|
I've been an internet-phobe for the longest time. I have always found the web to be a place where reality is held back by a firewall, where the virtual world takes over. You never know if that cutie you're chatting up with is indeed even a woman, as opposed to a hairy 67 year old pot-bellied man out on the prowl for some perverted kicks.
But the more I troll through the web, the more I realise that there are so many people out there with so much of interesting stuff to talk about. And yes, as you might have guessed already, by that, I mean things that pertain to motorcycles.
I've been following this blog called chicomoto and it enthralls me. It's about this guy and his experiences of living with an old Harley. Magneto problems in the middle of nowhere? Check. Unpredictable tantrums from the motor? Check. Tempted to blow up his dead bike to smithereens? Check. Ah! Now here's someone who's love for his old motorcycle knows no bounds. Even after kicking 999 times to no avail, the 1000th kick will be one filled with hope. Filled with enthusiasm. Filled with the love of riding the bike home, as opposed to dumping it by the side of the road.
I've read through some of the rants of bike builders, and they're interesting too. Some of them have unnecessary details, stuff like what PJs they wear to bed and the names of their girl friends. I don't really care a rat's rear end about any of that. But if you sweep all that away, you get into their heads and hands, the way they bend and twist metal into motorcycle frames, how they resurrect engines that would have otherwise turned into heaps of rust.
All of this brings out the same old cravings of mine. I've always wanted to build bikes for a living. Although that's pretty much what I do in my free time, it's never enough. Sundays come and go and there's always so little that I've managed to do. Ah! Life's good, I say!
|
Most Popular
