They say Moving is one of the three most stressful events of a person's life.
Fortunately, moving Geneve to West Hartford this past weekend went nice and smooth.
it was an added bonus that the multiple trips up the 64 stairs to Geneve's fifth-floor walkup was the most exercise I've had in weeks.
We packed up the RSX to the gills and made it safely home, with only one incident.
For some reason, there were hundreds of bikes out and about last Sunday. We were consistently buzzed by convoys of 20-or-so bikers riding everything from little Japanese Ninjas to big fat Hogs. We even saw a couple of dudes pull wheelies at 70 MPH...these were bikes up on one wheel at about a 60-70 degree angle. Crazy.
Anyways, while driving back I checked my blindspot, signalled, and went to change lanes. Seems I missed a bike in my blindspot, and as the rider honked furiously, I pulled back into my own lane. A big, fat, helmetless dude on a big, fat hog, with his motorcycle mama holding on behind him cruised slowly by, flipping the bird as he drove.
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