motorcycle machinations, computer catastrophes, and an admission

road to a scooter, part two:

Though I had no problem at all with the classroom portion of the motorcycle safety course, I knew I had a significant learning curve to navigate when it came to the on-bike portion of the course last Saturday. I donned helmet, gloves, boots and bandana in the wee hours on Saturday morning to jump on a seen-better-days motorbike and learn the basics on a wet and foggy school yard. For never having sat on a bike, I was pretty pleased with my fearlessness and ability to balance the bike on little swervy maneuvers...but I had an awful time executing the concept of clutch, shift and throttle. The clutch was sticky and difficult for me to "read". I killed the engine nearly every time I went to move from a stop -- quite embarrassing. My fellow students were all sympathetic, but as I was only one of two with zero experience, they all were clearly able to handle the rapid pace of the course. To my surprise, one guy was asked to leave the class around mid-morning for not handling the bike well on a cone-swerving exercise. Gulp. I knew I was on the chopping block when the instructor described the second-to-last exercise: alternating between 2nd and 3rd gear whilst going around an oval track. I couldn't, for the life of me, feel when I'd shifted from 2nd to 3rd if I'd been successful, and there's no gear indicator on the dash controls. So what would happen is I'd think I was in 3rd, then downshift, and being only in 2nd gear, I'd end up in neutral. I struggled for three laps before I was called in to the middle of the circle for a check-in with the instructor. I tried to explain what I was experiencing, but he simply advised me to be easier on the clutch and be more aggressive with the throttle and then told me to "Go Go Go!" again. I tried my best, but I knew when I was the last person called back in to the staging area that I was toast. And indeed, I was asked to leave the class, "but come back and re-do it when (I) have more experience." I left, a little humiliated, definitely tired, and with a sore left hand.

The more that I thought about the experience afterwards, the more frustrated I became. I have to say that I did have fun at moments that morning, getting up to speed, dodging little orange cones, but I wasn't pleased with the way the course handled me. Given that I was the rawest of beginners, it was frustrating to know that we had "blitzed" through that morning's exercises -- it was only 10:45 a.m. when I was asked to leave and they only had one more exercise to go, even though the class was scheduled to end at noon. I really could've used that extra time, and maybe I would've figured out how to use the clutch properly! Wouldn't it have been even better if an instructor had been able to pull me aside for a little extra help, given that this was my first clutch encounter after 16 years of driving? For $200, I'm not sure I got my money's worth.

Last night I called my insurance company to find out whether passing the course would make a big difference on my scooter insurance, and thankfully, it wouldn't. The GEICO gal was very funny, though, when I told her my tale about the course. She was so infuriated by my experience that she was going to report it to her supervisor as a cautionary tale. I guess I have some justification to be frustrated, and I will call the school to find out how to make the most of the experience, and the money I spent.

Unfortunately for my father, the experience did not deter me from owning and operating a scooter.

lab meltdown!
Yesterday my lab computer died. It wasn't pretty. I don't even want to think about what files might have passed away into the byte-night along with the hard drive.

Please, please, for the love of God, back up your computers, people.

credit where it's due
Please allow me to offer most sincere apologies for the omission of acknowledgement of Ms. Behonick's superior song-identification skills in a previous posting. Without her unique abilities, I'd spend many days frustrated by my inability to identify the pop culture-crap in my head.