Clifton’s Place

This weekend, I finally got back into the motorscooter rally mode, though not exactly as I had wanted, but rallying nonetheless.

I have been planning on and looking forward to the Dead Elvis scooter rally in Memphis for some time, my first rally in  over a year, after a number of medical atrocities. I was riding my Elite 250, and Sandy was tailgunning in her Explorer.  When we started to leave, I found, without warning, that I was just not ready to ride 5-6 hours to the rally. I was tired, my pacemaker was cycling, my hips and knees were hurting, and I just was not up to it. This is a very hard thing for me, as I have always been one to ride to events, and not one to trailer, and fairly proud of it. This time, however, it just did not work for me. I, of course, do not have a suitable trailer, and no way to carry the scooter.  My alternative here turned out to be to simply leave the Elite 250 here at home, and load up my mobility scooter on the Explorer’s carrier, and take an "alternative" form of scooter to the rally. This actually turned out better than anticipated, and I had a really good time. 

When we arrived Friday, Sandy and I were frustrated trying to find the hotel, and when we finally did, going anywhere else was a pain; to get anywhere, we had to know the shortcuts to get out of there, and we didn’t know them. The maps we had were more-or-less useless. We ended up on the I-55 bridge going into Arkansas trying to go downtown.  When we did make it back to the hotel, we did not dare try to go anywhere for dinner, and ended up ordering by phone from one of the places listed in the rally propaganda, and we had pasta delivered to the hotel, and it was very good.  We missed the registration at Calhoun’s Sports Bar, and we don’t do late-night partying, so we ended up staying at the hotel.

Saturday morning, there was late registration and a breakfast burrito bust in the park next to the hotel, and a great time had by all.  The day group ride was, of course, Elvis centered, and I have no interest in Elvis - I had no use for him when he was alive, and certainly don’t now, but the ride was interesting. The stops were the Sun Records studios, always interesting, Supercycle (Elvis’s bike builder), and Graceland. No, I did not take the tour, so Sandy and I had a couple of hours to go back to the hotel and rest.  A bit later, the whole rally group met up at the hotel, and rode en masse to Metro Moto, the Vespa purveyor in Memphis. For a bit of nostalgia, follow a huge group of scooters through town, many of them being vintage Vespas and Lambrettas, and smell that two-stroke exhaust smoke…  Metro Moto is a very nice store, and the folks there simply set up big round portable tables, iced kegs, and music in the parking lot in front of the store,  and Central Barbeque brought in killer food.  The weather cooperated, and good times were had. Later, a huge raffle went on, and awards were given for many catagories.  The Birmingham Scooter Syndicate made an impressive showing, taking the Best Club Turnout trophy,  and BSS members taking trophies for Furthest Ridden (done on a 125!), Best Modern Vespa, Best Modern Other (Dib’s Big Ruckus), Best Stella, Best Rat Bike, and Best of Show. 

Sunday morning, a mass breakfast was had at the Arcade Cafe, Memphis’ oldest restaurant (1919) and Elvis’s favorite breakfast place. Good food!

The Memphis Kings scooter club did a bang-up job, and must be shamelessly commended.

So, I am back into rally mode after all this time, but not exactly as I had wanted.  One thing that has become clear is that I am no longer up to long rides to faraway rallies.  This is a heartbreaker for me. I have always been the one to ride to stuff, and have never been afraid of long rides. In just the last few years, I have ridden the Silver Wing to Johnson City TN, to the Gulf Coast several times, to Louisiana, etc. I have flogged the Elite 250 to Knoxville TN, Madison GA, Chattanooga TN, the Gulf Coast, etc etc. I have done 1000 mile weekends onthe 250.  All this may be at an end, I dunno.  I will continue to ride the Silver Wing wherever I go, but traveling on the 250 is more difficult.

So I may actually be one to wuss out and trailer the 250 to far-off events, to become one of those I have made fun of all these years.

