Honda Pledges Generators, Equipment And More than $300,000 for Haitian Earthquake Relief

January 19 2010 Honda today announced a donation to the Red Cross of more than $300,000, as well as portable generators, water pumps, and other Honda products for use during humanitarian relief and recovery efforts in Haiti. The donation represents the collective contribution of the Honda family of companies in North America, which consists of sales, manufacturing, [...]

The evolution of a biker

I’m not going to talk in general about the evolution of a biker but I will tell you my story because looking back is kind of funny. About 2 days ago one of my friends saw my post on Parked Motorcycle Syndrome. He’s a car guy and I needed to explain a little how I [...]

Dealing with Parked Motorcycle Syndrome

What’s your way of dealing with the Parked Motorcycle Syndrome (PMS)? Here is mine: an nice glass of Chivas Regal aged 12 years, a Turkish nargilea, cozy leather chair and plenty Youtube. It almost makes PMS bearable.

Isle of Man TT race slow motion

Have you seen these slow motion movies from Isle of Man TT race 2009? Incredible the amount of deformation and movement a bike has at high speed. Whatch for the tires how they change shape in contact with the ground and how the entire bike stresses when reaching the ground after a airborne jump. Impressive. www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRpHJlaG_-U

HMSI’s new 110cc motorcycle launch

Dec 08, 2009 (The Economic Times – McClatchy-Tribune Information Services via COMTEX) TOKYO: Honda Motorcycle & Scooter India will avoid a direct confrontation with its sister company Hero Honda’s bread-and-butter models Splendor and Passion when it rides in its 110 cc motorcycle on Thursday, a top company official said. The wholly-owned subsidiary of Honda Motor Company [...]

