Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

My Buddy Lee is gonna be on the road at oh-dark-thirty tomorrow morning so we took our final pictures of the Lovely Miss Zukiko this afternoon.  Lee is riding off into the sunset, so to speak, and is pictured taking Miss Z over to the Holiday Inn Express where he's stayin', El Casa Móvil De Pennington bein' too small for the two of us.  Comfortably.  So without further ado... 

 Lee and Miss Z, as configured for the road.

 Same as the first verse, but with helmet.

Ridin' off into the sunset.

I'm gonna miss that girl, even tho I take comfort in the fact she has a good home.

Sigh.

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

And we're bitchin' about The Usual.  Regarde:

Let's just say 94 degrees with 20+ mph winds is a lot like standing in front of God's Own Blow Dryer.  Sayin' "but it's a DRY heat," while true, doesn't do a damned thing to mitigate the impact of direct sun on the side of El Casa Móvil De Pennington.  It goes without sayin' the wind is too high to put my awning down, so we must live with direct sun.  Is my AC workin' overtime?  Why, yes... yes it IS.  It might could be even worse tomorrow, as the forecast is for 101 degrees.  I hope the wind dies down by then.

We were out in this krep a lil earlier, doing a remove and replace operation to fit the Lovely Miss Zukiko with her new stored energy device.  We accomplished that mission but aborted the wash and polish operation that was to follow, given my hair was well and truly dry enough.  Well, sorta, if'n ya don't count the sweat.  I know: TMI.

So now we're indoors... relaxing bein' punished with one of those Punishers I went on about last month and taking long deep swigs from a glass full of smooth and creamy Fransizkaner to take the punishing bite away from the lips.  I'm not the sorta guy who is into anything even remotely resembling BDSM, with the possible exceptions of Thai food, New Mexico chiles, and these Punishers, all three of which hurt SO good.

And so it goes.

Busy Day

We're recently in from running the day's errands... which included a trip out to the Cannon Airplane Patch pharmacy where we had a not-too-pleasant encounter with a female Staff Sergeant who told me a drug that's been prescribed for me for at least three years and which I have obtained from said gub'mint pharmacy during those three years wasn't EVER stocked by them, said encounter resolved in my favor by her quick rather lengthy perusal of my prescription history (thank The Deity At Hand for databases and patient histories)... and then it was on to The Big(ger) City™, where we had our final eye follow up, made a trip to the Suzuki store to get the lovely Miss Zukiko a new battery, and lastly a drop-in at the Top Shop for to order M'Lady a new bonnet and make arrangements to have The Green Hornet's driver seat repaired.  A full day, as it were.  Weeks will go by where the most exciting thing we do in this life is make the journey to Wally-World and then... bang!... stuff happens.

My eye follow-up was prolly the best of all possible worlds, given that my eyes have stabilized at 20/30 (distance) and we are NOT in need of glasses for distance work.  We still need readers (and I bought a spiffy new pair, which look a lot like those at left), but I can live with that.  We also ordered a pair of high-zoot bifocal sunglasses while we were at the optometrist's, the upper half bein' planos and the lower half readers, for to ensure I can read TGH's gauges and odometer and stuff while motoring on down the road at the usual, customary, and reasonable brisk pace.  I could have saved a boat load o' money if I bought those not-sold-in-stores HIGH DEFINITION sunglasses, but... whatever.  I'm thinkin' my optometrist knows more about sunglasses than those carnival barkers.

So now it's Happy Hour and Game Six of the Eastern Conference finals, which JUST started and already the Yzerbolts scored... 36 seconds into the game.

GO BOLTS!!!

A Re-Re-Run

I was answering comments to the Beemer post below when Dan brought up the subject of replacing the Green Hornet and Anon chimed in with a paean to the wonderful Beemer Three Series, a remarkable automachine with which I had some experience in the way-back.  I wrote about it, too, and will now proceed to bore the hell outta ya with yet another re-re-run which first appeared in these pages a lil over four years ago and again last year.  You know how geezers are with their stories...

A Re-Run

So... a friend e-mailed me to inquire if I'd ever posted any pics of P-Ville in the daylight.  I think she was just being subtle and prolly thinks I'm really a vampire... which isn't too far from the truth if one takes my bizarre sleeping habits into account.  But we digress.  I only make very limited use of Blogger's tag feature so finding pics or posts about certain subjects can be time consuming, if I let it be.  It's way too late at this point to go back over 2800+ posts and categorize each and every one (sigh).