My S10 pickup is ready to take a small trailer, and the Explorer can be adapted very quickly; It has a Class III frame hitch already, which carries the lift for the mobility scooter. This can be rather easily slid out, and a ball reciever slid in, and the four-wire light connector is already there.  So it will now be my project to find a suitable small-to-medium trailer to use when I become a trailer wuss going to events.  A long way down for me, but apparently one of those things…

I have just arrived back at the manse, to get started on the yard work that is sorely needed. I had headed out this morning for the old ‘hood in south East Lake to check out the neighborhood yard sale thing going on there. On the way back, I tooled onto the trusty old US Hwy 11 on the way home, and had a thought of going a bit out of the way and making a stop at the WalMart in Springville, to pick up a couple of needed goodies. I am not sure exactly what transpired, but after three gas stops and a quick lunch at a Waffle House in Fort Payne, I found myself back at home, with 168 miles on the trip odo. I got distracted, that is what happened. That is my story anyway, and I am sticking to it. The old Elite 250 does cruise well at 55mph though, and will do 60 without complaint, but does sound a bit busy at that speed. What can I say; it is old.
I did have an encounter at the Waffle House which was unusual. (Hmmm… WalMart and Waffle House; you knew I was white trash didn’t you?) An older guy (67 as it turned out) asked me, not the usual how may mpg, but if I thought he would be able to ride something the size of the Elite just around town, and was it a problem to shift the gears. He recently retired, has been widowed for a couple years, and has always wanted a motorcycle, but "my wife never would let me get one." He has some two-wheel knowledge from his bicycle, which he still rides, but the only motorcycle of any kind he has ridden was many years ago, when he rode his brother’s Cushman around the farm in the 1950s, to keep it exersized while bro was drafted away. I explained the CVT scooter trans has no shifting at all, and with Art’s influence in mind, referred him to Fort Payne Powersports, a Yamaha dealer, and suggested he look at the Zuma 125. I also recommended the MSF rider course. (I think the closest one to him is in Jacksonville)
He seemed pleased, so maybe we will have another scooter rider in Fort Payne.
So now for the yard work. I will work on it until I give up on it, which will be late this afternoon, and I will be working at my own pace, as I chase patches of shade around. I do want to go tonight down to Trussville, where the Birmingham Amateur Radio Club is doing their annual Field Day thing, just to look around, see some of the folks, and be around some RF.
I never did make it to Wally World. I’ll do that tomorrow…

I grow weary.  They are trying to stress out and kill an old man.  It is an evil communist plot. That must be it.  Our society deteriorates to a civilization of whiners and helpless fools.  The latest examples are the switch to digital television, and people who have no idea how to use her own computers.  People have had TWO YEARS to prepare for the TV thing, and just can’t seem to get it. Somehow, the idea of getting a simple converter box for their TV seems to be an insurmountable obstacle, even though the federal gummint has foolishly given them a chance for a $40 discount on a $50 box. Older folk are the worst, but not the only offenders.

At work Monday, I was called upstairs, where a woman was giving a presentation to a meeting.  I was there because her computer would not put her PowerPointless crap presentation on the screen through the ceiling-mounted projector.  Bear in mind thatr this was HER laptop computer, not mine, and she expected ME to make it work.  The first thing I noticed was that the cable from the wall box for the projector was not connected to her laptop.  Her explanation was "But the computer is wireless!"  While simmering inside, explained that the projector was not wireless, and it didn’t apply.  I got the cable, brought it to the laptop, and while I was tightening the connector, told her to switch the video to the socket on the back, so that it would send the signal to the projector.  She just looked at me with a bewildered expression, and had no idea what I meant. I, rather patiently I thought, showed her how to hold down the function key and press the number key with the little blue TV on it, and the screen popped up on the projector, and thus on the big screen. She was relieved, and thanked me "so much" for helping her out.  I went back to my office.  Less than five minutes later, I was called back upstairs.  Seems the woman had sound with her PowerPointless program, and was not pleased with the crummy sound from the speakers built into her laptop, and wanted to know if I had "better speakers" she could use.  I told her that I did not, and that she would just have to get along with what she had.  She had the gonads to want to know why I did not have better speakers.  I showed great restraint in not exploding on the whacko, and told her that we expect presenters to know how to use their own equipment, be rehearsed, and bring what they need to do their presentation, and rolled away.  After the meeting, I think she felt guilty, and came to my office to thank me again for my help.  I had to ask her if she had rehearsed this thing ahead of time, and she said no.  Before I could go into a tirade, she went into another whiney story about her mother having no TV, because she just didn’t know about this "converting" thing, and she could no longer get the stations.  I asked if her mother had a fairly new TV, and she thought that the TV was about 6 or seven years old.  I asked if her mother had a converter box, and she said yes, her mother had sent for the coupon from the government, and had bought a box from Radio Shack, but did not know what to do with it. I asked if she and her mother had tried to read the book that came with the converter, and she said no, that those things were "just too complicated."  At that point, I lowered the boom on her, telling her that the books for both her computer and the converter box were carefully written so that anyone with a room-temperature IQ could understand either, and to find any 4th grader in her mother’s neighborhood who had not been educated beyond their intelligence to hook up the box.  She left angry. 