The Retraction & The Wingman

I made an error of epic proportions last week in my blog about Brian’s bribe. Well, maybe epic is an overstatement.  I made an error still and must post this retraction.   I said last week that Brian’s previous attempts at hooking me up with a lady were less than stellar.  I talked about one cool chick that I was really into who would later turn off the faucet for no reason and actually went a little loopy while doing it and another gal that pretty much threw herself at me but wasn’t somewhere I really ended up wanting to go.  Those two stories about those girls are indeed accurate.  However, Brian’s role in them wasn’t quite what I made it out to be.   The gal that threw herself at me asked Brian for an intro and notification of interest.  I knew that there was a potential for interest on my part and that there was one for non-interest as well.  I went out with her and had a decent enough time.  When I got a call from Brian that he had wrapped up a show and wanted to take her to another bar/pub to meet up with him, she insisted I go without.  Then she undid all cool points she scored by whining about me choosing him over her.    First off, she insisted I go without her.  So, she asked for it.  Secondly (and I say this at the risk of sounding gay) no chick will ever be able to compete with Brian.  I did that before and when she left me, Brian was right there to help me pick up the pieces.  We’ve been through thick and thin together and have a bond that I sometimes consider stronger than the ones I share with my brothers.  I’ll happily include a romantic interest in my time with Brian, as I did this past weekend. But know better than to place one on a higher level than my brother from another mother.   The faucet gal threw me for a loop.  I met her at a show Brian was doing.  She is the daughter of one of his colleagues.  She struck me as really cool and my type of gal when we first met.  We went to a ballgame the next day with Brian and his housemate and had a blast.  I got all indication from her that she was really into me.  Later that night we actually took the police bike out for a scoot around Cincy and the indicators kept getting stronger and stronger.   I finally took her back home and made no attempt to close the deal.  I dug hanging out with this girl and didn’t want to her to think I was after another notch in her belt.  I offered up a kiss on the cheek and went on my way.   We exchanged texts and spoke on the phone for the next couple of weeks.  I wanted to hang with her again and invited her to ride with me before going to one of Brian’s shows.  She was down.   Then I got a text from her that she may have something to do and wasn’t sure if she could make it. I asked her to tell me by a certain time so I could make other plans if she wasn’t going to go.  She informed me at the predetermined deadline that she wasn’t going to be able to make it, but didn’t make it seem like she was busy with something else.   After a short conversation, I ascertained that she got the impression I wanted to tie myself down to one gal and she was my target. I don’t know what I did to give her that impression, but that wasn’t the case at all.  I musta done something to make her feel that what, because she felt so strongly about it that she kinda went a little loopy and brought a third party into the deal.   She was cool and I still wanted to hang with her from time to time, even if it was as just drinking buddies, so I let it go.  Pushing the issue any further would’ve made the whole deal weird and just plain not fun.  I don’t like weird and not fun, so I didn’t contact her for weeks, nay months.   Enough about those two girls, this is really about Brian and what makes a good wingman.   I failed to mention two incidents where Brian steered a gal my way that ended up in a positive.  One mutual friend took his advice and hung out with me.  We developed a trist lasting for a couple of months that was a source of great pleasure for me.  Another mutual friend that hung out with Brian and I has become somewhat of a student of my life philosophy.  I draw great pleasure from this knowing that someone looks to me the way this friend does.   So far, he’s batting .500!  In these successful attempts he just planted the seed and I took it from there.  Then there’s the times that he outright sold the target on me and I just reaped the rewards of his hard work.   One story I’ll share is about an event that transpired when I went to Indianapolis to see Brian play with G Miles & The Hitmen at the Slippery Noodle.   It didn’t take long for me to get into the zone and I began working the crowd making new friends and having a good old time.   There were several encounters with hotness, but the one that I wanted to pursue was with a group of five, four girls and one guy.  There was this smoking hot blonde that was throwing all kinds of indicators my way.  At first it started out with body language and then downright openly flirting with me.   The band took a break between sets and Brian wanted to introduce me to some new friends he had made.  Here’s where he started being a wingman.  A wingman doesn’t jump on the grenade; he builds social proof for his wing.   And that’s exactly what happened next.  When someone in the band comes down and seeks me out, my social value goes through the roof, especially at a crowded place and with a rockin’ band!  Then he drug me away to meet a group of girls, further increasing my social value to the blonde.  Not only am I cool guy to her but to the band and people that want to meet the band.   Brian and I chatted up these two new girls for a few minutes.  He said that they were going to go hang with us back at the band house after the show. The pair included a moderately cute autumn haired teacher with a rack that would stop traffic and a rather big girl that could probably have stopped cars with her bare hands.   I got the feeling I was being fat-friended.  I built up Brian a little bit and left after a few minutes to go back to my new blonde friend.  I love Brian and all, but I have the chance to score this smokin’ blonde or entertain the teacher’s fat friend… Well, you know what I’d do.   So, now I’m back at the table with the blonde and her friends and she really starts pouring it on.  She’s buying me drinks and doing her best to situate herself near me.  It was like a little dance.   And then, Brian put himself in a wingman class that few will ever be able to top.  The band stopped playing and he took the mic to point out a very special guest in the house, me.  It was a move that would later come back to haunt him.   “Everybody, there’s a very special friend of mine here all the way from Chillicothe, Ohio to hear me play tonight.  Please treat him well.  His name is Mike Newbern.  Where are you at Mike? Everybody give Mike a round of applause!”   It wasn’t very long after that surprise before the blonde was asking me to another bar.   “We’re going to so-and-so bar.  Come with us!  It will be fun!” she practically begged.   “Oh honey, I’m not sure if I should.  I’m here to hang out with my boy,” I replied.   “You’re going to a bar with four girls!  I’m sure he’ll understand,” she delicately whispered in my ear as she touched my leg.   “Yes, he would!” I replied.  “I’ll just go pay my bar tab and meet you guys at the front door.”   Now, this is where I failed.  I was hellbent on paying the bartab.  The bar was three deep and I couldn’t get in close to save my life.  I shoulda just given Brian some loot and left with the girls.  Instead, I stood in line for what seemed like hours trying to get paid up.  By the time, I was done they were nowhere to be found.   Worse yet, I could not remember the name of said bar they were going to.   The band was taking another break and I began relaying the story to Brian as we walked back over to teacher and the fat friend.  He berated me for not knowing the name of the bar.  I wasn’t worried.  There were plenty of other fish in that pond.   We chatted with teacher and fat friend for a while until Brian had to go back onstage.  Right after he left, teacher turned up the heat on me.  Now, I was really confused.  Was Brian winging me with teacher and gonna entertain the fat friend back at the band house.   Now, I know what you’re thinking right now. “But Mike, you said that a wingman doesn’t have to jump on the grenade.  You said that a wingman’s job is to build up his wing!”   Yes, but sometimes the wingman does have to divert the obstacle’s attention so his wing can focus on the target.   The band started playing and teacher was all over me.  Now, she’s my Plan B. Looks like I’m still on track to have a good night!   She kept saying how cool and personable I was.  I called her out on those statements and asked why she would be surprised. “Well, when Brian said you were a nuclear scientist, I thought you would be some social idiot who couldn’t carry on a conversation with an average person,” she said with a smile on her face.   “Wait a minute.  Brian told you I was a nuclear scientist?”   “Yeah that’s what he said.”   Now, a wingman’s job is to build up his wing.  But I never would’ve anticipated he would build me up as a nuclear scientist.  It’s kind of a stretch of the truth.  I work in nuclear in an engineering role, but a scientist I am not.   The deal was sealed.  This teacher wanted me all for herself and every other guy there was non-existent by this point. All we had to do was work out logistics.   The two girls went back to the band house with us and we hung out for a while drinking and snacking.  When Brian passed out face first in the toilet, party was over.  Teacher and I retired for a lesson in…   Sorry guys, this isn’t a dude harlequin romance piece!    The next morning we woke to a very pissed off Brian. As it turns out, the teacher was Brian’s intended slump buster.  In his efforts to build me up so I could reciprocate the social proof he actually turned the teacher on to me.   I didn’t know he was working her for himself.  When she turned on to me, I took it as the rewards of Brian’s efforts on my behalf.  He didn’t know it, but he was the perfect wingman that night!   Of course a wingman is also good for helping close deals lasting more than a night.  Just this past weekend, Brian was the perfect wing on a potential regular hang.  We hung out together with a new friend in tow. She saw just how cool my friends really are and how much fun she would have spending time with us.   That’s a true wingman.  No, that’s the wingman of  the century!

