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Goldwing
"I'm very brave generally," he went on in a low voice: "only today I happen to have a headache."
-- Lewis Carroll (Tweedledum, in Through the Looking Glass)
Sunday, October 24, 1999
One year ago: ANTZ
Two years ago: Laboratory of Fun
I created a cool java applet on Friday! (That means I retyped it from the book I'm learning from, really.) It uses random numbers to change the colors on a bunch of vertical lines. When I was typing the code, I didn't realize that the colors would keep changing; I thought that it would display once, and I'd need to refresh it to see the randomness. Instead, it kept going, jumping around like a variation of TV static. That shows how much I understand about what I'm doing -- but I'll continue.
At some points during the week it seemed possible that I'd bring H--- (Jack's younger daughter) with me to Bellingham this weekend, but that didn't work out, so I drove up north on my own Friday evening. Jack had a project for Friday night -- his supervisor has been getting him into home brewing, and tonight was the night to bottle this first batch. I assisted, down in the courtyard by the garage, by pouring out the bleach-water that was sanitizing the bottles (recycled dutch beer bottles with ceramic caps held on by metal clamps, like the Grolsch beer shown here) and rinsing them using a cool little bottle washer jet spray that screwed on to the faucet. This gadget took some getting used to, but was very handy; pressing down on a little arm with the bottle rim opened a valve and let the water spray in. But it made some odd noises when I didn't press down hard enough, at first.
Jack's boss and Jack bottled about ten gallons of an India Pale Ale, which should be ready to drink in a few days (after it carbonates itself). That's a lot of beer! Jack says he'll bring some to Orycon.
* * * * * * * *
Jack went in to work on Saturday morning, while I lounged around and finished the book I was reading the other week, Investment Biker by Jim Rogers. I think Rogers was sick of the whole "ride motorcycles around the world" project by the end. The part of the trip where he (and his young, pretty companion -- I'll confess that I first wrote "trophy woman") rode through Canada and Alaska got very short shrift.
Jack got finished at work, came to pick me up, and we went for subs at Quiznos, at the other end of town. We do seem to spend a good portion of these weekends driving to the northern end of Bellingham, since Costco and other retail outlets are up there. Jack revealed that he wanted to spend some time doing errands, because there was a motorcycle that he was tempted to buy. If he delayed going back to see it, he increased the chances that it would be sold before his return, which he half wanted to happen.
Jack saw a young girl by a store, and thought it might be his daughter A----. I'd assumed she was back in Juvenile detention, since I knew she'd had a court date on Friday! But Jack told me that she'd been on the lam most of the last few days, including a horrific scene where he'd found her at a downtown cafe Thursday night, and tried to restrain her until the cops arrived. (There was a warrant out for her because of breaking parole and curfew, etc.) The fighting and struggling were for naught, since she managed to escape just before the police got there. This whole situation is a serious heartache for Jack, and it doesn't look like it will get better anytime soon. He's completely discouraged with what's going on right now. We didn't hear a word from A---- anytime during the weekend.
Well, the bike was still there when we drove by. Jack looked at it, and spoke to the guy that owned it, then we drove off. He wanted to buy it, after a test drive, if the seller would accept his offer. It would be tight, but I offered to loan him some of the money. Then he explained that the reason he was interested in the bike, an older Honda Goldwing, was because it was a big enough bike that both of us could ride it! Gulp! But I still was encouraging. We went home and hunted in the garage for one of Jack's helmets, so he could do a test drive. No luck on finding it (it's not in the garage after all; probably it's in the storage unit he's still renting) but he decided to go buy a new one.
We went over to a "Leather Specialties and Dart Supplies" establishment that Jack had been wanting to check out. He was nervous that it might turn out to be the other kind of leather store, but no, it was a motorcycle place. The darts must be a side hobby of the store owner. Jack bought a helmet. "The smallest legal helmet" was the owner's description, which didn't reassure me. Jack said the open sides made it easier for him to hear, though. We went to get cash, and returned to the seedy apartment block where the bike was for sale.
Jack took a test ride while I held the money, feeling more like a character in a B movie every moment. My imagination had him rolling the bike, since I'd just finished the Rogers book which talked about all their bike problems in the Sahara or Siberia, but he returned without incident and they did the paperwork for the sale. I drove behind Jack as we went home, noting some sparks when the bike cornered and the footpeg dragged on the pavement. The rear shocks and tire needed some air, it seemed.
We spent a quiet evening, watching Thunderheart on movielounge. Not a bad movie! Michael Apted is familiar to me as the creator of the Seven-up documentaries that follow a group of British youngsters from the age of seven, up to their present age of forty two. I was trying to tell Jack that, in addition to Thunderheart's fictionalized version of goings-on on the reservation, Apted had done a documentary, Incident at Oglalla, that covers some of the same material. Of course, I couldn't remember the details. I do miss having net access at Jack's house!
* * * * * * * *
The weather was warm and sunny this morning, so Jack decided to do what he needed to get the new bike up and running. We poked around to figure out where the air valves were hidden for the shocks, then he drove off to the gas station while I braided my hair and prepared myself for my first-ever motorcycle ride.
When I'd first inserted myself into the passenger seat on Saturday night, it was evident that Jack would have to remove the backrest that would normally be right behind him, and just lean on me. He'd done this, and I put on the heavy jacket he'd loaned me, and the helmet that the bike's former owner had thrown into the deal. I scrambled on, Jack got on in front of me, and we were off!
My main view was the back of Jack's head, and I was pretty tense about the whole thing, but I concentrated on relaxing my body (I try to do this in the dentist's chair, too!) and leaning correctly into the turns. We headed down the Chuckanut Highway, past the state park where we'd camped, and stopped at the Oyster Creek Inn. They weren't open quite yet, so we walked down the hill to the Taylor Shellfish Farms, down on the water. We didn't buy any oysters, just wandered around and inspected the place. (Jack's not really a seafood fan.) The restuarant had opened when we got back, so we had lunch. Tasty! And Jack got the coffee he'd been craving.
The ride back was less nerve-wracking for me. I was able to relax and enjoy myself. The day was so gorgeous, a perfect fall afternoon and the leaves were at their peak. Jack is thinking now about trips we can take, but I don't think we'll be doing this before next spring. The bike needs tweaking (though it ran fine today) and the weather will be too cold and wet soon. I think we'll have fun when we go! And I already told Jack that I'm searching my mind to find some activities that I like, to which I can introduce Jack. Maybe I'll take him to the opera!
Jack decided to go back to work, so I left around three. I took the opportunity to stop at the Burlington outlet mall on the way home -- usually it's too early or too late for me to shop there. I looked in every store, I think, but only bought running shorts (to wear for dancing) in an array of rainbow colors.
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