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Date: Sat, 8 May 1999 20:40:41 -0800
To: Jim Cobb <cobber@ci*.co*>
From: "Kevin W. Juergensen" <heyydude@pi*.co*>
Subject: Re: Lake Jocassee Incident
Cc: techdiver@aquanaut.com
Jim Cobb Wrote:

>Kevin, you have not lost your touch my man... By the way, I bought my
>first stingray by trading my collection of prime matchbox cars for the
>POS, and the goddamn brakes didn't work on that one, either. Did have the
>seat and the "rollbar" however, hell that (and the cool handlebars) was
>what those bikes were all about.
>
> Jim
>


Jim,

I was a "Hot Wheels" man myself... (But that's another story).

I bought my first StingRay from a kid down the street for exactly $1.00 in
1963.  Dad took me to Western Auto so I could buy a shiny metallic gold
Banana Seat for it.  Later, I got the requisite "Slick" rear tire (remember
the tires with the flat profile, like the drag racers used?).  Those tires
made the thickest black mark on the sidewalk when you did a "Brody" to make
that screeching sound that would piss off the old ladies in the
neighborhood.

When I was a kid, "sissy bars" weren't cool yet (the bar that came up
behind the seat so that a passenger could hold on) - but as soon as "Easy
Rider" came out in '68, all us kids had to get the extended forks (like
Dennis Hoppers Harley) and Butterfly handlebars facing forward.

This made for a very cool looking ride, that was the absolute worst
handling bike in the world.

I later made the worst mistake of my life (probably comparable to buying a
bunch of square lights and butt-mount rigs) - I bought a Sears "Spyder-500"
with the proceeds of my paper-route money.  Talk about a TOTAL POS.  I had
pestered my parents to let me use my savings to buy that bike for so long
that after I finally got permission and bought it, then quickly realized
what a hunk of useless junk it was, it was too late.

There was no way I could take it back, or trade it, especially since it
took my Dad about 2 weeks of swearing in 7 different languages to figure
out how to put the damn thing together.  (Ever notice how the harder your
Dad had to work on something of yours, the more he expected you to enjoy it
and thank him daily for it - and he'd expect you to make it last, like, a
gazillion years?).

Anyway - one day this German kid moved in next door.  His name was Rolf.
This was a blessing in disguise.

He had a German mom, and a American step-dad, who would do just about
anything for him, since his German wife simply hated being transported to
this god-awful part of the earth known as San Pedro, where she was
surrounded by nothing but Slav and Italian Fishermen who all smelled like
garlic and onions (myself included, my mom's maiden name is Capretto, so I
only smell like the Garlic side of the family).

So this American step-dad had gone out and bought Rolf what was soon
becomming the coolest bike for 12-13 year olds - what we called "de-ra-lur"
(which was the phonetic spelling of "Deraileur" I believe, named for the
French 10 Speed Gears).

Rolf now had the coolest bike in the neighborhood, but because he was
German, and new to town, he didn't know it.

Being a 'Pedro Boy myself, Rolf was no match.  I began to work on him.
"That's not a very cool bike, dude - check out this righteous 'Spyder 500'".

"Yah, iss verry nice bike, Kalvin," he said.  "It's made by Sears too,
dude.  The best bike maker in the USA.  All the kids want one..."  I
smiled.

Eventually, after about 3 months, I got him to the point where he HAD TO
HAVE A SPYDER 500.  But even he knew that he couldn't con ANOTHER bike out
of his step-dad, so he started trying to talk ME into trading him, bike for
bike.

To make a long story short, I eventually made a deal with him, where he had
to give me his bike, plus $5 for my Spyder 500 POS.

After about 2 months, his mother left his step-father, and took Rolf, and
that POS Spyder 500 back to Germany, where, for all I know, he's still
riding it, feeling like a total asshole, and hating anyone he meets who is
from 'Pedro.

Anyway, that's my last bike story for the night...

Later,

Kevin.


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