Nah man, I ain't quit. I just been a bit distracted.

Well, a good day/afternoon/night/3 a.m. boredom session to you great internet readers.

I have not died, quit, fallen off my tricycle, or been mauled by wild debt collectors (yet). As the title states, I have just been a touch distracted. Well perhaps that is an understatement, I have been wholly distracted and occupied by a life that has more turns than a rally race.

I know I said that I was planning on doing some machine work on the bike. It is still a plan, just hasn't actually made it to a reality yet. I have worked pretty much every lunch break I have had since that post and I can no longer hang out late here at work. So when 5 o'clock hits I have to go and brave the freeway to get home.

In the last few months, I have gone from the single, divorced dad with weekend visits, trying to figure out what in the world I am supposed to do with my afternoons. And somewhere in the last few months have become the sappy in love, full-time dad and student that can't figure out how to fit everything in the time I have in a day. So the bike has suffered from a serious case of neglect. If it was closer to me, I bet that I would get the evil eye every time I walked by it. But luckily enough the chop is way on the other side of town under a tarp. Hidden. That's right, my chop is in solitary confinement. I can hear its lonesome sniffles from my seat here, nearly 60 miles away.

"Come to me and save me from a fate worse than rust. I am lonely and neglected. You promised to fix me up and take me down the freeway so we could kick the mirrors on luxury cars. Don't you remember that? Where is the love?"

So yeah. I am a bad builder. I have left my mid-life crisis toy languishing in a backyard. I should have my perpetual teenager card revoked. And be soundly beaten with a wet noodle.

Please forgive me for my sins.

So you want to drive in Southern California - Part 3. Beware the idiots

That's right, beware of those that are clearly idiots.

I have a tendency to see many morons first hand. And I am here to pass this knowledge of what to look for when traversing the freeways.

To put it in the simplest terms. Everyone on the freeway is an idiot. But that really doesn't help you, does it? There are a few classes of idiots, and each have their own things that you should watch out for. So let's cover a few here.

Luxury cars, watch for the Lexuses (Lexii?), for they do not know what they do. Yes keep a close eye on any and all true luxury marquees. These are the people that have spent insane amounts of money for status. They have made it to this point by stomping on anyone they deem lesser than themselves. And on the freeway they are no better. As they are left behind by the car before them, they do not care about the people that await their use of a gas pedal. Nor do they move to another lane to let people pass. These are not the type of people that will allow anyone to pass them. They are your managers and their goal in life is to be an obstacle in your drive from point A to point B. It is much like the way they operate at work.

And on that note. Also watch for the old luxury cars. These are the vehicle of the wannabe's. That's right welfare mom's and deadbeat dad's that wish they could be rich. And they would do it too, if it wasn't so much work. So instead they will drive a 1982 BMW with a blown headgasket and duct taped quarter windows with Dayton wire rims. Too fucking cool.

Anyone with a NASCAR sticker. I don't give a damn if it is a Flash Gordon, or some ridiculous number sticker on the back of their Caravan. The only reason these people are NASCAR fans is due to the fact they are fascinated by anyone that knows how to keep a vehicle under complete control at speeds over 35mph. These people live vicariously through their tube framed "stock car" racing, Southern heroes.

The American made full size Tonka truck. These are owned by women with weight issues and men with penis envy. Please do not get this mixed up with a serious off-road machine. You will know the difference. A serious vehicle is designed to hit the dirt at WOT and the people that own them know what they are doing. No, the ones I talk about are the ones with a 14" lift using blocks on the leaf springs. 22" rims with rubberband tires and enough chrome lights to keep the Mohave lit up like Christmas. These people have spent insane amounts of money on something that can't even make it over a concrete divider at the local Wal Mart without the owner becoming anxious. You rock people. And someday when my hair falls out and my penis cannot stand up without the aid of blue pills, I may have to buy one myself. Nahh.

Now for a minor detour back to the original purpose of this blog.

I have gotten the OK to use a mill at my job. So next week I hope to drag my trees over and get the nasty stuf taken off and get it ready for new nasty stuff to be welded back on. So stay tuned for some bike building.

So you want to drive in Southern California - Part 2

Let me give a brief idea on the layout of this wondrous system of roadways here in So. Cal.

