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American Gothic, A Big Banana Split and Tiger Troubles

On Saturday I meant to just duck out for a few hours before the rest of the family got up. I figured I could buzz out to New Jersey, see the giant tooth and be back home by lunch time.

But, plans changed back at home and so I stayed out longer than I originally anticipated. It was cool but sunny, so I was only too happy to be exploring.

I lingered around near the Grounds for Sculpture to see ‘America the Beautiful,’ an homage to Grant Wood’s American Gothic.

And the dancers across the way…

I was flittering about exploring old cemeteries, looking for parked trains and other roadside odds and ends.

In the process of doubling back to take a picture of a boat-sized banana split, a lady who decided that she didn’t need to use her mirrors or her eyeballs while behind the wheel decided to back up in the parking lot without looking. She came within inches of knocking me over. I went to honk my horn and… nothing? What the hell?

In that immediate irrational thinking moment, I figured I just didn’t hear the horn because I had music on and the wind was blowing. It seemed impossible that the horn wouldn’t work. But, hey, guess what? When I pressed the button again? Nada.

Ever the optimist, I thought it had to be a fuse or something. I resigned myself to taking a look at it when I got home and went on about my day.

My Tiger Isn’t Feeling Well

Never once did I consider that along with my horn, none of my lights would be working either. I rode around for the whole day? Part of the day? Who knows – with no headlight and no tail/brake light. Scary!

The dashboard was fully lit up, the sun was up and so I didn’t pick up any visual cues that I had a greater problem. Now in hindsight I realize I could have looked for my own headlight reflection in the back on another car. But I didn’t. My life is a cautionary tale.

When I got home, Kenny immediately started poking around on my bike while I shed my gear. If you allow the bars to sit at straight ahead, unturned position – the lights and horn failed. If the bars were turned the bars to the right – everything worked. Turn to the left, nothing.

I don’t want you guys to think I’ve gone all smart and stuff so I will be using my usual technical language here.

There is a “thingy” below the ignition key tumbler that seems to be the culprit. If you press it up towards the key, everything works with the bars in any position. If you don’t press that “thingy” everything only works when the bars are turned to the right.

I’ve got to call the dealer tomorrow to see if I can get my bike in ASAP.

In the meantime, Kenny has cleared his Tiger for me to use – you know – if I should find myself in some type of rally emergency situation where I need to visit a giant elephant in south Jersey or something.

I have to say, it’s kind of handy having a husband that rides, too. :)

 

Sometimes It’s Like He Doesn’t Know Me At All – The Toothy Edition

Though I’m not much of a telephone caller, I must admit that I really appreciate the ability to make and receive phone calls from my helmet with my Sena headset. Sometimes I’ll be standing on the side of the road doing very important things and I’ll receive a call from home that would have otherwise gone unanswered for hours.

*ring-ring*

 Me: ‘Good morning, sunshine.’

Kenny: ‘What’s going on? Where are you?’

 Me: ‘New Jersey. At the world’s largest tooth.’

Kenny: ‘Ah.’

Where else would I be on a sunny Saturday morning? He’s so ridiculous sometimes.

 

Why, Yes. It IS a Giant Cauliflower

In the realm of giant roadside farm fruits and vegetables there are some oft-seen staples like a giant ear of corn or a strawberry. As my friend Wendy, proprietress of the fabulous Roadside Wonders, said ~ “Yep, you can barely swing a dead cat without hitting a giant apple … but this! This was a wonder to behold!”

Indeed it is, my dear. Indeed it is.

Giant cauliflower?… magnificent. Dare I say? Scrumtrulescent!

If said magnificent cauliflower were to go missing, it did not in any way get strapped down to the rear rack of the Ural and make it’s final resting spot a nest of iridescent unicorn mane hair in my living room. Absolutely not.

Wonder Woman Rosey and Menacing Santa

This place has it all.

I’d passed this house in Lee, Massachussets several times before on the Berkshire Dual Sport rides. Even though my friends know me well enough to realize that coming across such a place is like nirvana for me, we’d never stopped.

A few weekends ago while heading down towards the ferry home, since I was right around the corner, I stopped in for a peek.

After all these years I still haven’t figured out what the right protocol is for lurking around someones yard. You have to imagine that such a place attracts many lookers but even so, I approach anything that is a home with a wide berth. Then I go home wondering if I would’ve been allowed to go closer. ::shrug::

I suppose its better to err on the side of caution and not find myself being attacked by a junkyard dog or a slightly touched homeowner wondering what I’m doing on their property.

I can’t even begin to know what the red-eyed, menacing Santa with barrel legs is up to. I just know that if that dude showed up after midnight on my roof as a kid… nightmares.


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I did a quick Google search to try to find out about this house but didn’t see anything. Any locals know the story?

 

[EDIT 9-11-12]

Thanks to super-sleuth Stephanie – an obituary for Rosemarie “Wonder Woman” Dupont was found. It seems she passed away in December 2009. The house and barn must be a tribute to her from her husband, who is a painter. Rest in peace, Rosey.