But... that said... I stayed up way too late last night and only just poured my second cup.  Which is a left-handed way of saying "I got nuthin'."  At the moment, anyhoo.  But... in searching for daytime P-Ville pics I came across this lil blurb of a war story you may or may not find interesting.  I added the pics... there was a time when we were short on visuals here at EIP.

Just a little quirky thing I meant to blog, but forgot until just now. My new bike (ed: That would be The Zuki... at right... and since replaced) doesn’t have a petcock on its gas tank. This is the very first bike I’ve owned without one, and that fact drove me nuts the day I took delivery…I looked all over the bike for the danged thing and came to the conclusion that it just wasn’t there. The bike does have a gas gauge, though. Petcocks have become an anachronism, I suppose. I’m not sure if this is a good thing, or a bad thing. Oh, and another thing…the bike is fuel-injected. Another first, for me.

While I’m on the subject…taking delivery of the bike was an “interesting” experience. After signing all the paperwork I was accompanied to the service area by the sales manager. She attached the temporary plate to the bike and then watched as I did my walk-around. I checked various nuts and bolts for tightness, inspected the oil filter area for leaks (and tightness), eyeballed the wheel alignment, checked the chain tension…and, to keep the litany down to a manageable level, just performed a general inspection. I only asked one question: “How do I open the seat?” The answer wasn’t obvious, and the sales lady didn’t know. I figured it out, noticing there was a key receptacle just below the tail light. Insert key, twist, seat pops up. Simple. The sales lady thanked me once again for my business and walked away after that, leaving me and my new bike alone together for the first time. I suited up and rode off…

I couldn’t help but contrast this non-ritual with the most amazing delivery experience I ever had, and one that’s not been matched since. That most amazing experience was at BMW’s Delivery Center in Munich. (ed: the Delivery Center wasn't quite so fancy when I picked up my car in 1982)  The Second Mrs. Pennington and I took delivery of a 1983 320i there in the fall of 1982. In Baltic Blue…just like the one at left. Yeah, it looks gray. I thought so, too. But if you've ever seen the Baltic Sea, you understand. Most accurate, those Teutons!

After presenting ourselves at the front desk of the delivery center (where we were signed in), we were escorted into an office where a BMW employee… fluent in English… walked around from behind his desk, introduced himself, and then sat back down behind his desk after we were seated. He verified our identities (passports and other assorted sales and delivery-related papers) and finished processing our paper work. This took all of about 15 minutes and was quite pleasant and efficient. The signing of the paper was concluded with a crisp “So, are you ready to take your new car?” Hell, Yes! Let’s GO!

We were escorted out of his small office and across a rather large area resembling a showroom, with various Beemers sitting around in all their glory. On the far side of the showroom were two sliding glass doors that opened into a spotlessly clean garage area, where our new baby was sitting, along with several other cars. We were met at the door by a middle aged man in a white lab coat. The paper processor introduced us, by name, and informed us Mr. Herr I-Forget-His-Name was going to “introduce” us to our new car.

And introduce us he did. He demonstrated every feature on that car, and I mean every single one…including popping both hood and trunk, showing us where the dipstick was, just to cite one example… demonstrating the oil level was indeed full, in the process. He showed us the fuse box. He showed us the spare, and the jack, and demonstrated how to remove and replace each. He showed us how to tune the flippin’ radio, how to operate the sun roof, adjust the seats…in short, everything imaginable. And then he asked if we had any questions. I had none: the briefing and walk-around, which lasted the better part of 45 minutes, had been more comprehensive than any I’d ever had, before or since. TSMP, honor-bound as she was to never let an opportunity to ask questions pass her by, had a few which were handled politely and with aplomb, even the one or two eye-rollers (on my part and my part alone).

The ritual ended with the signing of a delivery form, we were handed maps and detailed instructions on how to reach the autobahn (after being discreetly asked if we were leaving Munich right away), and we were out the door. Literally, accompanied by hand waves of good-bye and shouted exhortations to “Enjoy your new Beh-Emm-Vay!!” And we did…from that moment on and for ten years hence.

