Noobies VÜ

It was a saddish Saturday this past weekend. I say saddish, because though I had been stressing out for a few days after I received the offer to purchase my drums (Honestly, I had put them on Craigslist assuming I wouldn't actually sell. I had simply assumed that by actually listing them I was making attempts at cleaning out the clutter of my house.) in the end it wasn't so bad. Beyond that stressing, once they were packed up and sent on their way, I felt only the slightest tug and sense of loss. It could be because I had dealt with it during the days prior, which I am wont to do. 

I didn't sell my drums because I no longer want to play, I sold them because I didn't really have a place to put them and I was self-conscious the few times I pounded on them. When I grew up in Beryl Jct our nearest neighbor was at least a 1/4 of a mile away, the only time I had to worry about disturbing or annoying people was when there was a meeting down at the firehouse at the end of our road. This happened very rarely and once I moved them into the basement, even rarer.

When I first started looking for a house the whole reason I wanted one with a basement was so I could have a room to set them up.

Now, I can remember growing up and listening to headbangers like Motley Crue and Whitesnake and Queensryche, etc. They all had these monster double-bass kits, so natch, I wanted one just like them. I had to have THE biggest kit I could afford. After high school graduation I placed my order. I can remember waiting for the kit to arrive as that every damn week I'd find out it was on back order. Man you think it's rough waiting for shit to be delivered now, imagine being a kid waiting on his dream kit. I was getting pissed! It was supposed to be in within 6 weeks of ordering. It wound up being closer to 6 months! Why didn't I just cancel the order? I contemplated it for about 10 seconds, my dad much longer than that, but I was driven; I wanted my dream kit! So I got my dream-kit but little did I know how much space that bad boy would actually take up, about 10' square. Tearing those suckers down and then putting them back up took at least 20 minutes both ways. There were days I thought I should just use part of it, maybe retire a bass drum and a couple toms, but I couldn't.

I played the hell out of that kit and I joined a few bands, though sadly, nothing ever took off. But they were still so awesome to have and pound on. I can recall some awesome parties in that basement and the jamming sessions we had. It was so cool. The only thing that could have been better would have been to have 10k people watching us. I played at the Washington County Fair a couple of times, but beyond that... nothing much.

After not having played them in at least 5 years, at least with any kind of regularity, and after my mother sold the house and I no longer had the place to store them, I was faced with trying to figure out what to do with them. Sadly, this was the best option.

I think what stressed me out was this was like a closing of a chapter of my life. I defined myself as a drummer for many years; I've literally played over half my life. And I loved it. Now I no longer have that. Well, hopefully if finances permit I can get a groovy electronic set and bang away to my heart's desire.  Until that time, I guess this is a eulogy of sorts. A eulogy of the teenage and early 20s me that still dreamed that anything was possible; that I could be up on stage in front of thousands, adored by other musicians and kids that responded to music, OUR music.

Reality is a frigid bitch.

So, it has been a while since I posted and it's been a pretty good couple of months. I am really excited as I finally replaced my motorcycle. I have been wanting to get a new one for some time now but I was somewhat reluctant to do so since I knew I'd wind up with a payment. Well, thanks to the new roomie (yeah, thanks a lot Jason) I made the leap.
Let's back up a smidge shall we?
Yes, I have a new roommate. I was reluctant to rent out the other room since Corey left but Jason was in need and I had the space so I decided what the hell. (As always you may click the images to embiggen)

Well within a week or so of him moving in he bought himself a brand new Harley-Davidson Fat Bob. NEAT bike!. But then the bastard had to go and let me take it for a spin around the block. Big mistake. No, I didn't crash. I fell in love.
THIS was the kind of bike I should have been riding this whole time. Much better ergos and sooo much more comfortable than my Z.


I had to do some thinking and decide what it was I like about Pandora and what I didn't. The list of likes was 2 items long: looks, acceleration.
The dislikes: ergos, squeeky noise, horrible seat (even after getting a $400 custom one), sketchy clutch (sometimes it engaged really hard- could have been operator error), vibrations, horrible seat, noisy, horrible seat. The list goes on. But it's mostly repeats of the horrible seat. I mean this thing was like a medieval torture device. I was constantly pushing myself back off the tank and trying to maintain an upright position. But within seconds of shoving myself back, I was having to shove back again. Try as I might I could not maintain my position on the bike. I have long legs and they were tucked under me when I rode, my arms would get tired from pushing myself back all the time and the general riding position. This was a "sport bike" not to be mistaken for a bullet bike. It had a similar look but the riding position was much more upright. It was kind of a hybrid of a bullet bike and a cruiser of sorts. But it's like they took the worst of both categories and mashed em together.
Don't get me wrong, for the most part I loved the bike. You know what, scratch that. I have pretty much disliked that bike from the get-go. I had hoped to use it to tour the area a bit. That was an epic fail. One ride to Zion and another to Beryl and I knew I would never ride it more than 50 miles.
So for years I have wanted to trade it for a cruiser. Chubs (Jason's Fat Bob) was the final straw. Riding that bike I knew I needed to try and get into something similar. Hopefully without the 5 figure price tag.
Success! I found a Yamaha Raider, took it for a ride and I was done.
Now when I found this bike it was at the Yamaha dealer here in town. I was looking for a Stryker originally.

After kicking around the dealer for 20-30 minutes, chatting with Jason and his boss, the sales kid finally made an appearance. At this point I had discovered the Raider and though I knew it was a more expensive bike I asked about it. Well, it turned out it was an '09 and I could get it for less than the '12 Stryker and it was 500cc's larger! I kept telling myself I didn't need a bike larger than 1400cc or so, but this bike was beautiful and totally fit into what I was wanting.


Nothing is worse (when talking about owning a bike) than buying a bike and then outgrowing it within the first year or so; wishing it had more power, would go faster on the highway, was a bit larger in size,etc. This bike had a lot of promise and I didn't think I'd have to worry too much about outgrowing it. There aren't a whole lot of bikes bigger. lol
I was ready to sign on the dotted line right then, but I wanted to go through my credit union. Silly I know, but that's what I do. I also knew I needed to get a decent trade on my bike. Everyone tries to low-ball when you trade, it's annoying. My bike was mostly mint, only a couple of surface scratches and far less than the allowed 18,000 miles for an '06 model. Try 6k.
Well, Jason and I went across the street to drop off some business cards for his boss and what do I find? ANOTHER Raider, this one had 1k miles on it (apparently it was a demo of sorts) and it was $4000 cheaper! This was kismet. I mean what are the chances?
So long story not quite as long, I bought the "used" bike. The kid at the other dealer wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I came in to pick up my deposit from the other bike. Really? You're gonna be bitter because I made a financial decision? punk.
Here's the thing though. The guys at Polaris/Victory were awesome. Got me into a great bike at a great price and have been hella supportive. But Jason got cookies. I mean it, he got cookies. A fabulous tin of Mrs. Fields. He also got a free (well with the cost of the bike anyway) membership to the Harley club.


I didn't get cookies. I didn't get a membership to a club. Sure, I know I am being petty (I checked out the club and I'm no longer too butt-chapped over that- Yamaha's club is kind of lame) but where I got a bike, Jason got a community. How cool is that? Granted I bought a used one from a non-Yamaha dealer so what can I expect. I just think it's pretty damn cool that he has gotten all these nifty perks for buying his bike.
I'm thinking a Harley may just have to be in my future. I mean, I want some damn cookies!