Back in the Stone Age I used to watch “The Dukes of Hazzard”. It was the dumbest show on earth but it was also a “guilty pleasure”. First of all, Daisy knew how to rock a pair of cutoffs. Second, every boy likes to see a Dodge Charger get pummeled by unwise driving. Finally, Roscoe P. Coltrane was pure comic genius. Let’s not forget the nearly inert “Flash the basset hound”!
Fast forward a million years. I got a few donations from my motorcycle story. I used them to order a new headlight. It’s a modern “super bright LED” that should vastly reduce load on the little alternator while making night driving a lot safer. Honey Badger earned it. I consider it a “safety upgrade”. I’ve been freaked out riding off road at night. The OEM headlight is anemic 1980’s technology; every change of surface becomes a gamble. Is that blurry washed out surface up there packed dirt where I can roll on the throttle? Or is it fluffy sand that might wash out the front tire? Knowledge I would have in full sun is elusive at night. So I scamper home at the first hint of twilight like a little bitch.
No more! The part arrived today. I’m going to install it shortly. Then… testing!
It went like this:
Mr. Curmudgeon: “My new motorcycle part arrived. I’m going camping.”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “I’m not sure how those things are related but have fun.”
Mr. Curmudgeon: “The Duke boys were out testing the new carburetor they installed this weekend when, wouldn’t ya’ know it, they passed Roscoe’s favorite speed trap…”
Mrs. Curmudgeon: “What?”
Mr. Curmudgeon: “Nothing. Gotta go! Bye!”
Update: I don’t care how dumb it was. It was innocent fun. No regrets!
