apparently these last weeks have had some motor-pickle-ing moments. i don’t ride nor live in an active motorcycling home- the last ride was off the road thanks to a drunk after a game to a busty ankle and bummed arm for the household biker- i literally thought he’d been bicycling fell off his bike, not motorcycling and nearly gotten scrubbed off the mortal coil. I used his hospital check up to file my change of address to the town 😉 I was then there…officially.
the book was a library find as i wanted the original and a moment /morning/afternoon or two of library bliss to myself… if i needed a fart, i could simply walk around outside to a good handful of natural springs smelling it up as they’re want to do. I got that book, zen and now …retracing 40 years of time across a journey … chirpy as this sounds, a journey of the mind. pparsig drank, his son was on his way but not for terrifically much longer as fate would have it…any way you look at it, the original was to unravel. I was however finally into the northern nowheres and his near affair before and i’m no longer surprised, I lost the thread of the book.
as the books zen and the art of motorcycle maintainance and its retread, zen and now end in san francisco never to be dismissed from the anythings goes …literally… lifestyles-wise of it’s reputation now, I’ve another book i’ll never finish likely either,
I was told it was a gooden! it was poetry and worse yet, iambic pentameter’ed sonnet! however the tail of love found lost found lost forever only to be found with a fake love ending in a gay loveaffair tryout before dumping the narrative character for a friend… sorry lost the thread. a note on kindness, I’m not interested in damning anyone for enjoying either these books or the hinted LIVING within them.. I simply lost the thread of them and never am likely to finish reading them
a firmer note, I’ll never finish zen as a book, however the parsig one i had read to me courtesy of the talkingbook library. these others I only had a print edition handy and lost interest.
another one still unfinished ins death and white diamonds as the reader as it’s an audiobook failed and it’s been weeks and a move since i’ve tried the umpteenth time to get a few pages further… pity, i was enjoying the story of forever comedic in the absurd of how one couldn’t possibly make more errors in eliminating the evidence.
now while i can’t ride as in operate a motorcycle safely as i can not see to do more than the pokiest of speeds, adventuring over the world seems ridiculous to me as in I couldn’t go…now now i’m not saying i couldn’t chriss along whining about whatever dad wanted to do how boring!… I’m saying i’m eliminated on the legal grounds of not anywhere being able to obtain a license to drive/operate such contraptions… and i know i’d not want to anyways, motorcycle seems like death while a motorscooter? now that’s some ridin! anyone with a grain of logic realizes 40 mph versus 80 mph makes not much damned difference in the bone crunching pain and lethal death acheivable… however, I’m circular so it matters little what the facts are it seems safer and i have operated a motorscooter about a neighborhood at safer lower speeds a lot….and a little moped across town and after a critical point of applying to a local service of the bus for what would have been? the opening off any short hop cab fare about town… it only required that i be first blind…no problem, am /was… had the cane and everything…but hopping a moped to the mailbox indicated a level of travel ease that was fraud for the spirit of the service so the lady chatting with my mother after getting me back home said before leaving…chatty women …never you mind who’s fault it really is 😉 but all too soon a simpler bicycle trip showed that on a moonlit night i couldn’t any longer from a bike saddle see the white line of my part of the shoulder … I very soon neither mopeded bicycled or any of that nonsense regularly again.
but even still dreams occur, how to not walk the world or worse huffa huffa a bike through it…yet not instantly encounter the no of liscenses not handy or silliness like trying to outrun the law all around the world…we all know how greedy people are about them rules being followed… bitch as they do about them.. but what about an old style toyota microvan…not the vw microbus, the toyota microvan… literally big enough to cram a second small adult in… long enough to facilitate a cooler and tanks of cryogenic air. it wouldn’t be a victory for me persay as i cant drive but lol i’m company! and i’m happy to sock back the road sodas wherever not caught by picky pants people and the look of illegal living… I’m not nor am going to drive 🙂 solar panels and an airconditioning unit would over the course of 3 days replenish a tank enough to travel onwards- remember the time it takes to run the machine initially to get liquid air is? a long long time so likely charging batteries on the move for continued cycles of new fuel would be helpful but in any event 18 hours to start harvesting is a long time…perhaps some tim tayloring could occur. certainly it’d look stupid as shit gourmet mealing around the world on the ultimate ecogeeking about the globe rocket stoving up delicacies for lunch..bivowhacking to replenesh fuel only to not putt putt down the road but click and or wheeze asthmatically…. plenty of time to roadside fortune tell if I could keep a straight face 😉
or perhaps a hovecraft… or hover skateboard…the latter s more frightening I’ve no balance… but neither directly a plane or motorcycle so possibly just odd enough to avoid pesky legal papers i can not get as backwards as the world is ….surely someone will say so 😉 I don’t think it’s always out to lunch …I still can’t see and thus they’d catch hell letting me drive knowingly unsafe from the start 😀 although on flat land i can still bicycle about 30 miles in a day easily…hills are a bit of a bitch without a caboose… i lost most of mine with the onset of diabetes and losing 55 pounds never to return… that usually makes hill climbing tougher… I had to step off the bike usually kicking the pedal back around to stab the sinns and? hobble the hills. it wasn’t graceful but it can occur.
well, how about it? how the hell can i feel in control of adventure not a passive watcher of it? it has to still sorta be MINE? but none the same, heheheheh, even I think the above is ludicrously over the top. and sneaking out gas assist motors from my backpack to move the bike up the hill when the cops ain’t looking still seems dicey, the eagle-eyed bastards still can see further than me and woo woo the siren for the legal no no no! shame on you you cheater!