I marveled about that experience for months, if not years. It was extraordinary. And that was for a bottom-of-the-line Beemer. Lord only knows what hoops they jump through if you buy an expensive one… It’s been a while since I thought about that experience, but taking delivery of my bike brought it back into focus. Bright, sharp focus.

Well... I said you MIGHT find this interesting, didn't I?

I published both of these re-runs in the month of April in years past.  There's this Ol' Saw about "Spring... when a young man's fancy turns to love" or sumthin' like that.  Apparently an OLD Man's fancy turns to thoughts of new cars at this particular time, which may or may not be related to love as most people know it.  I think there MIGHT be a connection, yanno? 

Another Rerun

I have to be over in The Big(ger) City™ for an eye-followup in a few and I did that thing I always do, of late: slept too well and too long.  So... there's no time right this moment to make the rounds and dream up some sorta drivel to check the blogging box.

Bob Reese, in comments to yesterday's post about my impending separation from the lovely Miss Zukiko, took issue with my statement that Miss Z and I hadn't really done any traveling together... sayin' "what about that US 550 trip?"  Well, that was on Miss Z's great aunt... the late and not-so-lamented 'Zuki.  The 'Zuki was a much better bike on the open road than Miss Z but she had this unfortunate tendency to fall right over at the most inopportune times... like when people were looking.  But we digress.

Here's what we wrote on the conclusion of that road trip Bob was on about:

Be It Ever So Humble...

…there’s no place like home. I’m there, and it’s an understatement to say I’m pleased. My own bed. My own PC. My own stuff. Getting away is nice, visiting with friends and family is nicer still, but getting back home? Priceless.

I ended as I began, which is to say I covered a whole lotta ground in one sitting. The first day of the trip saw me riding 577.6 miles in 11 hours flat; yesterday I did 591 miles in ten hours and 21 minutes. The difference? Better weather…much better weather. I dodged a bullet, though…a half hour after I got home the frickin’ bottom dropped out and we were inundated with rain. I held my breath, figuratively speaking, for the last 100 miles of the ride. There were HUGE thunderstorms to the east and the south of me as I closed in on P-Town, and it looked like I was gonna be in for it. The gods smiled on me, though, and although I got a smattering or two of rain, it was nothing serious. Fortune, for once, was on MY side.

Oh. Total mileage for the trip: 2267.7 miles. And not even one close call. That last statement just may be the most amazing thing of all.

I only did three things last evening after I got home: returned SN2’s phone call (he rang while I was on the road), took a long hot shower, and fell into bed. And I slept the sleep of the truly exhausted. This morning I feel fine, well-rested, and refreshed. Now I have to get on with life…unpack, pay the bills, and do other assorted things that have gone undone for the past 17 days. Normal blogging, such as it is, will resume tomorrow. In the meantime…

Today’s Pic: The first of perhaps six or eight pics from Arches National Park. I like this particular photo because it shows the scale of the monoliths, which are absolutely HUGE. Note the road winding into the distance and the small dots that are the cars on said road. Riding among, through and between these formations is an awe-inspiring experience.

Saturday, June 2, 2007.

And here's a couple o' shots of my partners in crime... of the flesh and blood and steel varieties:

The first pic is SN1 and SN3, the second pic is YrHmblScrb and SN3.  Both pics were taken in Fort Collins, CO... just prior to our departure for a jaunt out into the Colorado countryside.  That trip wasn't all fun and games, though.  Part of it was Pure Hell (on wheels).

The End of an Era?

My Buddy Lee in Oregon (that's him up top) called a couple o' days ago to let me know he'd be in my neck o' the woods around the end of this month and would be droppin' in for a visit.  It seems like he won an e-Bay bid on a spiffy limited edition Duck... said Duck bein' in Fort Worth, Texas... and he planned to pick it up the end of this month and ride it back to Oregon, by way of P-Ville.  Which is verrah cool, sein' as how Lee and I haven't had a few beers together in almost exactly five years.

But stuff happens.  Lee called the next day and told me the deal fell through, which is a longish story about which I'll spare ya the details, Gentle Reader.  It came to pass that I suggested he should consider buying Miss Zukiko instead, what with she bein' sumthin' of a Poor Man's Ducati and one whole HELLUVA lot cheaper than an SR4S Tricolore.  Well, one thing led to another and it looks like I've sold Miss Zukiko into bondage, the bondage bein' of a consensual and pleasurable sort, of course.

