I am a motorcyclist. For a long time I was a motorcyclist without a motorcycle. Now I am a motorcyclist with a motorcycle and I am happy.
My new motorcycle is a 2006 Honda VFR Interceptor. It has heated grips, hard luggage and wires I can plug into an expensive suit, which I do not own, to keep me warm on cold days. My motorcycle is mostly black, but it has some brushed aluminum too.
My motorcycle says nothing about me. Motorcycling on the other hand does. Like, I like to be fully present a few times a week. If I can be fully present several times a week, or daily, or more, for prolonged periods of time, cool. (If you don’t know what I mean by “fully present”, don’t worry about it.) Motorcyclists are fully present while they’re in the saddle. They are attuned to the moment, the experience, the setting, the environment, the intangibles, the unexpected, the intangibles, the environment, the setting, the experience, the moment, now. They are conscious.
Bikers’ motorcycles say something about them. “I am sexy.” “I am wealthy.” “I am cool.” “I am searching.” A lot of bikers ride Harley Davidson motorcycles. A lot of bikers ride Hondas too. And Suzukis and Yamahas and Kawies. Not a lot of bikers ride BMW’s. Most of them are motorcyclists. A lot of bikers ride crotch rockets, which are beautiful machines but are too often trifled with. A lot of bikers ride cruisers which allow them to sit on wheeled lazy boys and drink beers and are too often trifled with.
2006 Honda VFR Interceptors are comfortable, smooth, quiet (relatively – much quieter than many), look like crotch rockets to some, but in fact are designed for grown up, Zen conciousness freaks who aren’t affronted, indeed who look forward to, significant tactile stimulation. Hwhew, hwhew, whappity, whappity, sssss, fffsssfffsss, wwwwhew, szszsz.
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