Showing posts with label Harley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harley. Show all posts

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Wearing My Heart on My....


........Bumper?

It occurred to me one day when I glanced at the back of my car that a casual observer would have no trouble identifying where my (many) allegiances lie.

This magnet is unique because it not only says "SAILORS" instead of the usual "SOLDIERS," but it also has the nickname of Sweet Girl's former squadron. This was a fundraiser for her squadron's welcome home party following the first deployment she was on. Mine got washed off in the car wash once, and I went back and insisted the young attendant go find it. He first brought me back a generic red, white, and blue one, and then I marched right back down to the car wash bay with him and found the one that was mine. He didn't understand what the big deal was about having THAT magnet.


This is my newest decal, and I don't know if Hubby has noticed it yet or not. Not only do I think he secretly harbors some motorcycle envy because he ONLY rides a Honda, but he's also fundamentally against decals and bumper stickers in general. He thinks they attract too much attention and might cause a nice policeman to write me a ticket who otherwise might not have noticed that I was going 85 mph on the interstate except for the screaming messages on the back of my car. Whatever. He once removed three bumper stickers from my car BEFORE WE WERE EVEN MARRIED because he said they might get me in trouble. He may have a point, however. Years ago I was headed home from school, and a policeman got behind me. I was in town, so I wasn't speeding, and I knew I hadn't broken any laws or anything. I changed lanes, he changed lanes. I pulled into the convenience store parking lot, he pulled into the convenience store parking lot. I got out of my car, he got out of his car. He walked up to me and said, "Do you mean to tell me you actually jump out of perfectly good airplanes?" He had noticed my skydiving bumper sticker that I was so proud of at that time. I think he wanted to write me a ticket for stupidity.


Kind of ironic, then, that Hubby was the one who put this decal on my back window as soon as we brought the SUV home with us. It's quite faded and peeling off a little bit, but it will have to do until we find another one. I neglected to take pictures of another decal that's inside the back window. It proclaims that I am an alum of the University of Georgia, not JUST some random fan. I think I'll put three of those suckers in the back window, one for each degree. But then I might actually feel guilty enough to join the alumni association, which so far hasn't happened.



Just in case someone misses the Bulldog decal, this is my trailer hitch cover. On the advice of my good friend Wilson, it has a lock on it. Apparently a common activity among tailgaters is to steal each other's trailer hitch covers. The things drunks will do to pass the time before kickoff. I've never pulled a trailer in my life, and it would be dangerous for me to do so, but I do have to remove it when we put the tandem rack in the hitch. Getting the lock off this hitch cover is a real bitch.




This isn't technically an example of wearing my heart on my bumper, since it's on the front of the car. My same good friend Wilson told me not to buy the mirrored tag because it was "ghetto." But even he had to admit that the letters matched my SUV perfectly, and it looked good. It's so shiny, you can see my Native American moccasins in the reflection.



This decal is actually two in one. Not only does it identify me as a cyclist who rides in BRAG, but it also depicts a tandem bicycle. That's Katydid on the back. Doesn't it look just like us? I keep telling her she's going to have to take her turn as captain one of these days. She can shift gears and brake just as well as I can. And she probably won't take the chances I do, so we'll automatically be safer. She would probably never have to hear me scream from the back, "If you ride across that ditch, I'm going to KILL you!"



This one is another two-fer. The frame around the plate identifies me as a Navy mom. I'm hoping that may come in handy someday if I ever DO get stopped by some patriotic patrolman. Maybe he'll even be a veteran. I also bought one of the specialty plates honoring cyclists in our state. God knows we don't get much honor when we're actually ON the road ON our bikes. Hubby thought I was going to buy the specialty plate for teachers in Georgia. I would have, but I didn't agree with where the money goes. The extra funds generated by the educator specialty plates go toward teachers who have been injured (presumably by acts of violence, I guess) in the course of their jobs. Not that I disagree with those teachers receiving extra compensation beyond what they would normally get, but I think it just helps such a small population. I'd rather see that money go into a pool to pay for sick leave for teachers who experience catastrophic illnesses or injuries, either to them or their family members. Many teachers have to exhaust their sick leave caring for parents, children, etc., and then they can't actually afford to be sick themselves.

I think this one almost sent Hubby into apoplexy. Not because it's Georgia Gymnastics, because he has accepted that as a relatively harmless obsession of mine. And it rarely has to involve him. I only drag him to one meet a year, and he insists on taking a flask into THAT. No, what nearly sent him over the edge was the fact that this was on the painted part of the car. It looks like a decal, but it's actually a magnet. When it had been on the car for a couple of days, I said to him, "By the way, that's a magnet on the back of my car, not a sticker." He replied, "Oh, I know. I already checked it out."