We do have mixed emotions about all this. As I told Lee (excerpts from a recent e-mail):

I feel like one of those heroines in a cheesy romance novel: "Lee!  This is all SO sudden!"

I say that coz I have VERY mixed emotions about selling the bike.  It's been a long, long time since I've been bike-less and you know that "rider" makes up more than a little bit of my personality.  I'm having a hard time letting go.  But I suppose it's time and it makes sense to give Miss Zukiko up to someone who will actually RIDE her... not just pull her cover off, wash her, and stare at her while she dries.  Hell, I never even took her on a decent road trip, so it's not like we made any lasting memories or anything. 

[...]

I think I'll keep my leathers.  You may think I'm weird, but I just MIGHT buy a Can-Am Spyder RS.  I didn't quit riding Miss Zukiko because I don't LIKE riding, I quit riding her because I don't have enough breath to horse her around and the sporting riding position is just too damned hard on my old bod, specifically my wrists and (what's left of) my forearms.  The Spyder has a reverse gear, yanno?  And wouldn't I look cool on one?  Much better than those geezers on Gold Wing trikes, methinks.

So that's the story.  It remains to be seen if I'll actually pull the trigger on one of those Can-Ams... but I HAVE been thinkin' about 'em for a while.  I'll repost that vid:

So it may be the end of an era... but it might could be the beginning of another one.  Or mebbe I'll just buy a new Miata.  Decisions, decisions.

I Technology!

So I saw this ad on teevee last night and I thought "Wow... that's pretty cool!"  I'm talking about this:

Well, I only saw the opening ski sequences on teevee... the full-monty highlight version above (from the web site) has bikini-clad, surfer girl eye-candy (yum!), some motor racing, and aerial sequences that would go over well on teevee, methinks.  But the 30-second or so ski clip on my teevee was enough to pique my curiosity and I went to the GoPro web site to check 'em out, mainly because I invested in a Mino HD camera with an "action mount" two years ago.  More about that in a moment...

So here's a screen shot of one of their less expensive products:

(click for larger)

I'm pretty impressed actually, especially since I went to Amazon to refresh my memory concerning what I paid for my Mino HD a lil over two years ago: $219.92 (the total for the camera, action mount, and cheesy tripod).  The HD Hero 960... which is $40.00 cheaper than my Mino... exceeds the Mino's capacity by an hour and a half (Mino: one hour; Hero: 2.5 hrs), comes bundled with various mounting systems (I paid extra for my "action" mount), and can shoot in 960p while the Mino only shoots 720p.  Now, all that said... keep in mind the Mino was pretty much the only game in town a couple two years ago if ya wanted a handy HD video camera that could shoot "on the go" videos.  Mino has also released its third-generation recorder since I bought mine; a 3G Mino HD has specifications and a price point that are about equal to the Hero 960.

So... if I were to start all over again I'm thinkin' I'd have me one of these Hero 960s.  And as it's said:  I technology!

Oh.  One more thing.  I've used my "action mounted" Mino HD exactly once... to record this lil excursion with the Lovely Miss Zukiko in September of 2009:

You can watch in full screen in 720p (HD) mode but it takes a while to download, even with a two Mbps connection.  Kinda cool, no?

Google Loves Me! Well, Sorta.

Our illustration to yesterday's "Presidents Day" post made the front page of Google's Blog-search function, thusly:

(Click to embiggen)

Yet if you clicked on the "all 41 blogs" link you wouldn't have seen EIP until you got to the bottom of page two.  (sigh)  That's OK... I'm used to conditional love.

BTW: today is Washington's birthday.  And you're prolly at work.

―:☺:―

Completely unrelated to the above, but "interesting," none the less:

I put "interesting" in scare quotes coz while the concept is intellectually stimulating it's also off-putting to those of us who used to live... translated as eat, breathe, and sleep... mo'sickles and kinda-sorta still do, if only vicariously.  Bikes should be fire-breathing manifestations of mechanical soul, not some whirring, whining, eco-nut's wet dream.  Yeah, you can file this in the "get off my lawn" category.

I'm beginning to think I've lived too long.