follow the rules (pt. 3)

by the end of day 2, i was feeling really comfortable on the bike. my confidence, both in its mechanical soundness following deep repair and in its handling following my adjustments of the previous day, was very high. the sun rose warm and bright once more, temps in the low 60's by the end of the rider's meeting - outstanding.

geared up and ready, i hit the track fresh off the warmers in the first session of the day. i tagged onto the tailsection of a guy on a newer GSXR-750 (same model as mine, only likely 5 years fresher) that had dusted me late in day 2. seemed like he had a well-sorted bike, Akrapovic full exhaust emitting the sweet scent of race fuel. we both did half a lap or so at a quick pace, then hammered down. i silently vowed not to let him get away. he would pull me thru turn 2, a very fast 4th-gear left kink that should be taken very close to WOT, but which i couldn't convince myself to go into all-out. i would make up some ground into T3, another left taken at the top of fifth - right around 150mph. (don't ask me why i could go into one left rolling off the gas at 150, but not the other left rolling on the gas at 130...) i would close up on him just a bit more thru the slower T7-T8-T9-T10 right-left-right-left series, but around the apex of T11, he would get on the gas much, much sooner, pulling me thru 12 to the braking point for T13, where i would once again make ground. now, "they" say a trackday is not a race, and technically it's not, but any time you put two or more boys on motorcycles near each other on a track, it might as well be a race. he knew i was there, and he wasn't going to just move over & let me go ahead. but for what it's worth, i couldn't really pull a clean, safe pass on him anywhere, either.

we went the whole session - about ten fast laps - nose to tail like that. it was great fun! i really enjoy having a rabbit; a slightly faster rider can always show me my weak points & inspire me to push just a little harder than i normally would if i were just out there riding circles by myself. after the session, i went and introduced myself to the guy, and he had been having as much fun as me, so we made a point to go out the next session and do it again. i had immediately laid down some low 1:26's, matching my best of the day before, and i knew i could go just a bit faster.

next session, Lee was waiting for me at pit out. he motioned that i should lead, but i shook my head & indicated i would follow. we were not as quick to get on the track as we'd been in the first session, so there were a handful of bikes out ahead of us. we managed to reel them in fairly quickly, but getting past them became more difficult.

the thing about encountering just-marginally-slower traffic is that the disparity is often in a small amount of corner speed. most bikes in the 600-1000cc range will accelerate to terminal speed at pretty close to the same rate. on a short track such as Jennings, a larger-displacement bike doesn't really have the opportunity to out-accelerate a less-powerful bike before it's time to slow down for the next corner. coupled with the fact that most riders know how to whack the throttle open once the bike is straight up-and-down, very little passing can actually get done in the straights. that leaves the corners.

passing in the corners is usually done under braking on entry, sometimes midcorner if the slower rider is particularly off pace, but very rarely on corner exit. this is because a person running just slightly off-pace midcorner will absolutely ruin the drive of the trailing rider. in this gaggle of mid-pack experts, everybody was capable on the brakes. since it's just a trackday, nobody was really willing to "stuff" anybody else , especially going fast into T1 or T13 - the two best braking zones. so that left midcorner passes in the longer corners - my favorite spots were around the outside in the second part of T1, or outside going into T3 (at 150mph), just as the more timid riders would back off. i could occasionally work the inside of T7. it took several laps, however, to line up the passes, make them stick, and then work past the next guy. i'd say there were 4 or 5 riders to work past, and they were only running a second or two off our pace. by the time i got clear of the last rider, Lee had about 10 or 15 bikelengths on me, and he had clear track ahead of him. i had again vowed not to let him get away, so i put everything i had learned the first session to work. i really tried to hold the throttle open all the way through T2, and i consciously got on the throttle earlier and harder coming out of T11. i also used his weaknesses against him, going deeper into T3. my extra drive out of two meant i was hitting 6th gear before three, requiring me to work in an extra downshift just when things were happening incredibly quickly! i pushed and pushed, all the way around the track for several more laps, until i could see him coming back to me.

i had done it - i had reeled him back in by laying down a series of consistent laps, until finally i stuck to his rear wheel coming out of T11, thru T12, and was able to show him a wheel going into T13. i couldn't quite commit to the pass, and of course, the checkered flag came out as we crossed the line. we both did the next half-lap at full pace, but then eased off through the back section. dumping it on the checkered lap is nearly as embarassing as dumping it on the first lap.

i had been so focused on catching Lee up that i hadn't even looked at my lap times, so i checked them as i rolled into the pits. the timer will show the fastest lap of the session, and i was elated when it flashed up 1:24.76! i cannot begin to explain how stoked i was as i rolled in and parked the bike. i was nearly dancing - pumping my fist, grinning, telling anybody who would listen. it ain't the fastest anybody had ever gone around Jennings - hell, it's still more than ten seconds off the record lap. nonetheless, it was the fastest i had ever gone around that track, by a minimum of five seconds. and it was under my goal by a full second - i would have been happy to see anything in the 1:25's.

so there it was. i spent the rest of the day dialing in my reference points and dealing with traffic, never able to match or better that lap. first the track got warmer, then my shagged-ass takeoffs went off, and my third day straight started to wear me down. late in the day i strung a few mid-1:25's together, convincing me it wasn't just a fluke. i can't wait to head back down with some fresh black shoes & a little front suspension work (new valving & fresh oil). pretty sure i can break into :22's from there!

