Here's an illustration of two of Cancerian traits:
- Hanging tenaciously onto the past, and
- Approaching things in an indirect, sideways crablike manner
I was cleaning out some files the other day and found this piece of paper that heralded the beginning of my life as a motorcyclist. It's an Indianapolis Police Department crime report concerning the theft of my 50cc Tomos moped from my garage on June 16, 1980. According to the report, I was 34 at the time.
I'd bought the moped from a Broad Ripple bicycle shop the previous summer and rode the hell out of it. I used it to commute the seven miles from my house to the newspaper office downtown and even rode it to a story assignment in Rockville, some 70 miles west of Indianapolis.
When I got the insurance settlement, I decided it was time to move up and a few weeks later walked into Keystone Kawasaki and bought a KE175 dual purpose bike. I had no training, but I knew I wanted to ride motorcycles. I bought a $25 cheapo polycarbonate open face helmet from a discount store and started riding.
I somehow managed to avoid crashing for the next few months until the Motorcycle Safety Foundation's first beginning rider course was offered in the autumn of that year. I was so impressed with the course that I became an instructor and taught in the ABATE of Indiana Motorcycle Safety Program for 10 years.
All because some neighborhood dirtbag kid stole my moped.
No comments:
Post a Comment