Never the Same IC#18 Hanging in There

Big feet equal collective optimism—R. Crumb It seems that Kirk has average feet and his hands full!

 

Cue: “The Motorcycle Song” https://youtu.be/BvLtNBm1yyA

 

An unnamed commuter in his sensible family car sat at a red light on his way to the grind. With a rump, rump, rump noise a young guy named Bronson on a motorcycle pulled up beside him.

Eyeing the bag on the bike, the commuter asked Bronson, “Taking a trip?”

Bronson didn’t catch it over the motorcycle’s exhaust noise, “What’s that?”

“Taking a trip?”

“Yeah.”

“Where to?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Where ever I end up, I guess.”

“Man, I wish I was you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, hang in there,” said Bronson before riding off on many adventures.

 

The winter slowly melted away with spring nudging its way into Kirk’s life. With the promise of spring and the possibilities the summer might bring, Kirk fostered a new outlook on his life. Besides, already with a new motorcycle purchase, he couldn’t wait to bring the ruby red and white two-wheeled banshee home and hit the road. He envisioned himself as an economical “Then Came Bronson” a television show about a drifter on a particular Harley bike that proved more open road worthy than Kirk’s new smallish one. Kirk would never take a long, cross-country trip like Bronson on his smallish bike�"or would he? Stay tuned readers!

One particularly nice day, Kirk went over to the Yamaha dealer given a ride by his other brother-in-law Jon who had a motorcycle himself. There sitting out front sat his ruby red and white dream bike. He just had to stand there a few minutes taking the beauty machine in. Jon commented on the good looks of the bike. Kirk squatted down to examine the nicely detailed black and aluminum engine. Kirk then sat on the bike to get a feel for the controls. He had ridden dirt bikes before so he had a basic understanding, but he wasn’t overly proficient in riding, especially on the street. The salesman came out with the owner’s manual in hand.

The salesman showed all the necessary things Kirk needed to know, like the controls, shifter�"one up, five down, how to check the transmission oil, engine oil, how to adjust the chain, and most importantly, how to start the bike. With a click of the choke, turn of the key and a quick kick on the starter the bike fired up and idled smoothly. He flicked off the choke for Kirk. Giving the throttle a couple quick twists resulted in a ring-a-ding, ding and a plume of two-stroke smoke. The salesman reminded Kirk to take it easy on the bike for the first 3000 miles like the manual stipulated, not only to break the engine in properly, but also for Kirk to get use to the bike’s sudden and explosive power curve.

Taking it easy after the salesman’s advice, Kirk timidly took off out of the parking lot. He couldn’t believe how smooth and perfect the bike felt. He fumbled a bit going up through the gears but got up to speed. Trying the brakes front and rear, he remembered the motorcycle handbook for the learner’s permit said to not apply the rear brake with any real pressure because most of your stopping power is in that front disk brake. On the open road, Kirk relished the wind in his face and the wide-open vista all around him, not that he had the confidence to do much sightseeing. The bike, for Kirk, equaled freedom something he had craved from his childhood through to his current humdrum existence. Stepping back away from Kirk’s current situation and in comparison, to others, he lived an anything but a humdrum life.

So, Kirk rode said bike home, pulled into the yard and parked it. The bike was relatively quiet, but no one in his family seemed to care that he acquired a new two-wheeled conveyance. No one came out to look as Kirk examined the bike again. Eventually, his father moseyed on by from being out in the field but only gave the bike and Kirk the stink eye. Kirk assumed his father thought the bike was a total waste of money much better spent on new farm equipment. Surly, Kirk would never do that. His mother probably assumed the motorcycle as a death machine, and his sisters, well, they were just doing their own thing not to be bothered by an annoying brother and a machine of road death. 

Consequently, this particular spring meant a lot in Kirk’s life, at least, wheeled-vehicle- wise anyway. The top two items were the new motorcycle and his hand-me-down stock car which still hadn’t moved or improved throughout the winter. Besides those things he looked forward to exceeding all speed limits with his Firebird when the threat of snow completely evaporated and with it the horror of salted roads. Of course, he’d have to dump the White Rat ASAP. Maybe just drop it off at Crazy Ed’s Junkyard. More on Ed later. But of all these wheeled things to keep Kirk busy something else appeared out of the blue that appealed to Kirk’s fancy.

