Three doofuses and an adventurer

The other day I was in the car (had to haul some things that were too big to carry on the bike), stopped at a light, when a couple helmetless, shirtless (=clueless) guys on crotch rockets pulled up behind me. They started pointing at the back of the car and gave me a big thumbs up, accompanied by brotherly-type grins. Then I remembered that I have a "Biker Friendly" sticker on the back of the car. I gave them a thumbs up back. Then the light changed, they zoomed around me, and were gone.

The other doofus is me. If you haven't read the preceding post, don't bother. Niceness doesn't mean competence, and I have been thoroughly chastized by everyone I know who know anything about motorcycles. These include Jack Riepe, who was surprisingly gentle with me, and Tom Cutter of the Rubber Chicken Racing Garage, who was extremely helpful. I'll never buy a cheap oil filter again, I promise! As penance, I won't even return the filters—I'll take their cost as tuition in a lesson that I almost paid more than ten times as much for. Apparently the folks selling the cheap filters didn't know that having an oil cooler (which my bike has) makes a difference in the choice of filter. I'll blame their Fram database. I'm sure if they had known, they wouldn't have sold me the filters. They're nice guys.

The picture on the right shows the right kit on the left, and the wrong kit on the right. (That sentence is a really good example of bad technical writing. If you want to see some good examples, go to my résumé site.)

Maybe I'll find some kids on crotch rockets to give the wrong filters to. Then their bikes might break down before they coat some road with their skin.

I'm also the adventurer, but I'll talk about that in more detail in another post. Two words: shuttle launch!