Not So Clean Break

There will be a short break in the challenge.  After gearing up for my first motorcycle ride in almost four years, the pins in my finger were dislodged while wearing the protective gloves and spending a couple of hours on the motorcycle yesterday.  The pain that had been occurring on both sides of my knuckle shifted all to one side.  The knuckle looks not only massively swollen but also deformed.  Even the mini Ace bandage wrapped around it to control the swelling sends me into stomping fits accompanied by more expletives than most sailors know.

Oxycontin is my constant friend until the doctor's office opens tomorrow morning.  The new hand doctor (finally got to see him over three months after my original hand doctor's untimely death) said two weeks ago that his office would call me to schedule the in-office operation to remove the pins.  Call me?  My a$$!  It reminds me of "Don't call us, we'll call you."

This has been one long weekend.

Oh Say Can I See (Redux)

Some nice folks stopped by to read the first of the sensory blogs on sight but were disappointed that there were no links to some of the sites.  Links have been added to some.  Check them out here.

Oh Say Can I See

This isn’t a “bucket list”. It’s just a list. Maybe this will be the first in a series of lists.

Things I want to see before I die:

1. The Nazca Lines
2. The Roman Catacombs
3. The aurora borealis
4. Penguins in their natural habitat
5. Polar bears in their natural habitat
6. Victoria Falls
7. The Road of Bones from the back of a motorcycle
8. A grandbaby’s eyes
9. The world from the highest point in Africa
10. The winter solstice sunrise from inside Newgrange

What do you want to see before you die?

Stoopid State Law

There are some pretty silly or downright stupid laws on the books. 

One college town has an ordinance against public drunkenness.  However, you can't be arrested for public drunkenness if you're wearing a morning suit.  My law school exploited that loophole by all of us renting tails for Homecoming while the third years provided trashcans full of fuzzy navels and two other drinks that for the life of me I can't remember what they were. 

My state has a stupid loophole on the books.  When I wanted to ride a motorcycle alongside Mr. Gaelic rather than sitting behind him, I took a class at the local community college.  It was a full day of classroom instruction followed by a written test.  Only if we passed the written test were we allowed out in the roped-off parking lot for the practical instruction.  For someone who had never driven a motorcycle it was fantastic, starting from the basics of how to turn it on.  The DMV driving test was the practical test given by the instructors.  We still had to go to the DMV for the written test.

The loophole in the law that I find stupid is that scooter riders don't have to take any special classes or pass any special tests before they can hop on a scooter.  Granted scooters don't have the horsepower of motorcycles.  But they still need to understand certain things about a motorized two-wheeled vehicle.

I think the law is stupid because, on a recent damp drizzly morning, we were following a scooter rider downhill on a major street.  It was early enough that the only traffic on the street was the scooter in front of us and our big SUV.  I saw the light changing to yellow and knew the scooter was going too fast to stop.  Sure enough, when he hit the brakes he braked with only the back brakes and started fishtailing.  He recovered but knew he couldn't stop and continued on through the intersection.  Thank goodness that the car which was stopped at the cross street didn't immediately start moving when the light turned green for them.  The scooter would have been toast.

Even a motorcyclist with a 250cc bike must pass the written and practical test.  Yet scooter riders are exempt, even though scooters are getting bigger and bigger, some maxi-scooter even up to 800cc's. 

Some things I just don't understand.

Observations from the Road, Part Deux

When I told an old friend that I must learn to tolerate I-95, he quipped that the I-95 corridor is intolerable.  He's right.  But here are my recent observations to help along the way to tolerance.