The Bribe, The Fibber, and The Double Douche

My best friend, Brian, called me a couple of weeks ago with a bribe. I was all excited. What kinda bribe would he have in store? Would he have some tickets to a kickass metal show? Probably not. He’s not really into metal and he’d probably rather get some tickets to something we could enjoy together. Maybe it was some Reds tickets? That would be cool. Did he have a young lady I may have met once and wanted to see me again that he was going to ‘arrange’ her conveniently being in the same area he was going to take me to? Well as much as I love women, Brian’s history with those efforts is one of less than stellar performance. One girl that I was really into acted like she was into me and then all of the sudden turned off the faucet. Another girl that was really into me, I wasn’t so much into and when we did go out, I came to find that she’s not as laid back as she makes herself out to be. Plus, I prefer younger women and Brian likes them our age or older. My current romantic interest is six years my junior and his is a year older than him. Did he have a bottle of some grade ‘A’ spirits we would drink in celebration of something? Brian and I enjoy the grade ‘A’ spirits all the time for no celebration other than living. As much as he was playing up this bribe, I doubted that was it. When he finally told me, I was surprised to say the least! Brian was having his girlfriend come in from Chicago and wanted the three of us to hang together last weekend. Ok, that may be special for him but what did I care? Girls come and go out of our lives all the time. What makes her so special? In case you missed it, I did use the term ‘girlfriend.’ Brian actually used it and I was floored. A lot of people toss around certain words with ease and ‘girlfriend’ is one. Brian and I don’t. We’ve both been through a string of female companions, romantic interests, and friends with benefits in the past couple of years but have yet to have one that was special enough to call a girlfriend. There had to be something special about this one. I was interested in meeting her. Oh, and Brian was getting us a couple of rooms at the Mariott and we were going to party righteously rockstar style! I wasn’t able to leave Chillicothe until later than I really wanted to. Brian was playing that night with G Miles and the Hitmen at The Madison Theater. They were opening for Dilbert Mcclinton and had an earlier than usual curtain time. I finally got there with about two tunes left in their set. After the set was over, Brian’s girlfriend located me. I had asked him to send me a picture of her or at least describe what she was wearing in a text, so I’d know who to look for. I guess he thought it would be funnier if I wandered around the place looking stupid instead. I figured that the band’s set would be over soon and I would just find Brian afterwards. Instead of looking for Brian’s girl, I decided to try to make some new friends. And that’s when she found me. A sexy voice called my name from afar. I immediately turned to see a flaxen haired fair skin alluring creature of the fairer sex walking my way. At first, I was excited. This excitement quickly turned to fear as she began approaching and I couldn’t remember her name or where I knew her from. She offered her hand and said, “My name’s Poopie. I’m Brian’s friend!” And a wave of relief passed over me. Yes I know, Poopie is one heck of a name for a girl. It’s not actually her real name. It’s a name I heard Brian calling her when he thought I wasn’t listening. So, out of respect for her privacy and total disregard for his, I’ll call her Poopie. Now, Poopie was quite the looker. I could definitely see why Brian was interested in the wrapping. Brian and I both think hot chicks area a dime a dozen, so I knew there was some sorta coolness and brains in that total package. I would later discover that she was a forensics DNA scientist or something like that. Wow, she had a big brain too! I followed her in hopes of meeting Brian. I was longing for some libations born of natural sulfur free spring water and didn’t want to imbibe without him. When she instructed me to have a seat, I noticed that I was at a table of gorgeous women and no dudes! My life went from ok to fantabulous in a moment. The bevy of beautiful babes perched at this table was bountiful and babealicious! I had to pinch myself to make sure that I was still alive. As it turns out, I knew them! They were either girlfriends or wives of the guys in G Miles & The Hitmen. This was even better. Being surrounded by gorgeous women makes other chicks find you desirable. The fact that I was with them and there was nothing sexual between any of us drives that up. The thought process is that this guy is surrounded by beautiful women and he’s not hitting on them like it doesn’t matter and he’s around beautiful women all the time. This makes you seem safe and socially aware. I was planning on using this perception to my advantage. Only, I made a mistake and told one of them later on that evening. I also think Brian said earlier that he was on a wingman mission. This would eventually be an asswhoop for me as Big ‘D’ was all about going to places where I was sure to get laid. I kinda made me feel like I seemed pathetic and I’m not all about that. I am not outcome dependent. I just like to have fun and enjoy the ride that is my life. When I meet some neat people and make new friends, cool. When I meet a cute and fun young lady and we hit it off, great. When she decides that I am special enough to invite me to her bed or accompany me into mine, sweet. That whole experience just adds to my already kickass life! Brian finally made his appearance! Jack followed shortly thereafter. When I asked, “oh, it’s gonna be one of those nights!” I knew I was in for some hell raisin’. Dilbert McClinton hit the stage and the rest of the guys from G Miles joined us. This Dilbert guy was playing some old country style blues. I dug it. I did notice that he looked like a drunk and high Burt Reynolds when he sang though. Maybe he was drunk and high, I dunno. I did some dancing, got felt up a little, and then returned to my friends to announce that I was hungry. We settled on a Cajun place down the road and began walking or cabbin’, I can’t really remember. It was one of those kind of nights remember? We walked and there was a four piece jazz band playing on a stage behind the bar. The sax player looked shockingly like Brian’s Old Man. It was eerie. The band was fab and I was really enjoying the etouffee. But there was this tractor beam pulling me towards the back of the place. I kept seeing hot chicks in formal attire walking around me to the back room. I had to see what was in there. I stood my happy ass up and waltzed right in like I owned the place. There were loads of hot chicks all dolled up, food all over the place, and people in black bowties handing out drinks. I thought I had died and gone to heaven! That feeling lasted for about five seconds until one of the bigger guys wearing a bowtie