TARGET ACQUIRED: MOTORCYCLE

A couple of weeks back a friend and I were discussing inattentive car drivers and how they tend to increase the sales of new underwear to motorcycle riders through the use of cars as "weapons of motorcycle destruction"...usually unintended, but still harrowing experiences. Getting cut off, merged into, turned in front of, you know, the usual stuff that scares the crap out of us on every other ride. It was at this point when my friend brought up an interesting tidbit.

He tells me there was a study done a while back, in Finland or Moldavia or Sierra Leone or Tierra Del Fuego or some such place, that stated that the worst offenders of car related attacks on motorcycles were the owners of Volvo's. Being the half deaf goof I am, I thought he said vulva's, and I thought he was saying women were the cause of all my riding related heart attacks. I wasn't surprised by his sexism, he is a musician after all...albeit, a drummer. After sorting out the confusion, it turns out that owners of VOLVO'S, as per this study, have an incredible sense of safety, as they are all wrapped up in their bullet proof Swedish tanks and thus have absolutely no regard for anything more than six inches out from any of their bodywork.

I took this with a grain of salt (and some tequila and lime) but started paying attention to the actual make of vehicle that may be trying to kill me. The very next day as I am riding down 16th avenue I see a car coming down the ramp to merge into my lane. There is nothing but room in front of me and not a vehicle in sight behind me. Being the paranoid rider that I am (you don't get to be my age as a rider without being paranoid) I check to my left for an escape route; yup, all good. As I maintain my speed I keep my eye on the car to see if it will pull in behind or in front of me. As it pulls up beside me, sure as shit, it starts to merge into me. As I take my pre-arranged escape route I give the driver my best "You dumb asshole" look. It is, of course, totally wasted on him as he was oblivious to everything around him. Care to guess what he was driving? I kid you not...a Volvo.

So, okay then little drummer boy, I am now willing to consider the Volvo study.

But then this happened.

I left for work early one morning last week to take a bit of a ride and enjoy the day. Near the end of my ride my route would take me  for a 6 km. sprint down Deerfoot Trail. As I merged onto Deerfoot a car swerved from the lane to my left and cut me off only to zoom around another car and speed off. It was an Audi sports car. Barely a minute later a car, also in the lane to my left doing 20 kph under the speed limit, cuts in front of me causing  some hard braking. The car? An Audi station wagon. And then, another short minute later, (just like the Volvo from the week before) a car merges from the right...damn, now I have to stop at WalMart for a pack of clean undies. That car? An Audi sedan. Three car attacks in less than 6 kilometers and all by Audi's. The Germans seem to have taken umbrage at the Swede's and are on the attack. Hide the women and children...and motorcycles.

THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL YOU...

I have been riding motorcycles for over 40 years. Small bikes, big bikes, dirt bikes, street bikes, dual purpose bikes, pocket bikes; if it has two wheels I have taken one for a ride. Without exception, every bike I have owned or ridden has attempted to kill me.

I am not attributing actual malice to the machines, I ain't one of them there  anthropomorphist's! Not that what I do in the privacy of my own brain is anybody else's business...but I digress.

I suppose there could be a machine conspiracy hell bent on taking me out, but I can't figure out why I would be a target. And who would be orchestrating this? Although, I did see a puff of smoke up on the grassy knoll.

Okay, getting way off track here.

I thought I could just be a bad rider but I have never had an incident while carrying a passenger. This, then, makes me wonder if, while riding alone, I am more likely to let my attention wander. Or, perhaps, more likely to take risks. But I don't think this is it either as this shit never seems to happen when driving a car.

Is there, then, a higher power up there with vengeful thoughts aimed at me? Have I ticked off the "Great Gazoo" somehow and am now the target of his wrath? If that is the case, he's not very good at this as he keeps missing...unless that's the plan. Is the plan so diabolical that it's taking over 40 years to come to fruition? Seems a bit out there though...even for me.

Karma, then? Could I have been even more of a jerk in a past life than I am now? Was I in the habit of kicking puppies, stealing candy from kids or or taking two from the "please try one" sample rack at the store? I don't think so. Seems pretty selective for Karma.

I dismissed an alien connection right off the bat of course. Aliens trying to kill me would just be silly. When I was abducted they really seemed quite pleasant. They asked "Take us to your leader" so I introduced them to the Explorer. We had tea and all was good. Turns out they were just looking for directions.

Shit, I just tripped over my own feet and spilt cereal on the dog...oh...I'm clumsy...please disregard the above.

5 MARRIED THINGS

When working on a long term relationship there are any number of things you can do that can keep it nicely on track. Every couple has to work out what things will work best for them and not everybody is going to use the same ones but here are my top five.

