08-05-2024, 03:15 AM
I'm cursed. Having worked as a mechanic, done bodywork and every manner of construction, I can't look at, listen to, or basically enjoy any mechanical object without mentally tearing it apart. A few days ago, walking through a parking lot, I told a lady who drove past me that her car was low on power steering fluid. I consider one of the advantages of a flip-up modular helmet being the ability to tell someone at a stoplight that they have a brake light out, or that I can hear the wear sensors on their brake pads.
Sometimes I need to edit myself... a friend was proud to show me a vintage car he had just bought. The first thing I noticed was a slight color variance between the front clip and the rest of the body. Shoulda kept my mouth shut. He hadn't noticed, but after I mentioned it, that's all he could see. Ended up having the whole car repainted. Was up till midnight polishing out some minor etching on the roof of Mrs. G's CRV from a few huge bird poops. The roof of a 14-year-old, 165,200 mile CRV.
Working in racing for a paying job, there are the noises some can pick up right before something really bad happens, accompanied by an appropriate response - go and look (gonna be cool), duck (flying parts), jump on the truck (he's gonna hit the wall). You also learn to audibly identify what kind of cam, lifters, etc a particular engine is running, and whether it's being pulled by 7.3, 6.0 or 6.8 Powerstroke.
Sometimes in the still of night I'll hear something... why am I hearing water running? Whew, just the water softener in regen mode.
My motorcycles make so many noises that I would go nuts listening to every single one of them, and would not be able to enjoy riding, one of the only things I truly enjoy in this world. I wear earbuds and listen to music while I ride. I'll make sure that everything is checked on the maintenance schedule, check my fluids and air pressure weekly and do my pre-ride inspections. But I will trust that the bikes are running fine.
Sometimes I need to edit myself... a friend was proud to show me a vintage car he had just bought. The first thing I noticed was a slight color variance between the front clip and the rest of the body. Shoulda kept my mouth shut. He hadn't noticed, but after I mentioned it, that's all he could see. Ended up having the whole car repainted. Was up till midnight polishing out some minor etching on the roof of Mrs. G's CRV from a few huge bird poops. The roof of a 14-year-old, 165,200 mile CRV.
Working in racing for a paying job, there are the noises some can pick up right before something really bad happens, accompanied by an appropriate response - go and look (gonna be cool), duck (flying parts), jump on the truck (he's gonna hit the wall). You also learn to audibly identify what kind of cam, lifters, etc a particular engine is running, and whether it's being pulled by 7.3, 6.0 or 6.8 Powerstroke.
Sometimes in the still of night I'll hear something... why am I hearing water running? Whew, just the water softener in regen mode.
My motorcycles make so many noises that I would go nuts listening to every single one of them, and would not be able to enjoy riding, one of the only things I truly enjoy in this world. I wear earbuds and listen to music while I ride. I'll make sure that everything is checked on the maintenance schedule, check my fluids and air pressure weekly and do my pre-ride inspections. But I will trust that the bikes are running fine.