Procrastinet

take off the band-aid, and the skirt. put on your MAN pants and get back on the friggin scooter. A run-in with a shitty driver is going to happen in Manhattan; even if you're a pedestrian just about to hop on the safe and smelly subway. You're just as likely to get hit in a crosswalk, sprain your ankle descending those slippery subway station steps, or be stabbed by a vagrant.
At least on the scooter you could outrun the vagrant.
You're not going to be squished by a bus or struck down by the lords of traffic for tempting fate. The scooter works for you and it is yours, ride it.
"the idea of Max growing up with no Dad because Dad..." will keep inside forever if yer not willing to get back on the horse.

/begin pontification

Once again, Perj is talking out of his lower excretory orifice. Please do not for one second regret retiring the scootch from active Manhattan duty. Be grateful you have been allowed to make this choice. Judging from your description of your accident (one that I'm sure made everyone who reads this and knows you cringe), you almost had the choice made for you. You are absolutely correct that Max needs to have his Dad around more than you need to ride the scootch back and forth to work. And besides, this does not have to be a permanent hiatus. You never know, in 10 or 15 years, you may have that country house you long for, and I'll bet the roads near it won't be so crowded. Good call, RJ. As Michael Corleone once said, "It's the smart play". You always were the smart one.

/pontification over.

Saddle your horse, partner. The sunset's a-comin no matter whether you split rail or huddle in the basement. Best to live in the brightest sunlight while you can.

"Saddle your own horse
Cull your own herd
Bury your own dead"

- Old Cowboy Saying

Scotso:

Thanks for the support!

Perj:

Nice try, Patton. I was actually pleased at your attempted bitchslap, because it had no effect at all which, in turn, made me realize how sure I am about the decision.

And besides, this skirt is fetching and highlights the pretty colors of the bruises-and-abrasions motif I have going on my knees...

Frydry:

Your comment must have come in while I was writing mine, didn't mean to leave you out. Yours is certainly the most poetic of the advice, and without a doubt the one that, if I were a cowboy, I would take... But I am, alas, not a cowboy, but a mild-mannered Urb-Suburban middle class dad...

/begin contrarian rant
oh please!
I was not trying to motivate you, you armchair psychiatrist, and I could not care a dink if you ever rode the scooter again. Imagine if you had worn, I don't know, kneepads, and been more alert. You'd have avoided the idiot with the U-turn, but would have been hit from behind by the other guy. Imagine you'd been in the VW, and no doubt been going faster, the collision would've been inevitable; certain grievous injury. Imagine if you had walked the streets, NO!, too horrible. Best to stay inside and send out missives about how your life is suddenly too dangerous. Best to lament the scratched scooter and new found limp, rather than ask yourself why you thought a souped up rider mower that travels just as low to the ground on wheelbarrow tires, but is NARROWER and unprotected by so much as a reasonable windscreen, would entitle you to speed with the flow of Manhattan traffic, where there are cars and trucks, and U-turning morons. So, I believe that, yes, a scooter is a stupid and dangerous thing to ride; you had better ride it again, you fop; of course Max needs his dad, but you didn't and you aren't gonna die, you sissy. Don't capitalize on your own fear while thumping your chest about it. And you better draw the shades, I hear too much sunlight will give you cancer.
And by the way, lawbot, way to suck up to the dad with responsibilites angle. I've been with you in your sportscar doing 100mph. Where was the pretentious monologue then, or were your swollen balls blocking your hypocrite maw?
I realize I have no actual point, so I will end here.
/end contrarian rant

You're an idiot

- The Management

For now, yes, rest.

And let me know if you want to sell the scoot.

-frydry

(currently riding subway to east village nightly to play the villain in a 19th century melodrama, which accounts for some of the simpleminded poesy.)

Perj, you ignorant slut.

Way to rant incoherently while still maintaining the particularly piquant "responsibility is for losers" slant for which you have become justifiably famous.

Did I state, anywhere in my monograph, that once you have a child you should cease to take any and all risks that might conceivably result in death, dismemberment or disfigurement? I did not. Life is risk. The trick is figuring out which ones to take, and which ones are unnecessary. I was merely stating that I agree with RJ's conclusion that driving a scooter through rush hour, Manhattan traffic probably is an unnecessary risk.

