Always On Watch

***WARNING***
***ADULT LANGUAGE AHEAD***

On this cusp of this holiday weekend, I was reminded of the necessary vigilance those of us who stand against domestic violence must hold.

While at my bank, getting a little cash for the weekend, one of the tellers that I know returned from lunch. She seemed a little shaken as she sat at her station. I welcome her back from lunch and ask what was wrong.

Her and her boyfriend went to eat at a local fast-food joint, and while leaving they witness a man beating the hell out of his wife in the parking lot. Her shirt was ripped off and blood ran down her face, staining her jeans, dripping to the ground.

While tens of FUCKING COWARDS walked by, doing NOTHING, the teller and her boyfriend call the police and drive up to the incident. She gave the poor woman a shirt to cover her while her boyfriend took pictures of the BASTARD'S car and license plate as he left.

Domestic violence can happen ANYWHERE, ANYTIME! If you see it, at least call the police!!! Domestic Violence is EVERYONE'S business! Get off your ass and do something!!! Don't be a FUCKING COWARD! Stand up for a fellow human being! Break it up! You may get punched or hurt, but that one action may save a life!

And don't forget, men, yes MEN can be abused as well. If you see a woman smacking a man around, don't simply think, "hehe good for her. I wonder what he did to deserve that?"

Maybe, just maybe... he did nothing. Abuse knows no gender, race, religious or sexual orientation boundaries.

And to those who would beat their spouse, boyfriend or girlfriend... A warning... Hear those Harley pipes thumping? It may be me... You don't scare me.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

From Today's Bad Idea File

Nice poster. Originally from the National Association of State Motorcycle Safety Administrators.

Curious Quandries and Commentaries

Here is a quick one.

How is it I can resize images for blogger in Internet Explorer and Firefox, but not Chrome?

Motorcycle wrenching, for one reason or another, brings out my curiosity. Why is there loc-tite on those bolts? Why is there is snap ring on that shaft? Does this hose actually go anywhere? What idiot designed this? Why does six months on match.com cost $15 where three months cost $17?

Yes, my juices of curiosity were flowing last night after taking my Sporty's clutch partially apart. Seriously, I am starting to like the mechanics of Harley Davidson motorcycles. The engine and clutch are elegant in their simplicity and quite easy to wrench with the right tools.

But, I digress. Curious...

A week or so ago, after an episode of wrenching, I joined bikerornot.com at the suggestion of another rider. "It's not just for dating. It is like a cross between MySpace and Match.com," he tells me.

OK, so out of curiosity I join. Not that I am looking to date or even get into another relationship. Looking for nothing, just curious. Sure enough, it seems to be a nice, laid back social networking site for "Bikers or not".

Last week or so, a woman I know offered her services to set up a few dates for me. Curious. I declined but did put her on retainer.

So, out of curiosity last night, I joined match.com Curiosity. Perhaps there should be more feeling in this, but the voice of Spock just echos in my head... "Curious"

Now, Here's Your Problem

Well, I adjusted the throwout last night and Athena ran beautifully. Twenty miles of night time Las Vegas asphalt and she was clutching without missing a beat. This morning she flew down I-95 one my daily commute without a single complaint.

Lunch time errands included a lot of stop and go surface traffic. Up and down East Tropicana and Flamingo typically requires a lot of clutching and braking. Arriving at work, the clutch handle was getting loose again, but there was little worry. I knew how to fix it.

On the way home from work I pulled into the parking lot of the smoke shop I frequent. While riding around in first, slipping the clutch, searching for a parking spot, there was a pop. The clutch handle plunged back to the grip while Athena lurched forward. Only way to stop was to hit the kill switch.

So, without clutch, we limped the two miles back to the house. Brings back memories of the little 50 CC Honda dirt bike I rode in grade school. When its clutch cable snapped I learned the fine art of motorcycle riding without a clutch. Even though Athena is about 450 pounds heavier than the Honda, the principals of clutch-less riding are the same.

I get to the house, grab a Red Bull and remove the derby cover. Guess what tumbles out. The clutch throwout assembly. (above pic)

Hopefully this part of the clutch is covered under the extended warranty. Hopefully.

Time for More Wrenching

On the same day Athena is christened with her new name, her clutch fails. Ah well. My Sporty isn't immortal like Athena. She is steel and rubber and plastic and aluminum; things of the Earth; and things of the Earth will eventually fail.

So, along with packing, I need to be wrenching. Three bikes and not a single one runs. Vixen is in 300 pieces. Reb has a blown oil seal (that I will be ordering shortly) and now Athena's clutch fails.

Then there comes the July ride situation. There are two rides coming up in July, one to Ely, Nevada and another one to Salt Lake City, Utah. After the Utah ride, I was planning to spend a few days in Colorado. Not so sure now.

Last week discovered Athena needed a new front tire. OK, there's $150 or so. Now she needs a clutch? Another $150 or so. I would truly like to go to Salt Lake City and then Colorado. Cash is tight. We shall see.

She Has a Name

No longer will she suffer the indignation of simply being referred to by pronouns. Her name echos a symbolism, history, strength.

So... Any guesses???

Time is as Water

mq01 at Ms M's Place made an interesting statement that caused the philosophical synapses to fire.

"The more I become one with the moment, the faster the present becomes the past."

Discussed and contemplated for as long as the human species has been sentient is time. What does it mean? What is it? What is the past, present and future? What of fate? What of free will?

What is the present? There is no present. There is only the direct relationship between the immediate future and immediate past. You are not really reading this, your brain is processing what input your eyes viewed and your brain is directing your eyes to the next word for more input.

The present is a razor's edge (One of the reasons I chose that name for this blog). A perfectly sharpened razor has two well defined sides; leading and trailing or right and left, depending on your preference. A perfect razor's edge comes to a point at an atomic level, with a cloud of electrons at the utmost edge. That cloud is by nature, indeterminate. Sure, using math, one can determine exactly where the electrons are, but time must be removed and for the most part, the only thing in the system that can be measured is the position.

So? Even the edge of a perfect razor cannot be defined, just as the present.

As motorcycle riders, the now, the present must expand yet stay indeterminate. We look two seconds ahead, five, twelve and meld that into our immediate past. Traffic, road, bike and weather conditions, past and present merge into one when speeding down a long road or tearing up the twisties.

Our minds' inner eye opens to this; allows us the enviable joy of seeing more, experiencing more than the typical human being. The more one becomes in the moment, the more moment is being experienced.

Imagine a small stream babbling along the edge of a forest. Its water is not moving very quickly, simply making a leisurely trip down stream. Now, imagine a flood. The stream is now a torrent of water. It is the same stream, but it has widened and quickened. You are experiencing something wider and grander than the babbling brook. And, it is moving at a greater pace.

It may be a double edged sword for riders. The more we experience and the wider our range of now becomes, the quicker it seems to go by.

OK, enough rambling. I have work to do and a project bike to work on, not necessarily in that order.