Two Wheel Tuesday: Perspiration of the Brain

You know, on a normal week the ride portion of Two Wheel Tuesday is, in and of itself, the main attraction. It is what drew me in to begin with and is, largely, what keeps me coming back. That is saying something because, quite frankly, the post-ride libations of the La Verne Brewing Company, and culinary fare can easily stand on their own. Beside those, there is another reason to stick around - the post ride banter that tends to take place around the pints and scattered tables. Bloody L'elbow underperformed this week, no rolling in the dirt, no missing skin, an unfortunate circumstance which left me lacking for inspiration.

That all changed when it came time to unsaddle and sit around the campfire - telling of tales time. Those tales can get especially good when two or more of the riders-turned-sitters have known one another for years, or even decades. There is a lot of material to work with there, and I suspect that we have only scratched the surface. Anyway, at some point the phrase "perspiration of the brain" reached my ears. Over the course of the evening I lost track of what it was in reference to, but I certainly did not lose the significance of its meaning. Take, for instance, tonight's food purveyors who, not only failed to show up, but failed to notify anyone that they had moved out of state. Though it would not ease the disappointment my belly felt, they could blame it on "perspiration of the brain." It is a good catch-all, one I hope the mrs. does not read about because I plan to use it should I forget to do something, anything, following an especially grueling ride - you know, the "you forgot to wash the dishes", "oh, I'm sorry, still suffering from perspiration of the brain, I guess." In fact it is perfect right this minute, as I write; I mean, so I don't remember its original intent, we had just finished riding after all. Perspiration of the brain.

That was just the beginning, and eventually things got serious, talk turned to brainwashing and Scientology, devil worshipers in Hollywood, someone named Doug who raced against John Tomac and Greg Herbold, thrones and showers (single topic), bowling alleys, or was it bowling with devil worshipers (and wasn't it a coincidence that Hell Boy was showing on the tv at that moment?), and the nudist apartment building in Highland Park right below the Southwest Museum which, though I worked there for sixteen years, I was apparently unaware. Or maybe I did know of it and forgot - perspiration of the brain?