alt.economics

Jan 29, 2008
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I am finding myself in a bit of a quandary over the presidential election. I seemed to have fipped sides, although who can tell which side is which anymore. Once a staunch right-winger, recent events in my personal and business life have caused me to reconsider my values.

It is no secret that the middle class is disappearing in America and the rich truly are getting richer and poor truly are getting poorer. I find myself slipping into the latter class as do many, many others.

At the present time I am in need, again, of motorcycle parts. Unfortunately I am also cashless, but I do have a wealth of things of value both physical and mental.

I have started a parts-swapping bbs on the high slab website.

I made an appeal to folks on the Road Show Podcast and so far there has been little interest which I find curious. If anyone here would like to check it out go to:

www.highslab.com/bbs

Please register and post.....WE DON'T NEED ANY STEEENKING CASHOLA!!

Return to the Desert

Jan 21, 2008
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P1080863

Making Peace with the Desert

It was the first time back to the desert since "the accident." The first time I had seen the brown and the scrub I love so well since it feel away out of the corner of my eye as I lost consciousness inside a trauma helicopter.

Now, six month later I had a bit of trepidation as I loaded the big bike for the short first test run. It was to be a test, the best kind of test, that of man and machine, not in opposition but as a team.

My Iron Horse had risen like a Phoenix from the ashes of the insurance company graveyard, much like the paramedics had pulled my broken body out of the sand six months ago. Now we were one again carving the sensuous curves along the edge of the Temblor Range. The Pheonix calling to me now and again as I reined her in through some of the more familiar high-speed curves. She was ready, she has no fear, she's ready to run at redline. I however am not and hold back, I hope she understands.

Now to the sand and the dirt which make up Seven Mile Road, the gateway to Soda Lake.
Careful here now. Big Machinery has been by here lately leaving ruts for the front tire the will surely through us down. "Careful," I say to her again, "my leg of pins and needles can't pick you up like I used too."

Lookout point comes up quickly. A corkscrew and a half up an old cinder cone. At the top a worn sign, a chemical toilet, some funny businees going on in an old jeep and a brand new Yamaha motorcycle.

Doing my best to ignore the rest I pull off my helmet and engage my new friend "Michael" in conversation. He is freindly enough and when he smiles his tooth look as new and as unworn as his motorcycle. We decide to join forces for a while, the goal, that elusive spot where one can actually walk up and touch the San Andreas fault. Well, between his map and my GPS we never did find it.

We took a couple of pictures and I watched him zoom dustily away.

I made a can of tomato soup and 2 cups of coffee with a blowtorch just to prove it could be done. Listened to the hum of the high voltage lines again for a while. The followed the moon for the hours ride home.

I'm back.