Post by oldchopperguy on Jun 12, 2013 10:49:12 GMT -5
Ode to the Chinese Scooter…
I’m just a Chinese scooter, nothing more. And nothing less.
I'm not the WORST of man’s designs, but then, I'm not the BEST.
My wheels are square, my welds are not, my fuel-lines fill my carb with rot.
There’s cow-dung in my brake-lines, and barn-grit in my oil…
My spark and timing “iffy” with my CDI and coil.
My brittle plastic panels hide stripped threads and pieces broken…
And parts that seem like oat-meal, and card-board. No, I’m not jokin’…
Oft built by little children forced to labor in a shack,
Or maybe even in a cave, with Commie guards out back…
My parts are crude and obsolete, and really sorta rough,
Not made from high-tech alloy, but rather "other stuff”.
Pry me from my shipping crate, and you’ll begin to cuss…
To make me run, you’ll have to learn to wrench, and tweak and fuss…
You’ll need some proper tools for me, residing on your bench:
Some “J.B. Weld and duct-tape, and a great-big impact-wrench.
But after that re-jetting, new valve-stems and electronics,
Air-filter, plug, exhaust and bulbs, instructions in “ebonics”…
Your pride-of-ownership begins… I now seem almost nifty!
Good gosh, when on a slight down-hill, I now do over FIFTY!
When I crap out and get pushed home, and make you think “THIS SUCKS!”
Remember then my humble price of just a thousand-bucks…
My socialistic homeland keeps my sticker-price SO low.
No more than Cushman Eagles cost some FIFTY YEARS AGO!
But on those days when I run right, you’ll cruise to “Wally World”
For cold beer, Dog and Cat-Chow, and every boy and girl
Will smile, and ask you “what’s that thing put-putting under you?”
Then, pat me lovingly and say:
“the RED... in my red, white and blue…”
I’m just a Chinese scooter, nothing more. And nothing less.
I'm not the WORST of man’s designs, but then, I'm not the BEST.
My wheels are square, my welds are not, my fuel-lines fill my carb with rot.
There’s cow-dung in my brake-lines, and barn-grit in my oil…
My spark and timing “iffy” with my CDI and coil.
My brittle plastic panels hide stripped threads and pieces broken…
And parts that seem like oat-meal, and card-board. No, I’m not jokin’…
Oft built by little children forced to labor in a shack,
Or maybe even in a cave, with Commie guards out back…
My parts are crude and obsolete, and really sorta rough,
Not made from high-tech alloy, but rather "other stuff”.
Pry me from my shipping crate, and you’ll begin to cuss…
To make me run, you’ll have to learn to wrench, and tweak and fuss…
You’ll need some proper tools for me, residing on your bench:
Some “J.B. Weld and duct-tape, and a great-big impact-wrench.
But after that re-jetting, new valve-stems and electronics,
Air-filter, plug, exhaust and bulbs, instructions in “ebonics”…
Your pride-of-ownership begins… I now seem almost nifty!
Good gosh, when on a slight down-hill, I now do over FIFTY!
When I crap out and get pushed home, and make you think “THIS SUCKS!”
Remember then my humble price of just a thousand-bucks…
My socialistic homeland keeps my sticker-price SO low.
No more than Cushman Eagles cost some FIFTY YEARS AGO!
But on those days when I run right, you’ll cruise to “Wally World”
For cold beer, Dog and Cat-Chow, and every boy and girl
Will smile, and ask you “what’s that thing put-putting under you?”
Then, pat me lovingly and say:
“the RED... in my red, white and blue…”
Main Jet
Theres a guy driving a mint condition Yugo around here...Ill bet he can fix ANYTHING!!!!
