Rob Cassell
I suppose you could call that a personality. Each machine has its own, unique personality which could probably be defined as the intuitive sum total of everything you know and feel about it. This personality constantly changes, usually for the worse, but sometimes surprisingly for the better, and it is this personality that is the real object of motorcycle maintenance. The new ones start out as good-looking strangers and, depending on how they are treated, degenerate rapidly into bad-acting grouches or even cripples, or else turn into healthy, good-natured, long-lasting friends. This one, despite the murderous treatment it got at the hands of those alleged mechanics, seems to have recovered and has been requiring fewer and fewer repairs as time goes on.
This passage from Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance shows that there are two people in a relationship-even with the machine. One can not attribute a bad relationship just to personality because personality is a reaction to the way one treats someone else. I tried to capture the need for maintenance within a relationship and the consequence of poor maintenance in the following:
Neglect
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The doctor burst into the room, "Congratulations! It's a son!" The happiest day of my life; The proudest I've been of what I've done. With Boy Scouts and Little League It will be quite a joy. Playing games, shooting hoops Spending time with my boy.
Can't play now son, the game is on. You've ten years old, go find some friends. Our team's on boy, we're down by one, Go play now, I'lll come when it ends I have a meeting-can't be there. I'm sure your play is a sight. I left some dinner in the fridge. I'll see you later tonight.
Don't use that tone with me now son! Your driving days are through! Why do you do this to your mom and me? What did we do to you? I know that you are angry, But there's no need to shout! Put all of your luggage down! Son, please don't move out! |
VROOOOM!
Clank! Cough!
Wheeze Kaput! The object of my affection Whose workings I must respect My joy is gone forever Due to one word NEGLECT |
I saw you in the showroom: The BMW-R61! The fruits of all my labor; The best purchase that I have done. While cruising down the highway It will be quite a joy. Banking into all the turns Spending time with my toy.
There's no time to change your oil. But you're German made under warranty. I'm so far behind in my work. I'lll catch up, then ride with glee. I have a meeting-no time to ride Though I's rather ride than sit. I'll fill your tank to the brim And I'll ride you in a bit.
You threw the chain and have a clank! Your riding days are through! Why did you break down like this? What can a mechanic do? You can't be started at all now, That you'ree worthless I have no doubt! You'ree nothing but scrap metal! Now I must throw you out! |