At the dealership there was a lineup of vehicles destined for the junkyard or more likely the crusher. Kirk never really paid much attention to the lineup until one day when he headed out to road test yet another car which as we know was his most favorite part of his job. There sitting in the condemned lineup sat a more or less white Dodge panel van with a crumpled front.

The van was a highly desirable short wheelbase, a no window work panel van. It sat there with two flat tires and a smashed front on the driver’s side. Apparently, it had been a plumber’s work van because you could see the sign in the upper panel that had been smeared over with what looked like housepaint.  Under the paint it had apparently said, “Murphy’s” or “Murry’s” plumbing and heating. This older model van had the engine between the two seats which were the only seats in the van. Interestingly, as Kirk looked it over, the interior floor and walls were literally beat to hell with scrapes and dents everywhere, but other than that frontend crash the exterior remained in pretty good condition. For being a work van the rest of the body remained dent free with no serious rust. For some unknown reason at that particular moment, Kirk had to have the van!

Kirk asked Marty the service manager who he needed to see about the van. He was told to see John, the “Lot Wrangler.” Kirk tracked John down who at the time was cleaning and rearranging used cars out in the other lot. Kirk managed to get John’s attention who was obviously annoyed to be bothered by a lowly grease monkey meaning Kirk’s menial position. When asked, John acted as he didn’t know which particular van Kirk was asking about. He didn’t seem to understand why anyone would want something off the salvage line like maybe Kirk was mental or something. John told Kirk that he’d have to talk to his boss, the used car manager. Just another administrative layer or hoop to jump through. Kirk couldn’t wait for tomorrow when John tried to put him off, so Kirk persuasively told John that he needed to get an answer and have the transaction done right then. Thus John glumly strolled back with Kirk to the main building and hunted down Richard Head, the Used Car Manager. Amazingly, or not so, Richard was in his office of all places.

Sitting in a vintage swivel metal chair, fat old Dick was busy sucking back a coffee and scarfing down a huge Pershing. A brass nameplate on his desk proudly proclaimed, “Richard Head, Used Car Sales Manager.” Breaking his stare from the crumbs on Richard’s too wide tie that hung over his portly belly, Kirk overcame whatever emanated out of John’ mouth to abruptly blurt out, “I want to buy the smashed white van in the salvage line.” This thereby and precisely pissed John off. He let out a huff and gave Kirk the stink eye that Kirk caught with his above average peripheral vision.

“Sure thing,” Richard said, but he paused with the wheels obviously spinning furiously. Junkers comin’ tomorrow. They always give me fifty bucks a car.

“I’ll give you a hundred bucks and get it out of the lot tonight.”

 “Done and done,” said Richard sounding a lot like Scrooge. “I’ll dig the paperwork out. Pay me later?”

Kirk said, “Yep, in full tomorrow!” 

Dick leaned forward in his squawking chair and pointed. “Hey John, moron! Whatcha’ doin’ standin’ there lookin’ dumber than usual? Get your fanny perpendicular outside and back to work.” John turned in another huff and stormed out. Kirk realized that Richard must listen to Cheech and Chong.

On the way out, Kirk noticed the complimentary plaque that read: “Dick Head, thanks for all the hard work to set a record number of cars sold!”  Kirk snickered on his way out.  

***

Now Kirk had a van to fix up and already had a full vision of what it would become in his mind’s eye. Several years back in his Nehru Jacket days and during the height of hippiedom, Robert Crumb or as he signed his work, “R. Crumb,” did one-page cartoons entitled “Keep on Truckin’.” One quote from Crumb said, “Big feet equal collective optimism,” probably being sarcastic about the notoriety he had acquired over the cartoon. At the time, he was fighting the many, many infringements on his copyrighted cartoons which even stretched into the 2000’s with Disney. Crumb’s cartoons featured a small headed man with large feet strutting into different situations. In some frames, the strutting character was shown with a neat psychedelic panel van. Kirk envisioned himself as a future truckin’ man in a van who kept on truckin' though with average feet and average ambitions.

 Anyway, after work Kirk dragged the portable air tank out to the van and aired up the tires to see if they’d hold air or if he had to change them out. At the moment, they didn’t hiss air, but he’d check later before attempting to latch on to it with the White Rat and dragging it home.

