Some people's hot
Some people's cold
Some people's not very
Swift to behold
Some people do it
Some see right through it
Some wear pyjamas
If only they knew it
The po-jama people are boring me to pieces
They make me feel like I am wasting my time
They all got flannel up 'n down 'em
A little trap-door back aroun' 'em
An' some cozy little footies on their mind
Po-jama people!
Po-jama people, people!
Lawd, they make you sleepy
With the things they might say
Po-jama people!
Po-jama people, people!
Mother, Mary 'n Jozuf, wish they'd all go away!
Po-jama people!
It's a po-jama people special...
Take one home with you & save a dollar today
Po-jama people!
Po-jama people, people!
Wrap 'em up
Roll 'em out
Get 'em out of my way
I get bored with people who drive motor vehicles.
Pojama people drive motor vehicles.
Being a rider, you are going to meet a lot of Pojama People.
It’s not that they are an especially boring group of people, I also drive a motor vehicle if I must, but Pojama People just don’t ‘get it’ when it comes to understanding why some of us can get excited about riding motorcycles, (or like to sleep naked).
Upon learning that you ride a motorcycle, your helmet and leathers usually being the stimulus that galvanizes their dim awareness into sharp perception, their responses are predictably, well errrr, predictable.
Pojama People are compelled by force of convention, which happens to be the overriding principle of their lives, to ask you to confirm the reality of what they are seeing before them. The idea that you would actually participate in such irresponsible, dangerous and foolhardy conduct, voluntarily, just beggars their belief system. The undeniable fact that you are a rider makes them uncomfortable. To be absolutely sure that they have not lost their grip on reality, they feel obliged to conduct a reality check on the system status of their conventional belief system by asking you a confirmatory question like….
“Oh, you ride a motorcycle?”
Don’t be sucked in by the brilliant simplicity of the question. Disguised as a perfectly innocent, and affable opening one liner to polite conversation, this question is actually triggered by a spinal reflex which causes air to be involuntarily passed over the vocal chords making a noise that sounds like “Oh, you ride a motorcycle?”, No conscious thought, much less intent, was involved in this utterance. It is simple stress relief.
Loosely translated it means “WTF”? However, Pojama People rarely use profanity in polite society because it’s an unconventional response.
Having experienced this situation so many times in 30 something years of riding I have suppressed MY reflexive counter reaction to the question, which goes something like….
“No, I have unsuppressed Sado-Masochistic fantasies which focus on timid people in Pojamas who ask stupid questions and right now I’d like to fit you into my favourite fantasy. How about it? Oh, and by the way, do those Pojamas come in leather?”.
Being a disciplined rider of many years experience I have mellowed and developed a more mature, controlled response when replying to inane prattle, which acts as the perfect social counterstrike to their opening one liner.
Equally cunningly disguised with an affirmative nod of the head, and delivered through a broad smile with enough enthusiasm to convey that I am perfectly happy to accept them as a social equal having possibly even met a kindred spirit, I say…
“Yes I do. What are YOU riding at the moment”?
The effect of this response on Pojama People ranges from reaching for the nearest drink while attempting a hasty recovery from the social gaff they most obviously have just made, to near blind panic and an overwhelming urge to run to the nearest exit to recover their composure. Some simply excuse themselves and go to the bathroom. The social gaff must, after all, have been theirs because I was somehow given the impression that THEY would actually participate in such irresponsible, dangerous and foolhardy conduct, voluntarily!
Now you may be thinking that I am a Sadistic SOB who enjoys screwing with Pojama Peoples heads (well, ok, just a bit) but the truth is I do all this in self-defence.
Had I not delivered my carefully crafted counter question to their opening one liner, I would have left myself open to the totally predictable second question full frontal assault which goes something like…
“Oh no.
I could never do something like that.
Motorcycles are so dangerous.
Aren’t you worried about getting hurt?”
With the predictable, metered, staccato delivery of a world war one machine gun they launch their defence of their reality.
The objective of these four lines is to establish a line of defence between the Pojama Person and the source of their discomfort i.e. you; to restate their belief system i.e. that anything motorcycle related represents a real and present danger to them i.e. you; to neutralize the threat i.e. you by distance themselves from the local source i.e. you and project the unpleasant consequences of all things motorcycle back onto the source of the discomfort i.e. you.
