I would like to thank the Mac-Pac club members who assisted me in my hour of travail at the hands of the Tire Nazi, at the recent MOA Rally.
Not only was a day and a half of my rally participation compromised by the Tire Nazi's incredibly inept service delivery, but it was doubtful for a while if I'd have been able to ride my biker home.
I am a re-entry rider after many years away from
motorcycling and took most of the Tire Nazi's utter bullshi* as
gospel. In essence, this personification of a cartoon character let
passersby dismount tires from other patron's motorcycles waiting in line for service, allowing him to throw tires on rims for line-cutters who arrived with wheels under their arms. It was one of these well-intentioned
"volunteers" who split the calipers on the front on my K75 and consequently
drained the brake fluid.
The Tire Nazi explained to me that this was my faulty for driving a
bike with defective brakes, most probably a bad seal. He ranted and
raved about the necessity for finding a caliper rebuild kit (closest
one was in New Hampshire) or a replacement caliper assembly (closest
one in New York). The Tire Nazi made a point of emphasizing his potential liability for installing tires on an unsafe motorcycle. He neglected to mention his culpability in letting anyone try their luck at changing tires under his aegis.
Three hours were spent searching vendors at the rally, and on cell
phones trying to locate parts.Much of this search was conducted by
friends of mine, who were able to trot across the fairgrounds and
stand in various lines for 45 minutes while waiting for advice.
It was Brian Curry of the Mac-Pac who reassembled my brakes, under a running apology from the Tire Nazi (which did not include any substantive offer of assistance).
Mr. Curry explained to the Tire Nazi gentleman that the brake seals were probably still good if the "volunteer" help hadn't ripped them out removing the wheel. Suddenly, the Tire Nazi understood what Mr. Curry was saying, and just as suddenly, my machine seemed unlikely to need a caliper re-build kit or a new caliper.
The Tire Nazi acknowledged this by saying, "My ass is sure out in the wind on this one." At this point, my bike had been tied up for 8 solid hours.
For the record, my appointment with the tire Nazi was for 7:30am on
Friday morning, July 21, 2006. I was on time. My tire was mounted on
the wheel (which had been removed at 1pm) at 6:30pm 11 hours later. Many of the machines that were scheduled for service and promised before noon -- along with mine that morning -- were still without tires as night fell.
The Tire Nazi explained to me that he could have fixed my brakes in 10 minutes. Odd that he didn't do so. Odder still that it took two mechanics the better part of an hour to clean the brake pads and bleed the brake lines before the unit was safe to drive.
Yet the day was not without entertainment value. The Tire Nazi held
hundreds of conversations that day: telling the fortunes of potential
customers by looking at their tire treads, explaining in great detail
his philosophy of work excellence, and awing the crowd with stories on
how he changed tires the day before until 1am in the morning. I got a
nice tan by rubbing spilled brake fluid onto my skin and baking for 8
hours. I understand that BMW brake fluid will make a nice glaze on a
chicken too.
My suggestion to the Tire Nazi is to wear a uniform appropriate to his
performance philosophy and work ethic. This doesn't have to be
anything fancy. A big red plastic nose and floppy shoes ought to do
the trick. He also ought to post a sign saying, "Please be advised that scheduled times really mean nothing here, and that some work may be performed by amateurs."
I'm sure that if further investigation is required, it would not be difficult to find the folks who stood in mute frustration and witnessed this operation on July 21, 2006.
JPRiepe
West Chester
Not only was a day and a half of my rally participation compromised by the Tire Nazi's incredibly inept service delivery, but it was doubtful for a while if I'd have been able to ride my biker home.
I am a re-entry rider after many years away from
motorcycling and took most of the Tire Nazi's utter bullshi* as
gospel. In essence, this personification of a cartoon character let
passersby dismount tires from other patron's motorcycles waiting in line for service, allowing him to throw tires on rims for line-cutters who arrived with wheels under their arms. It was one of these well-intentioned
"volunteers" who split the calipers on the front on my K75 and consequently
drained the brake fluid.
The Tire Nazi explained to me that this was my faulty for driving a
bike with defective brakes, most probably a bad seal. He ranted and
raved about the necessity for finding a caliper rebuild kit (closest
one was in New Hampshire) or a replacement caliper assembly (closest
one in New York). The Tire Nazi made a point of emphasizing his potential liability for installing tires on an unsafe motorcycle. He neglected to mention his culpability in letting anyone try their luck at changing tires under his aegis.
Three hours were spent searching vendors at the rally, and on cell
phones trying to locate parts.Much of this search was conducted by
friends of mine, who were able to trot across the fairgrounds and
stand in various lines for 45 minutes while waiting for advice.
It was Brian Curry of the Mac-Pac who reassembled my brakes, under a running apology from the Tire Nazi (which did not include any substantive offer of assistance).
Mr. Curry explained to the Tire Nazi gentleman that the brake seals were probably still good if the "volunteer" help hadn't ripped them out removing the wheel. Suddenly, the Tire Nazi understood what Mr. Curry was saying, and just as suddenly, my machine seemed unlikely to need a caliper re-build kit or a new caliper.
The Tire Nazi acknowledged this by saying, "My ass is sure out in the wind on this one." At this point, my bike had been tied up for 8 solid hours.
For the record, my appointment with the tire Nazi was for 7:30am on
Friday morning, July 21, 2006. I was on time. My tire was mounted on
the wheel (which had been removed at 1pm) at 6:30pm 11 hours later. Many of the machines that were scheduled for service and promised before noon -- along with mine that morning -- were still without tires as night fell.
The Tire Nazi explained to me that he could have fixed my brakes in 10 minutes. Odd that he didn't do so. Odder still that it took two mechanics the better part of an hour to clean the brake pads and bleed the brake lines before the unit was safe to drive.
Yet the day was not without entertainment value. The Tire Nazi held
hundreds of conversations that day: telling the fortunes of potential
customers by looking at their tire treads, explaining in great detail
his philosophy of work excellence, and awing the crowd with stories on
how he changed tires the day before until 1am in the morning. I got a
nice tan by rubbing spilled brake fluid onto my skin and baking for 8
hours. I understand that BMW brake fluid will make a nice glaze on a
chicken too.
My suggestion to the Tire Nazi is to wear a uniform appropriate to his
performance philosophy and work ethic. This doesn't have to be
anything fancy. A big red plastic nose and floppy shoes ought to do
the trick. He also ought to post a sign saying, "Please be advised that scheduled times really mean nothing here, and that some work may be performed by amateurs."
I'm sure that if further investigation is required, it would not be difficult to find the folks who stood in mute frustration and witnessed this operation on July 21, 2006.
JPRiepe
West Chester