ChronoTech

you really just aren’t trying hard enough.

The point is, you can’t expect to go through life making everyone you meet happy all of the time. For one thing, even if you try it, you’re going to fail. It’s a basic tenat of the human condition. That applies in general, actually.

So, today, I managed to piss of my boss. There was this computer I was supposed to have ready by this morning, which I couldn’t get working. If I had taken the simple step of emailing him to tell him this, I probably would have come out of it looking a lot better than I did. Now granted, this wasn’t entirely my fault. The stupid thing kept blue-screening. It’s probably the shitty add-in network card. Nonetheless, that doesn’t change the fact that my failure to communicate got me in trouble.

That’s just the way life works. On the other hand, I made myself happy by going to bed at a reasonable time, thus ensuring that I didn’t spend all day as a miserable tired wreck, pissing everyone he meets off by spouting his irritating opinions on everything. That’s just a bad way to go about things.

The second person I pissed off was a girl at Satellite who happend to order almost the exact same drink that I did. I picked up her drink by accident. She gave me a dirty look, I apoligized upon realizing my mistake, and she still left in a huff. At that point, I had no chance of making her happy before she left. She just wasn’t in a mood to be receptive to any apologies. Simple as that. As a situation, it’s even less avoidable than the above mentioned scenario.

The one person I can make happy every single day is myself. Even if I don’t pull it off everyday, the potential is at least there. Most days, I do alright. Sitting in a coffee shop while writing blog posts that I can pretend people will actually read helps quite a bit with that. Especially since I got my coffee for free.

Yeah, I know. It’s been about four months since I last posted anything in here. Last time I wrote, I was bitching about my tiny motorcycle. Well, the tiny motorcycle finally let me down, and broke down in the Wal-mart parking lot at Rio Bravo and Coors Blvd here in ‘Burque. Not the greatest neighborhood. After hanging out at Wally World for about six hours, my sister came and picked me up. About an hour later, my buddy Joby gave me a ride back to the bastion of all that is unholy in retail with a truck. We loaded the bike up, strapped it down real good, and off we went. Joby’s excellent use of slipknots kept the bike from shifting around altogether. After doing this much of a solid for me, Joby goes on the list of people I’m willing to help dispose of a body.

The funny thing is, after spending 700 bucks getting the CT-2 running, I really have no particular desire to get it running again, except to get into selling condition. There is a good reason for this. About the middle of January, I bought another bike. This one is far, far better than the last one. It’s a 1979 Yamaha XS650 Special. It’s a much bigger bike, and on this one, I can actually go on the freeway. I even have the potential to get speeding tickets now, as the new bike can pretty easily do 95, and if I drop it into 4th gear and open the throttle all the way, I can probably get it up to around 110. This is really freakin’ scary – which is probably why I haven’t broken 100 yet. With my self-proclimation as a total wuss out of the way, I can move on to all the things that make this bike so freakin’ awesome.

The first bit is the fact that the engine is fuckin’ bulletproof. Literally. One could shoot bullets at this thing, and still expect it to start. That’s the second thing. This bike has two starting systems – a kickstart, and an electric start. I use the kickstart when it’s cold, because it always, always starts up by the third kick. When it’s warm, the electric start works just fine. I expect by summer time, I’ll be able to use the electric start all the time. The last bit, is the fact that this bike gets great gas milage. It gets roughly 55 mpg with normal use, and I expect with a little bit gentler of a hand, I could probably get up to 65+.

That leads to the one drawback of the bike. It only has a 2.9 gallon tank, so it has a range of about 165 miles between fillups. I’m planning to get an aftermarket tank that holds 3.9 gallons, which would get my range up to a respectable 220 miles. Which still isn’t enough to get me from  Fallon NV to Ely NV at night, when their are no gas stations between these towns.

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But, hey, what can you do? There aren’t very man places in the United States where one can actually go more than a hundred miles without a gas station – and I’ll be laughing all the way to the bank, because it costs me about 9 dollars to fill up my tank. You try going 165 miles for $9 dollars in your bigass SUV. Yeah, I didn’t think so.

Of course, all this wouldn’t be complete (at least for me) if I hadn’t already managed to drop the stupid thing. The worst (best?) part is that I dropped going around a corner coming off a stop sign, at about 5 miles an hour. That’s what a little bit of water, some sand, and a motorcycle tire can do to you. And, of course, I managed to drop the whole damn 600 lbs. of the bike on my knee, and bruised the fuck out of it. But that won’t stop me from riding it – it’s too damn much fun.

Spring Break is coming up, and I’m planning to ride the beast out to California, to take it up the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway, for the undereducated) and then to Castro Valley CA, to visit my Enforcer buddy Mojo. On the way over, I’m stopping at the House of Blues in Las Vegas to see Flogging Molly. All in all, it should be a damn fine trip.

P.S. Road rash fucking hurts. So do bruised tailbones.