No Bikes Allowed

Norm

Norm

Wizard
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I noticed this sign as I left Dunkin' Donuts:

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Professor Fizz: What do they mean "no bikes?"
Norm: They're not talking about you.

Professor: The scooter?
Norm: No, not him either.

Professor: Well who are they talking about?
Norm: Bicycles.

Professor: Well why don't they say bicycles?
Norm: Because they're idiots.

Professor: Then you shouldn't patronize their shops!
Norm: Good point. (*sigh* I miss Mr. Fizz) (Mr. Fizz, my trusty but not so bright FZ6 who appeared on the FZ6 forum)
 
Norm said:
Professor: Then you shouldn't patronize their shops!
Norm: Good point. (*sigh* I miss Mr. Fizz) (Mr. Fizz, my trusty but not so bright FZ6 who appeared on the FZ6 forum)
Click to expand...


Norm.....why is it that you miss Mr. Fizz? Doesn't the Professor provide you with similar features and more....?

(or is it b/c he is taking you to school for everything you are doing/planning to do in terms of upgrades??)

Adam
 
BroHay said:
Norm.....why is it that you miss Mr. Fizz? Doesn't the Professor provide you with similar features and more....?

(or is it b/c he is taking you to school for everything you are doing/planning to do in terms of upgrades??)

Adam
Click to expand...


On the FZ6 forums I had a bunch of these "conversations" with Mr. Fizz (don't worry, I realize Mr. Fizz can't really talk-just taking artistic liberties is all) and I portrayed him as a fairly smartass but fun loving kid. Professor Fizz (the FZ1) just seems like a more mature bike, cerebral if you will. Everything about the bike is a little more sophisticated after all, when comparing it to the FZ6. With this serious minded bike then I was musing about the more light hearted conversations with the FZ6.
 
Like this for example (part of a longer story):

Excited, I grab my Speedpass, stuff it in my jacket, and board The Fizz. Brilliant planner that I am, I put it in the left pocket, where I can grab it easily and still keep my right hand on the throttle. As I approach the toll:

Norm: Where is that thing?
Fizz: What thing?

Norm: The speed pass. We need it to get through the toll.
Fizz: Don’t look at me.

Norm: Ah, here it is! OOmphhh. It won’t come out.
Fizz: Use The Force Luke!

Norm: What? The Force? You’re not helping.
Fizz: Eh, Norm, we’re down to 30 MPH. How about a downshift?

Norm: C_A_N’_T G_E_T I_T O_U_T…
Fizz: Downshift Norm. Dowwwnnnshhhhhfffftttttttt!

Norm: Hey why do I have to do everything?
Fizz: You? I’m carrying your sorry behind, the least you could do is DOWNSHIFT!

Norm: M_U_S_T G_E_T I_T O_U_T…
Fizz: Lugging, lugging, lugging…cough, cough, mmmuuust dowwwnnnnshhhhifffftttttt…I’m dyyyyyyinnnnggggg.

Norm: Oh for Chrise sake. (Norm downshifts a few gears)
Fizz: I’m alive! I’m alive!

Norm: (He puts up the visor and looks down to see the Velcro is grabbing the corner of the speedpass-twists and jerks it free) AHHHH, just had to use some force!
Fizz: I told you that!

Norm: You said use The…oh forget about it (holds out pass until green light, then stuffs it back in the pocket).
Fizz: Uh Norm…it’s time to accelerate.

Norm: Will you wait a friggin’ minute? I’m trying to get the thing back in my pocket.
Fizz: Walk AND chew gum much?

Norm: It’s not as easy as you think…I’ve also got to worry about the clutch, throttle, gear…
Fizz: Well, let’s see. I can ride, run my lights, blink, beep, steer, all at the same time.

Norm: Yea well who’s responsible for getting us through the tolls?
Fizz: Apparently neither of us. W_E’_R_E G_O_I_N_G T_O_O S_L_O_W N_O_R_M…SHIFT UPPPPPPPPPP PLLLLLEASSSSe

Norm: Awright, awright…(shifts up, up, up…)
Fizz: I’m alive! I’m alive!
 
Well there's this one:

I feel like a bear hibernating. All except that I am awake, left to experience the long and lonely hours from inside the house having been robbed of 4 months of blissful sleep. During my winter incarceration I long to ride the Fizz. I visit him often but he, it seems, is in full hibernation mode. He looks peaceful, happy even, dreaming I'm sure, of long rides through the New hampshire back roads. Places we've been too. Places we haven't. This long respite is not good for me. Somehow, I have become a Petri Dish that cultures bad motorcycle stories. People tell me bad stories. I read bad stories. Things are happening round me that auger bad for motorcycles. Like the accident my wife and son were in. If that was me on the Fizz, well, I'm trying not to think of that for now; "trying" being the operative word.

