This is a video I made early this morning about my thoughts about my sexuality, my thoughts on Society, religion, race, and of course a slight ramble about tattoos. But.. the ramble about tattoos is a little over a minute, I NEVER do stuff like this, but I was in the mood to explain my thoughts in a clearer way than txt can ever allow - with txt it is so hard to pass exactly what emotions you are feeling when you write it. Unless you play 3rd person - Jack was giggling, Jack was frustrated with people... you could see the exhaustion as it wore down his face pulling at his eyes leaving creases and shadows... which is not how I write in blogs.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Society
Oh it's a mystery to me.
We have a greed, with which we have agreed...
and you think you have to want more than you need...
until you have it all, you won't be free.
Society, you're a crazy breed.
I hope you're not lonely, without me.
When you want more than you have, you think you need...
and when you think more then you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.
I think I need to find a bigger place...
cause when you have more than you think, you need more space.
Society, you're a crazy breed.
I hope you're not lonely, without me.
Society, crazy indeed...
I hope you're not lonely, without me.
There's those thinkin' more or less, less is more,
but if less is more, how you keepin' score?
It means for every point you make, your level drops.
Kinda like you're startin' from the top...
and you can't do that.
Society, you're a crazy breed.
I hope you're not lonely, without me.
Society, crazy indeed...
I hope you're not lonely, without me
Society, have mercy on me.
I hope you're not angry, if I disagree.
Society, crazy indeed.
I hope you're not lonely...
without me.
This is a song that means so very much to me. The first time I heard it was after pop died. I actually saw the movie Into The Wild with one of my best friend's and his father. I walked into it cold - not knowing what I was about to watch. It moved me to tears, I'm sure thats not rare with that film, but my god.
The song suits me. When I was 7 I wanted to grow up to be a hermit. When I was 13 I wanted to go live in a light house and be a light keeper. When I was 17 I wanted to buy an old Caboose and go live off in the woods by myself - a dream I still sometimes hold.
Now the plan is to live in an apartment I should be getting in the next year and just fill it with books and pictures. To write and try to expand myself as best as I can.
I listened to this song on my ipod in one ear as I tore across the country by myself on my old KZ1000 with all my stuff strapped to the back. It was a month long journey and I spent a lot of time alone. I am good at it.
Society confuses and bewilders me. All the HATE, it just blows your mind. How can anyone really hate another person based on the color of their skin? I mean really? And HOW can you dislike a man or woman because of their sexuality? You get the people raging on about Queers. Well I'm Bi, mostly interested in guys, with a physical attraction to girls (no emotional attachment) but I work on bikes, cars, houses - I'm a regular guy. But someone can hate me because I like guys? There is NO logic to the hate. They hide behind religion. Well I believe in God, I believe in all sorts of things. I've read the bible. There is nothing to support such hate. But Society bands together. Yet they shut their eyes. Blind justice? Really?
Everyone thinks we are so evolved. We still have child pornography. Why? Society... Evolution. Its crazy. We are a stitch in time away from the Romans. We just have computers and cars. The hate hasn't changed. Society is the Mob. Not gangsters, but a Mob of people. I don't fit into this crazyness. I have never felt I belonged a part of it.
I love individuals. My friends. Also people from here, Justin, Gary, others. But Society as a whole? I want nothing to do with it.
Anyways I am going.
*bows*
*exits to stage left*
Saturday, January 30, 2010
my room
Let me try to describe the place where I seem to spend all of my time. That would be my bedroom, my one room, it's big, its cozy, and sometimes it feels like a prison.
Ok so I spend my time on my bed. It is a Queen Size futon that is backed up against a wall, the wall to the room where the boiler is. I have nice sheets, and I sleep on the right hand side if you're sitting up against the back board. I use 2 pillows and one of those pillows with arms and a back when I sit up, but I only sleep with one pillow. My current blankets consist of a sheet, a heat blanket which is almost always on (helps with the pain) and a wool blanket on top. All of this is on my side. On the other side you have a pile of clothes at the base of the bed on the left. I wear these in cycles. I'm a scrub. Right now you have pajamas at the bottom, then a pair of jeans, my Filson wool jacket, a Barbor jacket liner, a couple LL Bean flannel lined canvas shirts, a Filson Wool best, and a pair of OLD LL Bean Wool pants that my father had - it beats long underwear.
