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Serendipity's Capper

webmostwebmost Dull-AwarePosts: 6,103 ✭✭✭✭✭
I could tell serendipity was kicking in soon as my cell phone rang.

"Are you still home?"
"Just about to throw a leg over" I replied.
"Hang on. I'm bringing you money."

It was a friend of mine who thought that he owed me money. I'd brought his wife's motorcycle back to life and fixed up an online ad with vids and pics to help him sell it. He just lost his job. A little TLC and a new battery, is all. I regarded it as a favor. But some people, you know, you can't do them a favor; they insist on reducing everything to bucks.

So, heading out late, extra cash burning a hole in my pocket, I figured I might as well pick up a bottle of hooch before leaving Delaware, cause we have no sales tax here. Found a dime on the pavement where I parked. Found change always signals good luck to me. Liquor store was closed. As I walked back to Annie, here comes the affable store owner. Opens for me, I score a bottle of Michter's rye whiskey. Great guy; Indian; I wish him luck in this his new country.

Carving twisties through Amish country on a chilly morning. The tobacco fields are sprouting grass this time of year. Brawny percherons plowing; retired trotters pulling buggies. I hit slab the other side of Lancaster. Annie is our big beemer bagger R1200CLC. We named her Annie because we bought her for our anniversary. Chrome plated valve covers on a boxer engine. Annie is a slab gobbler. Chews up asphalt and spits out miles. Set her digital cruise to 80, she'll hum along at 3k RPM.

I stop at TransAm, where we bought her 11 years ago, to pick up rubber maintenance bits. Got to joking around with the parts boys and Joe the owner. Told them I was headed to northern New York for an annual chromehead tech day at Lake Conesus; which, I told them, is only a slender excuse for a bunch of guys to drink and swap lies around a bonfire. A good gauge of the nature of these festivities is that the host's wife goes to Virginia to visit her aunt that weekend to absent herself, while his father drives up from Florida to attend. Subject of rye came up. A parts guy tells me I should try the excellent rye made at a distillery established in 1743 only two miles up the road from their shop, called Michter's. Small world.

Back to the slab, set the cruise on eighty (experience has taight me Annie is invisible to pigs' radar) and away I fly. Six hours later I pull in at the old farm beside the lake. Leaden damp sky. Scottish weather. Figure I'll camp in the old wooden barn. Our host's shop is ginormous.
image
Loads of new fellows to meet this year. Particularly one voluble chap from Luxembourg, erstwhile yachtsman and distance sailor like myself, who accepts a cigar. I had not smoked for over a week, because I had a wisdom fang hacked out and a molar yanked, and I was waiting for the holes to skin over. So I had brought only half a dozen of the mildest: a pair of Smithdale Shades, a pair of Smithdale Oscuros, and a pair of these Perla del Mar, which are just like the Brickhouse, but with Connecticut wrappers. He selected the Oscuro; I grab a Shade. We had one wonderful smoke, chock full of philosophy, life stories, plenty of whiskey, ample laughter. Like minds. Instant bosom buddies. And the Michter's, it turns out, is absolutely sublime stuff.

By the time I turn in, it's 34 degrees and raining. Glad I picked the barn. Laid my head down dreaming of tittees, woke up needing to schidt; just the way God intended one should. The secret to not getting hung over is drink sublime stuff.

First project after breakfast at the lakeside greasy spoon: Friend of mine year before last lost his job in human services when the agency lost its grant, had to take a job at a quarter the pay in a sawmill, had his R1200 Montauk rear shock spring a leak this Winter, didn't have $945 (are these parts expensive or what?) to buy a new one. I had a CLC shock absorber kicking round the garage attic. I have scoured my mind but cannot certainly recall the provenance of this thing. So I had toted my attic CLC shock up to tech day, gambling that it might just fit his Montauk. Took us a scant twenty minutes to figure it looked close enough to give it a go. Gave it a go. Test ride. Saved him near a grand, just like that. Pure good luck.

More drinking. Sublime stuff. Got lucky installing a master link on a roller chain for someone else after others had bombed out trying. Installed two of my rubber bits. By pure good luck, the fellow I'd provided a shock discovered my front tire valve stem looked shut. Could have blown on the freeway. Instead, we pulled a new one through. More drink. Helped the Luxembourger swap out his in-tank fuel filter. By now I was so full of booze and food and so worn out by chill rain that I just laid down and napped, like an well adjusted old fart ought to.

