I can see! (Long update)
Pix dropped off his spare monitor this evening, so I'm free to view and enjoy my computer's shortcomings firsthand once again. Rants and raves you may have missed include:
This past Saturday night I saw Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=29037295 at the Apollo. It was freaking awesome! I have seen hundreds of live shows in my life and this show was definitely in the top five, if not number one. Sharon is always amazing, the ever-so-tight eight-piece Dap Kings were joined by a four-piece string section, three backup singer/go-go dancers, and the James Brownian singer Lee Fields. The Soul and joy and energy filling the room did the legacy of that hallowed hall sweet justice. Close your eyes and it could have been 40 years ago.
This was originally going to be a Soul Merchants field trip of sorts, with Brad, J and Jake rounding out the foursome. By Saturday afternoon, Brad's girlfriend Carolyn had taken J's spot and we had lost Jake to a work emergency. I ended up selling the extra ticket to a cute young woman with an accent in front of the Apollo. Reserved seating meant we sat next to each other for the show, which wasn't a bad thing. She was a German woman from Munich, living and working in NYC for the past few months after a stretch in London. She was headed for San Francisco next. I invited her and her friend (another young woman who had sat elsewhere during the show) to join our little group for coffee or a drink after the show, but the friend nixed the idea. We bid our smiling goodbyes and followed our respective friends in different directions without exchanging contact info, to my mild disappointment. It's not that I was looking for a hook-up or anything like that, but another conversation or two could have been nice. The part that was nice was that I met and hung out with someone intelligent and interesting for a few hours and it went well. She had things to say that held my attention and the the reverse seemed to be true as well, as observed by Brad and Carolyn. I have been especially withdrawn and self-conscious of late, so this simple interaction had the power to put a spring in my step.
It amuses the hell out of me that I went to a soul show at the Apollo theater in Harlem and met a blond-haired German woman.
This year has shown me that every awesome thing has its price. In this case, the return trip to New Haven was the payback for the wonderful show. We missed the 11:32 train by about 20 seconds. The next train was the 12:32, which was nearly an hour late. We got back to Brad' place sometime after 3 AM and I slammed my left hand in the passenger door of Brad's Falcon as I got out. My thumb had already swelled to about 130% of its original size by the time I got into the house. My thumb went from opposable to something akin to an opposition leader in nothing flat. I iced it, laid down and slept like a baby for four hours.
On Sunday, I stubbornly held on to my original plan to go to the Larz Anderson Classic European bike day in Brookline, though I left Hartford about four hours late. There were some absolutely beautiful old bikes there. I spoke to another R80st owner for a while and I got a nice pair of gloves from the Vanson leather closeout bin before leaving late in the afternoon, feeling chilly and drained. A thrift store stop for additional clothing took care of the chilly part, while a leisurely dinner stop helped me feel a bit better before tackling the trip home.
I got caught in stop-and-go traffic on the Mass Pike, which inherently sucks, but reaches a new level of unpleasant when riding a motorcycle 14 hours after slamming your clutch-operating hand in a car door. The bike was getting a tad hot to boot, so I pulled over at the crest of a hill and began a series consisting of killing the engine, coasting downhill for a while, starting the engine, riding slowly up the next hill on the shoulder, and repeating the process. After a few hills, I was in a better mood, the engine had cooled noticeably, and traffic began to move again. I jumped off the Pike and took 395 to Route 44 for the last leg of the trip. This was mostly very nice with one exception.
Somewhere between Putnam and Mansfield on 44, an eastbound driver elected to make a sharp left in front of me. I was doing the speed limit, 45 or 50mph westbound and had to full-on hard brake, which didn't go as smoothly as it could have. I locked the rear wheel and fought the resulting tail-wagging skid through the tidy gap between the oncoming traffic lane and this moron's right rear quarter panel. I managed to stabilize the bike and continue on my way in the proper lane without stopping, stalling or crashing while the errant driver sped up the side road without slowing. I pulled over at a nearby diner moments later, gave earnest thanks for my safety and dragged my shaking self inside for a hot cocoa. Things I learned, in no particular order:
1) I need a better front brake setup. BMWs of this era with a single front disk are known for their lackluster, drum-brake-like stopping power. I have already researched some bolt-on mods and will try to have something ready to install before next spring.
2) I need more practice. I have been consciously reducing my rear brake usage in "normal" riding situations, but that rear wheel lockup shows that my gut panic instinct still favors the rear brake too much. I've been meaning to take another MSF rider course for a while now (as it's been at least a dozen years since I took one), so I will make an effort to sign up soon.
3) I need to go easy on myself. Riding 250 miles the day after a late night was not a smart decision on my part. I've been having such shitty weeks of late that I'm loath to surrender any free time to simply resting. The joy and adrenaline of bike and music aided escapism can lift and sustain me for a while, but it's NOT REST and it can run out abruptly. This could only detract from my alertness and reaction time by mile 225 on Sunday night.
