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OT: going to write a book. Things that don't happen to normal people.

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  • OT: going to write a book. Things that don't happen to normal people.

    The scope and concept of this book will be to first interest people, the direct them away from the family violence that has consumed our nation.
    As I was, I am no longer. I am at peace.




    Felix:
    His old 49 harley.. it had a cam type rear brake.. he broke that cam.. had no brakes.. but continued to ride it.. Like a boat.. coasting in for a stop.. and when he'd slow down enough? he'd stick them big 14 size boots down and stop the motorcycle like a bicycle.. I remember having leather dust and dirt all in my eyes and all over me.. I saw him lift the front wheel once pushing down with his feet.


    That old crappy Harley? well he had crappy wiring on it.. kept blowing out generators.. had the cover off the regulator and would PUSH In the relay to turn it on.. He didn't have a switch, he twisted the wires together to start it. When we'd go over railroad tracks the wires would come untwisted and it'd die.. we'd see a spark, then he'd coast over to kick for ten minutes.
    OKAY.. The ride around Chattanooga with Feets, we had been out drinking, closed one bar, went to another, closed it, was riding back to the clubhouse. Feets had a old panhead with a original springer front end. It had no shock on the front, wore out rockers on the bottom and would bounce and go in different directions.. It was quite funny to see him ride, like riding a pogo stick on wheels.
    Coming around Chattanooga Tn on the interstate, the freeway strips got the old panhead to bouncing, we were running about 100mph or so, he started bouncing toward me and pushing me against the guard rail.. I nailed it and got ahead of him and swapped sides.. Looking over, he was riding along, a few feet from the guard rail.. Kicking the guard rail at near 100mph.. kick, gain a foot off the rail.. bounce bounce bounce.. and kick.. bounce bounce bounce.. kick.. I was thinking in my drunken mind.. he is going to miss that rail and stick his foot behind a post and rip his leg off.. but no.. GOD looks out for drunks and fools..



    Quite the character.. last time I saw him, he had a black child by the hand, a bible in the other hand.. this was after living through four or five shoot outs with police and the prison terms relating to them. He had swastikas tattooed all over him.. not the nice ones you see today, but real violent ones.. A real race hater. He had on long sleeves that last time I saw him.



    Excuse me, I farted.

  • #2
    Dave, that would be an interesting book, there were a lot of real characters running around back then. Your story reminds me of one of the guys I used to run with. He had a big German eagle with a swastika tattooed across his chest and spent four years in prison. He's a Mormon now, still calls to say hi about once a year.

    Comment


    • #3
      Go for it,prolly be a bestseller.Do I get an autographed copy?
      I just need one more tool,just one!

      Comment


      • #4
        Hey, keep writing, I'll buy the book. Should be very interesting.
        It's only ink and paper

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        • #5
          You're a remarkable writer. It shows in your posts here. Go For It!

          Comment


          • #6
            THE old bike I had in the 70s.

            Another part, working on here and there.. all out of sequence of course.. Heck, my brain cells rarely every hook up.. Pat, talking about that springer in my shop triggered The Felix memory.. a chrome pogo stick. It ain't the age, it's the mileage.


            My old harley was pretty junky to look back on it now, a old 49 rigid frame, panhead. Painted three colors. put together with junk and bailing wire, but it had a brand new engine, and I had went through the transmission.. so it ran well. Just was ugly, and would not stop worth spit.. but I just wanted to go.. ride.. not stop.. the head light was tie wired in cause the screw had vibrated out.. the hi-lo beam switch had went bad, so I just tied one beam in, and when it burned out I tied the other beam in till it burned out and left me in the dark.. IT was a death machine now to look back.



            THE engine, it had a Joe Hunt Magneto.. a magneto like they put on tractors in the 50's ya know? Instead of a key switch, I had a cut off hack saw blade on the terminal.. Just kick it, it started. Like a lawnmower, push it in and it shorted out and stopped the engine.. no kill switch..


