we die Where even Laurel begs Hardy for vengeance please The fat man is crying on his hands and his knees Back in the peacetime he caught roses on the stage Now he twists indecision takes bourbon for rage Lead pellets peppering aluminum Halcyon, laudanum and Opium Sings kiss thee hardy this poisoned cup His winding sheet is busy winding up In darkness he looks for the light that has died But you need faith for the same reasons that it¹s so hard to find And this whole thing is headed for a terrible wreck And like good tragedy that¹s what we expect
So we've had, or we Had, as it were - Amy Bear for about 8 years. We got her just before I graduated high school, she was just this little ball of fur. My dad loved Norwegian Elkhounds, his favorite breed.
The thing about Elkhounds are they are TOUGH dogs. The spiked collars you see on some dogs these days were created for the Elkhound, they chained them together back in the Old days with spiked collars to keep Wolves out and off the land. The spiked collar of course protects the neck. These were dogs vikings took with them. These are Nasty creatures if raised to be.
BUT with love and attention you couldn't have a more loving dog. They will protect you to the last, they will love you without holding back. They will NEVER bite a child. As far as dogs go, they are incredibly smart.
Dad named her Amy the Bear because she reminded him of that bear from the children's stories - little bear. God he loved her so much. You can see it, both sides of it in this picture taken when she was just a puppy
Sunday morning my mother woke up to a mess. Amy hadn't been eating right the last couple weeks, just nibbling, but with her teaching 3rd grade, and me in bed most of the time, money being quite tight, the vet was out of the question until Feb Vacation - which is in 2 weeks. So we'd been cooking her chicken and such and cutting it up in her food - a bit of extra motivation to eat.
Its the hardest thing to tell when an Elkhound is sick or hurt. They remain almost as cheerful, and they have incredible pain tolerances. They don't whimper or howl. They don't lay down in a corner and not move.
Sometime late Saturday night the Bear began to bleed out. Mom woke up to find a blood trail into the TV room that lead to a 13" in diameter pool of dark red blood. Before 10AM Amy had repeated this twice more, and was beginning to have trouble walking. You could tell, or I could tell, that she was in pain, not because she was showing solid signs, but because she'd lay down for 2 minutes, get up - walk 2 feet and lay back down again in a different position, which incidentally is something I do.
Ended up taking her to the Tufts ER, because it was apparent that she REALLY wasn't doing well.
I didn't have a good feeling about it, but began to feel better about it as she sat in the backseat of my car, tail up, ears back, grinning and looking out the window the whole ride there, as if she were on her way to the park to play.
I got her there at 10:30AM, and they took her right in - cept she didn't want to leave my side, so I had to lead her into the back. My body could only handle the benches for so long, so by the time mom showed up I was barely able to walk and had to go get in the car and head home right off.
Mom was there until 6pm. It was eventually decided that she had Cancer, and the outlook was bad. They didn't think she'd last much longer without a transfusion, which we sure as hell can't afford. So they brought mom in to see her. Amy was pretty confused, but after a while realized who mom was, went over, tail wagging and sat down between her legs smiling away.
Its hell to put down a dog that you love. They become so much more than just a dog. I remember when I took Zack in to be put down, a dog I had had from the age of about 7 until I was 19 - he was Old but still powerful, he had simply lost his mind and control over his bowels. Even so it took 3 orderlies to hold him down to give him the shot. But he was 12.
Amy was just 8 years old, still spry as a puppy. And to add impact to injury, we KNEW she was sick, that she was going to die that day from blood loss, but she was look at mom as if she was fine, as if they could just go home and everything would be normal.
So here's to you Bear *raises a mug* You were a Wonderful, Loyal friend, and you will be Missed.
Thats the film version of the show I went to last night. The play is quite a bit different, but the same general plot. 2 Friends kill a 3rd friend for the sake of the pure, motiveless, emotionless, perfect crime. One lead is dominant, the other more submissive. They strangle their friend with a rope and stuff his corpse into a chest, then they plan to take his body with them to Grad School to dispose of it - but first they hold a party. They invite their friend's father & aunt, a couple inferior minded friends, and a respected poet/former teacher. They serve dinner on the chest, and of course the whole thing unravels.