On a similar note, I'm very tired and need to go to bed now.
This past Saturday night I saw Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=29037295 at the Apollo. It was freaking awesome! I have seen hundreds of live shows in my life and this show was definitely in the top five, if not number one. Sharon is always amazing, the ever-so-tight eight-piece Dap Kings were joined by a four-piece string section, three backup singer/go-go dancers, and the James Brownian singer Lee Fields. The Soul and joy and energy filling the room did the legacy of that hallowed hall sweet justice. Close your eyes and it could have been 40 years ago.
This was originally going to be a Soul Merchants field trip of sorts, with Brad, J and Jake rounding out the foursome. By Saturday afternoon, Brad's girlfriend Carolyn had taken J's spot and we had lost Jake to a work emergency. I ended up selling the extra ticket to a cute young woman with an accent in front of the Apollo. Reserved seating meant we sat next to each other for the show, which wasn't a bad thing. She was a German woman from Munich, living and working in NYC for the past few months after a stretch in London. She was headed for San Francisco next. I invited her and her friend (another young woman who had sat elsewhere during the show) to join our little group for coffee or a drink after the show, but the friend nixed the idea. We bid our smiling goodbyes and followed our respective friends in different directions without exchanging contact info, to my mild disappointment. It's not that I was looking for a hook-up or anything like that, but another conversation or two could have been nice. The part that was nice was that I met and hung out with someone intelligent and interesting for a few hours and it went well. She had things to say that held my attention and the the reverse seemed to be true as well, as observed by Brad and Carolyn. I have been especially withdrawn and self-conscious of late, so this simple interaction had the power to put a spring in my step.
It amuses the hell out of me that I went to a soul show at the Apollo theater in Harlem and met a blond-haired German woman.
This year has shown me that every awesome thing has its price. In this case, the return trip to New Haven was the payback for the wonderful show. We missed the 11:32 train by about 20 seconds. The next train was the 12:32, which was nearly an hour late. We got back to Brad' place sometime after 3 AM and I slammed my left hand in the passenger door of Brad's Falcon as I got out. My thumb had already swelled to about 130% of its original size by the time I got into the house. My thumb went from opposable to something akin to an opposition leader in nothing flat. I iced it, laid down and slept like a baby for four hours.
On Sunday, I stubbornly held on to my original plan to go to the Larz Anderson Classic European bike day in Brookline, though I left Hartford about four hours late. There were some absolutely beautiful old bikes there. I spoke to another R80st owner for a while and I got a nice pair of gloves from the Vanson leather closeout bin before leaving late in the afternoon, feeling chilly and drained. A thrift store stop for additional clothing took care of the chilly part, while a leisurely dinner stop helped me feel a bit better before tackling the trip home.
I got caught in stop-and-go traffic on the Mass Pike, which inherently sucks, but reaches a new level of unpleasant when riding a motorcycle 14 hours after slamming your clutch-operating hand in a car door. The bike was getting a tad hot to boot, so I pulled over at the crest of a hill and began a series consisting of killing the engine, coasting downhill for a while, starting the engine, riding slowly up the next hill on the shoulder, and repeating the process. After a few hills, I was in a better mood, the engine had cooled noticeably, and traffic began to move again. I jumped off the Pike and took 395 to Route 44 for the last leg of the trip. This was mostly very nice with one exception.
Somewhere between Putnam and Mansfield on 44, an eastbound driver elected to make a sharp left in front of me. I was doing the speed limit, 45 or 50mph westbound and had to full-on hard brake, which didn't go as smoothly as it could have. I locked the rear wheel and fought the resulting tail-wagging skid through the tidy gap between the oncoming traffic lane and this moron's right rear quarter panel. I managed to stabilize the bike and continue on my way in the proper lane without stopping, stalling or crashing while the errant driver sped up the side road without slowing. I pulled over at a nearby diner moments later, gave earnest thanks for my safety and dragged my shaking self inside for a hot cocoa. Things I learned, in no particular order:
1) I need a better front brake setup. BMWs of this era with a single front disk are known for their lackluster, drum-brake-like stopping power. I have already researched some bolt-on mods and will try to have something ready to install before next spring.
2) I need more practice. I have been consciously reducing my rear brake usage in "normal" riding situations, but that rear wheel lockup shows that my gut panic instinct still favors the rear brake too much. I've been meaning to take another MSF rider course for a while now (as it's been at least a dozen years since I took one), so I will make an effort to sign up soon.
3) I need to go easy on myself. Riding 250 miles the day after a late night was not a smart decision on my part. I've been having such shitty weeks of late that I'm loath to surrender any free time to simply resting. The joy and adrenaline of bike and music aided escapism can lift and sustain me for a while, but it's NOT REST and it can run out abruptly. This could only detract from my alertness and reaction time by mile 225 on Sunday night.
On a similar note, I'm very tired and need to go to bed now.