Men are just weird.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Gotta Love Money....


I sold my motorcycle today. It was a bittersweet experience, because it was, after all, my FIRST motorcycle. And I would have sworn it would have been my ONLY motorcycle. Who would have predicted that hubby would win a Harley? And give it to me? But we were up to 4 motorcycles in the basement, along with assorted other junk that I will post about in the future, and we needed the room. Talented as I am (ha ha ha ha ha ha), I can only ride ONE motorcycle at a time. And anybody I know who is remotely interested in riding a motorcycle already has one. Except my brother. For some reason, he is between Harleys at the moment. But he would never have stooped to owning a Honda Shadow 600 anyway, much less one with an ENGINE CAGE.

I sold it to the same dealership where I bought it, and they not only gave me close to what my dare-I-hope-to-get-this-much price was, they also refunded $400 of a service plan that I prepaid for when I bought the bike. If I had sold it to an individual, I would have just been OUT that money, because the plan was not transferable.

So now instead of taking money out of my savings account to pay the DEPOSIT on our spring break trip next April, I can use the windfall from selling the motorcycle to pay for ALL of the trip. There just aren't too many things in the world better than going on a trip that's already paid for when you go.........

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Productive Day.....




Doesn't he have the sexiest calves in the whole world? I mean, for a man....




We went and picked scuppernongs this afternoon. Hubby loves them, and he saw an ad in the paper for a place where you could pick your own. We rode the motorcycles down there, which made it that much better. Of course, it also limited how many we could pick. I guess that's a good thing too. Maybe there will be a few left by Monday so I can take some to school for lunch.

We also went to the Harley place to see about getting a sissy bar put on my bike, along with a luggage rack. We are doing a ride next weekend to Helen, and we originally thought we would spend the night up there. We have since changed our minds about that, but I still need a sissy bar if I'm going to carry anything on my bike. Like my lunch. Or my bookbag. Or my big-dog camera. In the week I've had it, I've already replaced the seat on my Harley ($$$$$) and now I'm adding the sissy bar and luggage rack ($$$$$). But the bike was free, after all, so I can justify spending money on it. If I have to. Which I don't.

The ride next weekend is an escorted ride called The Ride to Survive, to benefit our local rape crisis center. We did it last year, and it was awesome. We were probably in the first third of the group (probably around 200 motorcycles), and when we got to the turning around point, we could see the tail of the "snake" coming into the parking lot. It was a neat thing to see. Having police escorts all the way was also very cool. Blowing through red lights, having cars pull over for us, people stopping to wave at us when we went by. I didn't have to worry about being left behind, getting lost, or not keeping up.

I also did some housework this morning; I was washing dishes at 6:15 this morning. On a Saturday. Vacuumed, mopped, stripped the bed and washed the sheets, did the grocery shopping. I'll never be a good housekeeper, but getting up and getting some things done allowed me to go off on the Harley with a clear conscience.

And the Dawgs won, although they nearly gave me heart failure.

Altogether a very productive day.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Husband of the Year......


I told you in my profile that I married the world's last perfect man. Today I have the photo evidence to prove it.

Hubby works for Pepsi-Cola, and around here they distribute Dr. Pepper. They often have sales promotions as incentive for good sales (duh), and I will give you the official details of one here:

  • Blah blah blah numbers, blah blah blah blah percentage, blah blah blah Dr. Pepper, blah blah blah blah blah incentive, blah blah blah promotion...
Anyway, hubby blah-blah-blahed his way to a new Harley. His boss called a couple of months ago to tell him his name had been drawn from those who met the quota for the prescribed selling period.

That's not what makes him Husband of the Year.

Are you ready?

He.


Gave.



It.


To.


Me.

We both have motorcycles, relatively new (2006). I have a Honda Shadow 600; he has a Honda Shadow 1100. The Harley that he won is a Sportster XL 883L. (The "L" stands for "low," and that's a good thing.) He's not a big Harley fan anyway, and the engine on the Harley is smaller than the one on his Honda. In his words, "I ain't going down to no damn scooter."

After two months of thinking we were never going to get it (evidently Sportster 883s don't exist in the state of Georgia), the Dr. Pepper promotion guy (whose name hubby thought was Bob but turned out to be George) finally found us a 2009 model at a dealership about 80 miles away. And it wasn't orange. I would have had to turn down an orange motorcycle. Not only did hubby give me the motorcycle, he took a day off from golf to go with me to get it. We rode double on his bike up there so I wouldn't be riding the new one back all by myself.

What a guy.

I'm a lucky girl. And don't think I don't remind myself of that every single day.