Bug Bit!

AFTER several months of tap dancing around it, the bug finally bit.  Hadn't been feeling well Grey Cup weekend, you know... where Toronto played some team posing as the Stampeders.  Last weekend I finally succumbed and went down like the proverbial "sack of potatos" appropriate as it was for living on Spud Island.

Most of my week has been spent horizontal, low on energy, aching and dizzier than I have been since being a kid on a merry go round!  Remember those days?  You hang onto the bars and get your 'best friend' or the big bully kid to push it round and round faster and faster... till you tossed your cookies. 

Kinda like a Nasa centrifuge!

I'll spare you the gruesome details but suffice to say, it ain't been fun.

Went to see that 955 Triumph early last week, before this thing really caught up with me.  Not bad, needs some bits, related to a misjudged wheelie apparently, new tire etc.  I'm considering it.  Don't have a sports touring type bike at the moment, since selling my Seca II.  Maybe I don't need one.  Yeah right, "Oh come on Frank... you know you want it."  Says the little voice in my head...

Cats have adapted remarkably well, weather has been cooler but once again, a very sunny morning, but minus 11, Yikes!  Storm doors are up. 

Still have some things to deal with before I can work on the garage over the winter, hopefully our little part of the planet will heat up some.

My name is Bond...

James Bond.

Okay I don't do movie reviews, but I can say the first of the latest series, and the following, were lackluster, plot poor, derived of serious villains and sleepers but not in the normal sense of the word.  I mean real ho hummers!

I almost gave up* the franchise...

In fact they were so bad, I sat down one day and wrote a review that was echoed by hundreds/thousands of fans world wide.

Went to see Skyfall last night with my sweetie.  Memorable night for several reasons.  Numero uno... it's our first actual "date" since arriving on the Island.  Got Anna into bed real early, and drove like a madman (almost Bond like) into Summerside to arrive for the 9pm showing.  Having purchased tickets earlier, we didn't need stand in line (although to be truthful, there was little waiting) and found good seats up high and center in a very nice theater.  Sure sure, its not the 28 screen variety close by me in at AMC in Glendale, nor even the 12 screen in Crowfoot, Calgary.

I won't go into details as some of you haven't seen the flick yet, but I will say this.  Opening with a stunning rooftop Istanbul motorcycle chase scene, had me gripping the imaginary bars and twisting my wrist!

Exotic location filming, beautiful women, enough explosions to do a July fourth day proud, and almost anti Bond yet clearly old style Bond in its villains and chases and the surprise appearance of the ASTON Martin that if not the actual car, one like it.  Wonder what Connery thinks of that.  Craigs performance reedemed his earlier efforts and in some of the other films I've seen him in, it was obvious, the guy is a pretty decent actor.

If you are a Bond guy/gal or an action fan, its worth a see.

*doubtful I'd ever do that :)

New Addition Two

NO... I have no idea how these things happen.  To me it's like the Big Bang Theory, how the Universe began.  I don't question that, nor do I spend lots of time thinking about "The Meaning of Life".  Likewise I'm not wasting brain cells on this either.

WHAT I do know is thus;  after my long time buddy Einstein passed away in March, 2010...I took in a little kitten maybe 4-5 months old during Christmas that year, at my home in Phoenix AZ.  He (Phoenix) traveled home with me early in '11.  Brenda's Willy came to live with us later that year, and after she died April 12th of this year, it was back to a one cat family.

LITTLE Phx and I made the X Canada drive almost two months ago now.  He seemed to have adjusted from being an outdoor cat to the indoor variety.

Just this last week,  we sourced out Abby to come live with us and days ago we brought home another Willy.

HE'S about 18 months, male, fixed and came from the Humane Society.  The instant he spotted us, he was up on my shoulders and purred constantly.  After surviving the "ANNA" test, we brought him home last Thursday.

                                        

SINCE... he's made friends with Phx, has worked his charm on Abby (although she hasn't quite warmed to this rambunctious little male) and certainly spiced up our digs with his antics.

SO... like the mysteries of outer space, such are the mysteries of jumping at light speed from one furry feline to three in a week.

New Addition One!

Okay... I make no apologies for it... I am a died in the wool, Nthusiastic, crazy cat boy!

I've had cats my whole life, beginning with Smokey the stray I'd adopted who much like the Disney trio, completed an 'Incredible Journey ' of his own to find me once we'd moved.  Smokey lasted until I turned 18.

