| Home | Archives | What This Is | Intro | Comments |    

 

“You talking about a bike?  I thought you had a bike already.  Don’t you go down those hills at incredible speeds?  What do you want with another bike?”, I asked.

“I am speaking about a motor bike,” he confirmed, “A motorcycle.  The thought has crossed my mind about getting a motorcycle.”

“Oh man.  That’s neat.  I’d be nervous though.  Especially driving around in Rochester.  You never know.  People hit my car twice in two consecutive years.  I’d be afraid to drive a motorcycle around here.  I wrote something about Rochester drivers on my web page.” I said.

“Oh, that Internet stuff again,” he paused and thought to himself, “It’s the late 90’s television, just more interactive.  Ready to take the audience into the next millennium.”

“Hey.  Well.  You have a point there.  But.  Hey.  Back to the point.  You already have a Stealth, a reconditioned Jeep,” I started counting out loud, “You taught yourself snowboarding in a year and teach at Swain.  You bike…well, mountain bike.  Rollerblade.  Snowmobile.  Shall I go on?”

He smiled and raised his hands as if proud of himself, “Sounds like a perfect match to me.”

Giving the subject a second thought, “Well, I would, how you say, motor bike, if I had the guts.  There’s a certain freedom…”

“It’s wonderful,” he interrupted excitingly, “You feel the road.  It’s all around you like heaven.  It’s probably the closest thing to flying on land that one can get.”  He continued on with visioning his scenario and I could see the thrill filling his soul.  I felt as though this venture would fulfill his curiosity and probably fill a hunger that needed feeding.  I did the usual and smiled and listened.
 

Dedicated to the memory of my friend Randall Coan, 1961 – 1997 -- I miss you.

 
 | Back |