the reclaim tanks

I was just standing out front here drinking a beer and feeling the nice late summer time air while I huffed on a 555, and there was a guy on a motorcyle, the kind with the loud pipes. Not a harley, but a japanese version of the harley, you know the kind. The guy had a nice shiny black helmet, and the nice khaki pants to go with his black leather jacket. He was revving on his way up the street, and i thought to myself, "them's some loud pipes" and of course i remembered the whole 80's thing where everyone had a bumper sticker that said, "Loud Pipes Save Lives" like, as if to say... well. I won't get into it. They were loud pipes. So away he went up the street, then back around the block, and I guess for a victory tour, back down my street the other way revving up a bit (i guess to keep it from just stalling out?! na. i'm sure it was just to hear how loud them pipes are) and he's driving with his turn signal on, he's not turning, he's just not paying attention. I mean it happens. I'm sure all of us have felt like dumbasses when we look down and see that we've had the turn signal on for at least 20 minutes. It happens. That's fine. But this bit with the loud pipes, I feel like I'd be self conscious about them. I mean, when i come home at night, I fairly well tip-toe up the stairs in my building. When i'm in my apartment, I am conscious of the people on either side, even though I know they can't hear me. I don't stomp around from room to room, i'm quiet with the dishes, etc. I won't even take a shower really late at night because i'm aware of the sound it probably makes in the hallway of my building.

I'm sure that comes from being raised by complete assholes, who would punish me, or well, anyone really, for making any noise at all. I lived in one of those houses where you damned well better tip toe, and you sure as hell weren't going to be jumping on your bed, and the whole "clean your room or i'll clean it for you" was not an invitation to test out the maid service. Lately i've been thinking about that kind of stuff, the way I was raised verses the way it appears that a lot of other people were raised, and i think it's so strange that I should come out "the crazy" one. I've had plenty of opportunity to hear people tell me that I don't care what other people think, I do it my way, etc. etc. but really I do care what other people think. I was thinking this as the guy roared by on his bike, because he obviously doesn't care what other people think. It's not like he gives a shit if as he goes up and down the street he's setting off car alarms or scaring the shit out of people with the revs. For him that's the point. I imagine him at 2 or 3 in the morning roaring up 4th street, "BLAP BLAP BLAPBLAPBLAPBLAP!!!!!" on his little bike. Not much bigger than a glorified mountain bike really, but with more noise than just about any other car rolling through town over the course of the day, all of them combined I would say don't compare to this one motorcycle.

What's the point? Most times, if i'm out driving on the freeway, I don't necessarily hear the bike until it's right next to my window, and then they rev it up to let me know that they can rev it up, and my my listen how loud they are. "look at me!" their bikes fairly well shout.

I tell you. A stunt like that under the rule of Evelyn Connor would yield a good beating with whichever shoe or belt or yardstick or anything that happened to be handy. If there was nothing durable enough handy, she would use that item until it broke and then go get something more durable. HA! you wanna talk about loud. That woman was pretty loud when she was throwing a beating, and you didn't want to find your voice rising above hers.

As i turned to watch the bike rumble and roar it's way back down 4th street, something flew into my eye and started to burn there, could have been anything, but as i was thinking of how to get whatever it was out of my eye, I wondered how the biker was raised. Did he have those same kinds of rules? Did he have the parents that would beat the crap out of him for walking too heavily? Perhaps he needed a couple more good ol' fashioned beatings with his dad's shoe.

For most of my adult life, I've thought that you are just supposed to be as quiet as possible in your house, in someone else's house, or out on the street. I don't mean you can't be hootin' and hollerin when you're drunk off your ass with friends, or crank the tunes when you're having a party, I mean, when it's just you. Just you out there on the earth by yourself, walking or talking or heading off to somewhere. There's no need for the whole world to hear it. I thought that that was what being polite was all about. Considering the other guy. Put your trash in the trash, your recycling in the recycling. You're not the only person here on the earth mister connor. MANNERS.

As i've grown, i've come to see that i'm probably very wrong. As a guest at a friends house, the family would set to banging pans, and talking full volume in the room I was staying in, because that's just how they do. Cars pull up to pick people up at home and lay on the horn again and again instead of just getting out and knocking on the person's door. Motorcycles are louder than rockets trying to get out of the atmosphere. People stomp on stairs and from room to room. They slam doors for no apparent reason other than they don't seem to know any better. Cars go by in town with the stereos booming so loud that you really can't hear the music in your own headphones. We've even got a guy here who just does laps up and down 4th cranking 80's pop music at full bore with the windows down. Of course, he's wearing earplugs himself, but that's just his style I guess.

It's times like these that I feel like REALLY doing what I want. Not even trying to be mindful of what's polite, but just being the guy that people are like, "ol' danconnortown. He really does like to have the music so loud it's like a concert all day and all night, and god bless him, he's doing what he wants to do. You gotta love a guy like that. Doesn't give a shit what anybody thinks, he's living for HIM. He's not an inconsiderate asshole, he's just living his life like the rest of us. And dad-blast it, he sure has a good time!"

Of course I won't. My music will stay 8 clicks below where I want it. My doors and windows are closed 90% more often than I really want. I'll still close doors quietly, and walk softly. And I tell you, I know Rusty Brown would sound like a demon from hell with some glass packs and straightpipe coming off of some headers (if I had my druthers), but Rusty will stay muffled like any big block V8 ought to be. And I guess people don't really beat people with shoes anymore. That stuff's gone with the manners of yesterday.

Am I way off base to think I've been going about this whole thing all wrong? How did thathappen?!

happier than a pig in shit,

dTown | listening to Thin Lizard Dawn | 62˚ and simply beautiful