A Short Hibernation
January 8, 2006:
Well, the hibernation for my Black 2003 Honda VTX 1800c was only a week long. Sometimes, I wish I could get a week's rest. Like last week, I knew the evening before that I would most likely be riding on Sunday to breakfast. I had hoped to send Reed and e-mail to see if he was going to be riding to Shapiro's, and if so, if he would pass by the house and we could ride together. The day before, Saturday, was Nina's Birthday, and between that, and working on the house, I wasn't able to remember to send that e-mail when I was sitting at a computer. I did spend sometime at the keyboard, updating the National Cruiser Club, USA Website with their merchandise offerings.
Nina was actually working on the morning of her birthday, and went to The Legend at Irvington for lunch with some of her Zoo co-workers. We went out to dinner with my parents, Nina's Sister's family, and my brother and his daughter. My brother's wife was tending to her mother, who had hip surgery that afternoon.
Dinner was at Carrabbas, a great Italian place. Again with the blatant plugs for things I like.
Sunday morning rolled around, and after last week's 31.5 Degrees, 34.5 felt darn near balmy. Yeah right, it was cold, but still tolerable. I drove west on Washington Street to downtown Indianapolis. The roads were not as busy as New Year's Day, and consequently the roads seemed a little wetter. I didn't hit any slick spots, but I was being a lot more careful about riding.
I arrived at Shapiro's, once again disappointed at the sight of no other motorcycles, and Reed's pick-up truck. I was able to pick a parking spot at the front of the row, and took off my gear, shut down the GPS and MP3 Player, and ventured across the street to enter Shapiro's. Three tables had been moved together, and were already nearly full of biker friends. I couldn't resist a little ribbing, so I had to ask if this table was the Whussy's Table. I marked a chair with my leather jacket, and got in line to order my breakfast.
Jim White was still in line, and paying for his breakfast. I had to ask where the Sabre was. He had ridden in a car with Carl Markovich. I decided to return to my old favorite, the Short Stack. As I mentioned, it may be short, but it is still big - sometimes sagging over the plate's edge!
After sitting down for only a few minutes, it became apparent that another table would have to be moved into place for more of Reed's Eaters. My short stack came in short order. It was taller than normal, each pancake was a little thicker today, but they were still the 10 to 12 inches in diameter. I started in. Jim's western omelet, his staple, and Carl's veggie omelet, his staple, came soon after. We each gave the server a dollar for her delivery.
There seems to be a lot of groups that meet at Shapiro's on Sunday Morning. Not only do we often see the same people, but the same groups of people. It is wired how the familiarity becomes a relationship. When someone is not a group, you feel compelled to ask where they are. There is a group that sits in the Northeast corner of the restaurant. It seems headed up by a white haired and bearded man. He gave us all some chili peppers once. It also seems that there are different people with him each week.
We didn't spend too much time talking about bikes, but did talk about credit cards, finances, and bad customer service. It is the first of the year, and every one is talking about taxes.
It was getting close to eleven o'clock, so the group broke up, and we each headed home. Fast Tony, the only other rider, and already left, in his usually rocket type fashion. I meandered home, and once again parked the bike. The weather forecast is hanging the temperatures in the 40's, so we will see how long it will be until I can get back into the saddle.
Well, the hibernation for my Black 2003 Honda VTX 1800c was only a week long. Sometimes, I wish I could get a week's rest. Like last week, I knew the evening before that I would most likely be riding on Sunday to breakfast. I had hoped to send Reed and e-mail to see if he was going to be riding to Shapiro's, and if so, if he would pass by the house and we could ride together. The day before, Saturday, was Nina's Birthday, and between that, and working on the house, I wasn't able to remember to send that e-mail when I was sitting at a computer. I did spend sometime at the keyboard, updating the National Cruiser Club, USA Website with their merchandise offerings.
Nina was actually working on the morning of her birthday, and went to The Legend at Irvington for lunch with some of her Zoo co-workers. We went out to dinner with my parents, Nina's Sister's family, and my brother and his daughter. My brother's wife was tending to her mother, who had hip surgery that afternoon.
Dinner was at Carrabbas, a great Italian place. Again with the blatant plugs for things I like.
Sunday morning rolled around, and after last week's 31.5 Degrees, 34.5 felt darn near balmy. Yeah right, it was cold, but still tolerable. I drove west on Washington Street to downtown Indianapolis. The roads were not as busy as New Year's Day, and consequently the roads seemed a little wetter. I didn't hit any slick spots, but I was being a lot more careful about riding.
I arrived at Shapiro's, once again disappointed at the sight of no other motorcycles, and Reed's pick-up truck. I was able to pick a parking spot at the front of the row, and took off my gear, shut down the GPS and MP3 Player, and ventured across the street to enter Shapiro's. Three tables had been moved together, and were already nearly full of biker friends. I couldn't resist a little ribbing, so I had to ask if this table was the Whussy's Table. I marked a chair with my leather jacket, and got in line to order my breakfast.
Jim White was still in line, and paying for his breakfast. I had to ask where the Sabre was. He had ridden in a car with Carl Markovich. I decided to return to my old favorite, the Short Stack. As I mentioned, it may be short, but it is still big - sometimes sagging over the plate's edge!
After sitting down for only a few minutes, it became apparent that another table would have to be moved into place for more of Reed's Eaters. My short stack came in short order. It was taller than normal, each pancake was a little thicker today, but they were still the 10 to 12 inches in diameter. I started in. Jim's western omelet, his staple, and Carl's veggie omelet, his staple, came soon after. We each gave the server a dollar for her delivery.
There seems to be a lot of groups that meet at Shapiro's on Sunday Morning. Not only do we often see the same people, but the same groups of people. It is wired how the familiarity becomes a relationship. When someone is not a group, you feel compelled to ask where they are. There is a group that sits in the Northeast corner of the restaurant. It seems headed up by a white haired and bearded man. He gave us all some chili peppers once. It also seems that there are different people with him each week.
We didn't spend too much time talking about bikes, but did talk about credit cards, finances, and bad customer service. It is the first of the year, and every one is talking about taxes.
It was getting close to eleven o'clock, so the group broke up, and we each headed home. Fast Tony, the only other rider, and already left, in his usually rocket type fashion. I meandered home, and once again parked the bike. The weather forecast is hanging the temperatures in the 40's, so we will see how long it will be until I can get back into the saddle.
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