Tag: motorcycles

A Few Small Thoughts

 

I’ve been busy. A customer is building a specialized milling machine, and I’m writing the software to create the tool paths — the motions the machine will have to make — required to manufacture sets of a few hundred slightly different precision parts that have to fit together fairly precisely. I’ve never done something quite like this, and it’s taken several iterations to get the math right and the paths precise down to the “tenths” (engineer talk for 0.0001″) required by the machine, and to do so without devouring the spinning cutting bits.

I’m very happy with the results so far. I’ll be at it the rest of this week and then, I hope, back to life as usual.

Dog Bites Man – Fraudi: Parties for me but not for thee

 

Once again, “Doctor” Fraudci spouted leftist partisan nonsense, in the false name of public health. He peddled his propaganda on the Poppycock Network, appearing on Meet the Press to condemn those bitter clinging deplorable extremist hobbits gathering in Sturges, South Dakota, while having nary a care for the equivalent “superspreader” events this past week on Martha’s Vineyard and in Chicago.

Lollapalooza is a long-running music festival, held in Chicago, Berlin,  São Paulo, Buenos Aires, Santiago, Stockholm, and Paris. Chicago hosted Lollapalooza, July 29 – August 1, 2021, in Grant Park. It was a perfectly normal huge weekend party, with mostly younger people packed in shoulder-to-shoulder. There were 8 stages and over 170 bands.

Getting Around in Thailand on Two Wheels

 

I’m sitting behind my dad on the motorcycle at night, squeezing my eyes shut as we zoom through the dark and hoping, hoping, hoping. We’re approaching our little side road, our soi, and I’m willing the engine to accelerate, to not slow down and not swing right, in the direction of home and what was sure to be immediate bedtime. Yes! We keep going. When I’m chosen to go along on these evening jaunts, I never know where we’ll alight, which of my dad’s friends we’re going to visit, what movies will be playing on TV. Or even when we’ll arrive back home to settle in for the night. I don’t think my dad really knows, either.

We show up at a motorcyle shop, metal folding doors across its front pushed back enough for our Vietnamese friend to stand in the opening, chatting with my dad. Usually, I stand in the background tuning out the long conversation, looking around, studying the seat of the motorcycle. Tonight, we walk through the shop to living quarters upstairs, where family members are ranged on the floor around a color TV watching an American movie. And what a strange one it is. A repulsive little brown creature, with uncannily communicative big eyes, makes friends with a little boy. At the end, a space ship lands in the woods to pick up the creature. The dark, lonely wooded landscape and the swelling music add to the eeriness. Then the creature and the little boy hug in an emotional parting. A loud Eww! escapes me. My dad laughs.

Vroom! Vroom!

 

I used to ride motorcycles way back when (an expression which translates to “Damn, I’m old.”). I started riding when I was 14, always on borrowed machines. I bought my first motorcycle for $200, a used Honda CB-160. I rode that thing for a couple of years, then sold it—for $200.

In college, I sold my car and bought two motorcycles—a Honda CB-450, and a Honda XL-125. I rode those for a couple of years until I started dating a gal who refused to ride (makes dating tough, but she had a car). Unfortunately, both bikes got stolen. I ended up buying a car, then broke up with the girlfriend.

Motorcycle Accidents

 

Last summer I was browsing through our towns’ police department Facebook pages because sometimes I like to see a little of what is going on in that circle.  It’s very limited, but sometimes they have useful traffic or fire updates, and it’s interesting to see what crimes might be mentioned. One incident that stood out to me was the death of a motorcyclist on one of the main roads. The driver of a pickup had changed lanes into him and knocked him into a box truck. The details were sparse, as you would expect from a simple Facebook post, but the motorcyclist died, and it was hinted as likely the fault of the pickup driver.

Yesterday, I volunteered to be in the church nursery as I had been sick on my normal day and it just so happened that my husband’s aunt had also volunteered and were placed in the same room. I haven’t seen her for a while because she just retired and has been off to places like Kenya, the Philippines, and Missouri. She is one of those involved, social ladies that knows everyone and is generally up to speed on the happenings of our cities. I don’t know how people do that.*

Member Post

 

The Aiken County Sheriff’s Department lost a deputy Wednesday. She was young (25), pretty, and had only been on the job for two years.  It’s terrible to lose a law enforcement officer in the line of duty, but there is a special kind of sorrow to lose an officer who was off duty, having fun, […]

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