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Organization: College of Veterinary Medicine
Date: Thu, 18 Jul 1996 11:12:54 EDT
Subject: Andrzej sighting...
From: "Dana L. Morris"
Well, my phone rang at 5:00 this morning. I'm totally asleep,
thinking it's about midnight. It's Andrzej, who says "I'm real sorry
I woke you up, but could you please come open the gate?"
"Huh?"
"I'm outside, would you please come open
the gate?"
He rode 1,300 miles in 23 hours. (Yes, Joan,
you have my permission to hassle him about that.) I had say I'll be offline
for a couple of days! C'yall.....
Danamania
"Never underestimate the effectiveness
of a good taunting."
Mr. Bumpy
--------------------------------------------
Date: Mon, 22 Jul 1996 22:28:25 +0000
Subject: Andrzej Sighting #312
From: "Steve Madden"
Saturday evening... another hot, summer day
in St. Petersburg, Florida. The air is unusually still tonight.... there's
an almost rancid quality to it. A quality not common to St. Pete, since
it is situated on a peninsula surrounded by the Gulf and Tampa Bay and
is usually blessed with a refreshing sea breeze. I have that feeling in
my gut... you know the one. The feeling that something is terribly wrong...
or something bad is about to happen.
Steve & Andrzej with Violent Violet
My unknown fears are realized as I stand in
my driveway... and hear the approaching rumble of a V-Twin. What was simply
a feeling of impending doom... is explained and quantified.... it is now
crystal clear.... as Andrzej and the Danamaniac slow in front of my house,
then turn into my drive! Oh lord! What have I done to deserve this??
Andrzej kills the motor.... he swings a leg
over the bike as if in slow motion as Dana is already off and removing
her helmet. He nods in my direction and it seems an eternity before he
speaks. A slow smile spreads across his face, revealing that rhinestone
embedded tooth. At that point I breath a sigh of relief as I understand
that I probably won't die a slow horrific death THIS evening. In some
semblance of courtesy... a trait I understand is not common for him...
he introduces himself.
I recognize Dana from various posters I've
seen over time... particularly in Post Offices. Not introduced.... she
stands quietly in the background. I sense that she knows not to talk until
Andrzej gives his approval. There is kind of a sad quality about her.
Her eyes give her away. I then realize that she is NOT the person widely
characterized by the media and Digesters as a corrupt, incorrigible, larcenous,
and insidious biker. She almost appears to be at Andrzej's side against
her will... helpless and powerless to escape his hulking, overwhelming
presence. As Andrzej leans over to unpack his gear, eye contact is made
for a fleeting instance between Dana and myself. Her eyes have a desperate
look that cry out for help. It's a look that she must control well...
and that I won't see again.
Dana & Andrzej
 My
thoughts of Dana's plight is broken by an animalistic grunting. A single
command of "beer!" is barked in my direction. The time spent
in the wilds of Canada is apparent in Andrzej's speech patterns. Stories
that he converses with wildlife and his huskies more than with human beings
no longer seem so incredulous to me.
Retreating to my house... we sit crossed-legged
on the floor in the living room and make crude attempts at communications.
Yanking on Dana's collar when his glass is empty, she arises with a start,
whimpering as she scurries off to the refrigerator to fetch another pint.
As the smoke from the camp fire Andrzej lit is starting to fill the house,
breathing becomes more difficult... so we decide to go out to eat.
We fire up the Harleys and head out over the
Sunshine Skyway in search of vittles. As we approach the toll booth, Andrzej
motions me to fall in behind him. I soon know why.... he hardly slows
as the gray battleship of a Harley splinters the toll booth arm into a
billion toothpicks. He simply does not believe in paying tolls!
Arriving at the Sand Bar restaurant in Ana
Maria Island, we search the packed lot for a place to park the two bikes.
It seems that the only spots are at the bicycle rack. Residing there are
a mountain bike and a totally rusted out 750 UJM. To make more room for
the Harleys, Andrzej heaves the mountain bike into the weeds and has Dana
roll the UJM over to the dumpster.
The crowd at the restaurant parts like the
Red Sea as we enter. The hostess nervously informs us the wait for a table
will be about one and a half hours. But as she speaks, the crowd begins
to rapidly thin out. In a matter of moments, we are the only customers
waiting! Andrzej glares at the hostess, Cuban cigar clenched tightly in
his teeth, as she asks "smoking or non-smoking". "I'm sorry
sir.... smoking it is!" she stammers.
Big 'n Black!
Seated on the deck overlooking the gulf, we
are enjoying the sights while the band plays our Burt Bacarach and Barry
Manilow favorites. As Andrzej chews on the raw liver he always orders..