As you move closer to me on the bed you get a collapsed pepsi box that I use to insallate the laptop from the blanket. A container that has the remains of dinner, some OLD Sony headphones that my father bought for me when I was 12 (thats 14 years I have been using the same headphones), a couple books, pipe cleaners - then as you come up to arms reach to my left is an ashtray with pipe holders that a friend gave me, its yellow and black shaped like a flat square with a sketch of old sailing ships in the bowl of the tray. There is currently an Owl Shop pipe and a Peterson (made in Dublin) pipe. Then a Hohner Harmonica, some matches, tobacco, medications, and a book.
Off the side of the bed in the actual room now - this is off to my left (we are working off what I can see, back up against the wall) are two doors, regular rectangular doors, one is in the wall I lean on which leads into a larger room with the boiler and a lot of motorcycle parts - it used to contain dad's full metal shop.
The other door which is on the wall parallel to me on the left side leads into the TV room. There is a hamper next to that door (to its right we are going) then a large wooden wardrobe which is where I keep my clothes since there is no closet. To the right of that is a speaker with old projectors on it and a tower speaker comes next, then an old cheap bookcase which has a ton of books, stage crew awards, pictures, keys, hats, and random bits - a piece of the Apollo launch pad given to me by a friend who worked for NASA.
Turn the corner and hanging from the wall up high over the bookcase almost is a punching bag - a speed or rytham bag as you'd call it. This is on the wall opposite me. About a foot and a half to its right is the door that leads to the bathroom and back stairs leading up and out. To the right of the door is a small cabinet that I made into a table that holds about 50 motorcycle magazines from England, and a picture of my father's family. There is a stool with a back in front of it that has books and an ashtray (my grandfather's made for him by a student, it is green and has his initials in it) next to that is an old green chair from a friend's living room with a small cheap leather footrest that currently has a pillow and a 5 disc CD changer on it. To the right of the chair is a trunk full of junk, a white table, and a matching chair.
Turn the corner and you have a large desk like table that isnt that large. It covered in books, there are milk crates on the ground full of notebooks - journals I have kept through the years dating back to when I was 19 (I burned all the journals before that in a failed attempt to escape my past), next to that is an overly built work bench that dad made (or got free with a Shaper) that used a solid core door as the top and deck posts as legs. It has stereo equipment on it, a Crown Amp, an Advent Tuner, a McIntosh Pre-Amp, a Sony Record player, and a tower speaker.
Turn the corner and you are at the wall I am leaning against. There is another box speaker (matching the one next to the wardrobe) with a record box on top - like a book case built for records, it's white and contains maybe 60 records, all which I love. To the right of that and the immidiate right of me is a small side table with a drawer. It has a lamp and a rotary telephone on it. Has my testosterone gel in the drawer and about 100 empty pepsi cans scattered around it.
The joy of the idea of an apartment again is that I can spread out. I'll have laundry machines and a sink to wash the cans. A place to cook food and bake my dad's bread. A place to sleep that is separate from where I drink my soda and listen to my music. The green chairs can go into the living room and I can have a small table in the dining room where I can eat and read.
What I haven't described to you is the pictures. I have several hundred pictures on my walls.
That's one of my best friends. But you can see the pictures behind him. They rise up all the way to the ceiling and cover pretty much every available inch of the walls. They rap around to the wall with the stereo, they surround the wardrobe and bookcase, and the wall immidiately behind me shows no plaster. They even decorate the doors.
There are pictures of my heroes, my father (my hero), friends, motorcycles, comics, actors, Ted Kennedy, me, bands, family, song lyrics, signs, magazine articles. Anything that has peaked my interest in the last few years is on these walls. I do it where ever I move. In Ohio, in Vermont, Phoenix was a masterpiece, my bedroom on Morningside Road - they all have had this.