asked me if I needed any help. “Dude, I’m here for the party!” “Sir, I think you may be looking for something else. I believe your party’s over there,” he said as he pointing over my shoulder. “But I wanna be here!” “Sir, the restroom is right over there. Would you like me to help you find it?” Luckily for me, I was still sober enough to realize this was a polite yet firm way of telling me to leave. My presence wasn’t welcome there and should I decide to disobey his direction, I would be forcefully helped out. I couldn’t tell you how many of them it would’ve taken to help me out, but I could’ve guessed how many of them there would be. The night was still young and I had no desire to have my head pounding that early. I took his advice and went to the bathroom. When I walked back into the main dining area, I felt some water hit me. I looked around trying to find a leak somewhere. I guess the bartender saw this and admitted to splashing some water on me by accident. This was good as I started drinking for free, again! From there we walked across the street to a quaint little bar upstairs from another restaurant. The pickins was slim in this place. Actually, it was nearly non-existent. Brian and his friends were buying me drinks and I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I was staying. My desire to stay slowly started to morph into a burning desire to toss myself out the window and on to the street below. That solo guitar guy act was depressing. He played the saddest, most downtrodden version of Billy Jean I have ever heard. This guy was like an dismal version of the Four Non-Blondes all rolled into one package with a penis. I announced I had to leave and the rest of the group couldn’t agree more. We did a little pub crawlin’ into a bunch of places that Dee was certain I was going to ‘get laid in.’ I really just wanted to enjoy the company of my friends and have a few drinks. Every bar/pub I went to was lame on some level and I would want to leave. I finished my beer fast and was on to the next one. This led to a lot of beer drinking. A lot of beer drinking. I started the night with a wad o’ cash in my pocket and by now, it was empty. We made it back to Mariott and in true Brian and Mike fashion, we pulled out a bottle of whiskey and sat around talking about life. I quickly figured out why Brian was so excited about the night. He was with friends he loved. As it turns out, Poopie and Brian are old friends from college. I’m not going to presume anything but did observe some flirtiness and boyfriend/girlfriend interactions. Now, I’m not saying he loves her on a romantic level, but definitely on a platonic one. That’s always a good basis for a romantic relationship. Poopie is going through a divorce from an epically tragic douchebag optometrist. This Ed Hardy wearing mooseknuckle ran out on his marriage with some blonde hottie gold digger to Europe. He blew his whole wad on the Paris Hilton wannabe and has nothing to show for it except for a divorce suit. Good job there, Mr Pretentious Sugar-Coated Prick! We talked about eye doctor douche for a while and the layers of his douchery just got thicker and thicker. The more we peeled away, the thicker it became. I found out that he’s into role playing games and martial arts. He’s not into the kind martial arts where you kick ass or defend yourself. No, No, eye doctor douche likes the kind that’s more like ballet. He also blogs about it and his RPG experiences. Not only is his life so boring he has to live a made up one in cyberspace, but he goes to cyberspace to tell all of the other virgins in his clan about it. I know he’s not physically a virgin, but his emotional status has reverted back to that. He also blogs about his trials in separation from Poopie, calling her ‘Ex-Wife Lord 3000’. What a motard! There’s no way he’s been like that his entire life. Poopie is just too cool to ever have hooked up with, much less marry such a fuckstick. I woke the next day early, around noon. Brian and Poopie had already been out to eat and wanted to go to the Cincinnati Museum Center. This is a rally neat place. I had been there before but didn’t remember until Brian reminded me it looked like the Hall of Justice, doo deedle deedle doo. Hey, you can’t say Hall of Justice, doo deedle deedle doo, without singing that little soundbyte afterwards. We pulled up to the parking lot attendant’s booth and asked her what her super-power was. I mean, she was after all working at the Hall of Justice, doo deedle deedle doo. When she wouldn’t tell us feigning some lack of knowledge of her super-power we ascertained it was shooting photons out of her nose ring. And then she laughed a happy laugh instead of an evil one and we knew the car was safe in her care. The museum is the museum. I’m not going to go on and on telling you how cool it was. I will however tell you about the picture I wanted with the woolly mammoth. You see, there’s a woolly mammoth dying a violent death in a freezing pool of water while being pulled down by the ice in the Ice Age Cavern. I’ve always wanted a picture of me strangling a woolly mammoth. The mammoth was close to the edge and I didn’t have to leap very far across the water to make my way to his neck for said picture. Unfortunately, Brian and Poopie didn’t think this was as good as an idea as I and began protesting the second I was on top of the mammoth. Sorry, no picture. We went back to the hotel, took a power nap, and left for a music festival Brian was playing with G Miles & The Hitmen. It was a neato little festival. I really liked that it had beer. Once we were done there, we moved over to the Midway. The Midway is a great place right in Fort Thomas. The food’s good and the beer is cheap. We sat at our usual table and ordered some drinks. I surveyed the landscape and noticed a couple of guys wearing UK hats. I just couldn’t resist. I walked up to the bar and gave them a rationing of shit. I was so interested in the shit slinging that I didn’t even notice the cutie sitting right next to wear I was standing. She immediately acted interested in me and what I had to say. We talked about football and out of nowhere, not even with a little prompting by me, she said, “Well, buy me a shot and we’ll talk about it more!” Oh yeah, like I’m gonna let her use me for free drinks that easily. “I tell you what. I’m sitting right over there. You come on and join us and I’ll think about it.” Not only did she join us, but she followed me. I thought, “Damn, this bitch must be thirsty!” Now, I have to tell you that I saw right through her initial efforts to have me buy her a shot. But as she made her presence at the table known by crushing my ego, I felt a challenge. We were having a battle of wits and I was losing. After three rounds I was down one. She was getting a shot. This was just too entertaining for me. But still, I wasn’t convinced that she was there for anything other than some drinks. She said that she didn’t hit on guys she didn’t like for drinks as there was too much room for confusion and bad