Yesterday, a woman came into my sanctorum from another department upstairs.  Turns out she knows the presenter woman, who has a masters in marketing (and is still incompetent, IMHO) and it seems the biddy was offended by my "attitude".  What a shame.  At any rate, this woman had seen presenter woman at chuch, who had explained that she and her mother had found, actually, a 7th grader in the neighborhood, who, in less than 20 minutes, had hooked up the converter box, done a channel scan, configured mother’s TV to receive only channel 3 (for the box) and AUX (for the DVD player), and explained to the apparently thick mother how to use the remote for the box.  Old mother was just all thrilled to find out that now, instead of six channels, she had twenty four (that digital broadcasting is badass, huh?) and the picture looked so much better! Hmmph.

 Years ago, the first UHF TV station came to town, WBMG 42.  Those younger than me will not remember this, but TVs in those days came only with VHF tuners, channels 2-13.  In order to receive the new channel, people had to buy a UHF converter box which attached to their TV, and output on channel 3 or 4 on their TV, much like the digital boxes of today.  The government did not offer discount coupons.  The propaganda included with those old UHF converters, if any, was not nearly as good as now,  and most folks had to buy a new antenna in addition. Those who did not want to screw with the converters simply bought a new "modern" TV with the UHF tuner built in.  I was just a kid when all this went down, but I do not remember whining and hand-wringing.  People just adapted.

 Today, apparently, adapting is a lost art.  People these days are whiny, helpless, and to large extent, useless in day-to-day living.  I sometimes imagine a cataclysm, and can picture the Volvos and BMWs decending on what is left of the drug stores, and fist fights breaking out over the last Prozac.

 Let us do the math - I do this little rant not to aggrandize myself, but merely as a demonstration.  I am not a particularly brave or tough guy, but was raised with the idea that I would have to take care of myself, for the most part. I am an insulin-dependent diabetic. I have had two major heart attacks, and have a pacemaker.  I am a bi-lateral below-knee amputee, and wear prosthetics.  Medicare did not buy my mobility scooters, or the hand controls for my car.  I am still working.  I still ride my motorscooters.  I do my own yard work.   If something breaks, I fix it, not because I am an electromechanical genius, but because I can read at more than a 4th grade level, and thus do the research. 

 Pick it up, people.  Let us get seriously independent, lest we end up as we are headed.  Not a pretty destination…

This morning, I used what Daniel Meyer calls the "Wet Driveway Principle" - raise the garage door.  If the driveway is wet, drive the cage.  If dry, ride the motorcycle.  What happens the rest of the day is up to Fate.  This morning, the driveway was dry, so I fired up the scooter and set off.  My lady wife met me at an eatery, we had a good breakfast, and the parking lot was still dry, so I proceeded to the regular Sunday coffee shop to meet with the scooter group. While I was there, The Storm set in.  We were at the tables outside under the portico, so we had a front row seat for the lightning and heavy blowing rain.  Impressive, but not a good sign for the trip home. As it turned out, the front blew through in only a couple of hours, and the trip home was in barely a sprinkle, so I was spared becoming Functionally Non-Dry, and the air temp was warm enough that I did not get cold, so not a bad trip at all.  One of the others had to go in to work for a couple of hours, and apparently used the same logic that I did, so he was on his scooter, and was thoroughly wet.  He had apparently called his wife, who drove in with a change of clothes for him.

