today was one of
those kind of days.
you know what i'm taking about.
everything seems to happen at once and your head is spinning.
you get in your car at the end of the day to escape.
the windows are down, the radio is up, but it's not quite enough.
the car doesn't provide enough freedom.
though it protects, it also restrains.
perhaps a convertible...that might get me a little closer, i find my body is still limited in its experience of the open road.
sky diving? definitely. but with only one jump under my belt, and dependency on a pilot, i'll set that one aside for now.
sailing lessons this summer offer no help to me today.
maybe a plane but only if the destination is exotic.
running...too slow. vespa...not enough power.
i think the only the only mode of transportation that will satisfy this urge on a day like today is a motorcycle.
yes. that's it. today is a motorcycle-riding kind of day.
third year in school, we designed a motorcycle museum in la. it wasn't a real project, but we had a real site. [a real site which we had a real site trip to visit] i did my research, read my books. i asked a friend to take me on a spin around manhattan...it was my first time on the bike. i decided i needed him to take me around again...of course, only for the sake of the project.
[sketch from third year project and a picture i took from the back of a bike on the greek island of paros]as you move to the side, the entire bike moves with you. it engages the full body and you become one with the molded metal. that's probably not the safest. my grandma always called them sui-cycles.
she’s probably right.
but who wants to be safe today?motorcycle drivers are 16 times more likely to die in a crash than an automobile occupant.
but how can you drive in a car on a motorcycle day?
45% of fatally injured motorcycle drivers were not wearing helmets at the time of the crash and nearly one out of five had an invalid license.
so maybe motorcycle drivers aren't the smartest people in the world either.
i'd at least wear a helmet.i think more than the vehicles themselves, i like the kind of people that drive motorcycles. they look tough, but you know it's just a front. they are softies underneath who ride their bikes for toys and kids with disabilities. they bond with anyone else who drives these hogs, regardless of their own tough, black, leather shell. on thursdays, they all drive to old town and park along the streets. as i'm trying to finish up my day, i hear them rumbling outside the window and squealing around the corner. i wonder if i walked down to the bar with them if they'd catch on i wasn't really part of the club. i don't think i'd fool them.
i'm envious of their freedom. they hit the road for days at a time. they stop along the way, enjoy the company of their cohorts at random truck stops. they listen each other's stories, tell their own...then on the road again. i doubt they make hotel reservations. they probably don't even have a final destination. whether they go east or west is dependent on if they want to drive into the sunset or out at the sunrise. they make their decision to go north or south on if the want to wear their leather chaps or not. they just follow the road and let it lead the way. they don't need much, all the necessities under their seat. they leave little to the imagination; what you see is what you get. they don't have to return phone calls and avoid captivity underneath a ceiling grid. there are no fancy black windows to hide behind, or a radio to drown out reality.
just the wind and the road.
during the day, the sun.
during the night, the stars.
so by the end of this post i’ve realized…
i really don't think i want to drive a motorcycle at all…
i just want to live like i do.
