Confessions of a Commuter

[rapidblue]

I socond that. I wear shoes to commute, mainly because i try to get away without a backpack. The left toe is all ripped up from the shifter and the right shoe a sweeping black mark on the inside.

And here I thought it was just me

[CNF2002]

Friday
Miles: 8,594
Mood:

Confession #44- I think bumperstickers are on the wrong end.

Ever notice how many vehicle owners refuse (or decline) to put bumper stickers or other labels on their vehicle, but are perfectly happy with the cheesy dealer advertisements that they paid to have applied to their rear end?

You know what I'm talking about. Usually in silver, to better match the rest of the vehicle labeling (but usually so cheaply made that it fades within a year) or a white-lettered sticker.

"Jim Bob's Ford"

Thanks. Its good to know that Jim Bob's Ford is in the practice of ruining their cars paintjobs and forcing their customers to pay them for their own advertising. Ever wonder what 'Dealer Prep' is? All dealers try to stick it on...some of them are ridiculous, $500 for dealer prep. What exactly does the dealer have to do to get the vehicle ready for sale?

They remove the protective covering, inside and out...maybe fill it with gas? Dealer prep is often done while you are waiting in the lobby. What are they doing you wonder?

They are turning your car into a billboard, thats what. They affix that little sticker on the back of your car, and then, tongue-in-cheek, actually charge you for it! Ever try to get them NOT to put the sticker on? Most dealers will refuse. I've walked out on a dealer who refused to forgo the sticker. Their answer is always the same...its 'policy', 'you can remove it yourself when you get home'.

Yeah? And will you take the car back if I ruin the paintjob in the process? I don't think so. And hey, they could at LEAST affix them straight. I can't fathom how many of these labels I have seen crooked.

That said, bumperstickers are on the wrong side of the vehicle. I was commuting to work today when some lady (we'll call her a soccer mom since she had a Honor Roll bumper sticker and a Soccer Team logo on the rear window) in a huge white Expedition decided to tailgate me. I wasn't even in the left lane...she just had the delusional self-importance to believe that everyone should get out of the way should she decide to speed. Switching to the left lane to pass me would have just been too darn difficult. No, I need to move into the right lane to let her pass.

Way to go, mom. If she ended up rolling over me she probably would have just kept driving along.

Ambulances have the right idea. They have a label on the front of their vehicle with the letters backwards so you can read it in your rearview mirror. This lady needed such a bumper-sticker on the front of her gas-guzzling boat.

"DON'T MIND MY DRIVING, I'M A _____" insert preferred expletive here.

Backwards, so I know ahead of time that I need to get out of her way because she's an impatient, selfish obliviot. The most rewarding part about having been forced out of her line of fire is knowing that if she had killed me with her moronic driving it simply would have been another cute anecdote for her to talk about at the watercooler later that day.

With all of the accidents that happen in the US, and the deaths that result, you would think that people would start to realize that its not just drunk drivers that need to be thrown in jail and taught a lesson. Late soccer moms also qualify.

[Mr_Salad]

because she's an impatient, selfish obliviot.

+1 I love learning new words

[CNF2002]

Wednesday
Miles: 8,628
Mood:

Confession #45- Those kids shouldn't have been in the street anyway.

School has started. Kids everywhere. Buses litering the roads. Flashy stopsigns wherever I go.

I can't wait for Christmas break.

Would I really be in so much trouble if I just ran a few of them over? I get out in the morning and head to work. Kids are on every corner, running around in the street and screaming. Bus going one way, another bus going the other...I'm trapped. So I pull in behind the bus and happily wait as it loads kids on 6 times before I manage to make it out of the neighborhood and the bus and I part ways.

Kids are running at the bus without watching the road, attacking each other with various items. A waterbottle comes flying out at me from somewhere, hits the ground and rolls down under my front tire. So I squash it and ride by a 5 year old screaming in tears, "my water!"

I cautiously eye a student holding a box of thumb tacks and a wicked smile on his face. I slip and slide on a scattered pile of paper from a dropped folder nearby. The kids in the back of the bus are giving me the finger.

Yes, it just so happens that my commute is on a huge school bus route. Things are about to get interesting.

[Andrew]

I'd suggest leaving a little earlier and avoid the bus time. I know that at 5 there aren't any little kiddies out!!!

[NorthernPete]

what sort of sadistic place makes the kiddies go back in August??

September or bust!

[flw]

I think your making a great note as to a forgoten part of riding. Just basic functions of point a to point b riding, just like many cars. Doesn't mean we dislike them, infact they are so practical people can do things like this. Great use for a older bike or very heavily used one.

Nothing wrong with being completly practical. Just like we all don't buy $500 helmets when a $150 one or less will do just fine.

[CNF2002]

Thursday
Miles: 8,657
Mood:

Confession #46- My bike didn't come with training wheels.

I wrote out my plans for a riding helmet beer dispenser. I drew a little picture of the helmet with beer cans taped to the side and a thin hose running down into the bottom of the helmet. I was pretty thrilled with my invention, so I showed the wife. She didn't share my enthusiasm. Most women are afraid of their husbands riding on motorcycles. Most husbands try their hardest to convince them that they will be safe.

I try my best to torment her on a regular basis.

My bike is a 'beginners bike', but it didn't come with training wheels. All motorcycles should come with training wheels.

Case in point. I'm riding to work when I see a couple on a sportbike. Now here is a guy who would make husband of the year. He's riding with a jacket and helmet. His lady wrapped around his back, holding on for dear life, wearing nothing but a skimpy outfit that, sorry Vogue, is a cross between lingerie and pajamas.

