Why do I ride?
When people ask me why I ride a motorcycle, they think it’s risky and dumb
They think I’m ‘channeling’ Eric von Zipper
And don’t realize I’m riding to the beat of my own drum.
I shrug & tell ‘em that I really like the feel of the wind on my face
Just like a doggie with his head out the window going in the car someplace.
I cruise down the road sitting so straight up, that some say I look like a cop
Cages slow down and get anxious, wondering if they’re gonna be stopped.
They’re sometimes secretly afraid that it’s a big bad biker guy
On a big bad motorcycle cruiser that’s shiny jet black.
As I pass they realize that it’s a Mom-type person riding by
With a small stuffed animal and ‘Rdng Ldy’on the back.
I give a final ‘princess on a float’ cute wave with my glove
Kicking the shit out of stereotypes is what I LOVE.
Herein lies a tale or two, of family, good friends, and times past. All my wonderful (and not-so-wonderful but still memorable) memories in e-form will now forever last. An e-scrapbook of people and places I love, protected from the ravages of the years, and I can now share these tales with others, eliciting laughter, e-kisses and tears. (although quite frankly, an e-kiss is a DEFINITE waste of energy in MY opinion. No caloric content whatsoever. Sigh. Oh well, I'll take it.)
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