vibes. Yeah, whatever. I don’t buy that for a second. But, like I said she was entertaining and I figured it was worth $3. Plus we agreed to buy a round at a time, so she would eventually have to make up for it. She had a pretty storied past. She had just wrecked her car and got a DUI for it, but she was the Midway waiting for her parents to come from the music festival Brian just played at and take them home in their car. That didn’t quite add up. Why would it be a better decision for her to drive her parents home in their car when she had the DUI. She explained that they had been drinking. Duh, what was she doing? She also told me that she made an appearance on GodsGirls.com when she showed me her tattoos. GodsGirls.com is a competitor to SuicideGirls.com, a site I’ve been published on, so I knew of it. She told me she was Suzie Slaughter on GodGirls.com. She also talked about how she tried stripping for a night and she did suspension shows from time to time. I told her that I knew of GodsGirls.com and have submitted stuff to them in the past and that I was published on SuicideGirls.com. She said that she didn’t want to SG because they didn’t pay enough. I know what she meant. I haven’t shot for SG in some time. She was working towards a master’s in hospitality management at Ohio State. She got her culinary bachelors from somewhere I can’t remember and did her internship in Italy. She had been to loads of different places, mostly Europe and Africa. When she said South Africa, Brian’s ears perked up. All of this at the ripe old age of 23. Brian bought the next round of shots and started talking about South Africa. I never really heard her answer of his questions. As a matter of fact now that I think about, she changed the subject pretty quickly. Right after that she sent a text to her best friend who was in Italy doing her internship. We were getting ready to head to Terry’s Turf Club in Cincinnati to hear Brian play some real in your face jazz. She wanted to join us. Everybody was game. All we had to do was have the last round of shots. You remember, the one she was supposed to buy? I asked her what she was going to buy for her round. Oh, she explained that she didn’t have the money to buy any drinks because she was paying for her school all buy herself with no loans or financial aid. Brian felt sympathetic and let it pass. I don’t know if I bought it so much, but I let it pass. By this time, she had grabbed my twigs and berries twice and was touching me on the arm and shoulder quite frequently. She was also high-fiving a lot, which I found annoying after like the twentieth time. Her phone rings. It’s the ‘rents. She has to leave to go pick them up and take them home. She informs us that they live just down the road and the trip should only take her 20 minutes or so. This made me curious. Brian lives maybe five minutes by car and we can walk it about 10. Cab fare is less than $5. Why weren’t they taking a cab if they had planned on drinking? I guess poor planning runs in her family. She did claim to have just gotten a DUI. She walked out the door and it dawned on me. I was never going to see her again. That hour or so of entertainment only cost me $3, so it was worth it. We exchanged a couple of texts. She kept promising she was on her way back and wanted to go to Terry’s with us. 20 minutes turned into 40 and before you knew it an hour had passed. It was time to go to Terry’s and the wait for her return was an asswhoop. I texted her, “We’re bouncing. See ya there!” I chose this instead of something like “It was nice to meet you” or “Take it easy” because I didn’t want it to come across as a deal closer. I knew it was though. By the time we got to Terry’s a light drizzle that set in. We walked in and immediate found out that this place was way more popular than the number of seats it held. Standing outside wasn’t such a desirable option, as it was raining and some smokers were underneath an awning leaving very little room for anybody else, even more smokers. A spot finally opened up at a back table and we sat down. We ordered our burgers with anticipation just in time to mosey on over to a better table. We perched up on the seats right up front and settled in for a night of great jazz. The burgers were delicious. I can definitely understand why Food Network Magazine picked Terry’s as Ohio’s best place to get burgers. I measure my burgers by how many napkins it takes to eat them. These were five napkin burgers! Just as we finished up our burgers and were talking with the drummer, a raging douchebag walked up to our table and asked the drummer if he could grab his sticks and play on his set. I think I may have met eye doctor douche’s Cincinnati version. This blonde Hurley shirt wearing spike hair having douche retard kept on asking, nay begging, the drummer to play his set. The drummer guy was handling it all diplomatically, saying that the restaurant didn’t like it when people started banging on stuff during breaks and that he was scared douchebag would take his job. This guy wouldn’t stop. He kept on for maybe two minutes. I had enough. “Dude, what’s your job?” I asked. “I’m a landscaper,” he replied. “Well this analogy is probably lost on you, because you’re dying for people to use your equipment and help you out. But he’s not. He doesn’t want you touching his set. Go away!” “You’re an asshole! I used to play drums in high school. I know what I’m doing.” “Just go away!” I said as I was thinking that I ride a lawn tractor twice a week but that doesn’t qualify me to run a landscaping business. Or maybe it does? Douche went away, but not before tossing more insults at me. I have to admit, I kinda wanted to pummel that dweeb into a little pulpy mess and shove him into his own beer bottle. But, I was getting my way. He was leaving. But, Butthead kept running his mouth! “Dude, shut up! I’ve dropped it and you’re still running your mouth. Shut the fuck up! Seriously!” Now people were getting nervous. Some of the restaurant workers came over to block any attempts either one of us would make jumping at the other. Brian was trying his best to diffuse the situation with talk of logic and reason. But Butthead douche wasn’t hearing it. He kept on running his mouth as his friend and friend’s girlfriend ushered him out. Now, I really won. He has to leave and I get to stay and hear some great jazz. What a dumbass. Speaking of dumbasses, I woke Sunday morning and checked GodsGirls.com for Suzie Slaughter. Not only is there not a Suzie Slaughter on GodsGirls.com, but there’s not even a Suzie or a Slaughter. Hell, there’s not even a Slaughter for that matter. I couldn’t resist. I texted Little Miss Liar, Liar Pants on Fire and said, “You’re quite the storyteller. I checked out God’sGirls.com this morning and didn’t see any Suzie, much less a Suzie Slaughter. “I, however, didn’t lie. You can see for yourself at http://www.MichaelNewbern.com. “I don’t think I list SG as a publishing credit, but I do list most of my others. “All bark and no bite makes Suzie Slaughter the loser last night.”

