Today in the smoking shack, I sat in on a conversation about motorcycles.  As per usual, I sat intently clicking away at on my SideKick.  An older gentleman, for the sake of argument I’ll peg as 63, was holding court over a few other men on the subject of motorcycling.  I learned about classes one can take to be certified motorist in the State of Michigan.  I tuned in and out of an anecdote about an “old guy” that was in a Harley Davidson class.  I thought to myself, if the man sitting in front of me is referring to an “old guy”, there must be 70+ year old men out there just learning to ride a motorcycle.

I want a motorcycle, I don’t plan on hitting the open road with it, and I don’t plan on making it a primary vehicle.  Hindered by my loved ones, I don’t foresee myself getting a motorcycle because of their safety concerns.  Looking at the men in the smoking shack, I was mortified to think that I’ll have to be 55+ before I can get a motorcycle.  At this rate, I think I may never feel a hog between my legs.. (heeey)