I can remember watching the movie at my friend's house last year - probably summer time, or around the time I got home, and his strong decision that this was the next play that he'd put on at the school. So that's what it was.
I can't claim to have seen the whole final product, despite going opening and closing night my body failed me before the final act. Thursday night I came home. Last night I knew there was to be a cast party, so I decided to stick it out and slipped back stage at intermission to find a more comfortable seat. I can't tell you how many shows I have been a part of in that theater, actually to be frank, I probably could if I thought hard enough - I was part of the first show ever held in the blackbox.
This show I only had bits and pieces to do with, I supplied a couple props, donated an electrical plate to the set, and hung out a couple Saturdays on Stage Crew to offer advice when and where needed.
Realistically I had little right to be at the cast party, except that it was held by the director who is one of my best friends, in his house - which I have keys to, and was also attended by a few other close friends, all grads of the same school, all former techies themselves. Actually every guy in the apartment last night was either a SJ student or SJ grad, every single one. Kind of cool. Hell one of the mentioned friends is renting the 1st floor apartment from my friend who owns the two family.
So anyways, I had a great time at the party. Just laughing and talking in my usual way, my usual ease. I was quite pleased to have a chance to interact with one of the cast members in particular, who had asked after my health back stage - and not trusted me for one second as I told him "I'm fine" as I stood there swaying, hahaha, which is fine, I'd not have trusted me either - I know doubt looked like hell and was having trouble hiding the pain, the tell tale sign was one of my hands gripping my ribs. But I'm a tough guy so I sucked it up and helped get the chest we used into the trunk of the Olds so I could return it to my friend's dining room.
The food at the party was excellent, as was the company as I said, and it's the first time I've had a real chance to interact with that dude, who I've been talking to online for ages now. So that was pretty special. Haha he's too young to pursue, but he's cute, has a kick ass personality, and is smart. He'll make someone very happy someday.
At any rate as the night wore on the high schoolers cleared out, and the grads remained. Out came cognac, champaign, and such for the drinkers, and cigars, home rolled cigs, and my pipe - for the smokers. We sat in his living room in high back chairs, and on a 20's couch, feeling like lords of all creation, just chatting about this and that, the old days, the current days, exchanging stories and jokes and laughing until the wee small hours of the morning.
It's funny sometimes thinking back... here I am at 19? probably having just said something amazingly inappropriate about how Ashlie, the girl getting ready to hit me, was dressed. Its probably not hard to figure out the comment. The fellow behind me in the picture was there last night until not long before I left. That was taken at one of those cast parties, probably for Hamlet... orrrr ummmm Becket! I think it was probably Becket!
At any rate, its one of a dozen or so cast parties held in that apartment, some faces change, some remain the same. Thats how it goes.
Anyways, I haven't slept yet, and there is a vicious rumor that I am being dragged coherent or not to a SuperBowl party tonight at 6, incidentally in the apartment below the one I was in last night, with the same faces, as well as a few more old friends - without a doubt all 3 of us guys in the picture I posted will be there.
The Saint Jude pendant is my next tattoo. I can't wear a pendant any longer, nor a cross, because the metal against my skin causes such pain that I can't sleep. One of the ironies of having Fibro I suppose. Haha my faith in God makes no sense, I have been hurt so many times, including in a church, and by a member of the clergy. You would think... and then there are the friends that I have lost. I'm too much of a thinker for religion. And yet I believe, I really do, oh my God to I believe, and I can't shake it.
Saint Jude is the Patron Saint of Lost Causes. My original Pendant was given to me by my friend Sam, who killed himself late night on Feb 3 2006. He died in my arms. He has been weighing on my mind these last couple of weeks. His death changed me. I left the pendant he gave me in PA on my trip to Phoenix, it was a mistake, I took it off for some reason and rode off without it. I can only hope it found someone who needed it as much as I did.
The tattoo is something that I can't take off, can't loose. I don't think I will ever move forward. Saint Jude fits me. It has been 11 years since I left them, and I still can't shake the things that I have done, the things that I have seen. It haunts me, it haunts me like a sickness.
