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Bummer's Monthly Musings

Bummer, who's an ABATE institution, writes one of the most widely read articles in the Outspokin' each month. Now he's also right here on the web! Welcome to the Computer Age, Bummer! ~ Enjoy!

 

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Shootin’ the Breeze 

by Bummer

Email: bummer@abate.com

I am writing this after just receiving an Email from an outraged female who took exception to a column I wrote for the October issue of this magazine. Every year for the past 5 or 6 years I’ve written a Halloween story. This year I neglected to mention that it was just a story. I am not only saddened by her assault on my abilities as a responsible journalist [joke], but also surprised that anyone could have possibly gotten so upset over a harmless Halloween ditty about a gang of vampire bikers! [serious]. So, to you my readers statewide and beyond I’d like to state that 1.It was a fiction written in the spirit of the season. 2.I’m just an old fat guy from Newton Falls, Ohio and not a member of a band of blood drinking, flesh eating, vampire bikers, and 3.As I’ve stated before on numerous occasions, though most events are genuine, my column is written for entertainment only and not intended to offend. I’m like the funny page....Harmless fluff in a world of trouble, confusion, pain and agony. [joke].

I think the person in question kinda over-reacted when she threatened to quit ABATE if I didn’t apologize, but being the avid ABATE supporter that I am.....I apologize! OK? Now get over it.

A person joins an organization like this and becomes active, [or simply maintains membership] to help do something about keeping and expanding our rights as motorcyclists, to stay informed of the latest developments concerning our lifestyle, and to support and enhance any efforts making those interests safer and more widely known to the non-motorcycling community.

One should not join ABATE because you like to read my column, because the state patch matches your genuine biker jacket or because you think it looks cool to ride with a pack. We are a serious, effective, viable influence on what happens with your rights as a motorcyclist, and your best hope against government repression. And if you think I’m full of it, take a look at what happens to other states who don’t have our political know-how.

Also one shouldn’t even consider quitting simply because one doesn’t like what he or she reads in the magazine, what any individual officer has to say, or something even more absurd like what bands play at our state party.

Regarding my column, if ever you even think you are beginning to be offended, simply turn the page! If ya don’t know how to do that, find someone to help ya figure it out. If however, I get enough complaints I will gladly cease doing this because I receive no pay nor do I have an expense account. So, obviously, you may rest assured that your dues have absolutely nothing to do with me.

Now, having said all that, [and probably boring most of you to tears], I’ll see what kind of trouble I can get myself into this month......

We in Region Zero had a weekend event held just south of Canton this past summer at a place called Bear Creek...Being the lazy old fart that I am, I rented a golf cart from a vendor on the premises for the weekend. My only chore for the event was to be in charge of the uh, anatomy contest, a task I’ve done many times and enjoy doing. Since my job wasn’t security, I was able to party down. So, most of the time I was free to cruise the 100 acre facility on my four wheeled machine visiting with old and new friends.

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Bummer's Shootin' the Breeze Page!

 

As I did my duty emceeing the uh, anatomy contest I let a buddy use the cart. He ended up getting it stuck in the only mud hole on the whole 100 acre site! When he returned it to me it was covered in slime and filth.

Later that evening after consuming much Yukon, I took the cart for a ride, hosed it down a little with water and soon found myself again hauling a bunch of more buzzed than me partyin’ folk. As we were riding along somebody on the back yelled," Turn here!!”, and without being able to see well in the dark I pulled a 90 degree turn into a deep ditch at full speed, dumping drunks all over the place!

Since it’s a known fact that God watches over drunks and fools, nobody was hurt.....but my poor, cart! The steering column bracket was broken, but since I could still steer the damned thing we continued on our way and rode around til the wee hours.

As the sun rose hot and bright the next morning I stumbled out of my tent, threw some water on my face and went to the cart for some smokes. Wow!....The front was kinda screwed up, the steering column just kinda leaned and there was mud all over it. I was thinkin’, ’Somebody must have stolen my...no..wait! It was me!!..OH crap!’ And feeling like a fool I rode the thing back to the vendor smackin’ myself in the head saying stuff like,”What an idiot!” and “This is gonna cost me a fortune!”

Fortunately he only charged me an extra $35 after calling and finding out how much the steering bracket was gonna be. As I walked away he was shaking his head and mumbling, “Damned bikers!” I later made sure he wasn’t really mad and found out he plans on doin’ the same thing next year.

The moral of this story is ya shouldn’t drink and drive kids, and also maybe watch out when ridin’ those golf carts unless yer wearin seat belts and helmets! Maybe we should try to get a law passed! [joke]

That's me, dammit!~Watch here for next month's installment!

**NOTE:** On October 18th, a good friend, dedicated member, and officer in ABATE went on his last ride. About 100 bikes rode in his procession on a cold rainy Tuesday afternoon. Whenever a hand was needed at a meeting, a function, or just to help keep our region and county chapter of ABATE movin’ along down the road, he was always there.

Shorty, EVERYBODY liked ya! And that says so much my brother. We’re all gonna miss yer bad jokes and know we’ll be ridin’ together again someday. What time is it up there old buddy?....You will be missed.

That's me, dammit!~Watch here for next month's installment!

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On one such excursion the cart was full of pals, and as I turned one corner a close buddy named Redneck leaped onto the front extending his arms in the manner of someone riding a chopper with apehangers.

“We be jammin’ man!” he yelled as he guzzled the beer he clenched in one fist.

For the next hour or so we scooted all over the campground visiting vendors and campsites, enjoying the beautiful weather and the good vibes only a successful ABATE function could have. Seemed like I knew almost everybody.

As we passed one vendor Redneck yelled, “Stop! I wanna check somethin’ out!” And before I could get the overloaded cart stopped, he leaped off the front. Of a moving vehicle! The cart ran him over and I looked down to see his head and torso stickin’ out from the body of the cart below me as I finally got ‘er stopped.

“How did ya get down there?”

“Get this thing off me!”

As I tried to back up one of the ladies on the rear asked,”What are we stoppin’ for?”

“I think I damaged Redneck.”

Then I heard the victim shout, “Ouch! Wait Bum. I’m caught on something!”

The guy next to me casually looked in my direction and asked, “What’s he doin’ down there?”

‘I dunno. Guess we better get off tho.” So we all piled off then lifted it off the mangled form of my brother.

It turned out he had a fractured ankle, but not letting a little thing like that spoil a party, he ignored it for the rest of the weekend.

Later a friend borrowed the cart and went hill climbing in the woods with his girlfriend. When they pulled back into the campsite they weren’t talking to each other because he ended up almost flipping it off the crest of a hill and scared the daylights out of her. Later that same girl was a passenger on the cart when another young lady was driving it around.

Soon I was called to the front gate where an ambulance was loading the first girl into the back.

“What happened to her?” I asked the gatekeepers.

“She fell off a damned golf cart and knocked herself out! They’re takin’ her to a hospital to check her out.” Just then the 2nd girl drove up in my apparently cursed cart and told me how it happened.

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