Neil":8ztqm322 said:
FMJ":8ztqm322 said:
What's the over/under on the time it takes till the thread title is changed to "Down to just two bikes - sorry, 3 bikes - oops, 4 bikes"?
So... if I'm reading you correctly, you're kinda saying the thread title can be like trying to play pin the tail on the donkey, when the donkey is psychotic, has just taken a cocktail of speed, crystal meth, tren and LSD, and has just been wellied in the nards by a sadistic sociopath with a baseball bat... and it's just seen a carrot... and it's a full moon...
I see what you mean.
Sure, I get it. Not just your average game of pin the tail on the donkey. More like chasing the donkey. Yep, chasing the unpredictable, twitching, spastic, hallucinating, methed-out, psychotic, rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth donkey from Hell with Tourette's Syndrome.
I understand that heroin addicts go through a similar experience referred to as "chasing the tiger", meaning that they're always trying to reach that euphoric height of their first heroin high, but that high is as elusive as a tiger, and try as they might, the addicts just can't catch that tiger.
Similarly, as much as I chase the elusive retrobike unicorns of my youth, and even though I've managed to catch many of them, the thrill of the hunt and the euphoria of the capture when middle-aged doesn't nearly compare to the experience of being a twenty-something young man and riding an MTB with passion, anger, and seemingly unlimited strength and endurance, yet I still hold out hope that the next retrobike I find on eBay or Craigslist will fill that void and scratch that itch. Meanwhile, bystanders, outsiders and other non-MTBers will simply look upon me with the same pity with which they would look upon a homeless heroin addict, and refer to my seemingly futile endeavor of going broke while buying one old bike after another as "chasing the donkey". They may even hold me up as an example to their children: "Look at him", they'll say. "He has more bikes that he will ever ride, but he'll never be as happy as he was in his youth, and yet he continues to (fingerquotes) '
chase the donkey' ".
Guilty as charged. You may well see me on a street corner someday holding a cardboard sign that reads "will work for NOS Deore XT parts", while passersby scream "donkey chaser" at me and laugh as I eagerly stoop to pick up the worn XT thumbies and tattered BioPace rings that they toss at my feet; useless items of trash to them, yet priceless objects of pure gold to me.
:facepalm:
Ready for my first meeting of DCA: "Hi, my name is Frank, and I'm a donkey chaser".