I am having a rough night. Its the things in our lives that shape us. If that is really true, and I think it is.. haha I am so fucked. I am so tired of this fight.
I can remember the days, the days when I used to get my father's gun out and load it, and it would just sit on the table next to me. Sometimes I would hold it in my hand and press it against my forehead and just pray. Pray for a way out of this.
I tried it once when I was 15. I did everything right. I got out his gun, I loaded it. I wrote my parents a 3 page letter and put it on my stack of notebooks. I sat in my room, and I wrapped my head in a towel so that they wouldn't have as much to clean up. I put this song on loop
And then I closed my eyes, I put the barrel of the gun into my mouth. It was a .38 Colt, my grandfather's old Service revolver. One bullet that I had been carrying around with me. I pulled the trigger. Man I tell you time slows down, it all but stops. I won't say your life flashes, but oh my God the sense of Regret. And the gun it didn't go off. And I just sat there and sobbed. I just Sobbed for I don't know how long, it felt like an eternity.
I went back to that gun again and again until I was 18. I never went that far again, but I would load it - with a different bullet - and I would just hold it to my temple. Saint Jude. It was the way out. It was the final solution.
When my father found out I was suicidal, when he found out how close I'd come he did two things. He gave the gun away, and he made me give him my Word that I would not take my life.
I have kept my promise. I almost lost it in Phoenix when I had a gun and bullets for a while. I almost lost it. I had to get rid of the gun. I CANT have access to a gun, its too much temptation. I can't fight that for very long. It is a tool that will get me out of here. A way to end the pain, and you cannot imagine the pain.
SO I gave my word. And then Sam killed himself. Most of the kids I worked with when I was younger are dead. Dad is dead. The people who understood me the most. Who KNEW what I have experienced are all dead and gone.
So what can I do? I won't break my word. No matter how much it HURTS. I used to joke that if I ever killed myself there would be a group of angry family members up in heaven waiting to beat me up. And now my dads up there. MY DAD IS DEAD. I want to SCREAM.
But I have people who love me down here. My mother, my family. Brent is like a brother to me. There are the people I love, and who love me. I can deal with this. I can keep fighting this. This war of attrition. Its like trench warfare. Its like WWI is going on in my skull and at night all the demons come out.
If I am anything. If I am anything at all. I am proof of how much the human mind can take, and keep going. That will be my legacy. How much more is there?
Will I live to be 30 or will I live to be 100?
Sometimes I WISH that people could See it on my face. That I looked as old as I feel. But then I'd look like Brother Plunket. It's too soon for that. I'm not ready to call it a day yet. I am a fighter.
Each of us has some song that really speaks to us. I must have dozens. They range from Paul Simon songs to Tool.
The Song that I found that hits me the hardest, is Woodstock written by Joni Mitchell - and beyond that its the version done by Richard Thompson. He sang this at a JM tribute concert. The Stone Temple Pilots were supposed to come and play, and they missed the show for what ever reason. So they had this Slot to fill, and Richard Thompson just went out on stage and played Woodstock. He sang it so well that JM sat there with her eyes closed gently swaying.
I can listen t this song happy, sad, tired, awake, any mood and it just hits me straight to the soul.
I just got an email from one of my best friends that brought tears to my eyes. It was a reply to one I'd sent him. It's great having friends like that. Someone I can ALWAYS write to when times are tough - someone who will Always read what I write.
Another close friend of mine is thinking about packing up shop and just heading west. He won't do it till Summer time, and I can't really blame him if he does - its something I have often dreamed about if my health were better - just moving around the country like a hermit - working in gas stations and existing. So many people say... Why the hell would you do that? But its an honest way to live. I think he's thinking more of working at camps and such.
In other news its time to start pulling the XS400 together (sick of these posts yet?)
I have 3 "Splurge" parts for it, one I actually need, and then the other two are just, well honest to god modifications for the soul purpose of reshaping the machine.
