It was exactly 23 years ago this month that I graduated from High School. One of my graduation presents was a moped. I specifically asked for one because I was sick of driving my Chevy Chevette (The Red Radical Ramblin' Road Rat). That Chevette was, hands-down, the worst car that I have ever owned. A real piece of crap. But that is a topic for another day.I wanted a moped because I was going to be attending The University of Leinenkugels (Eau Claire) in the fall, and a vehicle like that was perfect for buzzing around the city. Parking at the University would be a cinch. And, the mighty moped got - get ready - 100 Miles Per Gallon. Yes, 100 MPG. So, I received a moped for graduation. I even have a picture of myself in my purple cap and gown on the thing.
Now, I know my description of the moped makes it sound rather euphoric. I must admit there were some "negatives" that came along with the moped. Here are a few:
1. The moped went no faster than 30 MPH. And, if you were going up a hill, that decreased to no faster than 4 MPH. This did not bode well with the vehicle, or vehicles, behind you. The horrible buzzing sound that the motor emitted was a little embarrassing too.
2. Owners of mopeds were not "welcomed into the two-wheel club" by their motorcycle brethren. In fact, most motorcyclists seemed to harbour some animosity towards the moped. If I had a dollar for every time somebody yelled "Hey, get a real motorcycle!" I would not be working at THE CHECK right now.
Speaking of getting yelled at, there was a lot of yelling happening in Eau Claire in the mid-80's. Some of the townsfolk seemed very concerned about other people's sexual orientation in the mid-80's. In mid-80's Eau Claire, a male was deemed as "gay" by the "open-minded" townsfolk if any of the following characteristics were met. And they would yell at you to let you know about this:
--Short hair. I am not making this up. We passed into some parallel universe in which it was manly for a male to have long flowing locks but short hair was feminine.
--Listening to "college music." In mid-80's Eau Claire, if a person listened to anything that was not metal, or a hair band, they were "gay." Once again, in the parallel universe, listening to long-haired men in make-up and spandex was considered masculine. I am not making this up.
--Wearing glasses. "Gay."
--Riding a moped. (See, I am trying to make a point here)
--Going to college.
Now, back in 1985, I fit all of these categories. You can imagine, then, the reaction that I received from some of the townsfolk when I was riding my moped to the university, with my short hair and glasses and R.E.M shirt on. It was the perfect storm! I was in constant danger. It's quite a wonder that I am happily married to a woman and have three lovely children today.
3. Wiping out on a moped. Very embarrassing. Luckily, this only happened a few times. I really didn't understand the concept of "loose gravel" back then. I was also lucky that I only wiped out on the loose gravel. I would not want to "collide" with any other vehicle with a moped. The moped will lose. Even against a piece of crap Chevy Chevette.
4. Roommates constantly borrowing the moped. You know who you are.
5. Let's face the facts. Anyone riding a moped looks like an idiot.
I finally couldn't take it anymore and I decided to sell the moped to my friend Al, who took it to Madison. I think. (Al?)
Anyway, the reason that I am bringing this up is that one of our vehicles today is a Chevy Suburban. The Suburban has a 40-gallon gas tank. Gas is about $4 a gallon. Here is that math:
40 x $4 = $160.00. To fill up the tank.
Now, the Suburban gets 10-15 MPG. That means if we take my daughter to her friends house in Minneapolis (10 miles away) it is a gallon there and a gallon back home. That is $8 to take my daughter to Minneapolis.
That is ridiculous! I am losing my mind! I am just about ready to buy another moped (which is the point of this post)! I don't care about 1 - 5 above. I still have short hair and glasses and listen to college music. Sometimes, I even look like an idiot. But think about how many times I could drive to THE CHECK on the moped at 100 MPG! I bet they make mopeds that go as fast as 35 MPH today! I read that there are scooters that reach 70 MPH, but I still don't trust the loose gravel.
What do you think? Should I buy another moped? You're going to want to borrow it. You know you will.
Jeff
20 comments:
OK. I must confess.
After my folks forbade me from ownership of a motorcycle while under their roof (it had something to do with stealing my Dad's motorcycle and taking it out to the north side to cruise the "forbidden fruit" on the other side of the tracks --- in 9th grade), my hand was forced. I gave in to temptation for the open road and purchased a used 1979 Yamahopper from a family friend.
