2026 Fall Ride, Harrison, Arkansas. October 7-12.

[Dr.D]

Sadly, not possible, they are both out of print. You can buy the Kindle version of my first book on Amazon I believe. (Bargain price of $9.95) I did just check and there is one hard copy available on Amazon for $188, but that's a total rip off from a sketchy book seller.

I have been toying with the notion to combine both books and see about publishing them again in one volume.

Well what to say? The titles and you posts peaked my interest. Thought you might have some extra dusty copies in the basement.

 

[atomsplitter]

Well what to say? The titles and you posts peaked my interest. Thought you might have some extra dusty copies in the basement.

I live in North Texas, no basements here. True story, my next-door neighbors come over from time to time to socialize (i.e. drink my booze) and when I mentioned I had written a couple books during one of their visits, they were a little surprised. A few weeks later they came over and she was carrying a brand-new copy of my first book. As far as I knew it had been out of print for about 6 years so that was a shocker. I of course signed it for her before we got into the heavy drinking.

 

[Dr.D]

I live in North Texas, no basements here. True story, my next-door neighbors come over from time to time to socialize (i.e. drink my booze) and when I mentioned I had written a couple books during one of their visits, they were a little surprised. A few weeks later they came over and she was carrying a brand-new copy of my first book. As far as I knew it had been out of print for about 6 years so that was a shocker. I of course signed it for her before we got into the heavy drinking.

I’ve got a junior hunting buddy that has published a couple of books featuring me in several chapters. Amateur writers are still writers. I would read your stuff. Maybe you could just recite it to me In Arkansas.

 

[Sparky59]

 

[Dr.D]

Thems ain’t cheap.

 

[Nashvegas]

We might need an oral synapses in Arkansas. Dang, it’s Arkansas, is oral really out of the question?

 

[atomsplitter]

I’ve got a junior hunting buddy that has published a couple of books featuring me in several chapters. Amateur writers are still writers. I would read your stuff. Maybe you could just recite it to me In Arkansas.

I think it's about 200 pages and a boat load of stories. How about I just copy and paste you a couple pages here? If you want more, I can add more.

Confessions Of A Motorcycle Nut

Chapter: Legal Insanity

By: Atomsplitter

A few years back a co-worker (Myron) was telling me he had a friend trying to sell an old Yamaha. Myron is afflicted with the bike-bug as bad as I am so I asked what vintage. He said it was an early 70’s XS 650. That immediately flashed memories of my very first bike, a 1974 Yamaha XS 650 that I bought when I was attending Kansas State. Geez, I told him, you ought to snarf that up ASAP before someone else gets it. So a few days later he came into my cubicle (I work in a cube farm) and announced he had acquired the old XS. A 1972 to be exact, and so I cheered him on in his endeavor to renovate the old heap. It was maybe 3 years after his purchase that Myron approached me and said he had a 1972 Yamaha he was trying to sell before his divorce ransacked his garage. I would normally jump at the chance to help a fellow rider in distress, but Myron gets divorced about as often as I buy used junk bikes. Anyway he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse and so I ended up with a stock 1972 XS. Now usually I begin here to tell about the joys and merriment of renovating a dead bike, but that topic has been covered pretty thoroughly so I thought I might bring up something new about buying old bikes. The legal conundrum of getting it titled.

When I picked up the bike from Myron he said he had the title somewhere in the boxes stacked for his legal defense team, so I said I would get back with him when I needed the title to get the bike tagged. Now fast forward about a year and I’m ready for the title because I have spent every nickel I had ever earned getting the bike to a semi-conscious state. So I informed Myron that he needed to dig through his piles of boxes and find the title. He said he would look. Two weeks later he staggers into my cube and says he can’t find it. But he gives me a signed and dated Bill Of Sale in lieu of the title. OK I’ve been through stuff like this before, it’s a pain, but it just takes time and a few bucks to get it sorted. The first thing to do is apply for a lost title. I asked Myron to send to Topeka for the lost title since he was the last owner, which he was glad to do. Three weeks later he comes into my cube with a title but his name isn’t on it. Now I’m not an overly suspicious type of guy, but this looked a little strange because the name on the title was Helen Rifenbark. Myron’s last name isn’t Rifenbark. “What gives?” Well, he explained, he had purchased the bike from a guy who had bought the bike from Helen. Apparently the guy Myron bought it from had never retitled the bike in his name. Myron had never gotten the bike running so he had never tried to title it. Great. Well now I need Helen to sign the title. Myron volunteered to go to Helen’s house and get her to sign it. She’s a little old Myron said so he may have to convince her it’s OK. I said, fine, as long as we keep this legal. Three weeks later Myron stops by my cube and says Helen is hard to get hold of, he’s left messages on her answering machine and knocked on her door a few times. I suggested he send her a letter with a return receipt. Three days later Myron comes into my cube with the latest edition of the local county newspaper. This is not a big deal, except he had the obituary section. We then understood why Helen had been so hard to get hold of. This wasn’t going to be real easy.