I am not sure where in my apartment. It will probably start in my bedroom. I may contain it to my bedroom and workout/office/library (if we get a 2 bedroom place). What does not excite me about moving is that when I put up pictures I always put them up as if we are never leaving. As if I am never leaving. So taking them down will sacrifice a few. Thats hard to swallow, and with the pain in my hands it might take a week to get these all down..
But ya, that's my room, this is where I type, read, surf the web, sleep, smoke, and just flat out exist. I promise that where ever you are right now, there is a very solid chance that I am here. I'm not complaining, I'm not bitter, but that is just how it is.
Ok so I spend my time on my bed. It is a Queen Size futon that is backed up against a wall, the wall to the room where the boiler is. I have nice sheets, and I sleep on the right hand side if you're sitting up against the back board. I use 2 pillows and one of those pillows with arms and a back when I sit up, but I only sleep with one pillow. My current blankets consist of a sheet, a heat blanket which is almost always on (helps with the pain) and a wool blanket on top. All of this is on my side. On the other side you have a pile of clothes at the base of the bed on the left. I wear these in cycles. I'm a scrub. Right now you have pajamas at the bottom, then a pair of jeans, my Filson wool jacket, a Barbor jacket liner, a couple LL Bean flannel lined canvas shirts, a Filson Wool best, and a pair of OLD LL Bean Wool pants that my father had - it beats long underwear.
As you move closer to me on the bed you get a collapsed pepsi box that I use to insallate the laptop from the blanket. A container that has the remains of dinner, some OLD Sony headphones that my father bought for me when I was 12 (thats 14 years I have been using the same headphones), a couple books, pipe cleaners - then as you come up to arms reach to my left is an ashtray with pipe holders that a friend gave me, its yellow and black shaped like a flat square with a sketch of old sailing ships in the bowl of the tray. There is currently an Owl Shop pipe and a Peterson (made in Dublin) pipe. Then a Hohner Harmonica, some matches, tobacco, medications, and a book.
Off the side of the bed in the actual room now - this is off to my left (we are working off what I can see, back up against the wall) are two doors, regular rectangular doors, one is in the wall I lean on which leads into a larger room with the boiler and a lot of motorcycle parts - it used to contain dad's full metal shop.
The other door which is on the wall parallel to me on the left side leads into the TV room. There is a hamper next to that door (to its right we are going) then a large wooden wardrobe which is where I keep my clothes since there is no closet. To the right of that is a speaker with old projectors on it and a tower speaker comes next, then an old cheap bookcase which has a ton of books, stage crew awards, pictures, keys, hats, and random bits - a piece of the Apollo launch pad given to me by a friend who worked for NASA.
Turn the corner and hanging from the wall up high over the bookcase almost is a punching bag - a speed or rytham bag as you'd call it. This is on the wall opposite me. About a foot and a half to its right is the door that leads to the bathroom and back stairs leading up and out. To the right of the door is a small cabinet that I made into a table that holds about 50 motorcycle magazines from England, and a picture of my father's family. There is a stool with a back in front of it that has books and an ashtray (my grandfather's made for him by a student, it is green and has his initials in it) next to that is an old green chair from a friend's living room with a small cheap leather footrest that currently has a pillow and a 5 disc CD changer on it. To the right of the chair is a trunk full of junk, a white table, and a matching chair.
Turn the corner and you have a large desk like table that isnt that large. It covered in books, there are milk crates on the ground full of notebooks - journals I have kept through the years dating back to when I was 19 (I burned all the journals before that in a failed attempt to escape my past), next to that is an overly built work bench that dad made (or got free with a Shaper) that used a solid core door as the top and deck posts as legs. It has stereo equipment on it, a Crown Amp, an Advent Tuner, a McIntosh Pre-Amp, a Sony Record player, and a tower speaker.
Turn the corner and you are at the wall I am leaning against. There is another box speaker (matching the one next to the wardrobe) with a record box on top - like a book case built for records, it's white and contains maybe 60 records, all which I love. To the right of that and the immidiate right of me is a small side table with a drawer. It has a lamp and a rotary telephone on it. Has my testosterone gel in the drawer and about 100 empty pepsi cans scattered around it.
