That crazy old guy on his bike

I just saw on Good Day, a story about what Clay Akin did while a guest host on Live with Regis and Kelly. They say Clay will not be invited back because he covered Kelly's mouth with his hand to shut her up. WAY TO GO CLAY!!! It is about time that someone made an effort to shut that woman up. I watched that show regularly before Kelly, but a few days of her mouth was all that I could stand, and I have not watched it since. In my opinion, Clay Akin did the network a great service.

Why I am who I am
I was just sitting here re-reading my previous post, and wondering why I turned out like I did; slightly crazy, and riding a home-built moped. It suddenly came to me, what was the real root cause of the way I went through life, and what I did with it.
I’m sure you have heard this before, but when I was a little kid, we were poor. Not starvation poor, but there was no money for extras. Like all kids, I wanted toys. Now that I think back to those days, I realize just how smart a man my Dad was. As there was no money for toys, he would make toys for me. But he was a smart man, and thought ahead. Maybe he heard the old saying, “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime”. Anyway, early-on, he started to teach me to build my own toys. My dad had always been the kind that could build or fix anything, and he taught me all he knew, and more importantly, gave me a thirst to learn even more than he could teach. I remember when I was ten, I was helping him build our house. By the time that house was finished, I knew that when the time came, I could build a house. Around that same time, he would take me to the salvage yard on a Saturday, and we would get several old junk radios. I would tinker with those radios until they worked perfectly, or even better I would combine parts from several, and come up with something better than I started with.
At thirteen, I drew up a set of plans, my Dad brought home some wood, and two weeks later we went fishing in our new boat. I even hand built a fine fly-rod, and tied all of our fishing flies. My Dad taught me to fix cars, and when I got a job, and bought a car at 15, it didn’t have to be a good car, because I could fix anything that went wrong. Of course, by eighteen, that car wasn’t good enough for me, as a typical teenager, I wanted a hot-rod. In those days there was no such thing as a factory hot-rod. You took the little six-cylinder motor out of your small, light-weight car, and replaced it with a big V8 from a big heavy luxury car. For the next six years, I had the fastest car in town. (Don’t tell the cops who that was).
After a stint in the Army, it was time for marriage, and kids, and not much time for toys. The natural career choice for me was auto mechanic. I put myself through college that way, and it was what I was happy doing. During those years, however, I did build three houses, six boats, two motorcycles, two more hot cars, and a divorce. But anytime I felt the need for a new toy, I would make it myself.
Now that I am old and hairless, I haven’t slowed down much. My radio controlled planes and boats are all my own design, and every bike I build is faster than the last. They say “the difference between men and boys is the price of their toys”, but if you are lucky enough to have someone teach you how to build your own toys, you will not only always have toys, you will always be busy, and never bored.
I may have to grow old, but you can’t make me grow up.

That crazy old guy on his bike

I retired from the local Ford dealership in 1997 after 40 years as an auto mechanic. I went to work as a computer consultant for the next five years, but in 2001 the "dot com" crash suddenly dumped 100,000 computer consultants on the job market, making it impossible to find a computer job, so that is when I went to work part time at the local convenience store, and went on Social Security.
I am not the type to be bored by retirement, as I always am building something, and have several projects in the works constantly. I work part time writing for the local paper, and after writing an article about a nearby golf course, I
tried golf in 2003 for the first time. This is all in addition to fixing computers for friends and neighbors since 1993. In fact, I find that I have less spare time now, than before retirement.
In the fall of 2005, when gas prices began climbing steadily, and reached $2.90 for the first time, I decided that it was time for a new project. After modifying weed-eater motors for several years to power radio controlled racing boats, (another hobby I failed to mention) I had several motors laying around, and decided to try to mate one with an 18 speed mountain bike (also laying around). after about two weeks of experimentation, it was time for the first road test. Had a few bugs, but after settling on an aluminum tooth-belt sprocket left over from the racing boats for the friction drive to the back tire, every thing was go. I immediately started riding the bike to work every day at the store. Of course I had to equip it with a good headlight and taillight for night riding since I work the late shift.
So far, I have built 6 powered bikes, sold one outright, "custom built" one where the customer supplied the bike (a West Coast Chopper) and motor, and am currently riding the forth one built. This bike is my special "Hot Rod". When I acquired a sweet 24 speed all aluminum bike, I knew it would be special. I soon acquired a high performance commercial weed-eater with a larger motor, and it was a match made in heaven. This creation will cruise at 35mph. and yes it does have a speedometer. I have been riding this one for over six months now, and it has over 400 miles on the speedo. I built a trailer for it, so I can carry cargo, or a passenger, but cannot convince my wife to go near it. And if I don’t have enough to occupy my time, when people found out that I could make a weed-eater run, now I have to fix all the weed-eaters and mowers in town. As I ride through town, (Blue Ridge Texas) everyone waves, but I imagine most of them are saying, "there goes that crazy old guy on his bike". But I don't care, I am having fun and getting 200 Miles per gallon.