And, for the record, we never hit 100 mph. However, even if we did, approaching that speed in a modern, well-maintained vehicle that is expressly built for the purpose of safely traveling at such speeds is not irresponsible or even dangerous, under the right conditions. Which were in effect at the time of the alleged speed-mongering. Please don't compare this to driving a scooter on a rain-slicked street in rush-hour Manhattan traffic. Do scooters have antilock brakes? Traction control? Airbags? Seatbelts? Four wheels wearing high performance tires? Engineered crumple zones and high strength alloy steel frames? Apples to apples, please.

The "dad-with-responsibilities angle", as you so aptly titled the theme of this particular post-fest, WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF RJ'S ORIGINAL POST. In my response, I was merely stating that I agreed with him, and that your attempt to impugn his manhood because of his conclusion was misguided, childish and immature. From your response, I can assume that my message was received.

So, in conclusion, shut your pie hole.

you want apples to apples?
apple is to apple as man who delighted to be trapped in a room full of his own farts is to lawbot.

And yes, I stand corrected, we only got up to 95mph in your phallus mobile, and the conditions were perfectly safe, that's why you kept apologizing for hotdogging and offered to slow down. And it cornered like a pregnant cow.

And while you both lick each others hind quarters congratulating yourselves on the newly realized responsibilites of a dad, I'm at home fulfilling them, raising two kids by myself for most of the day, and then working some of the time. I don't have riches, but I am happy as a clam, and it is for that, that I have become so justifiably famous. I realize that it is your teeth grinding envy of this that has you constantly citing the Dad rulebook, reading all your self-written rules aloud, so that you can think yourself a hero, but man, you're just another schmuck with a 9 to 5, just like I'm only a schmuck with a part time job, and RJ's just a schmuck who won't ride a bike now because he probably never got life insurance when he became a dad.
See? Apples to apples to schmuck. New rule.
damn, still can't seem to make a point, but this is fun.

I shouldn't, but I just can't stop myself. Sigh.

Recognizing that at this point, we are probably the only two people who even care about our little exercise in rhetoric and discourse...

Wow. Hit a little close to a tender spot, I guess. You are defending yourself against an accusation that has not been made against you, sir. Never did I mean to state or even imply that you are not fulfilling your responsibilities as a father. Even admitting that I am, indeed, just another schmuck with a 9 to 5, how is that fact, or the fact that you stay at home and raise your children, even remotely relevant? I thought we were debating whether riding a scooter was an unnecessary risk. I did not realize we were also debating the relative merits of your chosen employment and lifestyle versus mine. That is not a debate I care to have, however. To each his own, and more power to you. I do not envy you because I do not envy anyone. It is a waste of time.

HOWEVER, since you did accuse me of hypocrisy in a prior post, I will accuse you of the same crime. Please do not ever ridicule my choice of big boy toys, unless you wish to shatter the windows of your particular glass house of hobbies by throwing such stones. You seem obsessed with my car. Yes, it is fast, and I do drive it that way. I do not do so unsafely or irresponsibly. It is not, nor has it ever been, a phallus replacement. If that were the case, I would have bought a Corvette. It is a toy, like a scooter, or a home entertainment system, or a staggering, Library-of-Congress-like collection of pornogr-er, guita-er, music. As I said, to each his own.

Because it seems to have escaped you to this point, allow me to restate: RJ decided that scooters are a little too dangerous for him these days. I agreed with that choice. You ridiculed it, ridiculed me for agreeing with it, and continue to do so, in the process determining that I have appointed myself the world's great arbiter of paternal responsiblity fulfillment. Nothing could be further from the truth. As Chris Rock once said, and I paraprhase, "so you're taking care of your kids, so what? What do you want, a cookie? You're supposed to take care of your kids!".

Your cookie will be in the mail tomorrow, sir. Chocolate chip, or oatmeal?

(and yes, this is a blast...too much fun. Nice to see that we still don't take ourselves to seriously)

OK BOYS

I can't imagine what your response would be if you actually gave birth to these children. But I digress.....