1) ANTICIPATE. The Explorer and I have learned over the years to anticipate each others needs. While we were sitting out front of the house, enjoying a hot summer Sunday, I was reading aloud the directions on a bottle of some lawn fertilizer I was about to use. When I came to the part where I say "Keep Out Of The Reach Of Children" I turn to, jokingly, hand the bottle to the Explorer, just as she is jokingly, I hope,  reaching to take the bottle out of my hands.

2) HUG. This one will probably work for most people. I am not really a hugger but I am also not, contrary to what you may have heard, an idiot...usually. I can tell when the love 'o' me life is a little bit off. I may not know what is wrong but I do know she likes a good hug. It seems to work. Just to be safe I will also throw in the occasional, random, just for the hell of it hug. This makes her smile...which makes me smile...which makes life good.

3) DATE NIGHT. Yes, with each other...or not, I suppose, I did say each couple has to work this stuff out for themselves. This is just as it sounds. Go on a date, talk, re-connect, catch up then go home and have wild, hot, sweaty...oh, I'm sure you get the idea.  Oh, and try not to scare the dog.

4) TOYS. No, not those kind of toys, well, maybe those kind of toys, but that's not the kind of toys I mean. I mean "Do it on your own" hobby kind of toys. Motorcycles, big screen T.V.'s, stereos, that kind of stuff. The stuff that you can do by yourself that lets you turn your brain off for a bit and re-charge. Just because you are married doesn't mean you have to do everything together. And if the old ball and chain wants new toys too...let him buy his own stuff.

5) LAZINESS. This one really works well for the Explorer and me. My lovely wife is constantly being hit on. From 20 year old hard bodies to 95 year old geezers (with walkers and oxygen bottles in tow) and every age in between. I, of course, have my own bevy of beauties at my fingertips...literally, at my fingertips...and it's only $9.99 a month to subscribe. But here we are, almost 25 years married and still together. That, my friends, is what laziness can get you.

Will these work for you? Maybe not, but for us...yup.

THINGS I DON'T BUY

There are lots of things in this world that I don't want to, or can't, buy. Things like a 30 room mansion or a Ferrari or suits or crunchy peanut butter or romance novels or the latest, greatest phone. This is not about these things; this is about things that I actually need, or use, but never seem to buy. I own them but I never seem to buy them. This is not about magical elves or cracks in the fabric of the universe that stuff falls through...it's just odd.

COMBS
For those who know me, my owning a comb at this point in my life seems a little, okay, extremely silly, as well as a waste of time. But when I was younger, and furrier, I did use a comb. Always kept it in my back pocket where it would press an image of itself into my wallet. When it would, inevitably, get lost, there always seemed to be one hanging around the house that I felt free to take. Looking back on it, my baby brother was probably wondering where all his new combs were disappearing to...until now. Serves him right, he with the still flowing locks.

LIGHTERS
Okay, yes, I am a smoker, bad bad me. The point is lighters. They are everywhere. I never seem to need to buy them. On top of the fridge, find a lighter. The drawer with BBQ tools, find a lighter. Inside my car, the Explorers car, under the couch cushions, in a re-usable shopping bag, in a coat pocket, on top of the washing machine...they are friggin' everywhere. I sometimes think lighters are not even manufactured, they just breed like bunnies. How Bic makes any money is beyond me.

SOCKS AND UNDERWEAR
This one is more of a 56 year fortuitous circumstance than anything else. As a kid living at home my mom bought my socks and undies. As I got older and moved out there was Christmas and birthday presents that included them. As a married man the Explorer has always picked them up, while shopping for other things, to replace the ratty, old (but finally broken in) ones that were driving her mad. If I ever end up truly on my own I'm going to end up living in sandals and going commando.

GOLF BALLS
I like to play golf. I don't play often and I don't play very well but I do like it. Because I am, what some would call a hack, I go through an inordinate number of golf balls when I play. Fortunately, I have a supplier of slightly experienced golf balls...my Dad. I don't know why he wants to give these used balls away. To me they look perfectly good and, as far as I'm concerned, a used ball that didn't get lost obviously knows where it's going and I can use the help.

SHIRTS THAT ARE NOT T-SHIRTS
I work in retail and as such I wear a work shirt. When not working I tend to wear T-Shirts. Any other time where neither would be appropriate I wear, well, hand me downs from my Dad. Golf shirts, dress shirts, short sleeve casual shirts; I have a closet full from my Dad. It's not that I can't afford my own shirts or don't know who sells men's wear but Dad doesn't want them and they fit me and, for the most part, they aren't weird looking and I don't have to shop. Win, win, win and win.

I don't know if these things happen to other people or if they are just another, in a long list, of my life's little quirks. Don't really care because, so far, it works for me.