I called the DMV in Topeka to ask how one titles a vehicle when the titled owner was deceased. They gave me chapter and verse on the ways of getting it done. Basically you need to resurrect the aforementioned dearly departed and get them to sign the title. So I opted for a different route, let’s apply for a title using the “lost” option. This entails having the State Highway Patrol inspect the vehicle, do a VIN search and then document the vehicle’s ownership. With these documents you can get a new title in your name (for a modest, spleen rupturing fee). So I had to trailer the bike to Coffey County so the Highway Patrol officer could inspect the bike, which he did, and took my check, and gave me pink, white and goldenrod forms to submit to Osage County for title. I happily marched into the Treasurer’s office in Osage County with the forms and applied for the new title. You might think that this would have ended the whole affair, but this is not how legalities, municipalities, and the powers that be operate. About two days after I had submitted the paperwork (and the coin of the realm) for a new title the County Clerk calls me. She informs me that the bike was last titled in Kansas and that my submission of the “lost” title stuff was not “legal.” Crap, OK then, what do I need to do? Her answer, “You have to have the titled owner sign it.” “How do I do that when the owner is dead?” “Excuse me?” she asked. So I explained that Helen Rifenbark had ceased to care about the title of the bike shortly after she had quit breathing permanently. “Well you’re in a pickle.” She stated. “Really, why is that?” “Because the owner needs to sign the title, or I suppose the Executor could sign it.” “And if I don’t have a title?” “Oh, you can apply for a title in Topeka,” she countered. Great. “What about the paperwork I sent in?” “Well,” she said, “the State will send it back to you with a cover letter stating you have to have the titled owner sign the original or duplicate copy.” “OK, “ I said, “what about the registration fees I paid?” “Thanks for shopping Osage County,” she said and hung up. Great. Now I had that duplicate title from Myron, but now I needed to find the Executor to poor Helen’s estate. You know I found out they don’t usually publish that in the Obits. So I had to call the county clerk’s office to find out who the Executor was, and of course they only had the name of the lawyer for the estate. So I called the attorney and asked who the Executor of the estate was. I was informed the deceased’s brother-in-law; Fred Rifenbark who lived in Missouri was the executor. Fabulous. So I got a name and a phone number and called the bother-in-law in Missouri. Well I talked to his wife he was out. She was very sympathetic about my situation and said she would discuss the matter with her husband when he came in. I said I would put the title (Myron had gotten) in the mail with a postage paid return envelope. She said that would be great.

To be continued if you want to read the "rest of the story."

 

[Dr.D]

I think it's about 200 pages and a boat load of stories. How about I just copy and paste you a couple pages here? If you want more, I can add more.

Confessions Of A Motorcycle Nut

Chapter: Legal Insanity

By: Atomsplitter

A few years back a co-worker (Myron) was telling me he had a friend trying to sell an old Yamaha. Myron is afflicted with the bike-bug as bad as I am so I asked what vintage. He said it was an early 70’s XS 650. That immediately flashed memories of my very first bike, a 1974 Yamaha XS 650 that I bought when I was attending Kansas State. Geez, I told him, you ought to snarf that up ASAP before someone else gets it. So a few days later he came into my cubicle (I work in a cube farm) and announced he had acquired the old XS. A 1972 to be exact, and so I cheered him on in his endeavor to renovate the old heap. It was maybe 3 years after his purchase that Myron approached me and said he had a 1972 Yamaha he was trying to sell before his divorce ransacked his garage. I would normally jump at the chance to help a fellow rider in distress, but Myron gets divorced about as often as I buy used junk bikes. Anyway he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse and so I ended up with a stock 1972 XS. Now usually I begin here to tell about the joys and merriment of renovating a dead bike, but that topic has been covered pretty thoroughly so I thought I might bring up something new about buying old bikes. The legal conundrum of getting it titled.