The joy of the idea of an apartment again is that I can spread out. I'll have laundry machines and a sink to wash the cans. A place to cook food and bake my dad's bread. A place to sleep that is separate from where I drink my soda and listen to my music. The green chairs can go into the living room and I can have a small table in the dining room where I can eat and read.
What I haven't described to you is the pictures. I have several hundred pictures on my walls.
That's one of my best friends. But you can see the pictures behind him. They rise up all the way to the ceiling and cover pretty much every available inch of the walls. They rap around to the wall with the stereo, they surround the wardrobe and bookcase, and the wall immidiately behind me shows no plaster. They even decorate the doors.
There are pictures of my heroes, my father (my hero), friends, motorcycles, comics, actors, Ted Kennedy, me, bands, family, song lyrics, signs, magazine articles. Anything that has peaked my interest in the last few years is on these walls. I do it where ever I move. In Ohio, in Vermont, Phoenix was a masterpiece, my bedroom on Morningside Road - they all have had this.
I am not sure where in my apartment. It will probably start in my bedroom. I may contain it to my bedroom and workout/office/library (if we get a 2 bedroom place). What does not excite me about moving is that when I put up pictures I always put them up as if we are never leaving. As if I am never leaving. So taking them down will sacrifice a few. Thats hard to swallow, and with the pain in my hands it might take a week to get these all down..
But ya, that's my room, this is where I type, read, surf the web, sleep, smoke, and just flat out exist. I promise that where ever you are right now, there is a very solid chance that I am here. I'm not complaining, I'm not bitter, but that is just how it is.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Ho Hum
Well I'm writing again. And for the first time in a while reading a book I've never read before. The book is "In the Heart of the Sea" by Nathaniel Philbrick which a friend loaned me. The writing, well, we'll see how that goes before I ever think to post any of it. That is how it goes with me.
A friend, Paul W left a Birthday present for me at my friend John's house. A pipe Holder/Tobacco Container. I had one in Phoenix that I paid $10 for new. This one is probably 50 years old at least, one solid clay piece, has a painting of a Civil War battle round the pot which sits inside (its a cylinder with pipe racks round the outer edge) and then the pot is actually rubber sealed. Now the one in Phoenix had a cork lining and cork on the cover - so the tobacco would be dry and brittle in 3 days time. This one will actually keep it the way you put it in.
I think that molar that cracked in half in Phoenix - the one were I pulled out the broken half with pliers (who says I don't have a high pain tolerance?) is finally going to need some work. I am not looking forward to seeing a dentist again, its been a couple years. Now I can see you all shuddering, but listen, my last scheduled appointment was just after dad died, and then when I got to Phoenix and planned to get a dentist I lost my health care. SO I kind of let it slide. Well now I'm starting to get a dull ache, soooo I will make an appointment at some point when the dull ache gets a little less dull, and go from there. I have a feeling that it's going to be a blood bath, so I'm not overly looking forward to it. At this point it's going to hurt like hell no matter when I do it, so I might as well wait a bit longer. I say this because there is not enough of a tooth to grab ahold of to pull out. So I can only imagine how they would go about extracting it *shudders*
Had a bit of a scare today. I came home to an email from a friend saying "______'s Dad died" and went into scramble mode, as you have to be a solid friend when that happens, and the one son is my age, and the other son is a couple years younger than me - so it was like "OH SHIT!" I got a bit confused when his best friend didn't know what I was talking about, and then later discovered through a the father's FB page that he was in fact NOT dead, that the grand father was dead. I was quite relieved, and saddened that a grand father had passed away, but mostly relieved. Its one thing to loose your grandfather, and another to loose your father. I can say that with a clear conscience because I have lost both.
This:
Is one of the instant parts for the XS400. The first string of parts will include the above, as well as an oil filter bolt, oil filter, battery, oil, some gaskets, a chain, and a turn signal.