I have heard the line about the interstate and freeway system being the arteries of the nation. The same is true for California. The roads are what keep California alive and rockin'.

But you have to understand these are not the arteries of a 20 yr old marathon runner. No. These are the arteries of a night-shift factory foreman. You know the one. That guy in the glass room. The cheap beer swilling, burger chomping, 2 pack a day smoking, 5 years from retirement foreman.

And the cars in these cholesterol hardened roads are its life's blood. Just looking for the perfect place to lodge itself up against and create a wondrous aneurysm.

There are only a few things that really gum up the works here in So. Cal. I will list a few here for you.

Interchanges.
Reduction in lanes.
Accidents.
Expansion in the number of lanes.
Curves.
Straightaways.

I am not trying to say that the drivers on the freeways are complete morons. No, not at all. Perhaps they would do very well on bicycles. Unfortunately when you place them in or on anything that goes faster than 20 MPH, their IQ begins to drop by an equal amount. It could be from the lack of real driving adversities. Those without a challenge will create challenges for themselves. Thereby making life miserable for those of us that just want to move along and are honestly entertained by seeing the road move beneath their feet.

So you want to drive in Southern California - Part 1

Since I am currently in slacker mode for the bike build, I have been rather sporadic on my updates. Mainly this is due to the fact that there has been no progress on the Honda. With this in mind the blog has taken a slight detour into the slightly disturbing and convoluted corners of my mind. This might be a bit off-putting for some folk, but please bear with me. I will return to the roots of this blog. Me and the blog we have had some good times, you know?

So since I am unable to update my little blog with anything motorcycle related at the moment, I will just have to do a little song and dance to keep people coming to the shores that is the deserted island of me.

Now as do most other Californians, I commute. I get up in the morning, drink my coffee and rush onto the roadways to spend an hour parking in the morning. Do some work for 8+ hours. Rush out of the office and park for another hour. It is a good time to be had by all. Now I bet you are saying, "Well Shroom, what the fuck do you do during the two hours of your life that is being slowly drained away by sitting parked in long lines with your fellow sheeple?"

I could listen to tapes on CD or cassette. Listen to talk radio, someone interesting and deep like Dr. Laura or Rush. Or even learn how to phase through walls from deep Zen meditation. Do I do any of these? Nah. I think about things.

"What kinds of things?" you may ask. All sorts of things that only deep intellectuals like myself think about. Well intellectuals and sociopaths. I think about the life, the universe, and everything. I think about the meaning of Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, where those lost socks really go, and why the sky is blue. I think about love, like, family, and why ketchup tastes so damn good on fries. Deep meaningful thoughts.

But for a little while I want to take you into my head and tell you about this special thing I get to experience daily, called Southern California commuting. This is going to be a multi part series. As of this time, I have no idea how many parts. More than likely I will write about it until I either

A. Get bored.
Or
B. Get side-tracked.

So stay tuned for this new series, only available here. Unless I can gain syndication with a high class magazine, like Penthouse.

It's confirmed.

Hello, I am Shroom, and I am an addict.

So for the past two weeks I have sat on the fence about getting another bike. So I look, ogle, and drool. But not bought.

Well yesterday afternoon I get a call from a guy named Don that I met a few weeks back.He and his brothers were doing an estate sale for their mom that had passed away. I had just dropped by to see what deals could be there. That day I left with a $20 dollar TV set. But while I was there I saw this '78 KZ1000. Well hell, you know me from this blog, I couldn't pass up asking about it and expressing my interest.

Well it never sold during the estate sale, and the last couple of weeks he has received a few offers but nothing panned out. Last night I get a call about working out a deal. We gab a bit and I tell him that I am struggling in the cash department, otherwise I would buy it from him. So after talking a bit more, he agrees to float a check as a down payment and let me make some payments for the bike. If it didn't sell, he was going to be stuck hauling it back to Nevada and was not too thrilled at that one.

So here is what I am getting in a few weeks.

