Al Pacino said it best in The Godfather III: "Just when you think you’re out they pull you back in."

Please excuse me if I pass on the motorcycle, even if it does include the manual.

Spring has sprung, as evidenced by he infrequent return of the Midwest Mastandrea. Winter has thawed and been replaced by tornadic storms and floods. After a couple of months of hell (two days off in March and four days off in April) I'm actually catching up. Three weekends ago we replaced the trees killed by the drought. Two weekends ago I tilled the garden. This past weekend I fenced the garden. Now I need to plant a fig tree where the deer can't get to it.

I didn't see any updates since the announcement of the Weinermobile contest. I too thought of Steve immediately when I hearda bout the contest. No, I don't have any connection with the people running the contest (although Blair is less than 50 miles from where I live). What's the status of your entries? They're due by the end of July.

There isn't much new going on here, which generally leaves me thankful. I'll be awake in 6 hours and at work in 8 hours so good night, Mastandreas, where ever you are.

It's a question that nags at me for no good reason. To set it up we must go back to a distant time (a good 20 years), a distant land (38th Street in Brooklyn), and a late hour of a summer evening.

My brother and I were outside with Otto and Phyllis, maybe others but I can't recall. I can't remember any of what we were talking about, but we laughed until our sides hurt. For some reason, my brother had brought out a big yellow flashlight -- we were looking for something in the dark and not having any luck finding it. In doing so, we somehow managed to lose the lens of the flashlight (not sure why we would have unscrewed the cover, but apparently we did and the lens got away from us).

We then spent the next few minutes (or hours, for all I could tell) searching, in vain, for the clear plastic lens that had mysteriously hidden itself in the darkess beneath the soft amber light of the lamp-post.

Eventually we gave up and repositioned ourselves on the hood of a parked car, to tell more jokes, start to look at our watches and comment on how late it had become.

The laughter was finally ebbing, the night winding down, when the Russian livery driver from the next house drove up and started to park his car across the street from us. After backing in, he turned his front wheels toward the curb and inched the car forward --

Crunch!

We looked at each other and tried to say "Found it!" but we were doubled-over with laughter, unable to talk through our convulsions.

The question that lingers, albeit unnecessarily, is this:

What the hell were we originally looking for that made us bring out that flashlight?
No one remembers. That is, I don't. Phyllis and Joe, understandably, don't even remember our being out that night. But I do. And I need closure!

Maybe Otto would remember...

Last registered/operated in 1996, this majestic heap of rust was once the classic superbike Honda CB750, vintage 1973. Can you salvage anything from this low-mileage, storm-tossed beauty? Place your bets carefully: this "as-is" sale is final.

To help you decide, here are the facts:

Got the bike in 1990 and set about several much-needed improvements:

- new fork seals/fluids (both front and back are squishy now)
- new seat (but the metal base pan has rust-perforations at the edges, so only expect to salvage the still-intact cushion/vinyl)
- replacement pipes/muffler (couldn't find originals, so I put on some POS 4-1 and had to remove the center-stand which is here and part of the deal)
- tires (didn't put many miles on them, but they're almost 15 years old, so don't expect much grip)
- electronic ignition (I still have the original points-plate -- it's yours)
- paint job on the gas tank, a sweet glossy black, but there's a nasty ding on the left side (don't ask)
- new front-brake calipers (barely any miles on them -- I rebuilt the brake cylinder right before parking the bike for the last time, as if to make it final)

This bike has been stored outdoors -- under a canvas cover, but still outside. There's rust everywhere. I assume there's rust inside too. I did peek under the valve covers and everything looked as-new clean (for whatever that's worth). All the chrome trim has rust specks (some rust trim has chrome specks, as with the handlebars). Frame seems intact, but there are spots with rust exposure.

The lucky purchaser of this motorcycle also gets:

- Haynes manual
- CB750 coffee-table book (nice photos!)
- new chain (never got to install it)
- some lens-covers for the directionals
- stock mirrors (and the lower-profile replacements I had been using)
- original tool kit and user manual
- points-plate

Come and get it. Don't everyone contact me at once.

This motorcycle is shot. Hauled it back from Larchmont on Thursday, and finally got to poking around yesterday. More rust than hope. The engine won't turn, the carbs are gummed, the chrome is... gone.

It's about what you'd expect for a bike that hasn't been run since 1996.

I'll decide soon whether I want to take the time to tear down the engine and get it running (I bet I can -- but it'll cost time and money). Or maybe I'll just sell it for parts (if anyone wants it). I see eBay charges $30 to list a motor vehicle -- hope I can make that back!

The closest we have to any sort of plan is to drive that giant sculpture of non-Halal meat into the center of Fallujah and demand that the Ba'ath loyalists sue for pease. Otherwise: poisonous nitrate-preservative clouds, as far as the eye can see...

It's not likely to win the contest (but could win the war).

I forwarded the contest link to Oakley in London, assuring him that I'd pick him up from his office if we win. Sure hope that rig floats.

This announcement is for all -- but is pointed especially at you, Steve.

Alane handed me the entry form last week, thinking there was something I could do with it. But I do not feel worthy.

In short, the Weinermobile is available as part of an Oscar Mayer promo event.

This is our chance to drive the frigging Weinermobile! Steve, this is your childhood dream (childhood, in this case, being what you're still in the throes of). All we have to do is say what we'd do with it.

Though, I suppose we'd have to be a bit circumspect in telling them what we would do with such a cool ride. I mean, what we would really do.

I am gripped with the situation's potential. But I feel so unworthy.