The fact is, there is never any prospect of conducting a meaningful social conversation with any intellectual depth, on points of common interest with Pojama People. If you are not a Pojama Person you probably won’t understand them.
I feel sorry for Pojama People because they actually have a great deal of trouble coping with unconventional social interactions. For instance, they could have saved a lot of time by just stating something like…
“You make me feel uncomfortable. Please don’t talk to me.”
Of course, this would never occur because it IS an unconventional response. It would also never occur because it has little survival value. Responding in this way to people who ride motorcycles would lead to the eventual extinction of Pojama People
The Pojama Person has to perform their conventional social greeting because it is the conventional way to counter the unconventional encounter with you. Safety needs are the primary motivator of Pajama People and they would rather be safe than sorry.
Pojama People are a living tragedy.
Their lives are ruled by their fears. Their fear paralyses them and denies them fulfilling, rewarding and uplifting experiences.
Think of what they will never experience because they are trapped by fear.
Every serious rider experiences transcendent moments at some time during his or her riding career.
Ever arrive at a destination and come to the sudden, unexpected and totally pleasant realization that you just completed the most technically elegant and perfectly executed use of a motorcycle you could ever possibly perform? You realize that you just pulled off the perfect 10?
Every gearshift perfectly timed, every corner line perfectly set-up and executed, every throttle roll-on out of the corner delivering the perfect amount of drive out of the line and every braking maneuver and stop so smooth it wasn’t felt. An Olympian ride.
It doesn’t necessarily have to be an adrenaline driven mania that produces a perfect 10. You can get your 10 on a leisurely Sunday afternoon ride to no place in particular or a routine ride to work through heavy traffic or on a morning sprint down a misty country road.
Ever had one of those rides when you and the bike are ‘on-song’ and the boundary between rider and machine becomes fluid and effortless as mind, body and machine become one living, conscious system of response to the road?
Ever been at this point and then felt the boundaries of your system extend to include the road, the elements and the surroundings as your journey ceases to be meaningful as physical movement across distance and becomes more meaningful as a movement of consciousness through journey time?
A motorcycle can move your soul.
...only fear can paralyze a soul.
Some people's cold
Some people's not very
Swift to behold
Some people do it
Some see right through it
Some wear pyjamas
If only they knew it
The po-jama people are boring me to pieces
They make me feel like I am wasting my time
They all got flannel up 'n down 'em
A little trap-door back aroun' 'em
An' some cozy little footies on their mind
Po-jama people!
Po-jama people, people!
Lawd, they make you sleepy
With the things they might say
Po-jama people!
Po-jama people, people!
Mother, Mary 'n Jozuf, wish they'd all go away!
Po-jama people!
It's a po-jama people special...
Take one home with you & save a dollar today
Po-jama people!
Po-jama people, people!
Wrap 'em up
Roll 'em out
Get 'em out of my way
The Late, Great, Frank Zappa – One size fits all
I get bored with people who drive motor vehicles.
Pojama people drive motor vehicles.
Being a rider, you are going to meet a lot of Pojama People.
It’s not that they are an especially boring group of people, I also drive a motor vehicle if I must, but Pojama People just don’t ‘get it’ when it comes to understanding why some of us can get excited about riding motorcycles, (or like to sleep naked).
Upon learning that you ride a motorcycle, your helmet and leathers usually being the stimulus that galvanizes their dim awareness into sharp perception, their responses are predictably, well errrr, predictable.
Pojama People are compelled by force of convention, which happens to be the overriding principle of their lives, to ask you to confirm the reality of what they are seeing before them. The idea that you would actually participate in such irresponsible, dangerous and foolhardy conduct, voluntarily, just beggars their belief system. The undeniable fact that you are a rider makes them uncomfortable. To be absolutely sure that they have not lost their grip on reality, they feel obliged to conduct a reality check on the system status of their conventional belief system by asking you a confirmatory question like….
“Oh, you ride a motorcycle?”
Don’t be sucked in by the brilliant simplicity of the question. Disguised as a perfectly innocent, and affable opening one liner to polite conversation, this question is actually triggered by a spinal reflex which causes air to be involuntarily passed over the vocal chords making a noise that sounds like “Oh, you ride a motorcycle?”, No conscious thought, much less intent, was involved in this utterance. It is simple stress relief.
