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| Randy Terry (R_terry)
Registered Member Username: R_terry Post Number: 4 Registered: 11-2006 Posted From: 207.230.144.240 Rating: |
ChuckMC9, you are correct! I am WAY overdue. Thank you for your inspirational nudge. Your comments are greatly appreciated. This one is for you. Enjoy. (Roddymc8, it was stolen. Thank you, I am grateful for your comments, too.) ------------ The other day, I was stretched out on the bed marveling at the peculiar nature of my living arrangement. On the inside, it looks entirely like an oblong apartment. That’s because on the outside it looks entirely like a 1955 Greyhound bus. To most people, that would be peculiar. Up front is the Wide-Screen LCD TV and its compliment of components: DVD player, VCR, and theater-quality Surround Sound from an assortment of Hi-Fi speakers (not the little Sony variety) and two sub-woofers. Of course, there’s the couch that converts into a bed, and two swivel reclining chairs with separate matching foot rests. In the kitchen is the obligatory microwave, a pizza-sized convection oven, the refrigerator/freezer, and various electric appliances such as a rotary meat slicer, a George Forman grill, Turbo cooker, waffle iron, electric skillets, popcorn popper, and a dual hotplate. No stove. The almost typical bath that consists of a shower, RV toilet, and pedestal sink is almost typical because the shower is barely big enough for a small child. It’s maddening to have a plastic curtain sticking to you all the time you’re showering. You get in as a dirty sane person and come out as a clean crazy person. In the back are sleeping accommodations for two people on twin beds, but not set up in the usual configuration. Below the upper twin bunk along the driver’s side windows is the Mac computer workstation. My bed lies across the back of the bus on the engine compartment bench. And, in the more usual fashion, that being typical American over-indulgence, is another TV, DVD player and VCR. Ok, I admit that there really are yet two more TVs in the bus and another DVD player, but that’s just between us. Circuit City loves me. So, for all intents and purposes—practically speaking, that is—, I live in an apartment. An oblong apartment. The difference is—and this is important—, I can start my apartment and drive it away, something most apartment dwellers would be extremely hard-pressed to do. And therein lies the “Fun Factor”. But not so fast, Butch Cassidy! The get up and go simply hasn’t gotten up and gone for several years. And the main reason for this is because the bus has turned into…an APARTMENT! Oh my god! Well… that pretty much screws up the fun factor side of it. Not to worry. For some time now, my Suzuki GS750 motorcycle sitting on the patio next to the bus has done its waning best to alleviate that problem. For my purposes, it always has the capability of going faster than I ever need to go—and a few times I had to find out if that was true (I’m a man, what do you expect?). Well, it is. WAY faster than I ever need to go! I have genuinely loved that bike from mile one, and after more than 55,000 miles on every imaginable kind of road, it still runs as well, rides as well, and remains as reliable as the even-mannered, super-fast machine I grabbed off the showroom floor 29-years ago. (I bet you can’t say that about your AMC Pacer!) So one day a friend of mine who had just upgraded from a Honda Shadow/Sabre 1100cc V-Twin motorcycle to a Honda VTX 1800 (an extremely stylized and more powerful version of the same thing—in other words, an unnecessary extravagance) offered to let me take his VTX for a ride. No thanks, I told him, I was not interested in riding a piece of sculpture. He couldn’t believe I said that. Then take my other bike for a ride, he said. No, I told him again, I already had a bike that I was perfectly happy with. This man was struck with disbelief! I told him to close his mouth or flies would get in. He wanted to unload his old Honda on me, that’s what it was. I told him to forget it. So one day he brings the Honda Sabre over to the bus, parks the bike on the patio next to my Suzuki, hands me the key and leaves. And—I don’t lie—, he never came back for it. Later on, he told me how much he wanted for it, to take it for a ride so I would know what I was buying, and to pay him whenever I could, but by the end of the year if possible. This is a guy who would not make it as a car salesman. Or would he? I’m fairly sure this is the kind of stuff that makes divorce lawyers rich. Anyway, the bike sat there for three days. I already told him I did not want it. So I just looked at it. And I looked at it some more. Darned beautiful bike, actually. Gorgeous, really. Maybe I ought to just sit on it, see how it feels, I thought. Hell, I have the key, maybe I should, you know… Oh my gosh! Riding the Honda Sabre immediately reminded me of the bus—specifically, the very first time I ever got behind the wheel of an over-the-road coach. Typical man, I chose to believe at that time that driving a Greyhound bus would be just another piece of cake. Simple. I could do that, no problem. (I wrote about this once, noting how absurd it seemed, legally, to allow someone with zero experience to drive off in a full-sized motorcoach just because it was licensed as an RV. What I failed to reveal then is the effect that experience had on me physically and psychologically. My first time. It wasn’t good. So here it is.) My maiden voyage in the Salvage Yard on Wheels only lasted about 30-minutes, probably less, but