            Once that coil went out up in Indiana? I forget.. corn.. nothing but corn.. It was sunday, I pushed and pushed and pushed.. looked over, there close to the road, no houses anywhere.. was a old Farmall tractor.. As I was pushing, I saw the fairbanks Morse magneto sticking out the side. I swapped with him, left a $20 under the cap of MY shiny new magneto coil.. $20 was a lot of money back then. It was either that, or sleep in a cornfield?

            I was taught to ride fast enough to overcome traffic, pass when you can. Don't let someone run up your shirt collar. Went to California where they taught me to ride up the white line, just as fast as you dared. The faster you passed up the middle the less time the driver has to react and run you over.

            Well.. coming back from Atlanta, I had been running over 100, had the bike geared in a way where it lost some accelleration but ran well on top end. A light rigid framed bike. I stopped there in Ringgold, where my buddy worked, opened his car up, stuck my Pistole in the seat of his car.. he had a tear in the seat.. I shoved it way up in the tear across the middle. (I had been caught in Tenn carrying a gun, and they taught me not to come back with one).. Anyways.. shot off back onto the interstate.. running 100+.. pipes glowing red..

            Ran up on some traffic passed them up the middle.. ran up on some more.. passed them.. ran up behind a tanker truck.. suddenly, as I was overtaking him at 100, smoke started coming off the rear wheels.. I went into emergency braking, and turning the bike for all I was worth.. I almost made it.. hit that lil bar across behind the tank down low.. flew up, dented the side of the tank with my shoulder, flipped off that, landed on the dualie rear wheels.. the instant they started rolling again? they flipped me off on the road.. As I was skidding down the road on my hands and knees I was aware of cars sliding around me.. I ran on all fours like a rat for the median.. then.. once traffic stopped, ran back the sixty or more feet back to my bike. Picked it up, and rolled it to the center.. traffic started flowing real slow
            Rubber neckers.. my arm and knees were ground flat like someone took a knife and filleted a steak off them.. A old man, who I thought I knew slowed in a old chevy stepside.. I hollered, HEY.. you stop for me..

            He pulled up.. when I loaded that old Harley by myself, My elbow slid up under my shoulder muscles.. broken in the impact or cracked, but picking up that harley messed it up good.

            We ended back at the house, where there was a line of people awaiting my return.. Topless dancers, old friends.. a few ladies of the night.. well.. As I dragged the harley off the truck with one arm, I had help.. I suggested they give the old man a beer, and anything else he desired.. He thanked me, got redfaced and left.. They put pins and wired me back together, as I went under, they had gave me sodium phenothal, and I remember seeing a badge. I guess what I was mumbling was not too bad?

            Later in the hospital, I told Mike about the gun.. he had been driving, him, his wife sitting on it for days.. no idea it was there.

            This new motorcycle I got? a 1997 Roadking, it's the cat's knees.. electric start, air ride.. ohh.. and sparkly too.


            That old 49 pan? frame was broke in two places, engine broken up, motor mounts shoved back, carburetor knocked off the heads. Oil tank twisted, and front end twisted.. I never got to ride it again. From then on, it was PARTS.. I see a bit of it now and again at swap meets.
            Excuse me, I farted.

            Comment


            • #7
              Heck contact TLC gawd they put those idiot Tuttles on from OCC and the twits with all the kids . Not saying you fall into either cat.

              Hell you'd be a breather of fresh air... pitch as a cross between Junkyard Wars, Battle Bots and Biker Builder. In other words Life as We know it.


              Good read... If nothing else put you history (Stories) down so your kin in the future can read about it.
              Wow... where did the time go. I could of swore I was only out there for an hour.