So as it would happen I am lying in bed last night but can't fall asleep. Nearly 6 weeks of no riding has taken its toll as all the negatives surface and not a single little ride to remind me why I engage what Consumer Reports tells me is a vehicle that I am 37 times more likely to die in an accident. And suddenly a thought enters my mind. It's a new thought. A new wicked thought! It's Friday night. No work tomorrow. What if? Those two dangerous words. What if I wake the Fizz and take him to the highway. Route 95 is only 5 miles away. The road there looked OK today. I'll go super slow till I get to the highway. Then...Well then I'm off! Free! The wind blowing us both. The brisk night air taunting us to go home and sleep, but me and the Fizz will be laughing. We'll be happy. We'll remember why we ride.

So I get dressed quietly and head for the garage. Putting on layer after layer is laborious and I already have begun to contemplate the absurdity of my midnight ride. But ride I do. Having been on the tender, Mr. Fizz wakes in an instant.

Mr. Fizz: Is it spring already?
Norm: No, my friend. But I must ride. You understand, don't you?
Mr. Fizz: Hop on!

And off we go. There are more ice spots and sand traps than I remember but I go slowly and the Fizz never loses his grip. I'm already exhilarated. I can't believe how great I feel. Norm you're a genius, old chap. We hit the on ramp and 95 is quiet. Too quiet really. I don't see one single car in either direction. I bring our speed ever higher as my confidence gains on this cold winter night. I can't feel the cold at all. I just feel happy.

Soon I see lights in the distance. They are massive lights and they are lighting a massive area, a city maybe. But as I get closer I don't see buildings, or cars, or houses. All I see is what looks like the biggest runway I have ever seen. And there are no planes on it. No people, no vehicles. It exists, it seems, for me. It is a the biggest playground for the biggest kid. Hugely wide and never ending it seems and the next exit should put me right next to it, if not on it. Off the exit I go and Lo and behold I am on the runway. The stadium lights have this so lit up it feels like daytime. A weird daytime no doubt.

I cannot believe my fortunes. There are no guards, no blockades, and the exit put me here so even if someone of the Leo persuasion were to stop me what could they say? "Who told you you could take that exit ramp." Ha! So off I go down the runway. It is long and bright. It is heaven. The fact that I continue to see no one emboldens me and I pick up speed until the Fizz reads 100 MPH! The road is never ending. Where does it go? Why have I not seen this before? WHo cares, just ride Norm, ride the Fizz coaxes. Now, ahead I begin to see the road veers off to the right. I slow a little, tentatively, gauging the arc. A nice wide turn I see so I hold at 90 MPH. I lean a little. I'm worried about snow and ice and sand. But there is none. This road is clean and the Fizz grips. The turn becomes a little sharper and I lean some more. Sharper still. Lean some more.

Suddenly the turn arcs so sharp I am in danger of going off the road. The sides of the runway had been snowed over what I presumed was a field but without me realizing it, the sides were now huge stone walls with jagged edges. I had already let go of the throttle and was using some back break. I did not want to use the front break for fear of standing us up. Now I was dangerously close to this wall of death.

Norm: Can we go lower?
Mr. Fizz: We're out of options Norm. Bring us down!

I push with my right hand and sport bike style pull with my left and bring my right knee within an inch of the ground. I long ago realized this ship is going down and am planning my slide. The Fizz is a goner.

Norm: It's been nice knowing you pal.
Mr. Fizz: What are you talking about? We're doing fine.
Norm: We are? YES, WE ARE!

My most daring move yet and we're going to make it. The wall begins to move away and we slow to a stop and just as I hear the Fizz scream:

AGAIN; LET'S DO IT AGAIN!

I bolt upright in my bed! My heart is pounding and my forehead is sweaty!
It was a dream! Wow, a dream! But it felt real. It felt like I rode. I walked downstairs to check on the Fizz. Fast asleep. I smiled. I had my ride, my fix, and my vitamin with a dream. And I remembered! I remembered why I ride. I remembered what one of my good biking buddies told me the last time I doubted: The turtle can make no progress if he does not stick his head out.


I really did have this dream!
 
well, I for one am waiting for when the temperature cool down some -- this close the the century mark riding in full gear, sometimes has me smelling like a Yeti....

....the other day, put my helmet on and smelled like an old gym sock -- since washed, but didn't know why it took me soo long to realize it....maybe it was because I took an extra second in the normal routine before throwing a leg over and taking off....

So I lack the lyrical prose and conversations of Norm....but I'll try harder NEXT time...forever procrastinator I am.....just look at my attempts as of late (still waiting to do the jet kit and such)

Adam
 
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