I write stuff. A lot of it is about cars and motorcycles.

Making Mommy Unhappy

My mother hates the very idea of me getting on a motorcycle. I talked to her on the phone the other day and when I mentioned it, she told me she didn’t want to hear anything more about it. She just wants to pretend that motorcycles don’t exist.

The thing is, I’m picking up the bike on 2 July, the day after I graduate from the MSF course and get my full M1 license. I’m also taking 2-4 July off work, basically so I can take some rides in the low-traffic roads around my house, and get used to riding.

If I feel good about my skills, I’m gonna start commuting on Thursday the 5th. We’ll see.

Now, my grandmother is still alive, and lives with my mother, and she is having her…I dunno…89th or 90th birthday on Saturday, the 7th of July. And if I do feel good about my abilities, a ride to my mom’s house would be great. Even though she lives right off Interstate 215, I can pretty much take the old, sparsely-traveled 395 highway to Temecula, which is a very nice ride, and goes through part of a national forest, then take the desert roads that parallel the 215 north up to my mother’s house in Wildomar.

On the other hand, my mother will have a cow if she hears the Harley snarl, and sees me show up at the door in riding gear.

Maybe it shows a lack of respect for her fears and feelings, but I’d really like to do it anyway.

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