I love motorcycles, and I love riding. Like many of you, what first drew me to motorcycles was not just the experience of riding, but the feeling that I’d become part of a special community—a brotherhood, really. Nothing calms me more than a long ride down the Interstate, waving to the members of my beloved clan. Except when I pass Harley guys. I hate Harley guys. Hate, hate, hate. When they pass me on the highway, you know what I do? I don’t wave. With their little tassels handlebars and the studded luggage and the half-helmets—damn, they drive me crazy. You know who else I hate? BMW guys. Oh, I do hate those guys. I don’t wave at them, either. They think they’re so great, sitting all upright, with their 180-degree German engines. Damn, I hate them. They’re almost as bad as those old bastards on their touring motorcycles. You know what I call those bikes? “Two-wheeled couches!” Get it? Because they’re so big. They drive around like they’ve got all day. Appreciate the scenery somewhere else, Grampa, and while you’re at it, I’m not waving to you. Ducati guys—I don’t wave at them either. Why don’t they spend a little more money on their bikes? “You can have it in any color you want, as long as it’s red.” Aren’t you cool! Like they even know what a desmo-whatever engine is, anyway. Try finding the battery, you Italian-wannabe racers! I never, ever wave at those guys. Suzuki guys aren’t much better, which is why I never wave at them, either. They always have those stupid helmets sitting on top of their stupid heads, and heaven forbid they should wear any safety gear. They make me so mad. Sometimes they’ll speed by and look over at me and you know what I do? I don’t wave. I just keep on going. Please, don’t get me started on Kawasaki guys. Ninjas? What are you, twelve years old? Team Green my ass. I never wave at Kawasaki guys. What about those idiots who ride a Honda? I’ll never wave at those Honda guys cause why ride a motorcycle from a company who makes lawn mowers. But even then, I’ll never wave at a guy in full leathers. Never, never, never. Yeah, like you’re going to get your knee down on the New York Thruway. Guys in full leathers will never get a wave from me, and by the way, neither will the guys in two-piece leathers. And I’ll tell you who else I’m not waving at—those guys with the helmets with the loud paint jobs. Four pounds of paint on a two pound helmet– like I’m going to wave back to that! I’ll also never wave at someone with a mirrored visor. Or helmet stickers. Or racing gloves. Or hiking boots. To me, motorcycling is a like a family, a close-knit brotherhood of people who ride motorcycles, wear jeans and a leather jacket (not Vanson Leathers) with regular gloves and a solid-color helmet with a clear visor, no stickers, no racing gloves and regular boots. And isn’t that what really makes riding so special?

I draw a circle on a piece of paper, and draw a line that goes to another circle that I’ve drawn on that same piece of paper. Somewhere in there is a plot, a story, a protagonist, a destiny, a love, a tragedy, a beginning and an end.

“The final measure of any rider’s skill is the inverse ratio of his preferred Traveling Speed to the number of bad scars on his body.”
– Hunter S. Thompson

Read O’Brien’s full statement below:

People of Earth:

In the last few days, I’ve been getting a lot of sympathy calls, and I want to start by making it clear that no one should waste a second feeling sorry for me. For 17 years, I’ve been getting paid to do what I love most and, in a world with real problems, I’ve been absurdly lucky. That said, I’ve been suddenly put in a very public predicament and my bosses are demanding an immediate decision.

Six years ago, I signed a contract with NBC to take over The Tonight Show in June of 2009. Like a lot of us, I grew up watching Johnny Carson every night and the chance to one day sit in that chair has meant everything to me. I worked long and hard to get that opportunity, passed up far more lucrative offers, and since 2004 I have spent literally hundreds of hours thinking of ways to extend the franchise long into the future. It was my mistaken belief that, like my predecessor, I would have the benefit of some time and, just as important, some degree of ratings support from the prime-time schedule. Building a lasting audience at 11:30 is impossible without both.

But sadly, we were never given that chance. After only seven months, with my Tonight Show in its infancy, NBC has decided to react to their terrible difficulties in prime-time by making a change in their long-established late night schedule.

Last Thursday, NBC executives told me they intended to move the Tonight Show to 12:05 to accommodate the Jay Leno Show at 11:35. For 60 years the Tonight Show has aired immediately following the late local news. I sincerely believe that delaying the Tonight Show into the next day to accommodate another comedy program will seriously damage what I consider to be the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting. The Tonight Show at 12:05 simply isn’t the Tonight Show. Also, if I accept this move I will be knocking the Late Night show, which I inherited from David Letterman and passed on to Jimmy Fallon, out of its long-held time slot. That would hurt the other NBC franchise that I love, and it would be unfair to Jimmy.