You have a choice as a dad (parent) you can be the Steve Irwin dad, the guy who made the choice of living each day to the fullest and taking constant risk and well sadly we know how that turned out. You can be the bubble dad, with kids who have no idea how to take risks. They live each day living in fear untii the one day someone tries something like, drinking coke with pop rocks and dies (I swear it happened) .
But maybe, just maybe, you could try to live in the middle, find a girl who will smack you in the head when you are being an ass, and allow you to have your toys and fun but remember this everything you do is an example to your kids, the good the bad and the risky. For one day they will throw it back in your face when you are trying to parent, WELL YOU HAD A ___________________ (insert risky item) and YOUR STILL ALIVE.

Good luck gentlemen your passion and chest thumping gives me hope for the next generation

I make this statement taking neither side, truth is I just think you both like to argue and use big words...............

Exactly! "WELL YOU HAD A ___________________ (insert risky item) and YOUR STILL ALIVE"
This is my point (I think). WELL YOU HAD A scooter, um, no, a tall ladder, no? a pocket knife? Jeez dad didn't you have anything good? and YOUR STILL ALIVE. I think guys need a little something dangerous in their past, so they can look at their sons with a certain gravitas on their faces when they have to tell them to be careful. You need the experience there so you can look honest, so they'll have a chance of listening, but you can't do it in a skirt. So RJ could have the, Once I spilled my scooter, which was too dangerous to ride in the city anyway, but I got right back on it, and rode it more responsibly. Or he can have the, Once I fell off my scooter and I NEVER rode it again, but I did it for you. Max will say "pfff, that's gay! Jeez Dad!"

Whereas lawbot can say "yes, I had a sportscar, but I only went fast when it was safe, or when I wanted to impress my friends, but everyone knows I'm really a grownup, dammit! Oh, and I play video games to the point of detriment to my hygiene, but I'm still a grownup and you can't make fun of my toys. I'm an adult and don't touch my stuff." And lawbot junior still won't understand why he can't set off fireworks in the garage.

And I can say "get away from my porn, my cd's, and my guitars!! they're mine! didn't all that time we spent together teach you anything? Let me out of this house! I should have gone to law school." and my kids will slowly back away from me.

I do not disparage Lawbot's chosen career, or choice of toys, I merely tell him why I am "justifiably famous" for mine, and I use his as its greatest contrast. I like chocolate chip, by the way, if you can tear yourself away from WOW (which you run in the background of whatever lawyering you're doing, I know it) long enough to get down to a Mrs. Fields...

And to Mrs Lawbot, I love you dearly, but you should know, that any woman who tries to arbitrate between two guys who are showboating, eventually gets called a rude, rude name...and then it's on!

to rj, you should ride the scooter again.

I'm going to put myself in the way of all sorts of abuse, and actually address something substantive in Perj's retarded silverback ranting and grunting:

"but I got right back on it, and rode it more responsibly..."

...betrays a fundamental ignorance of what we're talking about here. The only thing that would have kept me out of the accident this weekend would have been, um, not being there. Or the pavement not being wet. Or the assclown in the Tribeca not pulling out in front of me. Notice how only one of those is actually under my control?

And to reach back to an earlier poo-flinging session:

"Imagine you'd been in the VW, and no doubt been going faster, the collision would've been inevitable; certain grievous injury."

None of this is true. The scooter is faster than car traffic; the VW can stop on wet pavement; even in the event of an accident, t-boning someone in a car with airbags at 30 mph would almost certainly not result in grievous injury.

I know it's irrelevent to actually make an argument when all you're doing is swinging your dick around, but I couldn't resist.

The argument, not your dick.

Nevermind.

"I don't wanna go outside! It's scary. Where's my teddy bear?"

Can we just prevent that?

Leave my fucking teddy bear out of this or I'll bust you in the nuts.

see? now it got personal. now everything is ruined.

since nobody is reading this one anymore, I would like to add that lawbot is a douchebag. and now i've had the last word.

No, no you didn't. Because I can take the last word and then turn off comments. Like this.