The idea behind the new exhaust system is the sheer fact that the current one is worn out. The union pipe that runs under the bike has holes, the lower head pipes have holes, the mufflers have holes and dents, and are bent where you mount them which adds extra fun to the equation.
So that's always good. With those parts the bike should go together easy enough, should pass inspection, and should be safe and reliable.
There is also a plan in progress to go down to Atlanta around April to visit my buddy Cam when he gets out of prison. Zach - another friend of mine who lives in or near Dallas will meet me there. The three of us were really quite close friends in Phoenix, and they are both guys I hope to be friends with for the rest of my life.
Anyways thats it for me today. I'm going to read a bit, take a bath, and just enjoy my night.
OH! Disability finally went through!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! First check in 10 days. Thank God.
A friend, Paul W left a Birthday present for me at my friend John's house. A pipe Holder/Tobacco Container. I had one in Phoenix that I paid $10 for new. This one is probably 50 years old at least, one solid clay piece, has a painting of a Civil War battle round the pot which sits inside (its a cylinder with pipe racks round the outer edge) and then the pot is actually rubber sealed. Now the one in Phoenix had a cork lining and cork on the cover - so the tobacco would be dry and brittle in 3 days time. This one will actually keep it the way you put it in.
I think that molar that cracked in half in Phoenix - the one were I pulled out the broken half with pliers (who says I don't have a high pain tolerance?) is finally going to need some work. I am not looking forward to seeing a dentist again, its been a couple years. Now I can see you all shuddering, but listen, my last scheduled appointment was just after dad died, and then when I got to Phoenix and planned to get a dentist I lost my health care. SO I kind of let it slide. Well now I'm starting to get a dull ache, soooo I will make an appointment at some point when the dull ache gets a little less dull, and go from there. I have a feeling that it's going to be a blood bath, so I'm not overly looking forward to it. At this point it's going to hurt like hell no matter when I do it, so I might as well wait a bit longer. I say this because there is not enough of a tooth to grab ahold of to pull out. So I can only imagine how they would go about extracting it *shudders*
Had a bit of a scare today. I came home to an email from a friend saying "______'s Dad died" and went into scramble mode, as you have to be a solid friend when that happens, and the one son is my age, and the other son is a couple years younger than me - so it was like "OH SHIT!" I got a bit confused when his best friend didn't know what I was talking about, and then later discovered through a the father's FB page that he was in fact NOT dead, that the grand father was dead. I was quite relieved, and saddened that a grand father had passed away, but mostly relieved. Its one thing to loose your grandfather, and another to loose your father. I can say that with a clear conscience because I have lost both.
This:
Is one of the instant parts for the XS400. The first string of parts will include the above, as well as an oil filter bolt, oil filter, battery, oil, some gaskets, a chain, and a turn signal.
The idea behind the new exhaust system is the sheer fact that the current one is worn out. The union pipe that runs under the bike has holes, the lower head pipes have holes, the mufflers have holes and dents, and are bent where you mount them which adds extra fun to the equation.
So that's always good. With those parts the bike should go together easy enough, should pass inspection, and should be safe and reliable.
There is also a plan in progress to go down to Atlanta around April to visit my buddy Cam when he gets out of prison. Zach - another friend of mine who lives in or near Dallas will meet me there. The three of us were really quite close friends in Phoenix, and they are both guys I hope to be friends with for the rest of my life.
Anyways thats it for me today. I'm going to read a bit, take a bath, and just enjoy my night.
OH! Disability finally went through!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! First check in 10 days. Thank God.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Short & Sweet
Well its 2:25PM, and I really should be getting dressed. I'm out of tobacco so a run to the Owl Shop is in order. Then after that a run to the Doctor's office, and after that, well, I have to go to Saint John's to join my friend John and hang out for the rehersals to his newest show - which is really coming together.
I donno I gotta get cleaned up. Back later.
I donno I gotta get cleaned up. Back later.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
House & Heavy Thinking
This is why I love the show House. Right here. This picture sums up most of it. The picture is a screenshot after House learns he has pretty much destroyed some guy's life. Now, you look at Hugh Laurie and you see his eyes. There are a lot of actors who can look pained, but their eyes don't sell it. This is where it's different. The look in his eyes is absolutely pure pain and stunned realization of what's been done. That is talent you normally see on the Silver Screen, not the Boob Tube.