One thing does bug me - I make it a usual practice to fuel up on the way home, not the way out, so that I start with a full tank, and go where I am going. Today I did not, so Red has about 30 miles worth of fuel now.  This means that I will need to stop and fuel up when I next leave the house, and a fuel stop three miles from home on the way out will delay me, and cause a Disturbance in my Force.  Ah well.  A good ride, though, and good company.

Typewriter Day 2009, that is. If you’re a member of the Orthodoxy, you know that there’s enough typer-love in this world to celebrate on June 23rd, the anniversary date of the U.S. patent granted to Christopher Sholes. I have to admit to being a little over-nerdy with this thing…
I like the public typing part of it, especially as some on the forums have tried it, and shown it to not only be easy, but entertaining as well. The procedure is as follows: dig your old typer out of the garage, attic, wherever and tune it up, or beg, borrow, or steal one somewhere, take it out into public somewhere, and type a letter to someone you know. Put the letter into an envelope (preferably having addressed the letter by typing on the envelope) put a stamp on it, and mail it to whomever. "Public" can be whatever you like; I will be working that day, and am thinking of hitting a coffee shop that evening and doing it there.  Manual portables are best for this - your Remington 5 or IBM Selectric would be difficult to carry, and the IBimmer would require electricity.  I am thinking of using my 1951 Smith-Corona Skyriter. I must warn you that this may take some time, as a number of conversations with total strangers may develop.  It is fun, though.  I have 12 folk that I letter each year, usually doing 11 beforehand, and saving the last one for public, mailing them all that night.
One other thing while I am banging on the evil computer keyboard - there is a practice among the typewriter nerds called "typecasting". This is a practice of typing (yes, with a typewriter) a blog thread on a blank 5X7 index card, scanning the card to a .jpg and posting it in one’s blog. For an example, see  www.strikethru.net  - I am thinking of trying this on typewriter day myself.  We will see.

Just took a little scooter ride; very little, six miles, but it is a ride!  I have had very few opportunities lately - I got my "sea legs" back and got back on the scooter just in time for a month of almost continuous rainy days, with emphasis on the weekends. [grumble]  This has been aggravating.  I used to say that if you don’t ride in the rain, you don’t ride, but lately age and health status have been catching up with me, and my philosophy is changing.  My new prosthetic feet are not supposed to get wet, and I don’t like to anymore.  As a result, over the last 4 weeks, since the Cheaha trip, I have been able to do very little riding.  Hopefully, the regular spring monsoon season is nearly over!

A group in Homewood has formed a little scooter club, not as a competitor to the Birmingham club, but as a supplement. They are meeting on Friday evenings, a good alternative to the Sunday morning gatherings of the Birmingham group; some people just can’t make it on Sundays because of other obligations.  I am thinking of doing a similar thing in Trussville, perhaps gathering on Thursday evenings, perhaps at Willie T’s, where the  Southern Cruisers already have a gathering on Tuesday night.  I will check with the management to see what happens on Thursdays there.  There are a good many scooters around Trussville, so maybe it would be a good sized group.  We will see.

I had almost forgotten how much fun it is!  I just returned from the ninth annual Cheaha Mountain ride-in with the Valkyrie Riders Cruiser Club.  Over 100 folks from 14 states and Canada, and a bunch of folks I only see once a year.  Good folks, good food, good riding, good fun.  I was on the little scooter, as I don’t have the "sea legs" for the Silver Wing yet, but nobody seemed to mind.  I managed to avoid the bad weather all weekend, until I arrived home a little while ago, just in time for the tornado sirens.  I am glad I made it home dry, but I feel for some of the folks who have to ride home through this crappy weather.  Everyone ride safe. 

