Not the Next Brad Pitt of India.

Trip Start Jan 27, 2008
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Trip End Apr 06, 2009


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Flag of India  ,
Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Well, out of the three men selected, one had the right beard, and the other had the right chest hair. I of course had neither, having shaved the steel wool off of my face in Manali a couple of weeks ago in favor of the Frenchman porn-stache, and my baby smooth chest didn't do the trick either. What can I say? I'm just not a hairy guy. Personally, I consider this to be a sign of evolution. Now if I can just make my feet look less like hands, I'll be all set.
The fellow who got the part after all was a rather thin spanish fellow staying at my hotel who, though having long hair was the closest thing they could find of the three. He did not have enough foliage on his front either, but they said they would color it in with makeup in addition to pinning back his hair. They also asked him if he knew how to do a belly-flop in the pool, so that led me to wonder just what else was in store for the poor bastard. He had been sick with the delhi-belly for a number of days by then, so I could imagine what he might have to go through.
No matter, I'm not sure I want to hang around delhi for as long as the shooting is going to take, even if the money would come in real handy. I'm planning on getting back on the road as soon as thursday to enjoy my last few weeks from the road. There's only so much one can do in this city, and as I do not shop, about half of the things to do are out of the question. Nice to sit in my little chai stall on the ganj and watch the daily parade of freaks go by though.
The "audition" consisted of a PA coming to look us over, have us lift our shirts to show the chest and a cup of coffee. Even with this low bar to jump, I didn't make it. I guess as a somewhat hardened rock and roll road-dog, I'm more of the roadie type anyway. Not much of a primadonna type, so I suppose I wouldn't make good talent in the movies.
So it is back to plan A, in which I have a beer, and. . . well. . .then something else, I'm not sure what at the moment. . .Oh yeah, go for a little ride. Not after beer of course.
I've been hanging out a bit with my new gang, the bullet-wallas, and some of the best conversations seem to happen in that little clubhouse/office upstairs from the shop. I'm listening and learning as Balu and Laura make arrangements to ship refurbished classic bikes to other countries and continents. They are pretty busy with their business and actually seem to be turning a rupee or ten, no small feat while doing business in India.
Nice folks, and I believe I will try to help them with a couple of sales as a few people back in Boston have expressed an interest in having an Enfield, even more so when they see my beautiful '65 bike at home.
It is a sort of desirable thing to have a bike of your birth year, I have found out. Many come looking expressly for such a bike, and the list is long. A fellow from spain in the office over the weekend selected one quite at random and got lucky to have a birthday bike of his own. Mine at home is also such a bike, and happened this way with similar chance. I guess this means that the Bullet-gods smile on me, though from Rocinante's poor performance over the last weeks, the actual manifestation of said blessing still remains to be seen. We shall find out on thursday or friday whether the curse which seems to have been hanging over my riding head like a black cloud will have lifted, or whether more mechanics and delays are in store. Eventually I will end up in Goa, not so unbearable in the off-season with most of the drunken Englishmen gone, and where I have a line on a place to store my beloved but cranky steed until such time as I can return, perhaps september. At least she will be in good running condition with most things repaired. At least I hope. There is always something that can go wrong, don't we all know this fact.

That's the news from Lake Wobegon for now. Where the men are strong smelling, and the cows shit in the street. Thank you and have a pleasant tomorrow.
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Comments

chakoxkanyon
chakoxkanyon on

I'd rather a birth-year Rickenbacker 360!
But we're glad you're safe and having such a grand time in India. If you don't become a motorcycle sales associate, or remain in Goa, we'll look forward to
playing some bad-ass rockroll music for the kiddies when you return?!

or at least promote your motorcycle travel book?! ;)

kick it!

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