• If you notice the beautiful stars as you drive along, look again.  They're airplanes.  The light pollution makes seeing stars impossible.
• If you fondly remember the Burger King onion rings from when you were a kid, don't order them at the service areas.  There's more breading on the onion rings than actual onion in the rings.
• Speaking of fast food, McDonald's appears to be the crème de la crème of fast food.  At least it's consistent in its awfulness.
• If you're travelling non-stop between Washington, DC, and Boston, Mass, you're going to hit rush hour at some point during your drive.  Books-on-tape or shuffle mode on the iPod helps with the slow traffic.
• If you have a fender bender because some doofus didn't stop in time to avoid smashing into your rear bumper, for God's sake, do NOT get out of your car.  (I observed this happen in the middle lane.  At night!)
• Connecticut State Troopers drive black Ford Taurus unmarked cars.  And they can haul ass.
• Speaking of hauling ass, there are two type of motorcyclists on I-95.  Cruisers who wear half-helmets and jean jackets but generally follow the speed limits; and squids who wear tinted-visor full face helmets and leather jackets but delight in going in the triple digits or popping wheelies at 80 miles per hour.
• To cut down on the stress associated with I-95, opt for the Merritt and Cross Parkways in Connecticut if at all possible.
• If you happen to find yourself in New York City and need to head northeast towards Boston and points in between, do NOT take the Cross Bronx Expressway.  Head west on 57th to the Hudson Parkway and follow it north.  You won't believe you're still in New York City.  In fact at points you'll swear you're in upstate New York.
• There is no good food to be found at any of the service areas anywhere along the I-95 corridor.  This may sound radical.  But . . . Print out a coupon for discount parking (Icon parking has good specials) in New York City, drive into the city, and eat a decent meal while you wait for the traffic to let up.  I know this is contrary to my last blog about the I-95 corridor when I said to avoid New York City at all costs.  (So I must be a radical because driving in New York City traffic doesn't bother me.)
• Not all Starbucks are created equal.  The one on East Putnam Avenue in Riverside, CT, may not be the easiest on-off or even have a drive-thru, but it's a pleasant break if you can figure out how to get into the parking lot of the strip center.  Hint: from the I-95 off-ramp, go straight through the traffic light and bear right into the parking lot.  The Starbucks is towards the far end of the strip center.
• Most non-service center Starbucks have the best restrooms because most of them have seat protectors in the restrooms.
• Not all GPS's are created equal.  Make sure your Bitching Betty has the most up-to-date maps loaded or else you might be in the left lanes when you should be in the right lanes. 
• If there's no blinking yellow light for your EZ-Pass lane and you planned to use your EZ-Pass because you don't have any cash, you're SOL.  Because it wasn't an EZ-Pass lane after all, but a Cash-Only lane.
• Toll booth attendants have no sense of humor.  If you ever find one who does, be nice to him or her.
• When you're at the last service center in New Jersey to fill up with the cheap gas, go for the lane with no cars.  People either don't realize the hoses are long enough to reach to the other side of their cars or they don't want the hoses draped over their vehicles even if it means not waiting in line for gas.
• Believe it or not, there are lots of deer within grazing range of the guard rails.  There was one nibbling on the grass just on the other side of the guard rail in Massachusetts while 18-wheelers and sports cars went roaring past her.  Be careful.  Especially in southern New Jersey at night.  There were herds of them.  Let's talk about re-introducing the grey wolf to southern New Jersey to help control the deer population.  But that's a blog for another day.

The Road is a Jealous Mistress

This weekend is a motorcycle rally in North Carolina. There’s this one stretch on U.S. 129 that cuts its way through the southern Appalachian Mountains of western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee. 318 curves in 11 miles! Any stretch of road that has its own map with the sites of fatal crashes (31 since 1995) is not for the faint of heart.

Two months ago, Mr. Gaelic received my blessing and encouragement to go. Now into my second full month of a paying job search, that blessing seems like a bane to me. The job outlook is becoming quite discouraging.

Discouragement comes in the form of multiple rejection letters. On a daily basis. Up to four rejection letters in a single day. Working the till at Barnes & Noble is beginning to look appealing.

To keep the discouragement at bay, Mr. Gaelic offers hugs to take the edge off those rejections. With his absence, no hugs for the good part of a week. He needs his personal time for recreation from his demanding job. My neediness shouldn’t impede his needs.

I realize that I’m being childish in wanting him to scrub the ride and rally. It’s just damn hard getting psyched to send him away. Like finding a job to pay for college, it’s something that I’ll do because we’re family.