A must-read blog for anyone who feels as though their shop projects have overwhelmed them. You ain't got nothin' on me...
The musings of a cantankerous over the hill greasemonkey who, though already old, is rather old for his age. I'll bust greasy knuckles out in the garage or argue politics with anyone who will stand for it....
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Had a beer with a chopper god (my universe... my gods....)
Ran into Ron Cupp ("Cuppy") at the Eagleson run today. I beg off the run. It is basically a bumper car parade of drunks. I waited until the pirates had left town and I snuck in and had a beer with a guy I wish everyone could have a chance to know. Ronny has built and forgotten more bikes than most of us will ever see. He posed for a picture with a rigid sporty he built for his wife a few years ago. He nearly died a couple years back and they are raffling the bike off to offset medical bills. You're the man, Cuppy!
This will be an attempt to chronicle my activity as a stove-up wannabe mechanic/machinist in rural Ohio that must feed his true passion for being in a dirty tshirt and jeans by putting on a starched shirt and tie by day to provide for my family and keep sufficient disposable funds available to feed my need for more old discarded junk to tinker with and otherwise clutter my day to day living.
This is no small thing, to restore a republic after it has fallen into corruption. I have studied history for years and I cannot recall it ever happening. It may be that our task is impossible. Yet, if we do not try then how will we know it can't be done? And if we do not try, it most certainly won't be done. The Founders' Republic, and the larger war for western civilization, will be lost.But I tell you this: We will not go gently into that bloody collectivist good night. Indeed, we will make with our defiance such a sound as ALL history from that day forward will be forced to note, even if they despise us in the writing of it.And when we are gone, the scattered, free survivors hiding in the ruins of our once-great republic will sing of our deeds in forbidden songs, tending the flickering flame of individual liberty until it bursts forth again, as it must, generations later. We will live forever, like the Spartans at Thermopylae, in sacred memory.-- Mike Vanderboegh, The Lessons of Mumbai:Death Cults, the "Socialism of Imbeciles" and Refusing to Submit, 1 December 2008