ChuckDoherty.com

I guarantee that this little film will brighten your day.

I visited Razee Motorcycles in North Kingstown today for their annual open house and a demo of the new line of KTM motorcycles.  I didn’t take one for a ride myself, but there were plenty of other riders who did, and the place was hopping. 

I joined some friends for a short ride while they were waiting for their turn on the new bikes, and even though I have lived in RI all of my live I still had chance to see a few sights on this ride that I have never seen before, including some great back roads that are perfect for motorcucle riding.  Part of the route took us down to Point Judith, where the temperature was at least 20-degrees cooler than it was where we started just a few miles inland.

While at the dealer event, three young guys pulled up riding rice rockets and wearing classic Rhode Island Motorcycle Summer Protective Gear which consists of sleeveless t-shirts, shorts and sandals.  One was a bit more safety-conscious so he was also sporting a sturdy baseball cap, but as he told his friends it had a tendency to blow off at high speeds.

One of the three walked over to the registration area and asked about their taking test drives on the new KTMs, but he was turned away.  He walked back to tell his two companions; “They say we can’t ride ‘cause you got to have to have helmets…and pants.”  How sad to see these young men subjected to this sort of discrimination.

I sat through two mind-destroying hours of “entertainment” today in the form of the new Indiana Jones movie.  Here, in a nutshell, is my review:

 A true piece of shit, with shit frosting on top, served with a heaping side of fries.  Fries made from shit. 

The essence of this dog-rocket was little more than the same scenario over and over, in which ol’ Indy would find himself surrounded by bad guys pointing guns at him (and at each other since they are standing in a circle, but no one in movies ever thinks of that) until he somehow slips away yet again.  

Each escape would involve thousands of rounds shot at him, pretty much point-blank, with each bullet missing the mark in classic A-Team fashion. 

The above repeats until you find yourself $10 poorer and 120 minutes closer to your death.

Oh, and one more thing; will you writers and directors please make up your mind about where your characters are supposed to be?  You can’t just have them start off at sea level and then suddenly find themselves on a cliff high above, only to fall a few thousand feet from there and end up along the top of a mountain range without it confusing everyone.

The mysterious black cat is named Midnight, and he lives one street away. His owners tell me that since they got a new dog, Midnight has been making himself scarce around his own home while working the neighborhood a bit.

Now at least I can shout; “Midnight! Get off my table!” instead of just; “Hey you - cut that out!” That should make all the difference.

Oh, sure, the Intex Inflatable Camping Pillow from REI looks innocent enough, but if the many disclamers and warnings printed on the package and on the product itself are any indication, this vinyl death-trap is a seeting cauldron of danger and destruction just itching to claim another victim. 

I am advised to keep this away from fire, keep it out of water, keep it away from children, and never, ever to use it “as a life-saving device” (as in, “if I don’t get some sleep, I’ll die.”). Honestly, I have purchased chain-saws with fewer warning messages on them.

Most troubling of all, especially considering this is a pillow, is the huge and ominous warning message emblazoned across the bottom of the box (below). It makes me wonder how anyone could sleep at all with this thing in the same room, much less right under their head.

My mysterious visitor is making himself more and more at home these days. He now strolls around my house with impunity and even seems quite comfortable catching a snooze on my couch.

Yesterday, I walked in from making myself a burger on the gas grill to find him standing on my kitchen counter reviewing the available selections in cheeses and condiments.  He shot me one of those ”so what’s the problem?” looks that cats do so well before he grudgingly jumped down, but not with any discernable remorse at being caught red-pawed.