Like the man with the seismically impressive stereo system I can hear coming from blocks and blocks away, the man on the Harley is almost home after a long hard day at work.
Here he comes! You hear him? BLAT BLAT-BLAT-BLAT BLAT BLAT-BLAT-BLAT!
I have nothing against motorcycles. I was on the back of one for years – sometimes of my own free will! – and I can freely and without benefit of recompense tell you that bikes are a joyous mode of transportation.
No one has threatened to make public any bit of information they may have about those years in exchange for this endorsement.
The Harley – now just three blocks away and taking a left, if I’m any judge of acoustics – is a low-slung testimony to willfulness, a middle-fingered salute to health, safety, convention, and noise ordinances.
No worries about someone sneaking up on you on a Harley, are there! I hear him long before I see him, a muscular and weather-beaten man with heavy boots and an arrogant mustache, a man who gives me “the nod”.
Me? I nod back.
But we are not conspirators, you and I, Motorcycle Mustache Man.
Unless, of course, I can get a ride.
What can I say? It’s been a while.
About Bob Dylan
5 days ago
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18 comments:
Growing up we were forbidden to get on a motorcycle (and not just for safety's sake). The few times I did, I'm not sure whether the thrill was the actual ride or the breaking of the taboo. Regardless, I will always associate motorcycles with 'bad boys'.
It's funny how getting a nod from a guy on a bike is strangely thrilling. Because off the bike he is probably a lot less thrilling.
For all the reasons you mention, and a few you didn't (say no more, say no more), riding a Harley is the greatest.
I would be quite happy and proud to give you a ride on mine should the opportunity present itself. Fair warning: it is loud and obnoxious and the drinking of beer is usually woven into the experience at some point.
IB
There's a guy that dates a girl a few houses down that shows up on his motorcycle every so often. Problem is, he leaves early in the morning...
...so at 5:30 the entire neighborhood hears the start up, which usually has several loud bursts because he is either flexing his wrist or warming up the engine, or both.
It's rather annoying. We've (the neighbors) talked about maybe fixing her up with someone who drives a SmartCar.
:-)
What we wouldn't do to get some sleep...
I always knew you were a biker chick!
Some people are just born to ride.
It all starts with a Big Wheel I tell you....
The bike that i own is not a Harley. But still is a bike. A reasonable one at that.
But a Harley is a Harley ! Someday, i'll get one. Just to get a champion blogger's attention !
hmm
:)
Be still my heart... Nothing like the rumbling of those sweet Harley pipes... Even for an old broad like me. Every time I go to the grocery store, the pharmacy or out to eat if there is a bike in the parking lot I have to check it out... My Bro or Carol or whoever I'm with just shakes their head and walks on... Hey, I'm only 64... I'm not dead!
Helen
I think a specific name should be assigned to the nod a guy on a motorcyle gives AND one for the thrill it leaves you with, too. Any ideas?
Ellen, you, me, and a whole lotta people, honey!
CG, it is, isn't it?! Of course, sometimes the implication is just as good as the real thing. I've known bikers who were just as interesting as they looked and others who were only interesting when they were riding!
IB, we're on. And as strange as it sounds, a trip in your direction is not out of the question. As you know, my cousin Shell is in Yelm, just a few hours a way from you -- and just a few more hours? Our lovely Sweet Cheeks.
Oh, and a ride AND a beer?! Well, no, really, I shouldn't. I mean, you know -- oh what the hell! :-) I said I'd try new things and I mean it. :-D
f8hasit, you know, I believe I wrote about a similar experience with a man who would arrive early morning to pick up another man in my neighborhood for some horrible shift or another, leaving his car running with AC/DC positively blaring out of his car speakers.
I stole his car on the third day he did that, while in my pj's, and left it running a good six blocks (was it six blocks??) away. Oddly enough, I never heard him after that...
Sweet Cheeks, wait, what?! You had a Big Wheel?! See, I knew mom loved you more!
Kavi, and we'll take our lives in our hands and tour the city!
Reddirt Woman, people laugh at me, but the BLAT BLAT BLAT of a Harley sounds like adventure to me, like drunk kisses, like dancing and laughing and having very large, protective men physically pick you up. :-) I was always lucky, always protected, never had any problems. I miss those days, but am glad to have had them.
Sparkle Farkle, that is the most provocative thing I've heard today. Hmm. See, now you're going to make me think, and it wasn't on my schedule until much later in the week...
You know Pearl what I want to say I can't bring myself to saying...
(facial hair)
But I do miss those days of hanging for dear life on the back of a motorcycle, even though I was terrified...
Peace -Rene
I love that sound!
Having just heard a similar sound outside my window, you have my sympathies. Do you really want a man with a biker moustache?
My problem with Harleys and other bikes is that if I drove my car around with a muffler that loud, I would be busted. They're not. Howcum?
I'm such a wimp. I only rode once on the back of my boyfriend's very small motorcycle (more like a motor scooter) when I was 17 or 18 and it scared me to death. I've never been on one since and I'm 61. I also hate roller coasters...I get terrified easily, I'm ashamed to say. I admire those who aren't such scaredy cats.
Yes, I'm afraid I'm with Comedy Goddess here: In my experience many blokes consider buying a huge motorcycle to be a shortcut to Appearing Interesting. When he starts talking he may be revealed as A Bit Dull. But, still, don't let me stop you!
Ah - the thrills of speed and wind-tossed helmet hair!
So long as it isn't raining, right?
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