Up. Drink eat, wrench. A local Malbec, a home made hard cider, a Vermonter brought maple whiskey, someone else Tullamore Dew, Jack Daniels, box wine, scotch, our affable host keeps plenty Yuengling dark and light on tap; meatballs, chili, a Canadian specialty called rye steak which is super thick slabs of a particular Ontario rye bread dipped in melted butter and grilled on the barbecue, burgers, hot snausages, dogs, drink, yak, drink, yak, drink ... Three teenage boys dropped by in a Camaro. Installed a new intake manifold to coax more horsepower . Before dark, the thing fired at first key crank. Sounded throaty and exciting. The future of American steel is in good hands. Day ends eventually with another smoke by the bonfire. I sparked a Perla; the Luxembourger selected a Shade. He is suddenly a big fan of these Pennsyltucky cigars. Gotta send him some. Still had the one Perla I could not give away. Regretted having to bring it back.

Filthy jokes. Toasted butts. Believe it or not, the night does finally end. Barn, head full of tetas, wake up at four, say screw it I don't need to schidt that bad, back to sleep. Which oversleep neatly explains why I was late starting home. By the time I hit the crapper and shower, about six thirty, everyone else was up. Which is why, as I emerged, a feller points his finger: "Webby, Rocketman needs you." I reply, "It's always nice to be needed, of course; but tell Rocketman I don't swing that way." Har de har. Turns out Rocketman had an ABS fault light going off on his Montauk chromehead cruiser. I happen to be blessed by lucky wild guesses when it comes to troubles with these bikes. Had I ridden off at the crack as planned I would not have been there to get lucky. As it was, inside half an hour we had his troubles sorted. Now he loves me. Thinks I must be expert. No; I just make guesses.

I roll out. By now, it had started raining again. Rain at 34 degrees at eighty miles an hour will wear your sorry old butt right out. Believe me. Finally rode out from under leaden skies 150 miles later going over the passes approaching Williamsport. By time I hit Lancaster I felt in a daze. So I stopped by the cigar lounge slash espresso bar along route 30 to catch some caffeine. Feller rushed out while I was stripping off my rain pants. Had to tell me about his beloved beemer airhead Paris Dakar. He was the clerk on duty in the cigar lounge. So we lounged there a while, along with another fellow dangling round there, who had also been out of work a year. I smoked a superb Don Benigno petite robusto. Golly. If you ever see one, snag it. My word. If I had a buck eighty to burn I'd buy a box today. Wow. Drank a great espresso. Talked bikes and hot rods and the jaw dropping idiocy of obamanomics. In came a young couple looking for a box of "It's a Boy!" to give away. She was due in two weeks. Fine young couple, twenty nine, had their lives in order, had their house, had their jobs, now planned their first, a son. Mom was taking three months off; then grandma was quitting to tend the tot, just as nature intends. Congratulated them. Told them they were about to discover the meaning of life. The Perla del Mar found a home with him. Fine young folks like these make me feel relieved in my old age. Only wish we would have left them an easier path than what we have.

Renewed energy set me back on the road. Carved twisties through Amish country, dodging buggies. No percherons on Sunday. There's a hand made chocolate candy factory in an old house on the home stretch. I stop there to pick up a ten buck sampler for Bearswatter, cause it's always important to convince your gal you're still courting her, even after thirty years. So sunny and fine down here in Dull-Aware. A smiling sky, 68 degrees. The last leg takes me through the University. Gals have their short skirts on. Guys are throwing frisbees. I pull up to our very modest digs. The cherry tree which had been bare when I left is suddenly all aflame. The wild bunny rabbit which appeared this spring sets plump and tame beneath it. Bearswatter's lap dog emerges to greet me. Bearswatter is nearly a shut-in these days; has not even been out to check the mail since I left. So I take her lap dog to the mail box, where she smells all the spots her doggy friends have left, and leaves her own spot. From the mail box, I pull this:
image

From FireRob. The perfect capper to a serendipitous weekend.

