Friday, May 21, 2010

Putting the Parts Together

Honestly, this post has been tumbling around for a while, just waiting for the proper words and metaphors and the right day. From time to time, a fellow blogger and friend, Ms. M and I play off each others posts. I am not sure who started it, but she wrote an entry that inspired this one. While perhaps a bit delayed, writing this post before now would have been premature.

Rebuilding a motorcycle requires patience, time, a little money and determination. There are few shortcuts. Less patience requires more money. Less time requires more money. Less determination and the bike may never be rebuilt.

More money bypasses many of these things. With more money, people can be hired to rebuild the engine or powder coat the frame or even perform the complete rebuilding process. Doing this, however, tends to distance one from the bike; it creates a chasm of sorts.

I have a lot of parts. I have a lot of projects.

Let's say for a moment A person, an old bike mechanic walks by my garage and notices all of the parts, and the nearly complete, almost rolling frame.

He offers his assistance but tells me it will cost a beer now and then. And, the old parts I have lying around need to be thrown away, "The only way these parts are gonna fit together is if ya pitch the ones ya don't need. If ya pitch a few good ones, don't worry. We can get others or make new ones that fit even better."

He tells me it may be tough and there is no guarantee she will run when she is all back together, but he will do what he can.

Sure, I may do fine without his assistance, but here is a fellow offering to help. He loves these old bikes and wants to see this one run again.

So, do I throw out a few good parts, buy him a few beers and accept his assistance or continue down my current path, lugging old parts where I go?

Do I accept the short term hardships, challenges and possible losses to get her running well again or continue down the safer course?

2 comments:

mq01 said...

im really torn here razor. i get several underlying meanings in this post, and some honestly make me a little nervous.

i'll address the hypothesis posed. i realize that you'll never know if tossing the parts will help or not unless you try. i also realize you'll never know if you can trust a person as being a helpful friend unless you try and simply extend trust. but i know that part of your passion is doing with your own two hands, head, and heart.

i would never tell you what to do. but i have difficulty with tossing good parts and trusting your garage to a stranger. ive been burned here...just be careful. taking chances, yes i support that. but i think you'll risk must greater joy in the process.

on the other hand there comes times when we have nothing but to trust. is your heart telling you this is one of those times?

RazorsEdge2112 said...

MQ,

I do apologize for the delay responding to your comment. It is certainly food for thought.

What I tried to do in my post was abstract some of my life and superimpose that abstraction into something more readily evaluated and described; namely motorcycle repair.

I have these parts, whether they are a set of gears or ratty looking wires or hobbies and interests. Some of these just don't fit. That driver and driven spline/gear set on my project bike looked great until close inspection revealed their true state. If I used them in the rebuild, the result could be a stranded bike and rider within just a few miles. Worse yet, it could cause a complete powertrain lock up, not something fun at 80MPH.

There are parts in my life that simply must be left behind; things like writing my own operating system, building my own airplane, or even being fully licensed.

I suppose in life there is a big recycle bin where these things are tossed. Perhaps later some of these parts can be restored. Perhaps they will be purged to allow for more space. And maybe this is for the better.

Ah, the stranger; the bike mechanic. Another abstraction. :-) Honestly I was writing about myself in the third-person; or rather an earlier, more confident and comfortable version of myself. After re-reading my post, the abstraction doesn't quite fit.

What is my heart telling me? It is saying, "Jump... Build your parachute on the way down."