Now that's not the only reason. I feel I share a lot of things with the character. The physical pain. Having been abused. Being bitter. Trying to get past things. Now I'm not a brilliant doctor. I never had a long term drug problem.
I have been through a lot in my life. Un-imagineable things. I was abused, I was raped, I did hard core drugs (needles) when I was 15. I through some stroke of luck didn't have any issues with the fact that I like guys more than girls. I pretty much have always accepted that - maybe a credit to the house I grew up in, knowing I had two gay aunts from a young age, and that my god father is gay. *laughs* My father's first wife (marriage only lasted a year) was a bisexual stripper. But... I have seen and experienced things that to this day send chills down my spine and wake me from sleep in a cold sweat. To this day I have extreme difficulties hugging guys or girls who are not blood relatives, and it took my father's death to be able to hug my family.
This isn't self pity. It's just I am sitting here alone in the basement, awake, after another nightmare at four o'clock in the morning. There is a very real possibility that I will never be able to have a relationship with a guy again, and it's been 10 years, we are rolling heavily towards 11 years since I have had any sort of intimacy with another guy. Now I hear guys who are 18 who say "well I got you beat, I've never been with a guy" but I know that they will, and I also know that they don't know exactly what they are missing. I'm not jealous of people who can experience what I can't right now. But sometimes I get a little bitter. It's not my nature to be bitter, I am almost always smiling, I can't stay mad at people for more than a few minutes - unless they have Really fucked with me.
We are coming up on two dates that really mean a lot to me - and for very different reasons. On Feb 4 is my best friend's birthday. On Feb 3 is the anniversary of Sam's death. Technically they could both be Feb 4 -- but I choose Not to see it that way.
Sam was the fountain of hope for all of us, those of us who were involved in what we were. Adam died first, but none of us mourned his passing. In a way he was dead to me long before then. He was my first and only boyfriend, we dated for over a year, and I loved him very very much. He is also a very strong reason why my life is so fucked up, and at the time of his death he was trying to blackmail me.
But Sam - Oh Sam. Sam was different. He was very young when I first met him. I was 14 and he was 9 - and he was already involved. I am still unclear as to how he managed to get away from it, his father was pretty powerful - but a drunk. It doesn't matter.
Sam got out and got clean when he was 15. He had seen so much more than I had. Father Bruce (never met him) said that what we experienced, he described kids who went through it, the phrase was "Seeing the Elephant" and man Sam saw the Elephant.
And yet he got away. He started working hard in school. He put on muscle, he started playing lacrosse. Ie was kicked out of his house at 16, but he didn't stop school - he had dreams and ambitions, he was going to become a shrink and help kids who had been abused. He worked hard as hell. He sold drugs to pay for the apartment which he shared with another guy, whom he loved, but frankly was a degenerate fuck up 19 year old.
Sam was like the guiding light. He and my friend Sean kept tabs on all of us. He was someone I'd hoped to someday introduce to my new friends (who are now all old reliable friends).
I won't go into it, not tonight, not in depth, but on Feb 3 really late at night in 2006 Sam overdosed on painkillers and died in my arms. I will never shake that night out of my head.
After Sam died, the group began to drop like flies. Nick was next, then Kevin, Tim, Frank, Mark, Tom...
This is an old list I wrote up, its not up to date because its an old picture, but the wreckage, the result of what we went through is very apparent
I'm indifferent tonight. I'm not sad. I'm not angry. This is just the stuff rattling in my head as I watch "House" and try to forget the dream I had, a dream that has haunted me for over 14 years.
I can remember Kyle trying to comfort me when I accidentally mixed some meds one year and had a waking dream (I was hallucinating) at a party, he and who ever else was there saw my deepest fears that night, and he worked hard to protect me from the ghosts of my past. I will never forget that.
Ok. I'm starting to tear up, so I'm done.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Motorcycle Talk
I have one of these, it is a 1982 Yamaha XJ400.