When I picked up the bike from Myron he said he had the title somewhere in the boxes stacked for his legal defense team, so I said I would get back with him when I needed the title to get the bike tagged. Now fast forward about a year and I’m ready for the title because I have spent every nickel I had ever earned getting the bike to a semi-conscious state. So I informed Myron that he needed to dig through his piles of boxes and find the title. He said he would look. Two weeks later he staggers into my cube and says he can’t find it. But he gives me a signed and dated Bill Of Sale in lieu of the title. OK I’ve been through stuff like this before, it’s a pain, but it just takes time and a few bucks to get it sorted. The first thing to do is apply for a lost title. I asked Myron to send to Topeka for the lost title since he was the last owner, which he was glad to do. Three weeks later he comes into my cube with a title but his name isn’t on it. Now I’m not an overly suspicious type of guy, but this looked a little strange because the name on the title was Helen Rifenbark. Myron’s last name isn’t Rifenbark. “What gives?” Well, he explained, he had purchased the bike from a guy who had bought the bike from Helen. Apparently the guy Myron bought it from had never retitled the bike in his name. Myron had never gotten the bike running so he had never tried to title it. Great. Well now I need Helen to sign the title. Myron volunteered to go to Helen’s house and get her to sign it. She’s a little old Myron said so he may have to convince her it’s OK. I said, fine, as long as we keep this legal. Three weeks later Myron stops by my cube and says Helen is hard to get hold of, he’s left messages on her answering machine and knocked on her door a few times. I suggested he send her a letter with a return receipt. Three days later Myron comes into my cube with the latest edition of the local county newspaper. This is not a big deal, except he had the obituary section. We then understood why Helen had been so hard to get hold of. This wasn’t going to be real easy.

I called the DMV in Topeka to ask how one titles a vehicle when the titled owner was deceased. They gave me chapter and verse on the ways of getting it done. Basically you need to resurrect the aforementioned dearly departed and get them to sign the title. So I opted for a different route, let’s apply for a title using the “lost” option. This entails having the State Highway Patrol inspect the vehicle, do a VIN search and then document the vehicle’s ownership. With these documents you can get a new title in your name (for a modest, spleen rupturing fee). So I had to trailer the bike to Coffey County so the Highway Patrol officer could inspect the bike, which he did, and took my check, and gave me pink, white and goldenrod forms to submit to Osage County for title. I happily marched into the Treasurer’s office in Osage County with the forms and applied for the new title. You might think that this would have ended the whole affair, but this is not how legalities, municipalities, and the powers that be operate. About two days after I had submitted the paperwork (and the coin of the realm) for a new title the County Clerk calls me. She informs me that the bike was last titled in Kansas and that my submission of the “lost” title stuff was not “legal.” Crap, OK then, what do I need to do? Her answer, “You have to have the titled owner sign it.” “How do I do that when the owner is dead?” “Excuse me?” she asked. So I explained that Helen Rifenbark had ceased to care about the title of the bike shortly after she had quit breathing permanently. “Well you’re in a pickle.” She stated. “Really, why is that?” “Because the owner needs to sign the title, or I suppose the Executor could sign it.” “And if I don’t have a title?” “Oh, you can apply for a title in Topeka,” she countered. Great. “What about the paperwork I sent in?” “Well,” she said, “the State will send it back to you with a cover letter stating you have to have the titled owner sign the original or duplicate copy.” “OK, “ I said, “what about the registration fees I paid?” “Thanks for shopping Osage County,” she said and hung up. Great. Now I had that duplicate title from Myron, but now I needed to find the Executor to poor Helen’s estate. You know I found out they don’t usually publish that in the Obits. So I had to call the county clerk’s office to find out who the Executor was, and of course they only had the name of the lawyer for the estate. So I called the attorney and asked who the Executor of the estate was. I was informed the deceased’s brother-in-law; Fred Rifenbark who lived in Missouri was the executor. Fabulous. So I got a name and a phone number and called the bother-in-law in Missouri. Well I talked to his wife he was out. She was very sympathetic about my situation and said she would discuss the matter with her husband when he came in. I said I would put the title (Myron had gotten) in the mail with a postage paid return envelope. She said that would be great.

To be continued if you want to read the "rest of the story."

I’ll get back to ya on that.

 

[Dr.D]

I think it's about 200 pages and a boat load of stories. How about I just copy and paste you a couple pages here? If you want more, I can add more.

