So here's the story, sorry if its a little long:
a few years back, a great-uncle of mine (a bangshifty junk collector if there ever was one) takes me for a stroll during the family reunion.... to his barn. He pulls back a tarp...
and HOLY EFFIN' EFF, under the tarp was a 1944 Indian Scout. With about an inch of dust and grime.
Says he hurt his back climbing off it after a long ride back in ohhh... 1975. Hasn't ridden it since.
And then the poor ole guy passed away last summer...
RIP, Buzzy. You were one of a kind...
But the story doesn't end there...
So his widow, my Great-aunt, hasn't ventured out to the barn since....
And I've been having dreams/nightmares of going down there, offering her a fair price, and loading it up.
Found out last weekend that someone else did just THAT.
Apparently, with some ether, a new plug, and a few kicks, IT FIRED RIGHT UP.
exactly.... HOLY EFFIN' EFF. :o :o :o
And the story goes that when it fired up, it was shooting acorns out the exhaust all over the place. NICE!
Part of me is pissed that I didn't get off my ass and get down there, part of me is pissed that I didn't have the money, part of me is pissed that I didn't offer to mow her lawn for a year for it, part of me is pissed that I didn't make time to do any of that (school, job, bills, excuses... yada, yada)...
But part of me is happy that it's no longer rotting in the barn, and it at least went to a good home, where somebody truly appreciates it.
I know I do.
a few years back, a great-uncle of mine (a bangshifty junk collector if there ever was one) takes me for a stroll during the family reunion.... to his barn. He pulls back a tarp...
and HOLY EFFIN' EFF, under the tarp was a 1944 Indian Scout. With about an inch of dust and grime.
Says he hurt his back climbing off it after a long ride back in ohhh... 1975. Hasn't ridden it since.
And then the poor ole guy passed away last summer...
RIP, Buzzy. You were one of a kind...
But the story doesn't end there...
So his widow, my Great-aunt, hasn't ventured out to the barn since....
And I've been having dreams/nightmares of going down there, offering her a fair price, and loading it up.
Found out last weekend that someone else did just THAT.
Apparently, with some ether, a new plug, and a few kicks, IT FIRED RIGHT UP.
exactly.... HOLY EFFIN' EFF. :o :o :o
And the story goes that when it fired up, it was shooting acorns out the exhaust all over the place. NICE!
Part of me is pissed that I didn't get off my ass and get down there, part of me is pissed that I didn't have the money, part of me is pissed that I didn't offer to mow her lawn for a year for it, part of me is pissed that I didn't make time to do any of that (school, job, bills, excuses... yada, yada)...
But part of me is happy that it's no longer rotting in the barn, and it at least went to a good home, where somebody truly appreciates it.
I know I do.
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