It is all in all a fairly ugly machine, though very functional. It has a mono shock in the rear and tall front forks. A solid 6" drum brake in the back, and a pathetic single piston disc brake in the front. The styling was an attempt at the American market. The engine is a 400cc that outputs about 45HP. She apparently handles very well, and gets good gas millage.
Mine is a bit worse for wear. It needs oil, a new oil bolt, the mufflers are pretty beat up and rotting through at the balance pipe, the carbs may need a bit of work. Needs new tires, and the drive chain needs replaced.
Might need a new battery.
So here's the lists.
New Battery $45
New Blinker $10
2 Mirrors $24
Rear Brake Shoes $20
Front Brake Pads $16
Chain $95
Front Sprocket (with Bolts) 21
Oil Bolt $9
Oil Filter $7
European Handlebars $15 (why not while I'm fixing the regular stuff)
Total: $250ish
Then if we want to dream a bit later on (prices are estimates that are all over)
Exhaust $250
Gas Tank $350
Seat $150
Rear Sets $100
Clip Ons $60
Headlight Ears $40
Total $950
So for about $300 I can have it back to fully happy working order, and for an extra $1000 I can have it look something like this:
The overall Idea is to eventually have a true Cafe Racer. Not like the one's my father's generation (now) throws $10,000 into a restored 60's Norton - getting the bike they dreamed of when they were my age. But instead to end up with the bike they'd have built using what they had when they were my age.
The end result is something I can be proud of and "ride the piss out of" to use a Dad expression. And to further it a cycle, the tank and seat would be re-usable on the Norton chassis I have (or many Jap frames), so their higher cost evens out if/when the XS400 engine bites the dust.
MOST likely I'll put $300 into the bike to make it roadworthy and stop.
Oh one other plan is to swop the front forks on the XJ and the GS which will lower the XJ front end about 1" and give me a better disc brake. Then to use one of my Hagon or Shrouded shocks to replace the monoshock (which will lower the rear about 1" and replace the worn out rear suspension.
It is all in all a fairly ugly machine, though very functional. It has a mono shock in the rear and tall front forks. A solid 6" drum brake in the back, and a pathetic single piston disc brake in the front. The styling was an attempt at the American market. The engine is a 400cc that outputs about 45HP. She apparently handles very well, and gets good gas millage.
Mine is a bit worse for wear. It needs oil, a new oil bolt, the mufflers are pretty beat up and rotting through at the balance pipe, the carbs may need a bit of work. Needs new tires, and the drive chain needs replaced.
Might need a new battery.
So here's the lists.
New Battery $45
New Blinker $10
2 Mirrors $24
Rear Brake Shoes $20
Front Brake Pads $16
Chain $95
Front Sprocket (with Bolts) 21
Oil Bolt $9
Oil Filter $7
European Handlebars $15 (why not while I'm fixing the regular stuff)
Total: $250ish
Then if we want to dream a bit later on (prices are estimates that are all over)
Exhaust $250
Gas Tank $350
Seat $150
Rear Sets $100
Clip Ons $60
Headlight Ears $40
Total $950
So for about $300 I can have it back to fully happy working order, and for an extra $1000 I can have it look something like this:
The overall Idea is to eventually have a true Cafe Racer. Not like the one's my father's generation (now) throws $10,000 into a restored 60's Norton - getting the bike they dreamed of when they were my age. But instead to end up with the bike they'd have built using what they had when they were my age.
The end result is something I can be proud of and "ride the piss out of" to use a Dad expression. And to further it a cycle, the tank and seat would be re-usable on the Norton chassis I have (or many Jap frames), so their higher cost evens out if/when the XS400 engine bites the dust.
MOST likely I'll put $300 into the bike to make it roadworthy and stop.
Oh one other plan is to swop the front forks on the XJ and the GS which will lower the XJ front end about 1" and give me a better disc brake. Then to use one of my Hagon or Shrouded shocks to replace the monoshock (which will lower the rear about 1" and replace the worn out rear suspension.
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About Me
- Jack Greenman
- 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.