Since those early days, I've had many dozens of felines of every description and temperament.

Princess Abby

When Einstein, my longest lived and absolute best buddy died March 31 2010, I thought it would be quite a while before I ventured into the cat kingdom again. 

Einstein, by best pal!

Took about 8 months when that cute little kitty showed up in Brenda and Anna's arms while we were Christmasing in Phoenix, 2010.  I fought the urge but it was really quite hopeless.  Those tiny little 'meows' him looking in from his box I'd made from an RCA sound system, through the looking glass into my living room, patrolling the perimeter of the yard from the stockade or high up in the Acacia tree. 

Phoenix, helping Dad at the keyboard

He rode home to Calgary with me in the Chevy and after living in Silver Springs for a year, all the way east in the Ford.

Now that we are somewhat settled in our new digs in Spring Valley (hmmm Silver Springs, Spring Valley) somehow or other we have very quickly aquired a new addition to our home.

Anna and Abby

Abby is a 6yo ish female came home with us last Tuesday.  We found her on Kijiji PEI in Stratford (near my old shop) living with Tammy comfortably in a very nice home.  Circumstances sometimes being what they are, they were looking for a new home.  We know how hard it can be for an older mature cat to be adopted, kittens, cute and popular as they are, have an adoption shelf life of barely 8-9 months.  Once we'd met with the duo, we decided on the spot that we could give Abby a good home.  She's still getting used to the new surroundings, not easy for cats like humans to accept big changes, but is doing remarkably well.

Her and Phoenix, although he's been tentative, at least have confined their disagreements to gentle hissing, but no fur flying fisticuffs.  I think they will adapt in a few weeks. 

And So... the cat sage continues...

Its Alive!

CAFE RACING originated in the early sixties, primarily from Southern England.  As a young lad, I read everything I could get my hands on related to Rock and Roll.  Some of the greatest R&R bands in history were born in them days.



The Beatles, the Stones, Yardbirds, the Who... for a kid feeling somewhat out of step as I was, the rebellious nature of the rockers of the day, found company.  Too young to ride a motorcycle when Kennedy was shot, it wasn't until years later that I had my very first bike, but not too young to appreciate that there were rebels out there I could relate to.  Seeing scenes on b&w T.V. of the Brighton pier clashes between Mods and Rockers, I shadow boxed in my basement, pretending I was there.  Hurling rocks at bobbies and kicking scooter riding, feminine Mod butts!

Yeah... I know it was all a game to me, after all... I was growing up in Edmonton, not east London, it was my parent's basement, I didn't own either a motorbike or scooter and I hadn't a clue that people were cut, hurt , bleeding or landing in jail.

That whole subculture spawned the cafe racer of the day.  Dressed in all black leather, greasy riders raced from one cafe to another on BSA's, Norton's, Triumph's, AJS's or sometimes a concotion of hybrids.  Norvin's, Triton's, Tribsa's. 

The goal was to do the "Ton."

Bikes resembled the racers of the day, popular on British short circuits and the Isle of Man.  Flat bars or clip ons, megaphone exhausts, rear set pegs, solo seats and racing tires were the choice of those riders.  Being a skilled rider was sometimes second to being seen as a "skilled rider" while sitting sipping a cafe at some roadside table.

Even today, you'll see bikers and scooters parking on sidewalks all over Europe and to some extent, right here at home.

Dashing through the English countryside, hitting or bypassing the Ton, then pulling up at the ACE cafe or similar joint to jostle, brag or just sit sipping a cafe while downing a bag of fish and chips.  It was a male dominated sport, women strictly pillion in those days. 














Times have changed, today you're just as likely to see a woman in multi colored leathers tucked on the latest CBR/ZX/FZR/GSXR/SS, flashing along some back road well over the fabled ton, with an ease that those Rockers couldn't even imagine back in the day.  Parked right next to a modern sport (cafe racer) bike, will be a gaggle of scooters with nary a fight breaking out amongst them. 

Like many things over my lifetime, cafer racing has morfed into something a lot more mellow, if not sedate.



When I was doing my "Magical History Tours" 15-20 years ago, sometimes in threes, sometimes dozens, we'd tackle the back roads, riding well over the limit, testing not only the tires and frames, but ourselves.  Inevitably someone would go down in the dust and if lucky, to nothing more than a broken signal light or scraped fairing.  If not... it would be a tow truck and maybe an ambulance ride into the nearest town!

Sometimes you can take the boy outa the racer... but not the racer out of the boy!