Monday, May 24, 2010

Biker Boys Be Idiots

Okay, here are the things we're not going to discuss:

(1) the wisdom of driving a motorcycle equipped with twenty-year-old, visibly-rotted tyres on major thoroughfares on a busy weekend afternoon;

(2) the wisdom of driving a beloved motorcycle, on slightly better tyres, in a torrential downpour on Interstate Superhighways on a busy weekend afternoon;

(3) the wisdom of acquiring antique motorcycles whilst professing to be simplifying life and divesting the unnecessary; and

(4) the wisdom of affecting the use of tyres and whilst in an admittedly-American blog.

Those subjects, m'friends, are right of the table.

But I will share a story.

The Mule and Little Johnny Jewel went into a heavily-treed, heavily-fortified forest of a suburban neighbourhood in search of another Mulecycle. The one instruction from a former owner: change tyres before riding. Our mission? Mount me to the Mulecycle and get me to a service bay.

Not very bright. But I digress into "the wisdom". . . .

Anyway, we pull up in a minivan, me adorned with a fluorescent-yellow, multi-reflectored vest and helmet. I approached the front door of the seller with a jaunty step, just to let the kids at home know I was there.

And a suburban housefrau swooped down on us faster than a Phoenix cop, demanding our papers and wanting to know who we were and why we were there. She allowed as to how we could stand right there until she'd made some calls and established what was what.

You know, Little Johnny Jewel may be a foreigner and all, but I just don't think we looked like burglars, what with the minivan and the fluorescent clown suit, and the knocking.

Now I know how Jose, Juan, and Emil feel.

There are a lotta people just dying to arrest their fellow man.

When the teenage girl of the house came to door, yawningly said "oh, you're here about the motorcycle," and gave the neighbour-lady a scowl and a roll o' the eyes, I realized there are also a lotta people like me who don't like the lotta people just dying to arrest their fellow man.

And yeah, I hate neighbourhood associations too.

Gimme a local shithole house, and I'm happier than living in a street where everyone else monitors me and everyone else.


You know, this post has gone WAY off the rails.

Here's a pic o' Little Johnny Jewel tooling the mean streets of Wheaton Duxbury:

click photo to enlarge


Who Am Us Anyway? said...

I can hear the Siren Song from here. Mr. Muleboy.

Come, it says, let us ALL mount to Mulecycles and hasten to our respective service bays. If we should all do that at once, hundreds of thousands of us -- shoulder to shoulder, satchel to paige -- the world would be a better place, and equally important, it would bring the housefrau's nightmare alive -- 'twere best done quickly.

But naturally we can't quite make out the lettering on that (what I am sure is distinctive) green fuel tank. So that sucked me into the internets, looking for what make-o-bike it be, but man, I could not quick-find a photo of anything with that cool 4-pipe chrome front.

What is it, Mr. Mule, what is it??

¡barangus!™ said...

I'm guessing a Suzuki. Maybe a 750.

The Mule has a soft spot for Suzukis.

And Honda thumpers.

Peter Grimes said...

That's a cherry unit.

mister muleboy said...

You know, Who, I appreciate a man who skips over the bullshit in a post to get to the heart of the matter: a beautiful antique motorcycle, lovingly cared for (by someone other than me, who is merciless on his motorcycles before losing them to disregard. . . . but I digress).

Here is my idealized vision of the distinctive green motorcycle featured. 'gus correctly notes that it is a Suzuki, and is indeed a 750. The actual model was an interesting one at a time when the GS was dominating the world's "standard" market for in-line fours. Here is another photo of my bike, as taken by its restorer and seller - the shot is more prosaic, but also more descriptive.

In my original blog post, you are seeing Little Johnny Jewel driving, rather than the Mule.

The Mule had already taken one harrowing drive on THIS (well, actually, an identical bike -- an original '83 with only 3700 miles on it!), and was settling his nerves whilst LJJ had a turn.

Siren sing indeed -- why, your call to action has got me all fired up.

satchel to paige got me, btw, during a drive home, while looking at the ol' iPhone. . . .

mister muleboy said...

Ooooops -- the internet let me down.

HERE is the GS that I drove on a flat, cracked tyre.

For many miles.

Little Johnny Jewel followed behind, alternately laughing and sighing (knowing he'd have to wait for the cops and the guys from the morgue. . . .).

Who Am Us Anyway? said...

Seriously, thanks for the great stats & photos; it's just a flat-out beautiful bike, no way around it.