              Comment


              • #8
                “Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement; then it becomes a mistress, and then it becomes a master, and then a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster, and fling him out to the public.” –Winston Churchill
                Go for it, David! Take comfort and amusement from your writing, dally with the mistress, work for the master, labor under the tyrant, then slay the monster and cast it out to us. We’ll eat it up! And you will be a hero.
                Weston Bye - Author, The Mechatronist column, Digital Machinist magazine
                ~Practitioner of the Electromechanical Arts~

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                • #9
                  I consider mysef to be very normal but my wife begs to differ.
                  She said she knew this nearly fifty years ago when we first were married.
                  She asked me if I could remember coming home from the pub the previous evening I said I can remember it clearly I said it was snowing lightly.
                  She said can you remember the carol singers in the street. I told I was sound asleep with the best nights sleep I've had in along time.
                  She asked if I could remember going ito the front street completely naked and P*ssing in the snow. I told her not to be stupid but she took me by the hand and led me to the place where she said this event took place and there in the snow was my name written in gold. She said do you consider this normal, half the street and the carol singers saw you.
                  I said it was very abnormal.
                  I told her every man I know writes their name in the snow but that was not my handwriting.
                  MBB
                  Last edited by malbenbut; 11-05-2009, 02:40 PM.

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                  • #10
                    That you David????? like it man you got it marked out pretty clear.chill out brother.Alistair
                    Please excuse my typing as I have a form of parkinsons disease

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                    • #11
                      Originally posted by malbenbut
                      I consider mysef to be very normal but my wife begs to differ.
                      She said she knew this nearly fifty years ago when we first were married.
                      She asked me if I could remember coming home from the pub the previous evening I said I can remember it clearly I said it was snowing lightly.
                      She said can you remember the carol singers in the street. I told I was sound asleep with the best nights sleep I've had in along time.
                      She asked if I could remember going ito the front street completely naked and P*ssing in the snow. I told her not to be stupid but she took me by the hand and led me to the place where she said this event took place and there in the snow was my name written in gold. She said do you consider this normal, half the street and the carol singers saw you.
                      I said it was very abnormal.
                      I told her every man I know writes their name in the snow but that was not my handwriting.
                      MBB

                      Whenever I used to write my name in the snow in the manner you described, I would intentionally alter my normal cursive handwriting. This was so that I could later maintain at least some appearance of plausible deniability with my wife.



                      .

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                      • #12
                        HI Alistair.. Changed the name so all the google searches would not bring up my life history.. I been hacked and almost am ready to go underground I think. Turn all this crap off. NO PROBLEMS WITH ANYONE HERE.. OK?

                        I remember your dark flowing hair like it was yesterday. Had to call Atlanta to see if I could go out with you...
                        S******.
                        Almost dropped a tear.. From 1978... I was shaped like a wedge.. 56" chest, 32" waist..

                        I begged her to write down her memories from then, they are much more pleasant than mine. I've shaved my head since the 80s.. still on that pair of $14 clippers.. thou my wife promises me a haircut tonight from a pro..

                        Anyways, I have to aske her permission to post the part where she rode to the restaurant with me and the fender collapsed on the tire and burned her bum.. She had to lay around naked for a week. Not a bad thing, she was gorgeous.
                        Excuse me, I farted.

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          quote by gnm
                          [Whenever I used to write my name in the snow in the manner you described, I would intentionally alter my normal cursive handwriting. This was so that I could later maintain at least some appearance of plausible deniability with my wife.]

                          Whilst the writing in the snow was unlike mine it was very much like my wifes writing. Do you think I was setup?
                          MBB
                          Last edited by malbenbut; 11-05-2009, 04:59 PM.

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                          • #14
                            Keep your chin up, Dawai.

                            Everytime I think how humdrum and boring my life is, I stumble onto one of your misadventures... Thank God for a relatively boring life!

                            Anyway, here's hoping for a less stressful future!

                            Ever thought of riding nawth? Be an interesting trip for a southern boy. I'd advise waiting for about 8 months, if you can stand it that long, May is the start of real good biking weather up here and even then can be a bit unpredictable. Suffice it to say that there's a reason some cruisers up here are sold with heated handle bars There's a couple rides up here that will compete with any scenery on the continent... Icefields parkway comes to mind. Bring yer longjohns.

                            There's a few up here that'd probly spot you a brew or two if you get up this way... we've got a local brew that I think will hold its' own against Newcastle Brown...
                            Design to 0.0001", measure to 1/32", cut with an axe, grind to fit

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                            • #15
                              I'd cough up some refreshments and a berth for man (legend) and bike.......
                              Opportunity knocks once, temptation leans on the doorbell.....

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