The DC Ride to Make History

A friend and I rode to DC from Chillicothe, OH and back last weekend. We went to DC to march in the 9/12 TEA Party protest. I wrote about that day in a separate blog you can read here. Instead, I’m going to use this blog to write about the ride there and back. I came across the TEA Party just a few weeks ago. I remembered hearing about it in passing and decided to look it up. A few clicks on Google and I found that a rally was being scheduled in DC for 9/12/09. Now, I have to admit. I was eager to march on the Capital and sound off my voice of opposition of big government. I was also eager to ride to DC over those mountains in West Virginia. One reason gave credence to the other. I’ll ride by myself. I have no problem with that at all. I regularly ride the 388 miles to Nashville and back alone. There’s also something to be said for riding with a friend or a group of friends. I was prepared to ride this all by myself. As the time drew nearer, finding someone to ride with was looking more and more bleak. Then out of nowhere, I was talking to an old friend of mine that lives near Nashville. She wasn’t feeling so hot about a couple of situations in her life. I could sense she needed to get away for a while and let her worries wisp away in the wind. When she said that she was looking forward to a weeklong vacation, I knew exactly what I had to do. “Hey, come with me to DC to march on the Capital!” I ordered. “It’ll be good for you. I’m going to ride the whole way there and back. I really don’t wanna go alone and you need to get out of dodge for a bit. You should come!” She thought about for a couple of hours and texted me back later that she would love to go. I started making travel arrangements like mapping out the route and booking the hotels. I also instructed her on what she would need for the trip. She had never ridden anymore than a couple of hours at a stretch and really had no clue what to expect on a three-day 1,100 mile ride. I’ve done it a few times. I’ve learned most of my lessons the hard way and have been smart enough to listen to some old timers for the others. Being prepared is easy and can save you loads of headache in the long-run. Preparedness usually comes with packing the appropriate gear. Here’s my list:Clothing needs to be comfortable and weather appropriate. Since we were leaving an 80 degree climate to ride over the mountains sometimes at elevations of 3,500 feet, we needed to be prepared for the changes in temperatures. I pack one pair of jeans, socks, underwear, and a t-shirt per day and an extra set in case I get soaked midday. I also packed a long sleeve shirt and wore one on the initial ride. Layering is the most effective means of staying warm and being able to dress down to stay cool at the same time.We also had enough room to pack leathers. I’m glad I did. My jacket is pretty versatile with its zip out liner and ample ventilation ports, so the switch from cool to warm wasn’t so bad. Well, except for once.Toiletries. I mean you wanna stay clean. Nothing helps you sleep better than a nice warm shower and going to bed feeling all clean!Rain gear. Dusty, my companion for the ride, didn’t own any rain gear. I advised her to go out and pick up some Frogg Toggs. They’re relatively inexpensive and do a good enough job for the value. You don’t get a set of boot covers with the Frogg Toggs and there are some other sacrifices you make for the price, but they would suit her just fine. You have to remember, this was a one time trip for Dusty. Investing in a quality riding rain suit would’ve been a little much.Sunscreen. Yes, even in the cold and/or under an overcast, you may very well regret not wearing sunscreen. On a motorcycle, a sunburn is compounded by windburn. Neither are very comfortable. Added together and you have a bad day on your hands.Lip balm. It’s sunscreen for your lips There were also a couple of other travel tips I offered up that don’t include packing, such as:Drink lots of water. Riding a motorcycle dehydrates you. The wind rushing over your exposed skin is the culprit. Drinking lots of water, not soda or coffee, will keep you from getting a headache in the most mild cases of dehydration and could advert a hospital stay in the event of a severe case.Wear earplugs. It’s a wind thing again. Riding with a full-face helmet alleviates this need. Any helmet where your ears are exposed may require the use of earplugs. I have a windshield on my police cruiser which helps some. But for really long hauls, like 1,100 miles in three days, you’re gonna wish you had plugged your ears.Layer. I covered that above.Share your route with friends that won’t be riding with you and check in with them from time to time. The larger the group, the less you need to do this. It would just be the two of us on one bike riding through some pretty remote areas. We needed to let people know where we would be. I never wanted to do this growing up, but it’s a good idea. We finally got the scooter all packed up and headed out. The temperature was a warm 80 degrees which led Dusty to question my use of a long sleeve shirt. I explained that what feels nice now, will be cooler scootin’ down the highway at 80 miles an hour. She took my advice and is glad for it. We wouldn’t be doing much scenic riding to DC. We mostly needed to get there. I did opt for a northerly route through Pennsylvania because, well, I wanted to mark it off my map. I was initially worried about Dusty and how she’d be able to handle riding over the mountains and the associated twisties. I used to instruct my female passengers to just look over the shoulder on the same side as the direction I’m turning as I turn. I got this technique from a riding coach and had hit or miss success with it. Rather than taking a more passive role as a passenger, some of them would end up being more active in the turn by actually shifting their bodies into the lean. I decided I would try something a little different with Dusty. I told her about the look and lean principle, but downplayed it. Instead I asked that she fix her stare over one shoulder and try to keep her shoulders aligned with mine. The goal was to turn her into the same kind of weight in the back as a heavy bag died down to the rear seat. And it worked! She took that instruction very well and was actually a pleasant passenger to have aboard. It was like she had been riding for years. She definitely made my job easier and allowed me to focus on other tasks. By the time we made our way into the Allegheny Mountains, she was so seasoned I almost forgot she was even there! The ride there was pretty uneventful until we hit the peak on the ridge and began our descent. A storm front had moved in and from the top of the mountains all I could see in our path was rain. The night was starting to move in making the scenario even less desirable. It’s one thing to ride in the rain. It’s one thing to ride at night. It’s one thing to ride in an area unfamiliar to you. Riding in the rain at night in an area you’re not familiar with is something completely different altogether. I didn’t want to tell Dusty and make her nervous, but once the sun set and the rain set in, my fun quotient dropped exponentially. Normally, riding for me is fun and is very little work. I’ve been doing it so long and have practiced advanced techniques so much that even the most aggressive of twisties are a breeze. However, I had to work once the sun