OTHER PEOPLES STUFF

A while back, while suffering a bit of brain lock, I made a request on Facebook for some blog post ideas. I received responses from two people. One person suggested I post on my most embarrassing moment or the most interesting person I have met. The other person suggested I post about Calgarians and Stampede. I wasn't sure if she meant Calgarians and their relationship to the Stampede or if it was two separate topics. As I am lazy I did not ask for clarification so I am going to make them separate topics.

So, in no particular order, well, actually in the order I want to present them, here is my take on the supplied topics.

STAMPEDE

The Calgary Stampede has been around for over 100 years. It is part of our western heritage and deserves a place in our modern western, and Canadian culture. Do animals get hurt? Sometimes they do and it is unfortunate. If that bothers you then don't go. If it really bothers you then do some research into how the animals, the horses in particular, came to be in the Stampede. I'm not your mommy so do your own research like I did. They are better off doing what they are doing.

Do I go to the Stampede? Hardly ever anymore but my reasons have nothing to do with any of this. If you don't go because you think you are protesting animal cruelty by doing so, well, just take your annoying ass back to Vancouver or Toronto where you can eat your tofu and sip your $10.00 a bottle water and watch some weird National Film Board of Canada film and feel smug and righteous. We don't care.

The Calgary Stampede is, without a doubt, "The Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth."
'Nuff said.

CALGARIANS

This is difficult. What makes someone a Calgarian? Do you have to be born here? Is there a number of years you have to live here to adopt the title "Calgarian"? Do you have to be a supporter of Calgary sports teams? Do you have to wear a cowboy hat for 10 days in July or or not wear a cowboy hat for 10 days in July? Is there something inherently different about those who live here that marks them as Calgarians, as opposed to someone unfortunate enough to live elsewhere? Is it civic pride or pulling together in times of need? Is it extraordinary bad driving?

Beats the hell outta me.

THE MOST INTERESTING PERSON I HAVE MET

This was interesting and quite thought provoking...and thus brain hurting. I have met a lot of interesting people in my life. I find all of my friends interesting, which, I suppose, is why they are my friends. I consider all of my family interesting too. Which is a fortuitous thing because I can't do anything about family. I don't know anybody famous but there are famous people I find interesting. I am vain enough that I hope my friends and family find me interesting (but not "Interesting" if you catch the difference).

But if I had to choose "The most interesting person" that would have to be my baby brother. If he reads this I am sure he is cringing and thinking "What's that idiot talking about now"? Don't worry bro' it's good stuff.

My brother is smart, good looking (although that's genetic so might not count but pisses me off), well educated, articulate, artistic, sarcastic, funny as hell and brave. He has made interesting career choices at unusual points in his life. I think of him as a free spirit in a non hippie un-weird sort of way. I enjoy his company immensely and look forward to any time I can spend with him...which is not nearly enough.

I even find his love of Coronation Street interesting...if a little disturbing.

MY MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT

This topic was surprisingly difficult just due to the mind numbing number of embarrassing moments in my life. Every time I started typing about an event, another would pop into my head and I would pause to reflect...is this one more or less embarrassing than the other...and start over. Again and again this happened, to the point where I was getting embarrassed at the number of embarrassing moments. Fortunately, one event started beating out the others on a consistent basis. So here it is, and it may not seem that bad to some but it has stuck with me for 30 years.

Fire up the way-back machine and travel to 1984/85 (This I can't remember). I was on a motorcycle trip with a friend, traveling in the good old U.S. of A., and we were coming to the end of a long, hot day. At that time I was riding a 1984 Honda Goldwing Aspencade. For my non riding friends I offer a little perspective. At the time, as it is now, the Goldwing was the premier touring bike. Saddlebags, trunk, stereo, big engine, helmet to helmet intercom, bells, whistles, doo-dads and gee-gaws. A 2014 model Goldwing is $30,000.00.

Anyway, back to the idiocy. We found a motel worthy of our budgets and pulled into the parking lot in front of the motel office. Now, this particular motel had an outdoor swimming pool in full view of said office. I got off the bike, took off my helmet and set it on top of the back trunk and went into the office to check in.

 On the way out I noticed several scantily clad women-folk frolicking around the pool and coyly eyeing the motorcycle dudes. Acting cool as a cucumber, I hopped on my bike, fired it up, gave it a couple of revs to make sure said babes were giving me their full and undivided attention and took off. Remember the (very expensive) helmet sitting on the trunk? Good for you if you did because I completely forgot about it and off the bike it went, impressing to no end, I'm sure, the fair young ladies.

Having no choice but to retrieve the helmet I made a hard right turn, putting me even closer to the pool, and the now blatantly staring lovely young things. This, of course, offended the triplet gods of physics, gravity and coolness who then ganged up on me. Down went the expensive bike and yours truly with it. The Three Stooges couldn't have performed a better slapstick moment. I bounced up, lifted a 750 pound bike back on its wheels, shoved my shredded dignity into my back pocket and skulked away. Never did hit the pool.

And there you go.