BEST OF JODY’S BOX: THE TRUE DEFINITION OF A TECHNOPHOBE

BY JODY WEISEL

They tell me the world is a better place thanks to the microwave, answering machine, ATM banking, cell phones and computers. These modern inventions, among many others, have been ranked in recent surveys as major contributors in making the lives of everyday Americans more enjoyable. But, I’m not so sure that they do.

I doubt that incinerating a potato in less than a minute equals the joy of smelling a spud cooking in one of those antiquated oven-things. I’m uncertain that having messages left on my phone by people I never wanted to talk to in thefirst place is better than the bliss of missing a phone call from an insurance salesman. Money had meaning when I had to go into the bank and prove to a suspicious teller that I was who I said I was (not to mention commiserating with all the other people in line who were wondering “why is it taking so long?”)—now money pops out of vending machines like so many pieces of Bazooka Joe from a bubble gum machine. And the computer is such a marvelous time saver that most hard-core users can’t tear themselves away from it long enough to enjoy the time savings—they’re too busy downloading pictures of Taylor Swift’s head on Arnold Schwarzenegger’s body (or other less titillating combinations).

How did I come by my distrust of technological improvements? That’s easy. I race motorcycles. That fact alone makes me distrust the “next new thing.” I can prove it.

Forks: Each year the manufacturers tell you this year’s forks are “better,” “more sophisticated,” “improved” and have “larger diameter tubes.” Yet, each year you have to send your new wonder forks off to have them revalved by the same old guy with a handful of wave washers and a quart of fork oil. Bigger fork legs just cost more to UPS to a suspension shop.

Shocks: On new models they always tout that they have developed “the shock with a brain” as part of their new complicated, but familiar suspension system. If this shock has a brain it came from a beaker labeled “Abby Normal.”

“HAVE YOU READ THE AD COPY FOR GOGGLE LENSES? SUPERMAN’S PARENTS HAD EASIER NAMES TO PRONOUNCE THAN THE STUFF THEY MAKE LENSES OUT OF.”

Carbon Fiber: Carbon Fiber: Recently, I went to a factory that made really cool, molded, carbon fiber parts for motocross bikes. Guess what? They make this high-tech, futuristic, whiz-bang stuff the same way they made my Dad’s 1957 Glasstron bass boat. To me it looks like fiberglass with a catchy name. Face it, before I’d buy a $100 carbon fiber front disc guard to save a few grams, I’d take the stock disc guard off, throw it in the trash and save a pound.

Goggle lenses: Have you read the ad copy for goggle lenses? Superman’s parents had easier names to pronounce than the stuff they make lenses out of. I have a few elemental suggestions for new names of future lens material: Actinium (Greek for ray, like rays of light); Dysprosium (Greek for hard to get at, as in hard to put in the frame); or Lutetium (Latin for Paris, for use at the Paris Supercross only).

Replaceable soles: Many boot companies offer screw-on inserts that allow you to make the soles of your boot brand new. That’s kind of like giving Granny a pair of Air Jordan’s for her birthday. Yes, her feet look young, but the rest of her is still old. Even worse, the first generation of replaceable soles fell off so that you had to replace them before their time. Now, the boot companies glue them on with Osmium (Greek for a really smelly glue) so that it takes a chisel to replace them.

Knee brace leathers: I wear knee braces and because of me (and the percentage of other racers who wear braces), every motocross pant manufacturer in the world made the knee portion of their pants twice as large as they need to be to fit over knee braces—with little or no concern for riders with good knees. I like it, but there is a tug of regret when I see 90 percent of the racers walking around with baggy knees just because of my medial collateral ligament.

Carburetors: In the good old days a racer had to choose between the metered leak of a Bing or the controlled leak of an Amal. My how times have changed! Now you can get poorly jetted carbs with bat wings, two main jets, electronic throttle position sensors and D-shaped slides. And after you learn how to work with all these whiz-bang developments they disappear and are replaced by computer software that nobody knows how to use. That’s what I call progress.

Digital ignitions: We used to have analog ignitions and now we have digital ones. What’s the difference? Try this analogy: When you ask someone, “What time is it?” and they answer “half past six” — that’s analog. If they say 6:31, that’s digital. Got it?

Adjustable damping: Isn’t it amazing that modern suspension components have 20 compression clicks and 19 of them are wrong?

Technophobe: You probably think that I’m a technophobe — not true. Just the opposite. I see opportunity in technology. The world will beat a path to the man who builds a better mousetrap, but the first people to get there will be patent infringement lawyers, workman’s compensation claimants and tax collectors.