Because of that I naturally woke up early, too; only it's been spitting rain on and off all night and looks like it'll rain some more before it's done.
* * *
I took the motorcycle for a ride yesterday and ended up being rained on. Just a bit--I think I traveled about a mile in a moderate sprinkle--but it was enough to get Billy Joel's "You May Be Right" going through my head. ("Even rode my motorcycle in the rain....")
All the careful cleaning I did on Sunday was undone. *sigh*
I managed to dodge the other showers that had popped up, though, and by the time I got home I was dry. I put the bike in the garage, then pulled the seat off in order to repair the tear it's had since before I bought it.
The seat is covered in vinyl. I'm not sure if it's plain vinyl or if it's got cloth backing. If it does, then, my plan is to find some iron-on patches and use those to permanently close the tear. Originally I had thought "duct tape" but then I realized that a couple of iron-on patches would hold in a way even duct tape cannot. And unlike duct tape the adhesive won't dry out and turn to ineffective sticky goo, the way tape adhesives do.
But I have to admit I looked at the seat and thought, "I wonder how hard it would be to make a new seat cover from leather...." Thin, tanned leather (not rawhide!) would do, and a decent sewing machine can sew it, so why not? The hard part would be finding the leather and making the pattern, IMHO, and that wouldn't be all that damned hard.
Still, just patching the seat cover is easier and cheaper, and if I'm right I don't even need to go buy iron-on patches--I've got some around here somewhere. And it'll work fine until I can afford to get fancy.
...and I'd wager that I could find a pre-made leather seat cover on-line for less than it'd cost me to make one of my own, anway.
* * *
Well, here's something:
Speaker John Boehner's office released this graphic showing exactly how much of the Keystone XL pipeline has been blocked by Obama and his administration. That is to say, most of it and the part that actually connects to the source of oil.
* * *
The movie Yellowbeard contained what was quite possibly the last movie performances of Graham Chapman and James Mason.
Mason, playing the captain of the ship that the entire ensemble ends up mutinying against, gets one of the best lines in the movie. Sailors are signing on for the voyage and trying to smuggle women aboard using various silly schemes.
"Gentlemen," he says, "the ancient superstition that a woman on board brings bad luck is now a proven scientific fact."
The captain goes on to prove it by having "Mr. Prostitute" as part of his crew. Mr. Prostitute is obviously a hot young woman with a fake mustache; and when the ship has put to sea and the captain is introducing the crew to the officers, he goes down the list: Mr. so-and-so, in charge of discipline; Mr. what's-his-face, in charge of discipline; Mr. John Yaya, in charge of discipline.
"And this is Mr. Prostitute, who's in charge of--"
And someone laughs.
The captain immediately points his finger at the offender and says something like, "Nail that man's foot to the deck!"
...which is one of the several reasons that the crew mutinies later on, and puts the captain and all his officers (including Mr. Prostitute) to sea in a rowboat. So, "myth confirmed!"
But during that sign up scene with the awesome line, the captain has another one. Some guys are trying to smuggle a woman aboard and Marty Feldman's character introduces her as "Able Seaman Smith!"
"Smith," the captain observes dryly, "has tits."
And as "Able Seaman Smith" is walking back down the gangplank, she passes a guy holding a sheep, and says, "Don't bother, lad. They're fairly strict on this one."
I really need to get that on DVD.
* * *
Temperatures are supposed to be closer to seasonal after today, which suits me fine. Riding my motorcycle with the suede jacket on was too warm when the temps were in the 80s, and I expect it to be even worse when it's actually summer. I'm gonna have to invest in a proper riding jacket, something that can be configured to ventilate and not parboil me. (Bonus points for spine and elbow armor, of course.)
The last thing I want to do is go riding without some kind of protection. I mean, I could probably get away with doing it, but why take the risk? I see those idiot kids on crotch rockets in shorts and tee shirts, without even wearing helmets, and I just shake my head in dismay: it takes one moron doing something stupid, and then you're facing a year's worth of skin grafts--or worse. WTF.
So if I have to, I'll keep wearing that jacket rather than ride with bare arms when I'm on the road bike. It's different when I ride the dirt bike; that's fine with a hoodie and helmet since I don't go very fast when I'm off road. Impacts are more of a worry, and since I don't do jumps or do other things like that, my biggest concern is simple falls at low speeds.
Sunday, after I'd done my maintenance stuff, I saw a guy with a brand-new bike just riding around the neighborhood. I say "brand new" because it had a temporary plate on it; the way he was doing things it kind of looked like he was a new rider and didn't have much experience. But he had on a t-shirt and jeans, and no helmet, gloves, or jacket. *sigh*
I'm thinking about signing up for the intermediate riding course the state offers. I've had this bike for six months and my license for a similar period of time; I'm not really an expert but I don't want to take the beginner course again. (Day one: "how to use the clutch" *whimper*)
For the intermediate course you show up with your own bike, which sounds good to me.
* * *
Anyway, it's Friday morning. I woke up hungry and made a cheeseburger omelette; I had one of those earlier this week (Tuesday, I think) and I just used up the other half-pound of hamburger. I've got to go shopping, so I'll probably buy another meatwad; this time I'll divide one pound up into thirds specifically for when I want another cheeseburger omelette. Worst case, I throw the thirds into a pot for [whatever].
As a post-breakfast treat (their breakfast, not mine) the cats each got a large forkful of the browned ground beef, and there was still more beef than I needed for this recipe. That kept them from mooching while I was eating. Mostly.