Ever since my husband bought his motorcycle, it's been all he can talk about. His excitement is palpable. You can feel the waves of pure "happy" coming off of him when he is telling someone about it. Often times I can see him go deep into thought, only to have him say something regarding his motorcycle a few minutes later. And I can't help but grin to myself, knowing that his every though is occupied with this motorcycle, this piece of metal that is one hundred percent un-necessary and one hundred percent pleasure for him.
This weekend he attended a motorcycle safety course. It took up his Friday night, all day Saturday and all day Sunday. It sure was a different weekend for us - to not have him around - but as tedious as it was for him to sit and listen to the basics about clutches and mirrors and gears, he emerged a man able to go to the DMV and get his license. And that makes him happy. And me, also, because I feel like he'll at least be a little bit more knowledgeable about riding. Anything that helps to keep him safer is something I'm all for.
And speaking of safety, almost every female that I've spoken with about him getting a motorcycle has said something akin to the famous "You'll shoot your eye out, kid" line from A Christmas Story. They've said, "Tell him to be careful," or "Those things scare me." And the guys have run their hands along the bike and said, "Man, that's cool," or "I want one."
If ever we need verification that the sexes differ, there it is.