set. I found myself trying to follow cars so I would know how deep a corner was. My glasses were collecting water droplets which made the lights oncoming traffic more blinding. The last hour of the day took so much of my concentration and focus that it tired me more than the previous eight or nine. We made it to the Aloft Dulles Hotel around 9:30 pm and were greeted by bright neons across the entire rainbow spectrum. Once I walked inside (Dusty stayed with the bike since the nightclub there was hoppin’), I was greeted by a smiling Priscilla. I knew we were in for a resting stay. I don’t wanna make this a review for the hotel, so I’ll be brief. The Aloft is a moderately priced, upscale, modern hotel with a touch of Aloha. The staff was friendly and helpful. Despite the lack of restaurants in the area, we were able to select from a variety of food possibilities and had our dinner delivered. This hotel is my first choice when going back to the DC area. We woke refreshed the next morning and ready to tackle the day. The ride into DC wasn’t as bad as we had anticipated. Traffic was just starting to pick up the usual cager offenses followed the trend. They get more egregious in populated areas. Parking on the other hand was a nightmare. Once I got the bike parked and started to lock everything up, another rider pulled up and took up the plot of pavement next to me. I welcomed this as there’s safety in numbers. We talked about riding and the protest as he locked up his ride and then we made our way into the crowd. After Dusty and I were done protesting, we made our way back to the bike. We started to get ready and I sat down on the curb behind it. From this vantage point, I could see the rear tire plain as day. It was not good. That tire needed to be replaced. It needed to be replaced before we left. However, I failed to perform a proper check and identify that need. I started to get that sinking feeling in my stomach. It was around 2 and I had no idea where the nearest dealership was. Make fun all you like, but I like Harley Dunlops. Technology is awesome! Between my Palm Treo 800W and my Magellan Maestro GPS, I was able to locate the nearest dealership. We verified this information with GPS 0.1 (the Harley Ride Atlas). I made a phone call and set up a tire change. We made our way to Patriot Harley in Fairfax, VA. It was a short ride, about half an hour. We dropped off the bike and walked next door to have some sushi. I love sushi! I’m not able to find any sushi around these parts. The closest sushi I’ve been able to find is in Columbus and Cincinnati. So, when the guy at the shop told us we could find some good sushi next door, I couldn’t wait to get over there. Dusty said she liked sushi. But she only likes the kind without raw seafood. That’s fine there’s still loads of other great stuff you can get. We decided on a Fairfax roll and a Harley roll. Just after we ordered, Dusty pointed to a picture of some prawns on a placard at the table. She made a comment about how gross they looked and asked what they were. Once I explained, I thought she wouldn’t think they were so gross. Instead she told me how she can’t eat anything with a face on it and how she had just eaten peel and eat shrimp in the past couple of years. Well, now she was gonna eat a prawn! I ordered a couple of prawns. They came out on a bed of cold rice noodles. Man, they looked yummy! I told Dusty how to eat them and teared right into mine. I guess she missed the demonstration on how to get the tail off, because she asked me and looked at it all confused. I just took it off for her. It’s not like we had a bucket full of mudbugs and she could screw one up learning. She gladly at the tail once I told her that was basically a fried shrimp. The rest of he prawn? Not so much. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get her to do anything more than feign an attempt at sucking the head. We had a while to kill, so we started talking. Next thing you know we were talking about all of this metaphysical stuff. I was explaining some of my theories and she was sharing hers. It was a pleasant discussion with someone that held some opposing views and some similar views. We walked back to the dealership. I settled up with the bike and we were on our way. We had about an hour to our lodging for the night and it was still pretty early. This was good as we spent the better part of the day walking around DC had still 500 miles through the mountains of West Virginia the next day. We pulled up to Travel Lodge in Winchester, VA close to dusk. I pointed out that someone must be getting married nearby as there were young women all dressed in matching gowns loitering near one car. When I went back outside to unpack the bike, I discovered that they ceremony (or at least the reception) was actually taking place at the Travel Lodge. The girls were painting up the couple’s getaway car! That’s right! We were staying at the fancy hotel in town! We was some high falutin’ travelers! We had ayasked for the ‘no cockroach’ room, but they musta misundastood. It’s all gud though! Dusty only had to skwash one. Although the temptation to crash the wedding reception being held mere doors from our room was quite alluring, we decided to just rest instead. We walked to a restaurant to have a cocktail, but then took it to a liquor store once we saw the ‘Church of the Month’ poster on the front door. Well, actually we couldn’t find a spot at the bar and decided to leave. The poster reference just sounded better! We got back to the room, poured a couple of drinks, turned on the news to see some coverage of the rally, and mapped out our route for the next day before drifting off to sleep. The next morning, we hit the road bright and early. Well, it was early. I don’t so much about bright. The sun was trying to peek out, but the clouds were having none of it. The last day was the one I was looking forward to. Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy taking part in the rally. But, I was ready to ride some mountains. I had high hopes! And I was not disappointed! I’ve ridden some great roads, like The Blue Ridge Parkway, The Cherohala Skyway, and The Tail of the Dragon and riding through the Monongahela National Forrest rivaled the best of motorcycle adventures. The roads are well-maintained and offer plenty of visibility. The corners vary from wide and sweeping to harsh and hairpin. There’s even a couple of switchbacks. I could barely get enough of it! And to top it all off, it was Sunday afternoon and we encountered very little traffic! That’s about the time we made our trek off the mountain and into a serene little valley. We found a quaint little country restaurant. I opted for the country fried steak and Dusty had some sorta beef tips on toast. It was filling, but I wouldn’t seek the place out again should I be back out that way. The rest of the ride was freeway and we needed to make some good time. I had an early morning the next day and would be hurting from the lack of rest. We made it home around dusk, give or take, and settled in to watch some Sunday Night Football. I think it was the Packers and Bears, but I can’t really remember. It was a great trip, one that I will remember fondly for some time to come. You can see some pics of the trip we took including some Dusty took from the back of the bike in the photogallery. Below is a map of our route. View Ride to DC for the 9/12 Project March in a larger map