Well, the tires stayed up and borrowing a tow bar, a device to tow a car without a driver in the towed vehicle, Kirk backed the White Rat up to the van and hitched it up. The one saving grace of the Rat was that it had a hitch installed. Who’d ever try to tow anything substantially heavy with the Rat? Well, Kirk for one. The Rat struggled a bit towing the van on the up hills and starting out from stop signs, but it did the job. Taking the van directly home, Kirk’s father gave him the evil eye when he maneuvered the van into the old tractor shed where the John Deere lived. Kirk gave the damage another quick over to decide how much he could fix and what needed to be replaced. Right off the bat, he needed a driver’s side door, a headlight fixture and bezel and a turn signal assembly. The bumper which took the brunt of the accident could just be pulled off and thrown away for a cleaner, cool appearance at least in Kirk’s mind’s eye.

 

Being rather single-minded in most cases on whatever his current project happens to be, Kirk had to get going on his latest project “the truckin’ van.” He headed over to Crazy Ed’s the junkyard man. Ed went through hired help like water through a sieve and so a new guy would be working every time Kirk went for a part which was pretty often during stock car building. He ran over there with the White Rat which was a better choice than hauling parts with the Firebird. Anyway, upon arrival he asked the greasy help if they had a van of that make and model. The help told Kirk to go and take a look because he had no idea. Figures. That’s how junkyarders do it because there was only one way in and out of the fenced junkyard so there’d be no running off with parts without paying i.e., “five-finger discount.”

 Kirk scoured the yard. Always interesting to wander in a junkyard and Kirk spotted a few cool cars and others made him wonder why they ended up in the junkyard. Everything has a unique story just like Kirk. Consequently, he found the same make and model van with a clean door and intact lights. Of course, it was waaaay in the back despite not being one of the oldest vehicles in the yard which meant, he personally, would have to remove and lug said parts all the waaaay back.  The van had been green so there’ll be a green door on the white van for a little while. With his handy tool pouch along, he removed said parts, toted them out in two trips, and deposited them next to White Rat. With an entertaining contemplation, he had hoped that Crazy Ed’s help didn’t junk out the White Rat when Kirk wasn’t looking, but when he got back it was still there in all its dirty white and rusty glory. Meanwhile, Ed’s dirty, greasy help put out the cutting torch with a resounding POP he had been using to remove an engine the easy way.

“These three things are all I need today,” Kirk said, introducing the parts with a gesture.

The help glanced over the parts and scratched his head. “Hmm, van parts are hard to come by. Hmmm, a hundred bucks.” He stated with a straight greasy face.

“WHAAAT?!” Kirk said a bit too loud and stiffened his body full upright which was a full head higher than the help. In response, the help stepped back from the pretend irate Kirk.

“These parts aren’t worth that! We can do a whole lot better than that.” There was no way Kirk would pay the same amount for a door and two lights that he paid for the van.  

“Oh, ah, okay. How ‘bout seventy-five?”

“How about fifty?” Kirk said, shaking his head dismally while looking pitifully at the parts on the oily ground.

“Naw, can’t do fifty,” said the help scratching his greasy elbow with greasy black fingers.

“Sixty-five or you can keep the damn parts,” said Kirk, dropping the volume on the five softly, almost silently. He knew full well going in that he would’ve paid a hundred in the first place, but he wanted to go the way of the barter.

“Sure, sixty,” said the help who appeared a bit confused.

Kirk couldn’t believe he had flustered the guy. He turned aside so the help didn’t see how much cash he had in his wallet, counted out the money and handed it to the help who stuffed it into his pocket. Kirk loaded up the parts into the voluminous Rat trunk and took off for home. Kirk knew he had his work cut out for himself because that van’s driver side corner was crunched pretty bad. He could have torched out a corner of the sheet metal from the green van in Crazy Eds, but only needing the corner meant the junkyard would soak him for the van’s entire front sheet metal which he didn’t need. He’d have to do his best, but he knew that the front door post would have to be straightened with major force first off because the current van door bent as it was, fit in a major pinch. For some unknown reason as stated earlier, Kirk was infatuated with the van which really motivated him to press on. 