We apparently got away from the mountain just in time; I am home safe and dry, but there are 3 tornado warnings out now, and it is raining like crazy, with occasional pea-sized hail, and 40+ mph wind gusts.  And I have to go back to work tomorrow.  Real life crashes in…

Yea mon!  Yesterday, I got the Elite 250 out and rode it!  It was 18 miles, hardly an Epic Journey, but I was riding!  I was waiting to be able to walk with a cane, so I could be able to get off the scooter and walk when I got to wherever I was going.  You could not have pried the grin off my face with a crowbar. For a rider like me, going from June to April without riding was misery. There are still issues - I do not have the stones to try the Silver Wing yet, as it is a 500lb bike; the Elite 250 at less than 300lbs is enough of an issue right now. I have very little mechanical advantage with the legs; both of mine are amputated at about 5 inches below the knee, and flexing the knee and trying to apply forward or back motion with the feet is very tough. I can not "back up" the Elite.  A stop at an intersection an uneasy thing, as the same principle applies to side-to-side motion with the feet; I do not have the mechanical advantage.  I am getting used to it, but it is taking a while.  This morning, I rode to Crestwood Coffee to hang out with the Birmingham Scooter Syndicate.  Forty-four miles and a gas stop, and I did well, all things considered. I am a happy gimp boy.

Now to Cheaha.  I hang out with the Valkyrie Riders Cruiser Club, a group who ride Honda Valkyries, a huge cruiser built around a Gold Wing engine.  These are great folks, and tolerate scooter trash like me very well; in fact it is their fault that I have the Silver Wing, so I can keep up with the group rides.  These folks have an annual Alabama state ride-in at Cheaha Mountain State Park in east central Alabama on the first weekend in May.  I am going!  It looks like I will be on the Elite 250, but I am going!  Cheaha is an amazing event - it is promoted as the Alabama state ride-in, but attracts riders from many states, and good times are had.  So far this time, there are 127 registered, from 14 states and Canada.  There are folks there with whom I communicate on the BBS, Facebook, etc but only see in person once a year at Cheaha, so this is something I will not miss.  I leave this Friday afternoon, and will return Sunday.  Yeah baby!

We have returned from the war, and we had a really good time.  I think that not fighting did remove some of the stress from the situation. My lady wife spent some time working registration as a volunteer, something she enjoys, as she gets to meet so many people from all around.  My brother seemed to have an excellent time also.  He spent much of his daytimes working volunteer as an instructor at the live weapons range, something he truly enjoys, and he also picked up a brand new longbow from a vendor there,  and it is sweet.

As usual for me, no good time goes unpunished, and in the midst of the good times, I developed some edema issues related to the heart failure, which is limiting my mobility,  and am working that out.  This also delays my getting back on my beloved motorscooters, which makes Clifton an unpleasant boy,  but again, I am working on it.

But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play? 

This week, I will be working through Wednesday, and my lady and I will leave Thursday morning for the big medieval war in Mississippi. This is an annual SCA event, and usually draws 4000+ folks. It runs all week, Sunday thru Sunday, but I am never able to get away the whole week. See:   www.gulfwars.org    It is a major event, mostly camping, but I don’t camp.

I have said before that these days, in my condition and at my age, my idea of roughing it is when the hotel room does not have free wifi,  and we *will* be roughing it - the only hotel within 35 miles is at the entrance to the ranch where the event is held, a 1950s-era 36-unit motel, originally a Holiday Inn, and still stuck in about the same time era; no wifi, no telephones in the rooms, and local TV stations from Hattiesburg.  The attendance is such that in order to get a room here during the war week, someone almost has to die to open up a room - Sandy and I were on the waiting list for 8 years, and must book for the whole week.

SCA members come from all over the US and Canada, spend the time eating, drinking, dancing, fighting, and all kinds of stuff, but mostly, they fight. It is a war, after all.  Back Sunday, probably exhausted, broke, and going back to work Monday.  See ya then.