Loosely translated it means “WTF”? However, Pojama People rarely use profanity in polite society because it’s an unconventional response.
Having experienced this situation so many times in 30 something years of riding I have suppressed MY reflexive counter reaction to the question, which goes something like….
“No, I have unsuppressed Sado-Masochistic fantasies which focus on timid people in Pojamas who ask stupid questions and right now I’d like to fit you into my favourite fantasy. How about it? Oh, and by the way, do those Pojamas come in leather?”.
Being a disciplined rider of many years experience I have mellowed and developed a more mature, controlled response when replying to inane prattle, which acts as the perfect social counterstrike to their opening one liner.
Equally cunningly disguised with an affirmative nod of the head, and delivered through a broad smile with enough enthusiasm to convey that I am perfectly happy to accept them as a social equal having possibly even met a kindred spirit, I say…
“Yes I do. What are YOU riding at the moment”?
The effect of this response on Pojama People ranges from reaching for the nearest drink while attempting a hasty recovery from the social gaff they most obviously have just made, to near blind panic and an overwhelming urge to run to the nearest exit to recover their composure. Some simply excuse themselves and go to the bathroom. The social gaff must, after all, have been theirs because I was somehow given the impression that THEY would actually participate in such irresponsible, dangerous and foolhardy conduct, voluntarily!
Now you may be thinking that I am a Sadistic SOB who enjoys screwing with Pojama Peoples heads (well, ok, just a bit) but the truth is I do all this in self-defence.
Had I not delivered my carefully crafted counter question to their opening one liner, I would have left myself open to the totally predictable second question full frontal assault which goes something like…
“Oh no.
I could never do something like that.
Motorcycles are so dangerous.
Aren’t you worried about getting hurt?”
With the predictable, metered, staccato delivery of a world war one machine gun they launch their defence of their reality.
The objective of these four lines is to establish a line of defence between the Pojama Person and the source of their discomfort i.e. you; to restate their belief system i.e. that anything motorcycle related represents a real and present danger to them i.e. you; to neutralize the threat i.e. you by distance themselves from the local source i.e. you and project the unpleasant consequences of all things motorcycle back onto the source of the discomfort i.e. you.
The fact is, there is never any prospect of conducting a meaningful social conversation with any intellectual depth, on points of common interest with Pojama People. If you are not a Pojama Person you probably won’t understand them.
I feel sorry for Pojama People because they actually have a great deal of trouble coping with unconventional social interactions. For instance, they could have saved a lot of time by just stating something like…
“You make me feel uncomfortable. Please don’t talk to me.”
Of course, this would never occur because it IS an unconventional response. It would also never occur because it has little survival value. Responding in this way to people who ride motorcycles would lead to the eventual extinction of Pojama People
The Pojama Person has to perform their conventional social greeting because it is the conventional way to counter the unconventional encounter with you. Safety needs are the primary motivator of Pajama People and they would rather be safe than sorry.
Pojama People are a living tragedy.
Their lives are ruled by their fears. Their fear paralyses them and denies them fulfilling, rewarding and uplifting experiences.
Think of what they will never experience because they are trapped by fear.
Every serious rider experiences transcendent moments at some time during his or her riding career.
Ever arrive at a destination and come to the sudden, unexpected and totally pleasant realization that you just completed the most technically elegant and perfectly executed use of a motorcycle you could ever possibly perform? You realize that you just pulled off the perfect 10?
Every gearshift perfectly timed, every corner line perfectly set-up and executed, every throttle roll-on out of the corner delivering the perfect amount of drive out of the line and every braking maneuver and stop so smooth it wasn’t felt. An Olympian ride.
It doesn’t necessarily have to be an adrenaline driven mania that produces a perfect 10. You can get your 10 on a leisurely Sunday afternoon ride to no place in particular or a routine ride to work through heavy traffic or on a morning sprint down a misty country road.
Ever had one of those rides when you and the bike are ‘on-song’ and the boundary between rider and machine becomes fluid and effortless as mind, body and machine become one living, conscious system of response to the road?
Ever been at this point and then felt the boundaries of your system extend to include the road, the elements and the surroundings as your journey ceases to be meaningful as physical movement across distance and becomes more meaningful as a movement of consciousness through journey time?
A motorcycle can move your soul.
...only fear can paralyze a soul.
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