The first task got rid of the twisted bumper and threw it out for scrap. Then worked on the bent door with a prybar, a sledgehammer, and then more gently unbolted the hinges. The lower hinge was bent, but nothing a little heat and bending wouldn’t solve. He saved the handles and door panel and tossed the door carcass on the scrap pile with the bumper. He examined the extent of the door post damage now that the door was gone. After unscrewing it, he pried the severely smashed turn signal assembly out and tossed it away. He took a few swings at the door frame with the sledgehammer, but he saw it wasn’t moving, only denting and distorting the shape of the post. He took a deep breath and examined the damage from through the hole for the turn signal and from underneath. Kirk knew what he’d have to do.

 Taking a metal hole saw, he drilled a large hole in the floorboard next to where the door’s corner fit. Dragging a log chain to the van, he fed the chain through the hole, around the door post and out the turn signal opening. He hooked the chain together. He set the parking brake and for good measure put the van in gear. Getting the old trusty John Deere running by letting it coast down the small hill, he backed up to the van and hooked up the chain. Slowly, with a pum, pum, pum, he crept forward with the tractor until the chain tautened.

Unsurprisingly, the tractor just dragged the van a couple feet without noticing. Examining the doorframe, it hadn’t moved a millimeter. Kirk stood there with hands on his hips. Seeing the log chain was the only one they had, Kirk went and retrieved the Come Along. This is a pulling device, a tool and not an invite to go on a road trip or a bar crawl. With some finagling, he hooked the come along cable to the van’s rear bumper and the other to a support beam in the shed. I know what you’re thinking, he can’t possibly pull the shed down with the tractor. Impossible possibility.

Using the tightening handle, Kirk winched up the come along dragging the van back until the chain tightened on the tractor. You might think, envisioning what Kirk attempted here was in essence backwards of how it should have been done, but Kirk, being Kirk, cranked some more. The support beam started creaking. He thought that he’d better check the progress of the door post. He saw that the chain had begun to dimple the metal where the links pressed into the metal, but according to his imprecise measurement, a piece of wood about the size of the door, it hadn’t moved�"yet. Two more cranks, the beam creaked and a skreich came from the metal from up front of the van. This time when he checked, he saw it had moved about a quarter inch and the seam between the post and the floorboard had cracked open. Just a little more, Kirk thought.

With two more cranks, the come along dug into the wooden beam some more and more metal screeching came from up front. He checked again and this time the measurement was perfect, but he figured the metal would try to return and resume its bent condition. Two more cranks but then something suddenly went CLUNK! A sense of foreboding coursed through Kirk.

An inspection showed him that the bottom door post seam weld had broken loose. The measurement now showed him that he had gone too far. He backed off the come along and looked again. Yes, the factory seam had gaped open and stayed that way, but the measurement was perfect with no pressure on it which meant the new door ought to fit in okay. He had a lot of work to fix the crunched sheet metal entirely, but he had done enough damage for one day!

To assist in his van project, whatever else he may work on, and add to his growing tool collection Kirk bought a set of acetylene/oxygen torches. A relatively expensive purchase with the additional pressure bottle rent, Kirk knew they’d come in real handy. The first thing he used the torches on was to weld that broken seam on the van and heat up the crunched sheet metal on the corner of the van. This repair turned out to be really labor intensive with various degrees of heating, pounding, pulling, and straightening. Luckily, he had those auto body classes way back in his high school Vo-Tech days.

***

Interestingly, after a few weeks of not visiting Mike’s garage, Kirk decided to stop by and see how things were progressing there. Surprising Kirk, Mike’s stock car appeared pretty much completed minus a paint job and the engine which sat pristinely in the corner sealed up in a clear plastic bag. Kirk wondered what the story was with that. However, what really surprised Kirk first and foremost was that “his” stockcar, the one he inherited from Mike, after sitting in the snow all winter now sat in the garage with the body pulled off.

Kirk thought that Mike might have, should have told him at work that reconstruction had begun on the second stockcar.  Still not sure of the details of the so-call sponsorship deal, Kirk would soon be very surprised with what the sponsorship really entails.

As an after note, adding to Kirk’s now seemingly over-active life happenings, Farrah came back into his life for the second time. Details of their romance was previously covered in “Kirk’s Love Life” episodes, but another fact here was that Farrah’s mother never let her ride on the back of Kirk’s new bike. Mothers!

No doubt that after this particular spring Kirk wouldn’t ever be the same, but the worse, or maybe the best was yet to come!