seemed like an hour, an hour that would n-e-v-e-r end. As it turned out, the bus arrived uneventfully in grandiose fashion, but I was a complete wreck! I was sweating so profusely I looked like I just got out of the dunk tank, had horrible cramps in my neck and shoulders, and a throbbing, skull-busting headache. Never in my life had I felt so inadequate and unprepared for the task, unsure whether I would even make it. (Wait. That may not be true. I’ve tried dating.) All the time I was wondering, what if I wreck this thing? Suppose I run over someone? Those were big concerns. What about the little concerns, like how do these turn signals work? Why does the door keep flying open? Is it possible to make that turn? Will I drive over that curb, adding that street sign to the side of the bus? Are the cops watching any of this? And then there was this. I was completely thrown off-guard by the air-ride seat. I had no warning about this. There are times when you enjoy a big surprise, but this—driving your bus through downtown Detroit during 5-o’clock rush-hour traffic for the very first time—is not one of those times. I thoroughly expected, as a driver, to go where the bus went. Yet, every time the bus traveled through a dip in the road, or over a hump, the bus went up or down—but I didn’t! What?? The bus is going up and down but I’m not? That was so freaking weird, I mean, really, it’s no wonder I turned into a basket case. I worried myself sick the whole way about whether I could stop the bus in time, whether I could properly negotiate a turn, and worse, whether I would unintentionally stall the engine while sitting in the middle of an intersection, causing thousands of cars to start honking their horns. And the double-clutching detail that was brand new to me only HEAPED on the misery. Don’t ask me how, but the bus miraculously transported me to the motel despite my anxiety meltdown. I wobbled into the room, took four Ibuprofen tablets and went straight to bed, where I passed out for five hours. I was TOTALLY wiped! True story. That was my first time. Now you know. That was then; but this is now. Here was a motorcycle, a big 1100cc V-Twin, that didn’t feel anything like my old, familiar ride. Immediately, I thought about the bus and that fitful day in Detroit. Oh, no, here we go again. I managed to get the bike on the road and under way without falling over or crashing through a fence. Everything was different. This Honda Sabre was a high-powered, serious cruiser, a style of motorcycle that was the direct result of competition with Harley-Davidson, and has, in fact, replaced the “UJM”, as they were so called—the Universal Japanese Motorcycle, a bike typically sporting an air-cooled transverse four-cylinder engine, exactly like my Suzuki GS750. Today’s version of the ubiquitous generic motorcycle is some variation of the cruiser. Seat lower to the ground, fat rear tire, foot pegs or floorboards forward, handlebars that could be anyplace in any position at almost any height, minimal instrumentation as a rule, and with louder—or just very loud—pipes, both always on the same side. There is only one word that adequately describes the look and feel of a cruiser motorcycle: ATTITUDE. And I don’t care if it’s a custom chopper or a production bike, Honda, Harley, or whatever, it’s about attitude. I wasn’t prepared for that. My feet and the corresponding controls seemed to be in the wrong place, the center of gravity was completely unfamiliar, and the reach was way out there, which was contrary to all my previous riding experiences. And the loud racket? What were they thinking? Do I really need to go deaf? How will that help me? And, who is going to hate me after I blast off on that noisy baby? It didn’t take long to figure out. Who cares? It’s all about attitude! Obviously, I had an adjustment to make—to my psyche, as much as to the bike itself. But after a few trips and logging several hundred miles, I came to a remarkable realization: This is one sweet, sweet ride, and, I’m sorry, there won’t be any going back! By Friday of the following week, I handed over my first payment. I was hooked! So, the Fun Factor has taken a quantum leap forward, relieving the bus of some of that onerous responsibility. To its credit, every time I have taken the opportunity to drive the bus, it has been fun at an extraordinary level, disregarding, of course, that first time, which nearly short-circuited my brain. But now, it is sufficient that I can lie on my bed across the back of the bus, marvel at the peculiar oblong apartment that accommodates my life, and know that outside, sitting on the patio next to the bus is all the attitude—oops, I mean, all the fun that I need. Have fun, everybody! R Terry | ||
| RJ Long (Rjlong)
Registered Member Username: Rjlong Post Number: 1363 Registered: 12-2000 Posted From: 67.181.166.160 Rating: N/A |
Randy - Chuck's right, you've been way overdue for sharing your adventures with the rest of us nuts! Thanks for sharing your latest escapade. Now your next installment should be related to this: "(Roddymc8, it was stolen. . . )" Did one of Arch's Snowballs morph into a giant Frosty who drove off singin' "Don't you cry. . ."? (Well, it is Tennessee!) Did the MoonPies not provide enough lighting to keep the varmints at bay? Enquiring minds want to know!!  (Message edited by rjlong on January 08, 2008) | ||
| John Jewett (Jayjay)
Registered Member Username: Jayjay Post Number: 383 Registered: 1-2001 Posted From: 68.89.69.79 Rating: N/A |
HEY, Randy...can I have the 750?? Purty pleeeze? Cheers...JJ |