i skipped the last session of the day and rolled out in time to make the Bike Love party, representin' tha FL in shorts & sandals!

leave john mayer alone!

i heard the dj's talking on The Current (Minnesota Public Radio, of all things, which absolutely kicks ass - listen to them here - bookmark it) the other morning, and they were going on about somebody who had made all these horrible racist, misogynist statements in a recent interview. i didn't at first hear who they were talking about, but they sounded so earnest and so horrified that i opened up a Google window and typed in one of the phrases they had quoted, "jessica simpson is like sexual napalm," i think. it didn't take me long to find out that the blogosphere was simply about to have a conniption over none other than...what? John Mayer? you've got to be kidding me.

i know, i know. John Mayer is probably a douche. mostly because he's an insecure, geeky, bubble-gum proto-romantic pop guitarist who's rolling in both money and hoochie. he tapped Jennifer Aniston, for crying out loud - that's enough to make any heterosexual white guy over the age of 30 hate the dude. that and the tune from "Your Body is a Wonderland" is one of those that gets in your head & causes mental anguish while standing behind some large woman with bad hygeine at the grocery store.

john mayer did an interview in the March issue of Playboy magazine. i don't subscribe to the periodical, but i'll still read the articles if i find one laying around the bathroom at a machine shop, or stuffed in the bottom drawer of my mechanic's toolbox. Playboy chicks are still among the tastefully hottest nude centerfolds in a world of horribly tasteless and prolific pornography.

in this interview, which can be found in its entirety here, our boy says some pretty provocative things, some pretty sexual things, some pretty candid things. in reading the interview to determine what all the hype was about, i found it pretty damn refreshing that a star of this guy's magnitude pulled no punches, told no lies - he put it all out there, perhaps to his own detriment. or maybe not - he may have just wanted some more attention. i don't know, because i haven't talked to him.

but it was a Playboy interview! that alone might give a hint that provocative, sexual questions might be asked and answered. he did drop the "n" word, which i guess white people still aren't supposed to do. but he qualified that by pointing out the irony that a white guy can never really have a "hood pass," for that very reason.

and he did say he had a white supremacist dick, which is probably not a good thing to go into black and white, because the reader can't hear the subtext. but in reading the actual context, i got that it's an aspect of his id that he really doesn't like, that it baffles him and causes some amount of self-loathing.

which is why i guess i feel sorry for the guy. he may be a narcissist douchbag wannabe, but at some level i relate. alot.

i have lots & lots of friends - good friends, who give me way more than i feel like i ever give back. i am very smart & talented at nearly everything i put some work into (and more than a couple things i don't even have to try very hard, which creates other problems); yet i still feel incompetent - afraid y'all are gonna find out that i'm a no-talent hack one of these days, and i'll be abandoned. i've a host of insecurities that make me act out in crazy stupid ways and say hurtful things because i don't think i'm getting enough attention.

so anyway, it's my opinion that there's a couple things going on here: jealousy and white guilt. what else could possibly explain all the feigned shock over some of the things this 32-year-old unthreatening whitebread motherf'er said in a Playboy interview. especially in a world where very shocking, explicit pornographic images are three clicks away for your average five-year-old. white dudes are hating on him because he's living the dream - he's a rock star, just like in the Nickelback song, with the ability to make hot, popular chicks drop panties for some inexplicable reason. all the chicks that aren't hot or popular are similarly pissed off, because it ain't their bodies he's singing about.

and whenever some white guy starts pushing the boundaries of what's culturally acceptable to the black community, how quickly the rest of us white people are willing to sell that dumbass down the river. "oh my god! i can't believe he said that! that is absolutely unacceptable, and i don't find anything funny or justifiable about him saying he had a white supremacist dick*. i am horrified!" as if this one white guy had spoken for the rest of us. moreover, as if what he said had any credence.

(* this last is a direct quote from one of the Current's uptight dj's)

race relations in America will never advance so long as the "n-word" card can still be played. i love me some Mos Def, and on his 1999 release Black on Both Sides (arguably the best hip-hop album ever), a few of the lyrics of the song "Mr. Nigga" pretty much describe the loop we're stuck in:

Yo, the Abstract with the Mighty Mos Def
White folks got it muffled across beneath they breathe
"I didn't say it.."
But they'll say it out loud again
When they get with they close associates and friends
You know, sneak it in with they friends at the job
Happy hour at the bar while this song is in they car
And even if they've never said it, lips stay sealed
They actions reveal how their hearts really feel

so mr Def, who i admire and whose music (and acting) i really dig, has just put me in a very uncomfortable position. i'm boppin' along to his oh-so-very-fresh beats, rhyming along with these very insightful lyrics, and then he just whips out his nine and points it at my dome and says, "HEY! i know you didn't just say the n-word while you was singing along to this song i wrote called Mr. Nigga."

how the fuck am i supposed to reconcile that one? how does my heart really feel? 

how does John Mayer's heart feel? read the interview in context and entirety before expressing your socially-expected discomfort, America. leave the poor conflicted douche alone to play his guitar and feel conflicted. who really gives two shits about John Mayer anyway?