A 1978 KZ1000 with the Kawasaki fairing, I think Vetter made these. With a set of hard saddle bags. These things are huge, but ugly as sin. No, I don't mean ugly, I mean UGLY! They look like a pair of plastic briefcases. And not the cool ones they make now, remember this is a '78. The motor turns, has three boxes of parts and pieces. Along with a birthcontrol helmet. If I wore it, I would never get laid again. And trust me,, I don't get it nearly as much as I would like now.

The motor still turns, but it hasn't been registered in about 10 years. So I figure that a carb rebuild or clean out, new battery and of course a fun trip to the DMV are gonna be in order.

Now as I was telling a friend of mine last night. I must be sick. I have already decided that the fairing, bags and probably every piece I can will go away. Should I use milk crates or cardboard for their final resting spot? Fo now I plan on riding it fucking silly, but this will be a cafe bike as soon as the chop gets rolling. So project number 2 is being planned before project number 1 is even finished.

For now though, I plan on doing the barnstorming get it running and ride the snot out of it bit. I am almost 100% sure that I will need the second set of wheels.

Yeah I am fucked in the head. But hey if we can't have an obsession or three, then I wouldn't be able to get any of the neat little happy pills.

So I am breaking a promise I made.

I promised that this blog would not be a bitch fest. I am too old to go all emo and shit on people. Whaa.

Well you know, fuck it. If you don't like it, just close the window and don't come back. Bye.

I backed out of the other KZ the other night. $200 was a good deal to be honest. I have put some shit together that looked worse and kept them alive indefinitely. But money is very tight at the moment. Hell they cut my power the other day and it appears that my 'net access is off too. Thankfully my neighbors have no idea how to secure a WAP. Hooray for open AP's that I can hop on.

Last night was a great night. I sat around and drank some beers with old friends that I faded away from years ago. Marriage and life got in the way. But for some odd reason they thought I was OK enough to actually look for. Makes ya feel like an alright person. Once in a while I need that kind of positive reinforcement. "Hey Shroom, you aren't a total fuckhead, so we wanted to say hi."

So after a good night out with good people, I cruised on home in the wee hours with the boys in tow. Off to bed and slept in. Damn can't remember the last time I slept until 8 in the morning without flipping and flopping. Another plus.

As the light came in the apartment to inform me that the day has begun, I rolled over and sparked up a Camel. Only three left, gonna have to get more.

The thoughts of how to finagle my "finances" was ticking through my little brain. Gas bill, car payment, rent, moving fees, etc. I began to think about what the boys need for the first day of school. Well the eldest needs some new shoes. Those skateboarding kids destroy shoes like I destroy my liver. The thought suddenly smacked me.

School starts in a little over a week and I have no fucking clue on how to get the little one to school...

Ummm. Fuck?

School starts at a few minutes before 8 am, which isn't bad, but I am gone from town at 6:30. Grandma watches the boys during the day, but my ex has commandeered her car. And do I actually believe that she is gonna be trustworthy enough to give the car back to her moms so she can run the boys around? Highly unlikely.

OK I would trust their grandmother in my car, but then how the hell do I get to work? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe buying that damn KZ wasn't quite the stupid move I thought it was. Well too bad I didn't think about this about three days ago...

OK, now I gotta figure out how the hell to get my boys around town during the week and get my fat ass outta town at the same time. I seriously doubt that my work will be to happy if I was missing 2 hrs every day. Sometimes the world just loves to bend you over and stuff you without lube. I should be used to this by now, but can't I at least get dinner and a few drinks or something from this screwing?

Feel sorry for me dammit!

Maybe I do have issues.

No updates on the chop lately. Busy and just a bit frazzled.

So what do I do when I am not tweaking on the project? I go bike shopping!

Maybe I did get dropped on my head when I was a baby. Or it could be one toke too many, or perhaps my liver has begun to poison my bloodstream.

Right now I have a couple of leads on some late 70's early 80's KZ's. Both of them are projects, but not quite the project the chop is. Probably tags, carbs and all the other good things you have to replace on a bike that has sat around for too long.

I should be heading up to check one out tonight, not sure if the deal will pan out. But I will know more tonight. The price is very good, almost too good to pass up. It would get me on two wheels and save me a few bucks on gas. Plus the one tonight is the perfect candidate for a cafe treatment.

Hrmm. How many bikes does one man need? I am not too sure, though I guess I will find out.