Confessions Of A Motorcycle Nut

Chapter: Legal Insanity

By: Atomsplitter

A few years back a co-worker (Myron) was telling me he had a friend trying to sell an old Yamaha. Myron is afflicted with the bike-bug as bad as I am so I asked what vintage. He said it was an early 70’s XS 650. That immediately flashed memories of my very first bike, a 1974 Yamaha XS 650 that I bought when I was attending Kansas State. Geez, I told him, you ought to snarf that up ASAP before someone else gets it. So a few days later he came into my cubicle (I work in a cube farm) and announced he had acquired the old XS. A 1972 to be exact, and so I cheered him on in his endeavor to renovate the old heap. It was maybe 3 years after his purchase that Myron approached me and said he had a 1972 Yamaha he was trying to sell before his divorce ransacked his garage. I would normally jump at the chance to help a fellow rider in distress, but Myron gets divorced about as often as I buy used junk bikes. Anyway he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse and so I ended up with a stock 1972 XS. Now usually I begin here to tell about the joys and merriment of renovating a dead bike, but that topic has been covered pretty thoroughly so I thought I might bring up something new about buying old bikes. The legal conundrum of getting it titled.

When I picked up the bike from Myron he said he had the title somewhere in the boxes stacked for his legal defense team, so I said I would get back with him when I needed the title to get the bike tagged. Now fast forward about a year and I’m ready for the title because I have spent every nickel I had ever earned getting the bike to a semi-conscious state. So I informed Myron that he needed to dig through his piles of boxes and find the title. He said he would look. Two weeks later he staggers into my cube and says he can’t find it. But he gives me a signed and dated Bill Of Sale in lieu of the title. OK I’ve been through stuff like this before, it’s a pain, but it just takes time and a few bucks to get it sorted. The first thing to do is apply for a lost title. I asked Myron to send to Topeka for the lost title since he was the last owner, which he was glad to do. Three weeks later he comes into my cube with a title but his name isn’t on it. Now I’m not an overly suspicious type of guy, but this looked a little strange because the name on the title was Helen Rifenbark. Myron’s last name isn’t Rifenbark. “What gives?” Well, he explained, he had purchased the bike from a guy who had bought the bike from Helen. Apparently the guy Myron bought it from had never retitled the bike in his name. Myron had never gotten the bike running so he had never tried to title it. Great. Well now I need Helen to sign the title. Myron volunteered to go to Helen’s house and get her to sign it. She’s a little old Myron said so he may have to convince her it’s OK. I said, fine, as long as we keep this legal. Three weeks later Myron stops by my cube and says Helen is hard to get hold of, he’s left messages on her answering machine and knocked on her door a few times. I suggested he send her a letter with a return receipt. Three days later Myron comes into my cube with the latest edition of the local county newspaper. This is not a big deal, except he had the obituary section. We then understood why Helen had been so hard to get hold of. This wasn’t going to be real easy.

I called the DMV in Topeka to ask how one titles a vehicle when the titled owner was deceased. They gave me chapter and verse on the ways of getting it done. Basically you need to resurrect the aforementioned dearly departed and get them to sign the title. So I opted for a different route, let’s apply for a title using the “lost” option. This entails having the State Highway Patrol inspect the vehicle, do a VIN search and then document the vehicle’s ownership. With these documents you can get a new title in your name (for a modest, spleen rupturing fee). So I had to trailer the bike to Coffey County so the Highway Patrol officer could inspect the bike, which he did, and took my check, and gave me pink, white and goldenrod forms to submit to Osage County for title. I happily marched into the Treasurer’s office in Osage County with the forms and applied for the new title. You might think that this would have ended the whole affair, but this is not how legalities, municipalities, and the powers that be operate. About two days after I had submitted the paperwork (and the coin of the realm) for a new title the County Clerk calls me. She informs me that the bike was last titled in Kansas and that my submission of the “lost” title stuff was not “legal.” Crap, OK then, what do I need to do? Her answer, “You have to have the titled owner sign it.” “How do I do that when the owner is dead?” “Excuse me?” she asked. So I explained that Helen Rifenbark had ceased to care about the title of the bike shortly after she had quit breathing permanently. “Well you’re in a pickle.” She stated. “Really, why is that?” “Because the owner needs to sign the title, or I suppose the Executor could sign it.” “And if I don’t have a title?” “Oh, you can apply for a title in Topeka,” she countered. Great. “What about the paperwork I sent in?” “Well,” she said, “the State will send it back to you with a cover letter stating you have to have the titled owner sign the original or duplicate copy.” “OK, “ I said, “what about the registration fees I paid?” “Thanks for shopping Osage County,” she said and hung up. Great. Now I had that duplicate title from Myron, but now I needed to find the Executor to poor Helen’s estate. You know I found out they don’t usually publish that in the Obits. So I had to call the county clerk’s office to find out who the Executor was, and of course they only had the name of the lawyer for the estate. So I called the attorney and asked who the Executor of the estate was. I was informed the deceased’s brother-in-law; Fred Rifenbark who lived in Missouri was the executor. Fabulous. So I got a name and a phone number and called the bother-in-law in Missouri. Well I talked to his wife he was out. She was very sympathetic about my situation and said she would discuss the matter with her husband when he came in. I said I would put the title (Myron had gotten) in the mail with a postage paid return envelope. She said that would be great.