Triumph Norton Bsa 1 1/2? Exhaust Muffler Clamps Chrome

From Jacqui Van Ham - Vintage Motorcycles - 40mm ignition coil brackets Triumph Norton BSA 54419974 US $14.00 (0 Bid) End Date: Tuesday Feb-09-2010 19:01:34 PSTBuy It Now for only: US $16.50Bid now | Buy it now | Add to watch list SHOCKS covered 12 7/8″ Triumph Norton BSA 64054506/4164 US $90.00 (0 Bid) End Date: Tuesday Feb-09-2010 19:01:34 PSTBuy It Now for only: US $100.00Bid [...]… Continue

Triumph Motorcycle Skull T Shirt Bsa Norton Vintage L

From Jacqui Van Ham - Vintage Motorcycles - Free Hip Hop Beats… Continue

?The sky is falling? as local news reports a storm

From Sojourn Chronicles - I recognize that every locale measures storms differently. Having lived in northern Indiana for 14 years, and northern Illinois for 20 years before that, I have a little experience with winter storms. I am still amazed that just the threat of snow causes school closings here in the Cincinnati area. In South Bend, IN, there [...] Related posts:Book Fair Brings Out Local Authors More reflection on 2009, one big decision Riding to the Bike Wash… Continue

Crucial tips for the backyard motorcycle builder

If you’re planning to chop your old triumph or thinking of building a chopper, bobber or what ever you wanna call it, here’s a good resource for some killer advice. Lowbrow Customs who specialize in parts for triumph bobbers and hard to find motorcycle parts have a tech tips section that I believe you will [...]

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Two Wheel Terrors II, DVD review

Two Wheel Terrors 2 is the latest movie from the Vanschyndel brothers in the lines of the skater movie like motorcycle DVD’s that has been surfacing over the last few years. Two Wheel Terrors 2 is stuffed with cool motorcycles covering everything, I think, except crotch rockets and big touring bikes. But mostly it’s a tribute [...]

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Panther shaped motorcycle

You see some weird shit now and again, and this one is in the red. English interior designer, Barrend Massow built a panther shaped motorcycle. I totally recognize the effort and amount of work a project like this must have demanded. I more than respect the ability to take a crazy idea to a finished [...]

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Bye Bye OCC!

The motorcycle industry is going through some very hard times right now. Most of our problems are not our own fault. The country is suffering on all fronts and most people don’t have that extra spending money right now to indulge themselves on toys. That’s fair enough and I can respect and understand that. I have been around long enough to have weathered many ups and down in this business.

Today when I got the news that OCC, aka American Chopper, is airing their last show this Thursday I was THRILLED! These clowns are only partly a victim of the bad economy. They destroyed themselves in a run of selfishness and excess in a time when the country is hurting. Ok, fine, so they made millions selling their dysfunctional family fights to the cable networks. Who intern made millions selling advertising time to corporations. I know how the world works.

After this week they will be history and us in the motorcycle industry can hold our heads high again and not be ashamed. I can’t stress to you folks enough how the motorcycle industry HATED those ass whipes. Everyone from us local bike shops all the way up to the motorcycle industry top movers and shakers would roll their eyes when ever OCC was mentioned.
They had their 15 minutes for fame ( along with a few others ) but for the most part the "custom" motorcycle business is dead. Right now and for the foreseeable future the motorcycle business is shrinking back to the basic nuts and bolts. Folks that did not sell their bikes are just doing what they can to keep them on the road. Gone are the days of spending 5, 10, 15.....30 grand on chrome crap and paint. Owning a Harley right now is a lot like owning a house. Most are not worth what their owners owe on them! So it doesn’t make much sense to add more junk to them. I had a guy just the other day complaining to me he can’t even afford a new battery for his bike this year and might not put it on the road.. Its THAT bad out there!

Some people are all up in arms, but not me. I look forward to the industry getting back to basics. The days of the Mega-Mart bike shops are very numbered. In tough times they can’t turn the volume of business needed to support the massive overhead they have just to keep the doors open. Most of the shops that are surviving are the small ones that resisted the "up-scaling" that the OEM’s were forcing down our throats.