Mine was red and adorned with a badass basket that hung from the front handlebars. Nothing said rebel like the hum of that engine wound out when the hopper was on the kickstand! It wasn’t until the day after I moved out from my parents’ place the day after graduation that I purchased my first motorcycle – a 1980 Honda CB450 with a clear Lexan fairing. Nice piece, back in the day!
In addition, I added a stint as a stuntman for basketball cheerleading to my resume my senior year just to show how much I thumbed my nose at the establishment and challenged the cultural morays of "straightness" by lifting girls above my head and cheering our guys on to a State Tournament bid in Madison in 1984. As a side note, that gal is married to 20-year NHL veteran Scott Mellanby and I can tell you without remorse that my time in the trenches was "well spent."
I came to a crossroads where the compelling facts of finances forced my hand a year ago. But this time, I found a way around the relatively impractical existence of the moped. While the basket is a particularly attractive option that is great for small trips to the grocery store for a six pack, the fact remains that the moped has no cache with the ladies… thus the need for a Harley! Some will say, “You’re going through a mid-life crisis and only need that piece of steel to justify your existence.”
But oh, contraire…
This thing gets 45 mpg, brings looks that keep my relatively low self-esteem in check and is significantly less expensive than the alternative to the standard mid-life crisis most guys have at the age of 40-something: like changing a 40 for 2 20’s and costing me half my stuff!
In fact, The Warden actually gets a huge rise out of the thing and I’ve found a certain renewed sense of “activity” in our social life that is part and parcel to a ride. Until you can show me a moped that will seat 2, do a hundred, get me some action, rumble your silver cavities loose and bring me the “street cred” I’m lookin’ for, I’ll stick with my Fatboy!
Gilby - that is good stuff. I needed a laugh before a day at THE CHECK. You, my freind, may have some Guest Blogging in your future.
First off - you took your dad's motorcylce to the dreaded North side in.....9th grade? That is renegade. The stuff of legends. (if my kids are reading this, don't get any ideas. That was a different era).
Second - my moped did not have a basket. But I could see how a basket would come in handy for the six pack. Not a bad idea.
Third - question on the Harley. How many months a year in WI can you ride that bad boy? Just curious. MN and WI seem to have 8 months of winter, 2 spring, 1 1/2 summer and two weeks of fall.
Good stuff Gilby!
ralph-I left my remorse as a male cheerleader in the rhinelander ER. Pool at Georges. a liter of southern comfort straight, 15 marlboro lights, and a 750 of liesel hubbards rum hidden in a resealable pepsi can sent me down the drain on Black Saturday. Talk about purple haze! Of course, your hand that met a wall in Dr Z's office the following monday morning put a nice red ribbon on the whole senior year cake. Good times, great oldies.
thomps-even rock hudson was married at one point. nuff said.
Excuse me tony8489? Rock Hudson? Today is my 14th Wedding Anniversary to What Jeff Thinks.
Maura
You may have an idea here. But one suggestion...don't call it a moped/scooter. That's too dumb. Get a Vespa or some some other machine with a cool sounding name. That would help a lot with your image problems.
Also if it makes you feel any better about your experiences in Eau Claire during the '80's, it's a common psychological tenet that people project a negative "other" to contain the fears they have within them selves. Thus teenage girls call other girls sluts because they have their own sexual urges. Boys call other guys gay or fags because they are uncertain by their own sexuality. Probably half the guys who were throwing out the gay epitaph are on their way to California right now to codify their homosexual union (not that there's anything wrong with that)
George:
I can still see the faces of Jefferson Dahl's Mom and Coach Nic's squeeze when you were laying there in the ER and they prodded, "have you boys been drinking?"
Do ya think?
Or look on April Schuldt's nemesis, Dr. Z., as he too questioned with such probative acumen... "Is that your cooler over there, Mr. Gilbertson?"
"You mean the one that says 'Gilby' on the side? Yup.”
“Tell us who else was involved, Mr. Gilbertson”
“Um… you figure it out” Blammo!
Thomps: Yes, 9th grade. Thus the permanente' grounding. Right down Hastings Way. Put on a helmet and act you've bee there before - Northside; we'd pick up the 'low-hanging fruit.'
A couple of months on the hog each year is really all you need to justify it's existence. Happy Anniversary, fella!
