RUDIMENTS

RUDIMENTS pt. 151 Making Cars I'm far from being someone who notices everything; but not much  -  in the same vein  -  gets past me. A part of me wants to say 'environment' (meaning, where I live), is very important to me. But if that was strictly the case, you'd correctly say, 'Then what are you doing here, good God.' That would be valid  -  this place is a cultural dung-heap, a wreckage and a ruin, and a sluice pipe, as well, of lies and corruption. I know that. I keep my eyes peeled, believe me, for anything I can catch to pin on people  -  and if I ever scientifically can point to and prove corruption, I'll be the first to trot it out. The New York Times (I was researching the agencies and the government links to which to contact and share information), says most endemic governmental corruption is not the big-city stuff but is most prevalent and made manifest in the smaller  towns and municipalities.

RUDIMENTS, pt. 150 Making Cars In about 1994, I went to Washington DC, to meet with Senators and others, for purposes of motorcycle legislation and helmet law hearings and testimony and all that. It was to be a bunch of crap, and I knew that, but, with a few other people (in a large van I rented) we left at 4:30am and gleefully rode with the moon all the down to DC. No huge trip, mind you; I make it out to be something here for effect. It was a cool way of scraping the dust of home off our feet. Once we arrived there, other people were waiting for us, etc. There's something down there, for lobbying purposes, etc, called the MRF (Motorcycle Riders Foundation), and they keep (or kept anyway) on office on a very low-number street, 3rd street, to Massachusetts Ave; I can't remember. Back then, there was a guy running the MRF, named Wayne  Curtin, and he'd just recently become  a little notorious because of some things

RUDIMENTS, pt. 149 Making Cars I had a teacher in second grade,  (I do remember that), Mrs. Schur,  who cryptically wrote, as a comment,  on one of my report cards  - second grade, mind you  -  that 'Gary has  a problem with questions?' My  parents tried, in their jumbled way,  to tell me that was of concern and  something I should work on (?),  but no one ever told me what it  meant  -  like some adult-talk teacher-lingo, did it mean to say  I was unable to understand a  question mark? Didn't know if something WAS a question? Wasn't able to answer a question? Or asked too many questions? It was all too confusing to me,  all these foolish adults looking  back at me with their frizzled comments. I felt  -  even at that young age  -  that none of them  knew what they were talking  about, ever, and that mostly  they just role-played these  really boring character acts.  I still had a year to go before  getting con