So it has come to this: I cannot express in words how much I enjoy hosting this program and what an enormous personal disappointment it is for me to consider losing it. My staff and I have worked unbelievably hard and we are very proud of our contribution to the legacy of The Tonight Show. But I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is its destruction. Some people will make the argument that with DVRs and the Internet a time slot doesn’t matter. But with the Tonight Show, I believe nothing could matter more.

There has been speculation about my going to another network but, to set the record straight, I currently have no other offer and honestly have no idea what happens next. My hope is that NBC and I can resolve this quickly so that my staff, crew, and I can do a show we can be proud of, for a company that values our work.

Have a great day and, for the record, I am truly sorry about my hair; it’s always been that way.

Yours,

Conan

We shall see what happens.

Tiger can emerge from this meltdown as what Tom Wolf might call “a man in full,” a complete human being, flawed and filled with needs, as we all are.

The old Tiger was a child trying to live up to others’ expectations. The real Tiger is a man choosing to live his own life.

I own a large motorcycle forum, based in Las Vegas, Nevada, which is where this spambot attack occurred. The spambot was traced to Beijing, China – it posted up 5 posts, all spam, but one of them was absolutely hilarious and used the term “soda jerker” so before deleting it, I had to quote it:

We had a number of close calls that day. When we rose, it was obviously late and we had to hurry so as not to miss breakfast; we knew the dining room staff was strict about closing at nine o’clock. Then, when we had been driving in the desert for nearly two hours —— it must have been close to noon —— the heat nearly hid us in; the radiator boiled over and we had to use most of our drinking water to cool it down. By the time we reached the mountain, it was our o’clock and we were exhausted. Here, judgement ran out of us and we started the tough climb to the summit, not realizing that darkness came suddenly in the desert. Sure enough, by six we were struggling and Andrew very nearly went down a steep cliff, dragging Mohammed and me along with him. By nine, when the wind howled across the flat ledge of the summit, we knew as we shivered together for warmth that it had not been our lucky day.

From a distance, wow power leveling,it looked like a skinny tube, but as we got closer, we could see it flesh out before our eyes. It was tubular, all right, but fatter than we could see from far away. Furthermore, we were also astonished to notice that the building was really in two parts: a pagoda sitting on top of a tubular one-story structure. Standing ten feet away, we could marvel at how much of the pagoda was made up of glass windows. Almost everything under the wonderful Chinese roof was made of glass, unlike the tube that it was sitting on, which only had four. Inside, the tube was gloomy, because of the lack of light. Then a steep, narrow staircase took us up inside the pagoda and the light changed dramatically. All those windows let in a flood of sunshine and we could see out for miles across the flat land.
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If you work as a soda jerker, you will, of course, not need much skill in expressing yourself to be effective. If you work on a machine, your ability to express yourself will be of little importance. But as soon as you move one step up from the bottom, your effectiveness depends on your ability to reach others through the spoken or the written word. And the further away your job is from manual work, the larger the organization of which you are an employee, the more important it will be that you know how to convey your thoughts in writing or speaking. In the very large business organization, whether it is the government, the large corporation, or the Army, this ability to express oneself is perhaps the mos do not understand why people confuse my Siamese cat, Prissy, with the one I had several years ago, Henry. The two cats are only alike in breed. Prissy, a quiet, feminine feline, loves me dearly but not possessively. She likes to keep her distance from people, exert her aoc power leveling independence and is never so rude as to beg, lick, or sniff unceremoniously. Her usual posture is sitting upright, eyes closed, perfectly still. Prissy is a very proper cat. Henry, on the other hand, loved me dearly but possessively. He was my shadow from morning till night. He expected me to constantly entertain him. Henry never cared who saw him do anything, whether it was decorous or not, and he usually offended my friends in some way. The cat made himself quite comfortable, on the top of the television, across stranger’s feet or laps, in beds, drawers, sacks, closets, or nooks. The difference between them is imperceptible to strangerst important of all the skills a man can possess

We had a number of close calls that day

Taken from the website: Sin City Sportbikes – Motorcycle rides and riders in the Las Vegas, Nevada region. You can also follow Sin City Sportbikes on Twitter and Facebook.