I have lived in the city I grew up in for 50 years. I have not had one positive encounter with our local PD. I have no record at all. All calls were for help. Watched a guy break into my neighbors house, called to report it, ended up slamming the phone down after they refused to send a car.
Wife and daughter witnessed a guy being beaten with a bat, called for help, no response, Rescue arrived before cops. Guy ended up dying.
3 punks chased my mom into her house (she was in her late 70's), she called PD, no response.
Last year I found a set of keys and a bank debit card laying in my side yard. Called to report it, cop came out. He was more interested in the fact that I have had no contact with any police agency. WTF.
None of your calls generate enough revenue. Now shut up and go run a stop sign.
Ben550- I live in a southern suburb bordering Detroit. Flint is about 90 minutes north of me. Well aware of what happened there. Scary cause it's happening everywhere around here.
Paulages- Got the pedal to the metal, beer in one hand, joint in the other, texting my peeps. Rock and Roll.
On a BSA? 
Tried it but the vibrations made the beer foam all over the bike. Still don't know where the cell phone fell off (along with the horn). I love it !
Oh, the rattling twins. Ok, official thread derailment...
Best Triumph fall off story for me: I was riding down a nearby windy road and the right muffler fell off! Suddenly the bike got a LOT louder, but it took me a while to find a safe place to turn around. Once I managed to find it, I had no way to reattach it, and had to ride home with the muffler stuffed down the back of my jacket.
Best BSA story: Dunstall pipes on my '71 Thunderbolt, competition megas with no baffles, so I had made my own baffles. Driving down I-5 right through downtown Portland, suddenly the pipe gets a LOT louder (I know, there's a theme here) and I realize that the set screw had come out and the baffle blown out. Oh well, I thought, I could just make another... but then a car comes flying up along side me screaming that I had blown the baffle right onto their hood. WHOOPS.
Best Norton story: On a windy forest highway in pouring rain one cylinder goes out... eventually while pegging it on one cylinder praying that the engine wouldn't die and strand me I fiddled around with my left hand and figured out that the carb had separated from the head. The vibrations (violent shaking) from the engine had worked the bolts loose, and the carb had fallen off held on only by the fuel line and vacuum crossover tube. I held the carb to the head for 15 more miles, in pouring rain on twisty, twisty roads. When I got to the next town, I ziptied the carb on through the bolt holes, duct taped around the junction, and ran the mixture screws to fully rich. Ran great the rest of the trip!
Oh, gotta love the old brits...