Jeff --
Just a reminder that it is a long uphill climb from your tony digs in Como to THE CHECK. Better leave yourself an extra 15 minutes to get there in the morning.
Brian
gilby-I swear I have tears in my eyes from laughing so hard on your take. coach nics squeeze!!!
You know, this reminds me of a joke we've told on occasion.
"Having sex with a big girl is like riding a moped. It's kind of fun until your friends catch you doing it."
Jeff
The yellow Moped was a fabulaous automobile...I have fond memories of you asking if we had any rubbing alcohol after one of your patented spills.
Gilby
North-side or "Chippewa-South "girls are o.k. Hell, I married one.
...Oh, and Gilby, I seem to recall you had the fat-boy out during the 2007 NFL draft festivities...is that why you didn't return to hang with Jeff and I?
Phil, that was a great joke. Been. there. done. that.
This might be the best back and forth banter that What Jeff Thinks has ever experienced.
By the way, I think the best line in any of these comments is when Gilby referred to North side gals as "low hanging fruit."
Jase - do not share that with Kari.
We should start a bloggers moped-riding gang.
Well, maybe not.....
Jeff
yes, Kari puts up with being referred to as a Chippewa-South girl, being the good sport that she is...low-hanging fruit might be another story.
I'm willing to give it a shot though.
I'll let you know how it turns out.
Well we all have an ogre or two in the past. It helps us appreciate the beautiful women who we all know can do better than us.
When you're in a pinch, hell yeah, low-hanging fruit is the easiest to pick. I married the hell out of her anyway!
Jase: Sorry I couldn't hang with you on the Purple Jesus Draft Day. When I'm on 2 wheels (with more than 49cc's) I have a strict code of conduct with myself to not drink...
Remember that 1980 Honda 450?
I once was returning home to 717 H2O after a night of indulgence on Grand Ave. and found myself at the stop light on Lake and 5th, waking up because I fell over on my bike while waiting for the light to turn (they do take quite a while to do so). Was the last time I rode blitzed. That'll wake a fella up in a hurry!
Ah the moped... I nearly froze my low-hanging fruit right off on that thing. I remember waking up one cold November morning at 6am because I had an appointment on the East side of Madison. This of course was no ordinary appointment, I had volunteered to be a human guinea pig, and why? For a few bucks, I was looking forward to drinking a bunch of non-FDA approved, barely tested cough medicine after which they would draw my blood and see if I could metabolize it or not. It never occurred to me that maybe I couldn't.
I hopped on the moped wearing a thin pair of gloves and a windbreaker. Not too good when the mercury was below freezing. The brakes squealed even more than usual with each stop. I must have woken up the entire east side. Only about a thousand cars passed me as I made my way.
When I arrived I was a human popscicle. My body was shivering uncontrollably. I walk in the door and the first thing they do is take my temperature. The two technicians read the thermometer and shrugged at each other, I assume they both couldn't believe the reading. They sat me down and stuck my arm with a needle, not just once but 3 or 4 times before they said "sorry, I don't think we can draw your blood because you are ice cold and we can't find any of your veins."
They actually made me wait for an hour before they could draw any blood. They did it, but I was still shivering.
There was a happy ending, they paid me my 50 bucks.
Not long after that I sold the moped and bought myself a bike.
Al - that is funny stuff. I couldn't remember if you brought that thing down to Madison with you or not.
You bring up a great point about that moped that I totally forgot about - Squeaking Brakes.
That bad boy had the loudest breaks imaginable. I remember trying to come to a slow stop at a light or something in an attempt to minimize the screech. It sounded like:
sssccccrreeeeEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCHHHH!
The ladies really dug that.
When I turned 15 my parents got me a moped to bridge that gap between learner's permit and actual driver's liscense. The first thing I did was start it up and drive it directly into the side of my dad's van. Left a big dent. Dad was pretty excited about me driving around on that thing.
A few weeks later while stopped at a red light a big ol' motorcycle pulled up next to me driven by a huge man complete with sleeveless jeanjacket and beard. He looked over at me on my tiny moped and said "It'll grow" and roared off into the distance.
Jeff,
You wrote, "It's quite a wonder that I am happily married to a woman and have three lovely children today." Is it really a "wonder" or is it an elaborate facade?
-Roger
Post a Comment