* You can catch our portion of the podcast, starting at roughly 1:09:25, or just grab a cold one, chill for a bit and listen to the whole thing. Then go back and check out some of Re-Cycle Garage's other stuff. It's worth it, these particular misfits have a pretty sweet groove.
Okay, so eight o'clock, day one. Seriously everybody, how straight up sexy is Liza's voice on that Motorcycles and Misfits Podcast? Be willing to bet that more than one lonely soul has fallen a little bit in love with it, while rolling down a rainy highway at night. Found her calling that one did, for certain and truly.
Huge thanks to the Re-Cycle Santa Cruz gang for being so chill and friendly-like. You made the whole Motorcycles and Misfits experience a lot of fun and the post-inquisition surprise game of Scooby Doo style wobblypops and rootbeer tag was a challenge worthy of our skills. hope everyone had a blast at the One Pro race flat trackery down in Salem! also, I have some disclaimers. This was my first verbal media interview. I wasn't really certain what a podcast was exactly and I was nervous as balls. I actually wasn't even sure whether or not I was on camera somehow until it was all over. Turns out that being interviewed in real time is indeed a whole new dynamic and I already knew damn well that being in front of a lens makes me a bit slower than the average bear, so have mercy on a man. I made a few boo-boos and I definitely indulged in a bit of deer-in-the-headlights stammering and rambling type-stuff from time to time, but for a first attempt I think it went pretty well.
Other than that, enjoy the interview! Naked Jim was a blast to shoot the shit with during and we got a chance to chat up Bex afterwards. Not only did she approve of my desire to invade Antarctica on two wheels, but she improved on my nefarious plan, and even offered to build the tires! Girl after our own hearts, that one is. BTW Candice wants to know the story behind Naked JiM's nakedness.
For anyone that's interested, here's a little bundle of background on how all of this wound up going down.
I am a bit of a weird little beastie that definitely goes bump in the night. I love my beautiful, amazing fiancee Candice, old motorcycles and critters. I am not a morning person, requiring coffee and a smoke to bump start. Which is a bit strange because I try to stick to decaf, as diesel can make me a tad exhausting and random to deal with for unfortunate and unsuspecting wayward muggles.
I also firmly believe that some words need sprucing up a bit, and that their original forms are more of a loose suggestion, kind of like motorcycles. All of this, along with a distinct lack of filter and more curiosity than give a damn can lead me to some odd places. I also quite like things this way.
Now, we'd had a bit of a slog to get down to Portland for The One Moto Show on Friday, so Saturday morning I was dragging ass pretty hard. Having hoovered down the in-room decaf offerings in our seriously badass hotel, The Inn @ Northrup Station, (go there, they rock) I threw on my Baja Hoodie and pinballed downstairs for a dart.
Don't judge, cigarettes have probably kept me from killing most of you at one point in time or another. You also most assuredly do not want me anywhere near the big red button before noon, or it'll be a short week for everyone. Anyways, After suckling on the smokey teat I gromped back into the lobby to check out what was on offer for breakfast. Bacon and java aside, I am not a breakfast sort, preferring a Bloody Mary around afternoonish, but Candice is all about that brisk crack of Hell stuff, so it was a quest for my baby. While I was ooh and aahing in the general direction of the waffle maker, I remembered the super-computer-and-flux-capacitor driven, deep-thought-required, coffee device next to the front desk that I had seen a few minutes before. Bazinga! I could grab us another couple of neon mugs of warm and wonderful before heading back to the room! It's good to be a hero.
So there I weebled, dry-humping the bejeezus out of this friggin' java monolith straight outta 2001: A Space Odyssey, desperately trying to get it to spit out some decaf. No love.
Utterly outmatched and in a weakened state, I somehow managed to persuade it to provide two cups of leaded go-juice. Fuck it. Could probably use the caffeine anyways. My honey would just have to smite me for the public good if I got out of hand. While I was about the brew-haw-ery, I heard a comment directed my way from the rear and turned around to see a naked pic of myself from one of last Summer's blog posts on our website. My friendly assailant had seen the logo on my back and apparently Googled the shit out of my innocent defenselessness. Definitely Not what I was expecting just then, but not a conversational opening gambit that one could just ignore either. Well played indeed.
And that's how I met Liza, who is one seriously cool lady and knows her old bike shit. She and her squad from Re-Cycle Santa Cruz were up to cover The One Moto Show and, while the Missus and I had headed to the local 100+ beertap Yardhouse for some reconstitutionals the night before after finally getting into town, Liza and the gang had made it down to the event. Which gave us a considerable yardage of near-and-dears to chat about.
We wound up gabbling away like two chickens on a fence, for what must've been an hour or so, as I sucked back both cups of caffeinated joy. * (BTW, Sorry again about that Honey, def missed out on those bf points) Eventually her hooligans appeared, and we shook paws all around. Great bunch of folk they were, pretty sure my imaginary tail must've been wagging by this point and Somewhere in there she asked if I'd mind interviewing with them for their Motorcycles and Misfits podcast later that afternoon. I said "why the hell not?" and trundled along about my bizness.
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