I've never been a handy type of guy. Don't know how to change oil in a car, don't know how to change a bicycle tire. I called my dad when my motorcycle battery died and he said he'd call some buddies and call me back. The next day he left me a voice mail which basically said "get a new battery and plop it in there". I don't know what I expected exactly but I think part of me wanted him to take care of it. Childish and immature I know but the idea of changing out the battery myself was daunting. I called him back and had him describe to me how to do it. I also talked to Andy from Schwa, the only other guy in Chicago I know who rides, he told me to take the old battery to Autozone and they would size me up a new one.
I set off this afternoon without much hope but determined to give it a try. Muscling the battery out was easier than I thought, Tisher picked me up and took me to Autozone where I got a replacement battery no problem. Back at the bike I took the battery out of the package, I had to pour the acid in myself, and while it was settling I read in the instructions it "may need to be pre-charged". It was a punch in the gut. Tisher and I got some ice cream and took a walk around the block. Gave the acid some time to do its work.
It roared to life and a wave elation crashed over me. I haven't felt such an acute sense of euphoria in a long time. It's a small thing but I did it myself. I got help and guidance but I changed the battery with my own two hands. There's a deep satisfaction in doing the work and having it pay off.
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