To be continued if you want to read the "rest of the story."

What a read, of course I want to hear the rest of the story.

 

[atomsplitter]

What a read, of course I want to hear the rest of the story.

Ok Doc, here you go:

Three weeks later I get my envelope back with the title UNsigned and a letter. Now I could go into a lot of detail as to what Fred had to offer as reasons why he wouldn’t sign it, but suffice to say he was not going to sign anything for someone he had never met, wouldn’t meet, didn’t want to hear from, or invite to lunch. Great. I made another long distance phone call. I actually got hold of Fred and we had an amiable chat, really. He asked whom I had gotten the bike from, how they had acquired it and so on. I gave the details I knew and suggested for further clarification he may want to talk to Myron. That’s when the tone got a little ominous because he started talking about stuff his sister-in-law had illegally sold or confiscated when his brother passed and I began to have a sinking feeling this was not going to turn out well. I sent him the title back with another postage paid envelope in hopes he would recant after our discussion. Next day Myron plops down in my cube and asks me who the hell Fred Rifenbark is. Oh boy, this should be interesting. Why do you ask, I inquired? He then informed me he was grilled for two hours over the phone by some old geezer about the XS, I had just got running and the circumstances to his acquisition of it. I explained to Myron I had talked to Fred and that Fred could ask Myron directly about Myron’s involvement with the bike but that I didn't think Fred would actually contact Myron when I made the proposal. Myron softened a bit and said he had provided a lot of details about the bike and its purchase and that Fred had indicated he was inclined to sign the title after their conversation. Cool.

One week later I got my envelope back from Fred and curiously enough an envelope from the State of Kansas on the same day. It was a Wednesday, I think (the day may be off but not the timing that follows). In the envelope from Fred was the duplicate title Myron had gotten (this time signed) with a cover letter explaining why he had signed it. Apparently, he had buried the hatchet along with poor Helen's remains. In the State of Kansas envelope I fully expected the rejection notice (and a "how dare I try to circumlocute the great state powers" nasty-gram) I was assured by the Osage county clerk was headed my way for my earlier attempt at titling. However, what I found in the State of Kansas envelope was not a nasty-gram at all but a new title with my name on it. So, I had a signed duplicate title from Helen's executor that was legal and a state issued new title, that was legal. On Thursday (or the next day at any rate) Myron came sauntering into my cube with a great big grin. He had finally found his copy of that original signed title from Helen Rifenbark, and because she was listed on that title as a co-owner it was a legal transfer of ownership. He said he had found it the previous night while cleaning out one of his file cabinets looking for specific documents for his defense team on another divorce. That gave me three fully legal titles to one XS 650. Cool, it's super-duper uber-legal. I put the bike up for sale on Fleece-Bay Friday. It was purchased by a bloke named Jurgen Sandner seven days later. I say bloke because he lives in Newcastle, Australia. He actually spent the money and called me directly from Australia to talk about his acquiring my bike and getting it shipped to him down under. His biggest concern during our 2 hour long conversation for taking delivery of my old scoot from the USA of course was a clean and clear title. Boy howdy do I got that covered BIG TIME! THE END

There you go Doc, the "rest of the story". BTW Jurgen had a shipping service stop at my place to get that bike and accompanying bits and bobs that are detailed in another story in my book. As it turned out I ended up selling Jurgen a couple XS's over the years, he's a great guy.