another perfectly good motorcycle ruined.......

Saturday, 20 June 2015

today, tomorrow, forever...












so, the firm that i've worked for for almost thirty years send me a letter this week to inform me that they are scrapping my final salary pension, the reason? 'we need to use the money that we are currently spending on pensions for our colleagues to be re-directed into the business so we can invest in the future and enable us to purchase competitors and strengthen our position in this very competitive market' oh. so, squeeze me? your going to use my pension money to invest in the firm's future? ok, so where does that leave me then? 'well, for every ten quid you have put in expect to recieve six quid back' whoa, is that fair? 'well, we have to look to the future, the pension scheme cost's us a lot of money, money we could be using to take the company forward. so, what about my future then? 'well, we suggest you seek financial advice, [at your own expense of course] oh, we have contacted the relevant people and you really can't do anything about it, you can't claim age discrimination, i guess you've just got to suck it up' i had nine years left to work. now? well, i'll be working until the day i shuffle off this mortal coil, hey ho. thursday i trap down into leicestershire for the bike night at the vic in coalville, it's a forty mile ride away, a beautiful, mid-summer night, long day's and i need to get my head. i dig out the 'false' bonneville, [the bike closest to the shed door], i'm soon clear of the urban limits and open up the twin, short shifting through the gears and steering the bike using the wide sportster bars, sitting almost upright and keeping my knee's in tight to the tank. out over swarky bridge, the ancient causway where bonny prince charlie decided to sack it and call it a day, skirting melbourne and through pegg's green, dropping onto the 'a' road into coalville and up to the pub. big steve marsh, his wife deborah, son steven jnr and another old mucker, gadge are alredy there. deb's passes me a tea and i investigate the carpark, a couple of t140 bonnevilles, lary, hot-rod harley custom, beautiful mz, i.s.d.t replica, [stunning bike] warning, warning, honda motorcycles approaching, lovely little green cd 200 cafe racer, resto-job 750-four, [great bike, but, i have personally chopped the shit out of these bikes than anyone still alive, why would you want to put one back to standard? just saying] the bsa gold star? triumph tt rep looking the business. oh yes. the rigid framed cbx, six cylinder chop? i'm looking at it and shaun blockley sidles up at my side, 'i built that frame, got a picture of me sitting on it at uncle bunt's' shaun is ex ncc commitee, retired member but still heavilly involved with the club. as the shadow's lengthen i trap on my own, a fast ride back on dry roads, eyes streaming with the pollen. i pull over as i near home, fly splattered yellow safety glasses, sun sinking, motor ticking as it cool's. today.tomorrow. forever.........

one year on.

one year on. i worked with rod. we spent loads of time together, working away from home, travelling the length and breadth of this country, thousands of miles, sharing dig's, ghoster's, early starts and late finishes. fucking hard, back breaking, dangerous work. we had nothing in common really. he was a fisherman, i loved motorcycles. he was the best welder i have ever seen, as strong as an ox, roll-up hanging from his lip, i like strong tea but rod's stewed brew would strip the enamel from your teeth. rod took his own life 20/06/14. miss you mate.