“Sir, please Sir, can we get on with it please sir”. I honestly never thought I’d utter these immortal words but truth be told I’m probably displaying all the signs of youth that you would expect. Now for those of you that know this column and were tuning in to find out something useful about bikes, I’m sorry to disappoint but read on and bear with me. It will get better, I promise!
You may remember, I’ve signed up for the delights of learning how to maintain my own bike at Merton College in South London. Well, it’s Week 3 and we’re still reading bits of paper explaining how engines work. We’ve done “which tools we need to spend loads of money on”, but have we touched one? Nope. Well, this week we started on “how to make sure you can stop in time when you’ve been for a damm good razz round the B-roads of Britain”, but have I bled a nipple (snigger)? Nope. Have I grasped a calliper and greased a piston? Nope.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m old enough (no jokes form the back, thank you) to understand “learn to walk before you run”. Theory before practise and all that, and that’s fine and dandy, but you see, the guys in the classroom next door are learning all the theory WHILST PLAYING WITH ACTUAL BIKES. It’s getting very frustrating.
But here’s the funny bit. I’ve got the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Now me being me, and coming from a very impatient family that just wants to get on with things and get stuck in, I firmly believe that if the teacher wants to read bits of paper explaining stuff to us, he’s more than welcome to do so. But the way I see it, if he reads to us whilst we’re actually playing with the kit we get the best of both worlds. The theory and the practical in front of us to see it in action.
Now on one shoulder I have Satan. Dressed in an XXXXXL red-leather, zip-up gimp-suit, and toting a 73 pronged pocket dragon which occasionally belches pure Welsh venom. This is MattCBF600, a fine figure of a fella whose built up a spectacular rapport with the teacher whose Welsh. Oh and watch the Welsh jokes as well please, my missus hails from that hellish place, ?.
Now Matt, apparently feels the same as me. We have great respect for the instructor’s obvious wealth of experience and tips that we could afford to learn from. But why aren’t we playing with the kit whilst the teacher talks, giving us the hands on experience so many of us signed up for. This is, after all, in the words of the instructor himself a very short course. So let’s crack on. But no, he persists in handing us bits of paper and then reading them to us… word for word. We’re all adults who voluntarily signed up for this education, I think it’s safe to assume we can read.
Now on the other shoulder, dressed in a choir boys dress of Bold-freshed white with a tinfoil gold halo and a twinkly star in his right hand is Macp (sorry Pat someone had to be the fall guy). Macp is of the far more Buddhist approach in this story, berating Matt and myself for our obvious impatience. The theory the instructor is giving us is of exemplary quality, that is in no doubt. This man could build an engine from a stick of bamboo and three slightly smelly mackerel fillets and it would still go faster than a GSX-R 750. I swear. I’m not kidding, he’s that good.
So here I am, leather clad Matt, and the angelic Pat on either shoulder, urging me to either give the guy a kick up the bum and a cry of “Get on with it”, and at the same time begging me to be patient and learn… Is it me or does this sound like most of life?
Anyway. Once again, I am left hoping that next week, instead of coming back with a sore arse (from the classroom chair – god you lot have filthy minds) and tired eyes from reading hand outs. But instead, I’ll have filthy overalls and grazed knuckles from where I accidentally stripped a bolt, but recovered with an amazingly jury-rigged Clamp device which the instructor taught me in week 3 from two tyre irons and a spare socket… very useful for removing a wedged piston if you don’t have the right kit or a handy 320psi airhose…. wait a minute…. I have learnt something…. Pat… you’re right. Give the guy a chance.
Matt, you’re gonna have to keep that leather outfit on for another week I’m afraid, Teach has another chance, but I’ll be honest. Week 4, if I don’t have shining reports about the agony of scraped knuckles full of hydraulic fluid, bruised cheek bones from low flying piston parts and an awful taste in my mouth from where I tried to siphon the brake fluid through the wrong tube then I will be on the war path.
Stay tuned for more from the South London Marx brothers - Welsh, Impatient and Buddha.
Related Linkswwww.merton.ac.uk
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