“You Can’t Be A Beacon…”
As my newest Harley riding friends cranked up their steeds to depart, one had her sound system on, and blaring from the speakers was that old ballad I hadn’t heard in several decades… Warm, friendly waves were exchanged, and the smile on my face was maxed-out! We rode off in different directions… as I listened until they were beyond hearing…
“You can't be a beacon if your light don't shine
You can't be a beacon if your light don't shine
There's a little light in all of us by God's design
But you can't be a beacon if your light don't shine”
Looking back on it, I guess you might say it was one of those ‘combo’ days. A genuine ‘Diamond’ day overall, but with a lump of ‘Coal’ inserted in the first half… A day that had started off so well, that had a mixed blessing aspect slipped in, then it had finished with a wonderful flourish!
It had been remarkably cool all morning long up until then. That was such a relief, too, and I was thinking we must have turned a major corner and pulled right out of the recent doldrums.
The sky was nearly completely free of any clouds, the humidity was quite low, the traffic was light, and… for a change, all road surfaces had been nice and smooth! Even the road and bridge surfaces had uncharacteristically all matched up! Could this be the result of clean living and pure thoughts? Probably not...
We cruised into a sleepy little hamlet that seemed unusually familiar to this forgetful rider, but then I spotted a convenience/gas store I was certain we’d stopped at before… We had, it turned out.
We didn’t need fuel yet, but a fanny break and a layer-shedding event were in order, so… With nothing coming from either direction, I made an improper turn from the wrong lane onto the parking lot on the other side of the road.
Following the break, I picked up some additional snacks to have for that evening in the next motel. I’d checked the tire air pressure the day before, and the reading of the rear tire had been right at the level where I usually add air.
The air pump feature of my Geek ‘combo unit’ had stopped working some time ago, and I'd finally gotten around to ordering a replacement pump, but… No dice this time. Procrastination can be such a curse!
Off-handedly, I inquired of the store clerk if they had an air pump. “Yes, but the unit is out of order…" The unit was located around the corner on the side of the building next to the one stall drive-thru car wash.
"The pump part of the machine still works (the vacuum cleaner part didn’t), so you can still use it, but you’ll still have to push the start button. No charge!” Well, how do you like that, I asked myself as a smile broadened across the face of a very pleased Valk rider…
Our girl was moved into position and made ready. Just like the lady inside had said, the pump came on when the ‘Start’ button was depressed. I thought I’d added plenty of air, so it was then time to check to see if any ‘fine tuning’ was needed… WHAT?
The air pressure reading was actually lower than it had been when checked just before ‘adding’! I tried again to add more air… Even less air pressure when checked that third time! What's up with this, I wondered aloud?!
I examined the air hose and nozzle assembly. I’d thought I had felt some air escaping during operation, and a closer inspection revealed that to be the case… Air was escaping at the swivel connection where the air hose joins the nozzle assembly. Double Dang!!!
As I stood there deciding what to do next, a pair of Harleys pulled in close by. I asked the first rider if she had a pump with her. She thought she’d remembered to pack it… mercifully, she had! I tried to screw its hose to my valve stem… No soap! Cindy then tried, but she was also unsuccessful. Joanie then gave it a try… nothing doing!
Cindy (the aunt) tried to tape over the air leak in the store hose… that didn’t work either, and by now adding air was no longer an option. By this time, I was starting to melt into the pavement, so the trusty ‘nap chair’ was extracted from my stack of gear, and I collapsed into it.
We discussed options, and Joanie (the niece) mentioned she recalled passing a tire store just up the road. She volunteered to go check with them, while Cindy and I would go inside where it was nice and cool to take a long and much needed 'water beak' and breather…
Just as I was deciding I would probably survive after all, Joanie joined us at our table inside and proclaimed with a big ol' grin, “All set!” The folks at the tire store had a portable air compressor unit mounted on a pickup truck, and the guy had followed her back to our girl. The air pressure had been topped off to my desired level, and he’d even checked the front tire! WOW!
We went back out, had a photo taken, said our farewells, and gave hugs… then we were off on our original missions… A pair of angels had flown by that morning with their beacons shining brightly upon this tired ol’ heat-sensitive bag of bones… Funk? What funk?!
Joanie (niece), Bug Killer, Cindy (aunt)
DDT (12)
