Endorsements: M Motorcycle

I am so proud that the back of my license has that extra little endorsement. I have a greater respect for those who ride too. No longer am I a passenger in life -- I can make this thrill on my own and cross another item off my life's to-do list.

I grew up in a very tame, motorcycle-hobbiest family. My Grandpa was infamous for taking cross country trips or just visiting us at the house smelling of motorcycle fumes because he toted around all day on his Honda Goldwing. You could hear him coming up to the house from a mile away because he had a cassette tape blaring from his luxury bike. He normally played Lawrence Welk's greatest hits or some other roaring 20's tune as it prematurely announced his arrival (no door bell required). When he was just over 80 years old he "scaled back" selling his 2 touring bikes and went back to a traditional Suzuki cruiser (still with plenty of kick).

Dad always had some Suzuki that he would tote us girls on the back and take a morning zip somewhere in town. Long after my sister became "too old" to be seen on my Dad's passenger seat, I was his little tomboy tried and true. I was never a morning person, he'd wake up hours before I was ready. However, once awake he would ask and I was always game. I threw on my cherry red 3/4 helmet and would wait for him to tell me I could boost myself up onto the back peg and kick my leg over the seat. I would then twist my little hands into some death grip on the waist of Dad's jean jacket and anxiously wait for the thrill of the ride. He would motor it out north onto the long stretch of Stockton Hill Road or he took the trek out to the airport so we could see the model planes fly. I used to love to hang around with him in the garage too. Just putzing around or working on the cars handing him tools. Following him so close at times that he would pivot around to get something behind him and I'd get clocked in the head with his elbow. I was his little shadow.

Perhaps you would not be able to tell now as I, Ms Priss, carry my designer Coach bag and tote around in my business suits on my high heels...but really that is just for work. I was at the DMV today reflecting how life got to this point. I saw a gruff motorcycle chick complete with black rally t-shirt, tattered jeans, helmet bag strapped to her back and riding boots getting plates for her bike. I imagined telling her that I was here getting my motorcycle license and then her laughing at me in disbelief. Doing the Rider's Edge course slapped me back to my country roots and gave me some confidence back about the simple pleasures in life. I am getting too wrapped up in the city image and I disgust myself. I don't need a bigger house, I don't need to get my hair constantly restyled, there are a lot of extras on my plate and it's just not worth it. What's wrong with running out of the house with no make up on and just going out to play. Nothing. Nothing is wrong with that, what ever could I be trying to prove either way?!? It just isn't as fun as the pure thrill of life.

I can't wait to be a little reckless and get out on the open road with just me and my totally bad ass motorcycle. Yeah, I want to get to that level of cool.

Airport Funk

Dear readers, I bring you not airport funk! That is probably the most positive reflection on all the oddities of the past week. And I am most grateful that I did not bring a cold/flu to the homes of the kiddos that if visited this holiday weekend. I would have felt really bad had I gotten 2 toddlers sick. I have instead been all a-skew with a traditional sinus infection (which I always get) that makes my head feel like an echo-y bucket of sludge. Now enhanced with complications from flying in the plane which also gives me a nice ear infection that has me dizzy. Yeah, that's where I am at this week.

Last Thursday I locked myself out of my home on my way to work. Thankfully before I twisted the lock behind me in the garage I did have my purse with cell phone. I didn't get myself back into the house because we have it locked up like Ft. Knox and the only way I could have retrieved my car keys is if I broke a window. Which was not a viable solution and a rather nice testament to our security. So a co-worker who lives relatively close picked me up for work and saved me.

Curtis (my DH) had his birthday on Saturday at Tour de Fat in Ft. Collins, CO and we spent the whole weekend with wonderful friends and visited family. It is rather nice that we both have holiday weekend birthdays (mini-3-day vacations), mine ushers in Summer on Memorial Day and his sends it out with Labor Day. We also came back to a special treat from his Dad who sent us fresh, live lobsters...eeep! Meet Fred & George (think Harry Potter and the final fate of a boiling pot of water).