The first as I've said is a MAC exhaust. The current exhaust is rusting through in certain places and pretty banged up. Almost impossibly so in places, and I fear is loosing a baffle. So the Mac is a 2:1 style and will just work.
The next splurge is a cafe Seat. It also has some minor need. The original seat is pretty worn out and the seat cloth is currently made out of Gorilla tape. This Cafe Seat is quality made at a reasonable price - what some companies charge for just the seat pan. It has a 2" Gel/Foam pad that is rumored to be comfortable even on longer rides. The cover is removable - as in the snaps really are functioning snaps. The Vinyl cover is the same as they use on boats so its good for the weather. All in all very pleasing.
^ Minor adjustments will have to be made to the rear of the bike for this style of seat. Meaning I will have to exchange out the rear fender for something else - luckily I have a solid stock of spare fenders I think what I'll do is cut down a spare front fender (in half) and use it under the tail as a rear fender - to which I can attach a stop light.
The last splurge is really just a splurge. The current tank is ugly, a bit beat up, and rusting in places - but all things considered it's usable. This tank is a bit bigger, won't rust - it comes in black, and if I do paint it, I will probably paint it black, with white pin stripes to match the black in the picture, and then Yamaha decals instead of Norton.
For actual parts that I need to make the bike go Vroom - I need: Rear Brake Shoes $20 Drive Chain parts $40 2 Gaskets $30 10 small metric bolts $12 1 Turnsignal $10 1 Oil filter bolt $9 1 Oil Filter $3 3 Quarts of Oil $15 1 Battery $46 1 Set of front brake Pads $20 Handlebars $15 2 Mirrors $20 2 new Grips $8 Total (ish) $250
I try not to complain. I really do. But man I am sick of this. I am laying here, back propped up against the headboard with pillows to dull the pain, my body is sensitive to the touch, there isn't an inch of me that doesn't hurt - a lot of it is pure agony, I'm shifting my legs about trying to dull the pain with no avail, my arms are growing tired even as I type I can feel the muscles in my lower arms aching with the effort. My eyes feel like they are bleeding, and I have a throbbing headache in my right temple, and there is a pain in my right neck that is piercing. My eyes feel like they are bleeding.
Three more pills. Side effects? Tired. Is sleep possible? No. Not like this.
What did I do in my last life to earn this one?
They say Self Pity does you no good. They are right. They also say what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. I think They are full of shit. Totally full of shit. It's enough to drive a man insane.
I have to go to the vet and pick up meds for the dog today. That should be fun. At least its warm out today. After the last week when it was around single digits, 30 feels like summer time. Still they say that the cold lays waste to the body when you have this, sooooo I am really looking forward to March.
I'm not liking this. Not at all.
Different topic. New House.
Mom thought that perhaps the idea of a 2 family might be a bad one. It could end up (more than likely) raising the cost of heating in the winter time more than we pay now, possibly doubling it, for both of us. Then finding a 2 family like the type we want that isn't beat to shit - in the price range that we want. Now she's been talking about "In Law Apartments" which concern me, not sure why, maybe its just the name and the fact that I've never seen one?
Yesterday she suggested that we could build a garage type apartment or something, so I went hunting about briefly and have decided that I quite like the idea.
I found this, which is pretty general, but suits me to the T (almost)
For one as long as the house has a driveway and a backyard we could put one of these anywhere. So mom doesn't need to make any compromises based on me, with what ever house she wants to live in. My friend Jon offered to build the thing, which would cut costs slightly as well as allow for certain changes. We'd need to either put in a spiral staircase or find some way (invade shop space) of putting that outside stairway inside. We could insulate the hell out of it. Make that "shop" space a bit bigger, or simply use posts instead of a wall so that bikes could be moved into it and such.
I could live in an apartment like this for the rest of my life. The garage would have to be mine, but sure.
Cry Havoc and Let Slip the Dogs of War!
But no, really, I'm a student to be a motorcycle mechanic, I'm 25, I write a lot, I eat less than I should, I sleep less than I should, but I like to get out and live. I don't drink, but I smoke a pipe. My sense of style is at Least 40 years out of date, I am who I am, and That's who I am.