I notice that Dana seems a bit perturbed by some women dancing behind
me. Seems that their asses are a little too close to the back of my head.
Doesn't bother me any... but Dana apparently thinks it should... as she
"assists" the women in an abrupt flight from the deck to join
the Baptism taking place on the beach below us. Right about that time...
some unlucky soul comes up to Andrzej, asking him if he "trailered"
his bike down from Ontario. Pure pandemonium ensues. "Smoke on the
water, fire in the sky" is at best an understatement of what we saw
as we rode away from the ill-fated restaurant! The yellow glow of the
Sunshine Skyway bridge was a welcome sight as we approached St. Petersburg.
Sunday morning... our heads finally cleared...
found us riding to Robby's Pancake House on Treasure Island. Andrzej graciously
allowed one old gentleman to sit near us as the fellow indicated he has
a Harley on order. After eating, we fire up the bikes and cruise the beaches...
Treasure Island, St. Petersburg Beach, and Pass-a-Grille Beach. Leaving
the beaches... I thought... as long as they were in the tourist mode,
that they may enjoy seeing Ft. DeSoto. The fort was built about 20 years
ago to protect Tampa Bay from marauding Canadians. It is obviously ineffective.
Dana's eyes light up as she sees the large, cylindrical, cannons... one
of which is pointed bolt upright. Andrzej senses the photo op... and commands
Dana to pose "appropriately" on the cannon. She doesn't object.
I understand pics will be available on a first-come, first-serve basis.
At the Dali Museum
Sunday afternoon finds us at the Salvador Dali
museum. Andrzej obviously relates to the twisted, surrealistic style of
the artist. He no doubt feels a special "kinship" to the dead
artist as he believes himself to be the reincarnation of Dali's dead brother...
and he would certainly enjoy adding some of Dali's work to his extensive
collection of shrunken heads, pogs, and Ford Mustang grille ornaments.
In a rather brash move, he starts asking questions about the building's
security system.... and how it might be beat. I notice more and more security
guards moving in on us. Realizing he has been found out... he yells "screw
the security!" and pounces on Dali's masterwork of the crucifixion.
Fighting off the guards Andrzej stuffs the work into his shirt.... crashes
through the window and is away on his bike in two seconds!! Of course...
we claim that we have no idea who this mad canuck may be. Obviously feeling
sorry for us, they give us a couple of Salvador Dali souvenir bathmats
and send us on our way!
Steve dusting his Violent Violet!!!
Riding on the back of my bike... Dana loosens
up and comments on how nice it is to be riding on a "real" motorcycle.
I don't know what she's leading up to... maybe it's just 'cause my bike
is clean. All I know is we'll be at my house in a couple of minutes and
I'm sure Andrzej will be waiting to take Dana back. So I just nod and
make a beeline for my house. I'm thinking to myself... "so this is
one of the benefits of subscribing to the Digest??!!" Think I'll
go into seclusion for a couple of years after this.
smadden@digital.net
'96 XL1200S
Violent Violet
------------------------------
Organization: College of Veterinary Medicine
Date: Tue, 23 Jul 1996 14:49:20 EDT
Subject: Andrzej sighting cont....
From: "Dana L. Morris"
Rick Connoly says:
>> Well, 1,300 miles in 23 hours that
averages out to 56.5 mph. But
>> this an't no truck. The o'WG will need to fuel up every two hours
>> for at least 15 minutes
15 minutes??? What do you do, Rick, write a
piano concerto every time you stop for gas??? ;^}
>> Impressive,
>> most impressive.
I thought so too!
>> Of course everything from the neck
down would be
>> mush....
Um, just one word here. NOT. ;^}
Danamania
Andrzej is on his way home now, and I am crabby
and lonely. Somebody please say something stupid so I can flame 'em, ok?
We had a great time in St. Petersburg visiting
Steve "Violent Violet Sporty" Madden. Thanks for the hospitality
and the great time! Glad we could show you around. ;^} (I am such a tourist!)
The Salvador Dali Museum was phenomenal, I highly recommend it. Off to
work now, I am swamped....ride safe all..
------------------------------
Subject: Sturgis get-together, Andrzej sighting,
and dancing ghost
Date: Wed, 24 Jul 1996 08:41:45 GMT
Reply-To: marchant@linex.com
From: marchant@linex.com (Jon Marchant)
Steve Madden sez:
>Andrzej and the Danamaniac slow in front of my house, then turn into
my
>drive! Oh lord! What have I done to deserve this??
Steve, be afraid. Be very afraid. Rumor has
it that the Abominable Snowcannibal will be trying to infiltrate Sturgis
also. Even among a quarter of a million motorcyclists, he should stand
out like, well, a Visigoth in a nunnery.
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