NAMED!

So after some consideration and suggestions (some constructive, others curious) I've settled on a name for the bike. I've gone with my friends Ashley and Tom (S'Mat)'s suggestions and combined them. Going forward, her friends will know her as Jade, but to the rest of the world she'll be Lady Limerick.

It seems that those were the only suggestions that seemed to heed my asking to go along with the female theme, but it's not by default that those were the winners. As Ashley said, "JADE, DAMMIT, JADE. Asian hooker = sleek, sexy, fast. Typically cleaner than the North American variety. You may tell yourself it's not good for you or your bank account, but dammit, it's fun and you'll tell your friends about your experiences riding her. :D"

Tom justified his suggestion by adding, "one of the names i thought of briefly seems to be nicer for your baby: Limerick? its from the emerald isle and all... plus, adding a 'Lady' in front would feminize a charm... so how about Lady Limerick?"

Both of them seemed to key in on the fact that my baby is green, and though my bike friends call her the pickle and Steph lovingly wanted to call her Kermit, it'll be Lady Limerick, Jade. I just hope LL Cool J doesn't get wind of it and whine about identity infringements.

So it has been decided and it will be good.

P.S. Oh, and I swear I will get back to a "regular" blogging schedule now that the work month from hell is over and I don't have to work every weekend of the month. Next up, the long put off and hopefully eagerly anticipated blog entry about the first leg of the London experience from my June trip.

Has Anyone Tried To Pick You Up Lately?

This post was inspired by Princess Pointful. In her last post she mentioned pick up attempts and the failures that came along with them. She invited stories of our own experiences in failure which made me remember one such incident many years ago in Atlanta.

Tom (S'Mat) and I were down in Peachland USA visiting with his dad and step mother. One of the first nights that we were down there, Tom's dad and Uncle Mike (the coolest 18 year old living in a mid 50's body) took us out to a local bar. Keep in mind now that we were only about 16 or 17 at the time and therefore too young to even drink legally in Canada... Yet somehow we were permitted entry into a somewhat decent bar in Atlanta. After trying to not giggle ourselves silly on how we'd managed to pass for at least 5 years older, we settled in.

Now for the ladies out there who have always wondered. Yes, Tom has always been good with women and especially those of the stunning variety. So it was no surprise to me then that he started up with one of the waitresses in the bar. I believe her name was Sarah and she was I think 24, placing her at least 7 or 8 years older than us. After the night was through he had her number and a date was arranged. Skipping the details of that, I found myself out for another night in Atlanta a few days later.

Having to dress the part of an older college man or something of that sort, I found myself wingmanning outside of an establishment while Tom and Sarah put the wraps on their date. As I waited, trying to figure out how I'd ended up in my situation, a ratty little compact pulled up beside me on the roadway. Inside the car was what appeared to be a woman. To this day, I'm not that sure of that. It wasn't her that I noticed first though... The car was a clunker to put it mildly and to add to it's charm, there was no front seat and what appeared to be some sort of throw rug in the back. The spectacle of that alone is worthy of a post, but even in typed form, this description does it no justice.

Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, this lady was not. I was taken aback by who or what this person was stopping to talk to me on the side of the road but one look at the shag rug in the back tipped me off that she may have been in fact a hooker. When she managed to blow a bubble while still speaking to me, I figured she was all business. Being barely old enough to have watched and appreciated Pretty Woman, what was happening to me completely went against how I thought John and hooker interactions were supposed to go. Either that or she thought I was an imported gigolo and had some sort of yellow fever going on.

After being visually stunned by the car itself and the oddity behind the wheel, I gathered myself to listen to what she was saying to me. So while she was blowing (ha ha ha... perverts) a bubble mid speech, she asked me if I wanted to go for a ride and have some fun. I found the whole situation completely ridiculous and did my best to not laugh outright infront of her. I politely declined and I think walked and then ran away.

A short while later, Tom and I were on our way back home to his dad's. I was driving with my trusty learner's permit which fooled the Americans and Tom and I were detailing the events of the date and my near sexual abduction. As the details were bantered back and forth we made our way back into the sub-division when all of a sudden Tom's eyes went golf ball in size and he points out the front of the car and shouts, "RED LIGHT!!!". I don't think I've ever hit the brakes that hard in my life. The Tercel or whatever we were driving at the time didn't exactly have carbon fibre braking power of your typical Formula 1 or Nascar racer and we proceeded to skid right through the intersection from pretty much one stop line to the next.

I am happy to say though, that those were the only skid marks left behind from that night's collective near mis-adventures.

Dear Ann Coulter...

I haven't really read much of what Ann Coulter has written, but I have heard enough out of her mouth to know that she is a very odd and dare I say, troubled woman. I feel bad that she is actually regarded by some out there as a champion of some sort of cause. In the world of common sense where a lot of my friends and family live, we can't seem to understand that cause so I will not waste any grey matter attempting to do so. Henry Rollins, if it can be believed, is far more eloquent in his face slapping and gives Ann a pretty good one here in the video above. Enjoy.

Oh and if someone wants to bet her any amount of money that Canada did not send any troops to Vietnam, she'll take it because she thinks we did. Wow.

"I understand"... (I think)

Eve, this one was going to be my comment for your post... I was actually stringing a few thoughts together along the lines of understanding points of view and your piece was enough of an inspiration to get it out. The comment was a little lengthy so I let it grow legs and walk away on its own.

When we encounter a person with a problem, more often than not, we tend to look at their situation from our own point of view. The thing is, no one can really ever know what someone else is thinking or experiencing at that moment. We do this and apply our thoughts and patterns to their situations. When their words or actions seem to make no sense at all, we should realize that it just doesn't make any sense to us as we look at it from a 3'rd person's point of view.

We need to learn and accept that it all makes perfect sense to them at that point in time they find themselves in. Sometimes we try to put so much of ourselves out there we stretch ourselves too thin or overstep our limitations in perspective and accepted boundries. I have learned after removing my foot from my mouth (a continual practice) that sometimes what we feel like saying to make a situation better is actually the last thing we should say and definitely the last thing that the anguished want to hear.

"I understand"... First 2 bricks in the road to ruin paved with good intentions... They seem like a comfort that is most easily extended, but I can say after having many different combinations of tears, saliva, slamming fists, and other projectiles directed, intentionally or not, in my direction I can safely say they aren't. Unless you have been through exactly the same situation someone else is encountering, and even if you have, you should stay well clear of the 2 worded pratfall.

To avoid sounding preachy, I should say these are observations I have made over the last few years and have found the above to be mostly true but in no means are they scripture. (even then there would be debate)... If anything, saying nothing at all might be the best thing to do. There have been times when it was all going south for me and what has brought it level was just having someone there to be a sounding board to. (thanks S'Mat)

A little compassion can go a long way in helping to bridge the gap between the suffering and the able. We encounter scores of people during our daily travels and the slightest act of kindness or generosity can change the course of their day. We may not even notice what we've done or how it's affected someone else; It's worked for me. I learned that lesson a long time ago, but the scene from "ER" when Dr. Green is dying and he tells his daughter to always be generous really hit it home for me.

You're never really ever going to know exactly what someone else is going through, but if they are willing to share, take the time to listen or at the very least just accept what is going on. You may not feel like you've done much of anything, but as my friend Abdul found out, what you do or don't do can change someone for a lifetime.