Ah, Minnesota spring days. The trees are starting to come back to life. The sound of tractors puttering and sputtering can be heard in the distance, preparing the earth for seed. A glass of Pinot Grigio in my hand as I relax on my deck, surrounded by the pretty flower pots my daughter and I planted.
Such a pleasant evening, I think, until brrrrrRRRRRR!!!
Motorcycles.
I get the whole joy of the open road and the wind in your hair (providing you’re not wearing a helmet).
Yes, I know, you have a bike and I know you like to ride it. I know you spent your hard-earned money on buying the thing and your hard-earned time on cleaning and maintaining it. This is the land of the free and the home of the brave, as I feel you must be thinking as you cruise down the freeway Easy Rider-style.
However, not everyone is impressed.
Must you crank on the accelerator (or whatever it is) in neighborhoods where middle-aged women like to enjoy a glass of wine on their decks?
Hey, I’m the first person to say buy what you want. There could be worse hobbies, right? And as far as helmets go, I say you do you. It doesn’t bother me one bit to see someone riding without one. Heck, I occasionally drive the two blocks to the school I work at without a seatbelt on.
But just tone it down a bit, buddy. I live in the ‘burbs, not Sturgis.
49 and Counting 