Like it or not ladies, if your top has spagetti straps and silk wraps with white fringie lace all around it, you are wearing night-wear! It doesn't matter what they say in the full page Cosmo ads. Its undies. You don't see me walking around in flannel draw-string pants with pictures of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on them. Why? Because they're jammies! No fashion nut in the world is going to change that.

Anyway, this guy is a real gentleman. I bet he makes her wash his bike while he sits in a lawn chair drinking a beer. A real inspiration.

I wouldn't have felt so sorry for the poor girl, but clearly the guy needed training wheels on his bike. They rode up to the stoplight, wobbled, and he bounced left and right, planting his feet to keep them from falling over. Took off at the light with a nice little lurch that convinced me she was going to fly off the back (she was probably quite slippery wearing that silky smooth nightgown). At the next stop he slams on the brakes in the middle of the lane, slips on the crusty oil patch, and nearly biffs the bike in front of me.

I wanted to wave the girl over and offer her a ride that she would have a chance of surviving. But hey, I was headed to work, and I wasn't interested in joining the pajama party.

[CNF2002]

Monday
Miles: 8,689
Mood:

Confession #47- I will never cut off a truck if the tire is higher than my head.

I made quite a random and pleasing discovering on my commute home today. Along the freeway I came across a fellow motorcyclist riding a Buell Blast.

That's my bike!

It was quite an exciting experience. This will have been the very first Buell Blast that I have seen operating on the roadway. That doesn't spell well for Harley's sales figures, but I was happy nevertheless. Unfortunately my fellow rider did not apparently share my enthusiasm. Alas, my horn toot, frantic wave, and thumbs up was met with a disappointing small head-nod.

Barely even an acknowledgement.

Perhaps, I thought, this was a new rider and he was just trying to keep his attention on the road and was afraid to let a hand off the bar. Maybe his clutch was broken and he had to hold it out to keep it engaged. Who knows his reason, but he did not seem to recognize that we had a connection. A bond. We rode the same motorcycle. I'm thrilled! I am not the only person in the world who owns this motorcycle. In a way, you could say my veil of exile and solitude have been lifted and I feel connected to the world in ways that could never be brought to words without the help of Frost or Dickens. That's quite a ride home!

Regardless of my feelings, by the time I had worded out TOTALMOTORCYCLEDOTCOM in sign language, he had lost all interest in me.

A little bit later I encountered...no, no. I was attacked, by a moron in a brand new black Honda Civic. First he nearly rammed into the back of me. Then, upon passing me to the right, nearly clipped me. Then, as I kept my eye on this Grade-A award-winning automotive pilot, he proceeds to cut off a truck to merge into the far left lane.

Call me crazy, but I will never cut off a Texas Ford truck if the enormous tires are higher than my head, or in this case, his roofline! Needless to say, the trucker was seriously pissed. Watching him wobble a bit as he rode up to the back of the civic (they had only an inch or so of clearance regardless, thanks to the civic driver), I knew that inside that dark window-tinted cabin the trucker was hopping up and down in his seat, cursing, and looking down at this sad little car that doesn't apparently understand the laws of physics.

I'm not in any way advocating the subsequent behavior of the trucker, nor am I to presume that the civic could not have merged (albiet with more room) in front of the truck, to clarify that I do not believe the trucker had any right of way based on his size alone, but lets use some common sense here. I also may realize that if a bear comes onto my property it certainly has trespassed and deserves to be evicted, but that doesn't mean I'm going to walk up and slap it in the nose. No, sir.

Fortunately the heat is settling and there was no accident, no shotgun muzzle emerging from a truck window, and no bloody mess for me to explain to the state troopers.

However there is one thing that is certain; somewhere there is a blog on the Internet that reads: "I saw this guy on a buell blast on the freeway today, and he was wacked out of his mind!..."

[CNF2002]

Tuesday
Miles: 8,704
Mood:

Confession #48- I don't usually help stranded ladies change spare tires, but...

I usually don't pull over and help people change flat tires. If it was in the middle of nowhere, definately. If the person specifically flagged me down, sure. But not in rush hour traffic along a freeway. I just don't have the time and that's really a "Walk to the nearest gas station" or "Call a tow truck" issue. Or hey, call anyone you know. Or learn to change your own tire.

So imagine my surprise this morning. It was a typical morning, got up, wife left for work, I dressed and showered and got my gear together. I headed out, into the sea of schoolbuses and children who, now knowing that I regularly commute to work by motorcycle, have taken to jumping up and down and waving at me every morning. About 5 miles down the freeway, in a gridlock traffic jam, I come upon a stranded motorist. She is standing behind her car, emergency blinkers on, waving me down.

My...that car sure does look familiar.

It was my wife. Somewhere between home and here her tire had become flat. I considered just driving on and ignoring her but, well, I decided to stop and render aid.

So I pull up, get off my bike, and start hauling the spare tire and tools out of the trunk. Think riding in full gear in the heat is tough? Try changing a tire in full gear in the heat.

Anyway, this was the least of our problems. This particular car is a Volkswagen, and VW uses special lug-nuts that require an allen-type socket, and a key to go with it. Much to our surprise, apparently the tire shop failed to put it back last time we were there...so we had no key.

So, I lugged everything back into the truck and we called for a tow.

To sum up, the one time I pull over to rescue a damsel in distress with a flat tire in rush our traffic...and I couldn't even change the tire.