Content © 2012-2017 by American IronHorse Owners Organization.  Use of AIH Logo Licensed by American Ironhorse, LLC
My Sanctuary One of the best things about being a guy is that, single or whipped, the garage is all ours!  My garage is where a lot of magic happens in the form of seriously cool toys that come to fruition through the application of skills learned over many a foul up, such as when I set the garage on fire or when I drilled clear through a friends finger.  This is where my chopper gets all the love and attention it so richly deserves. I made the mistake of servicing the Halloween crowd this year from the garage.  My idea was that I would work on my various projects between groups of children which would both allow me to be productive and keep an eye out for eggs and flaming bags of doo-doo left on the porch.  It didn’t entirely work.  I failed to consider that many of the children would be accompanied by their parents, i.e.: the father, who was presented with this: It’s not a great picture but you can see the chopper, my mustang and several large remote controlled airplanes.  It was too much coolness for anyone to resist and I had a steady stream of ooh-ing and ahh-ing daddies wanting to check out my stuff.  I didn’t get a damn thing done in the shop that night!  Remember that most of these poor souls are married with children and are therefore not allowed to have awesome things like airplanes and choppers.  No, theirs is the realm of the minivan, soccer practice and saving for college and to see this awesome vision of masculine delights was like water to a man dying of thirst.  My house was the most popular on the block by far, both for the man-toys and the fact that I only do chocolate for Halloween.  My mom, being a registered nurse, was all about health and, much to my embarrassment as a child, would hand out apples and other nutritious snacks.  I mean, come on – what a crappy treat!  This also ruined my credibility in the neighborhood and I swore not to do this to other kids when I grew up. So, the Dads would come up the driveway with a salutation and “What have you got there?” and so it would begin.  Keep in mind that I am not griping about all the attention.  After all, it’s one of the reasons I have all these things.  They would usually stay and chat for 5 minutes or so until greed and avarice overtook the children and they had to move on lest there be trouble.  Of course, the little girls had no interest in any of this.  The men were all about the chopper, by far.  The boys really liked the airplanes, especially my pride and joy, a P-47 Thunderbolt from WWII: And yes, it is as big as it looks.  The wingspan is a little over 5 feet and it flies at over 100 mph.  The Mac- Daddy, though, is the biggest one – a Laser 200 with an 8 foot wingspan: When I buy one it shows up as nothing more than a box of sticks with a canopy, a few other accessories and big sheets of plans to tell you how to build it.  Then comes lots and lots of shop time to get it into the air – usually hundreds of hours depending on the project.  Do I ever crash?  Yes, and it’s known as “re-kitting your aircraft.”  Then there are mid-air collisions, botched landings, flying into trees and I even had one disintegrate all by itself on a high speed pass.  But we don’t like to talk about that…  I have already ordered my next project and will be looking forward to terrorizing the skies with it: http://www.meister-scale.com/ME109/me109-100.html It’s a fun hobby to do and (arguably) a lot cheaper than a therapist.  Merry Christmas, all!
December 14, 2012
Want to contact Fat Max? email Fat Max ...
ORGANIZATION ORGANIZATION OWNERS OWNERS For All American Ironhorse Motorcycle Owners
Fat Max
© 2012-2017   American IronHorse Owners Organization Use of AIH Logo Licensed by American Ironhorse, LLC 
My Sanctuary One of the best things about being a guy is that, single or whipped, the garage is all ours!  My garage is where a lot of magic happens in the form of seriously cool toys that come to fruition through the application of skills learned over many a foul up, such as when I set the garage on fire or when I drilled clear through a friends finger.  This is where my chopper gets all the love and attention it so richly deserves. I made the mistake of servicing the Halloween crowd this year from the garage.  My idea was that I would work on my various projects between groups of children which would both allow me to be productive and keep an eye out for eggs and flaming bags of doo-doo left on the porch.  It didn’t entirely work.  I failed to consider that many of the children would be accompanied by their parents, i.e.: the father, who was presented with this: It’s not a great picture but you can see the chopper, my mustang and several large remote controlled airplanes.  It was too much coolness for anyone to resist and I had a steady stream of ooh-ing and ahh-ing daddies wanting to check out my stuff.  I didn’t get a damn thing done in the shop that night!  Remember that most of these poor souls are married with children and are therefore not allowed to have awesome things like airplanes and choppers.  No, theirs is the realm of the minivan, soccer practice and saving for college and to see this awesome vision of masculine delights was like water to a man dying of thirst.  My house was the most popular on the block by far, both for the man-toys and the fact that I only do chocolate for Halloween.  My mom, being a registered nurse, was all about health and, much to my embarrassment as a child, would hand out apples and other nutritious snacks.  I mean, come on – what a crappy treat!  This also ruined my credibility in the neighborhood and I swore not to do this to other kids when I grew up. So, the Dads would come up the driveway with a salutation and “What have you got there?” and so it would begin.  Keep in mind that I am not griping about all the attention.  After all, it’s one of the reasons I have all these things.  They would usually stay and chat for 5 minutes or so until greed and avarice overtook the children and they had to move on lest there be trouble.  Of course, the little girls had no interest in any of this.  The men were all about the chopper, by far.  The boys really liked the airplanes, especially my pride and joy, a P-47 Thunderbolt from WWII: And yes, it is as big as it looks.  The wingspan is a little over 5 feet and it flies at over 100 mph.  The Mac-Daddy, though, is the biggest one – a Laser 200 with an 8 foot wingspan: When I buy one it shows up as nothing more than a box of sticks with a canopy, a few other accessories and big sheets of plans to tell you how to build it.  Then comes lots and lots of shop time to get it into the air – usually hundreds of hours depending on the project.  Do I ever crash?  Yes, and it’s known as “re-kitting your aircraft.”  Then there are mid-air collisions, botched landings, flying into trees and I even had one disintegrate all by itself on a high speed pass.  But we don’t like to talk about that…  I have already ordered my next project and will be looking forward to terrorizing the skies with it: http://www.meister-scale.com/ME109/me109-100.html It’s a fun hobby to do and (arguably) a lot cheaper than a therapist.  Merry Christmas, all!
December 14, 2012
Want to contact Fat Max? email Fat Max ...
ORGANIZATION ORGANIZATION OWNERS OWNERS
Fat Max