By now it’s obvious there was a citywide meeting among motorcycle riders this season where all agreed their mufflers would not reduce the amount of noise emitted by the exhaust of their internal combustion engines, as intended, but rather, would amplify it to the absolute maximum degree.
Why bikers would do this, I don’t know. Woefully misguided idea of what constitutes cool maybe? But I do know this: every single day this summer, I have been aurally assaulted by a blisteringly loud, hurricane-force, motorcycle muffler. There have always been fuckwits screeching around our streets and waking up the neighbours, but this year it’s the norm, not the exception.
Do I really need to bother stating I don’t hate bikes or bikers as a general rule? One of my best friends rocks a BMW (hi Wayne!) and I have blissfully sat on the back of many bikes over the years. Bikes are awesome - unless you are rattling all and sundry with your screaming muffler. Zipping by in a haze of racket doesn’t make you look foxy. It makes you look like an imbecile who doesn’t know how to provide routine maintenance to your vehicle.
And since I am already in a lather, here are a few other things annoying the bejesus out of me this summer:
- The startling lack of summer. I wore a scarf and jacket to yoga last night. That is just so many kinds of wrong I can’t count.
- Labour Day is 17 days away. 17. Beyond that lies winter, coiled and waiting to heave forth and envelop us in wretched cold for months on end. You remember winter, don’t you? It’s the living embodiment of The Thing That Wouldn’t Leave. And it’s headed our way.
- I was completely priced out of the genius of Jack White live in concert. Also, the irresistible ridiculousness or Def Leppard and KISS in concert. Sometimes, freelance living really sucks.
- The 2012 vintage of Peller Estates Private Reserve Baco Noir is all gone. Forever. That was some damn tasty wine.
- One of my dearest friends landed a great job… in St. John’s Newfoundland. I already miss her so much my stomach hurts. And yet I couldn’t be happier for her. How the heck do you reconcile that? (See also ‘freelance living,’ above, before blabbing on about frequent visits).
Well, there’s always autumn. And the 2013 vintage Thirty Bench Riesling is rumoured to be better than it has any right to be. Oh yeah, there’s vodka also. And four new titles I put on hold at the library just came in! All at once! Maybe things are starting to look up.