“It has been a source of great pain to me to have met with so many among [my] opponents who had not the liberality to distinguish between political and social opposition; who transferred at once to the person, the hatred they bore to his political opinions.” —Thomas Jefferson (1808)


Comments

  • Puff_DougiePuff_Dougie Mr. Rogers NeighborhoodPosts: 4,601 ✭✭✭✭✭
    Great story, Davis. Felt like I'd been on the road with you. Nice welcome home package too. FireRob is a cool dude.
    "When I have found intense pain relieved, a weary brain soothed, and calm, refreshing sleep obtained by a cigar, I have felt grateful to God, and have blessed His name." - Charles Haddon Spurgeon
  • RainRain Posts: 8,960 ✭✭✭
    Davis, thanks for sharing. Just had a great smoke as the sun went down and I'm glad I'm not the only one who had a good weekend.
  • FireRobFireRob Posts: 1,904 ✭✭✭
    Enjoyed this story and thanks for sharing your story in my Darwin Contest. So glad these got to you and not

    Chris Reeves
    101 Main St
    Fortress of Solitude 12345

    Hope you enjoy these or find someone who will. Oh and hope you learned your lesson with giving out fake address’s
  • webmostwebmost Dull-AwarePosts: 6,103 ✭✭✭✭✭
    FireRob:
    Enjoyed this story and thanks for sharing your story in my Darwin Contest. So glad these got to you and not

    Chris Reeves
    101 Main St
    Fortress of Solitude 12345

    Hope you enjoy these or find someone who will. Oh and hope you learned your lesson with giving out fake address’s
    Super glad you liked it, man
    “It has been a source of great pain to me to have met with so many among [my] opponents who had not the liberality to distinguish between political and social opposition; who transferred at once to the person, the hatred they bore to his political opinions.” —Thomas Jefferson (1808)


  • brianetz1brianetz1 St. Louis, MOPosts: 4,135 ✭✭✭
    FireRob:
    Enjoyed this story and thanks for sharing your story in my Darwin Contest. So glad these got to you and not

    Chris Reeves
    101 Main St
    Fortress of Solitude 12345

    Hope you enjoy these or find someone who will. Oh and hope you learned your lesson with giving out fake address’s
    why did you post my address like that out in the open? you are going to blow my secret identity!
  • FireRobFireRob Posts: 1,904 ✭✭✭
    brianetz1:
    FireRob:
    Enjoyed this story and thanks for sharing your story in my Darwin Contest. So glad these got to you and not

    Chris Reeves
    101 Main St
    Fortress of Solitude 12345

    Hope you enjoy these or find someone who will. Oh and hope you learned your lesson with giving out fake address’s
    why did you post my address like that out in the open? you are going to blow my secret identity!
    Sorry Man, Freedom Of Information Act, I used the page here on the Ccom forum contest list of winners page and just saw that address listed the most times and thought I would use it. Should have known it was yours
  • webmostwebmost Dull-AwarePosts: 6,103 ✭✭✭✭✭
    Anyone here have a Moto X? You a photographer? Know how to work this thing? I'm pretty sure this Moto X pocket puter of mine can take panoramic pics. I recall seeing the setting somewhere. Now I can't find it. I really need it. Can you help?

    image
    Look at this schidt. Look at it. The hell is wrong with a guy who blows his mortgage bombing a worthless ingrate like me. Now scroll way right and look at the rest.

    Sheesh. You don't know this guy. He's the brother motorcyclist who I donated a rear shock to, in the story I told about my motorcycle wrenching weekend at Lake Conesus in New York, earlier in this thread. So he spots me playing Johnny Sotweed's favorite game up there, goes to a cigar store in Harrisburg, and promptly beats the living horse pebbles outta me like this. Plus consider, he's not a cigar smoker. Never heard about c.com. He's out there buying singles at singles pricing on some clerk's advice. How'd he do?

    Cripes.

    Perdomo Champagne
    JDN Antano
    Olor Fuerte
    Mi Barrio
    Prensado
    7-20-4
    Torano Sig Collection
    Tat red band
    JDN Antano again
    Inch
    RP Rosado
    Tabak Especial
    La Aurora CT
    Aging Room M356
    Muwat baitfish
    601 Oscuro
    Lot 23
    601 La Bomba
    Acid Kuba Kuba
    Kristof Maduro
    Alec B Sungrown
    Master Blend 3

    Any klinkers in there? Not bad for a feller doesn't know a white owl from a pale pigeon.

    “It has been a source of great pain to me to have met with so many among [my] opponents who had not the liberality to distinguish between political and social opposition; who transferred at once to the person, the hatred they bore to his political opinions.” —Thomas Jefferson (1808)


  • FireRobFireRob Posts: 1,904 ✭✭✭
    webmost:
    I just realized that was a clickable link! Very funny!
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