It's like a bad rash that has spread throughout our close-knit circle, and by my calculations, no one has been spared, not even uber-British, pipe-smoking, genteel Adam has escaped the fever. The strain to which I'm referring is known as motorcyclus covetus. Every man I know wants, has recently purchased, or has plans to acquire, a motorcycle. One by one various wives are announcing, "He bought one." We all lower our heads in solemnity and then begin rattling off comforting statistics to offset the collective unease.
Devarshi has one, Shawn has one, both my brothers drive them, and Todd has long wanted one, but I have cleverly kept him neck-deep in medical costs partly as a means to ensure he'll never be able to afford one. So imagine what a sucker punch it was when he came waltzing in this morning from grocery shopping and said, casually, "Oh, I am buying that motorcycle." All I could think, after dropping a bag of watermelon, was, "I don't even know what company your life insurance is through." I know it's macabre, and I know all about the law of attraction, but I just can't help but picture Todd skidding down some freeway, maimed for life or worse. And then of course is there is the unspeakable: The day he wants to take one of my babies on his hog, er, piglet (it's a Super Moto). Seriously, over my dead body. Yes I know I can't raise them in fear, and how important it is to allow them to have enriching life experiences, but I think my heart would explode seeing one of them mount this steed, headed for the open road. I confess I am already conjuring up ways in which I might injure myself that would bury him in debt until he is too old to ride...(please email ideas privately)
The newest Fitzpatrick
The whole issue leaves me torn, for these guys work hard, and gas prices are fucked, and why shouldn't they have a little fun whilst saving the family big bucks? But Jesus, one misstep, and the consequences could be unbearable. While it is sexy to see them all leather-clad, speeding off on their bikes, the other side of that coin is them not coming back at all. Personally, I can't support my kids on my meager skills and incomplete schooling, and most moms are in the same boat. That pretty much leaves us trying to go about our lives, ignoring the knots in our guts, awaiting that rumble at the end the day.
I guess the one upside to this little epidemic is that very shortly (come on re-class!) we will ALL be in this together. We should have a support group, one that meets three nights a week, and tell the dads it's our Spousal Motorcycle-Ownership Acceptance Assimilation Forum. (S.M.O.A.A.F.) Surely they would have no grounds for objection, for we'd only be trying to support them and their newly-expanded man-ness. We shall discuss top secret things such as a virulent strain of motorcycle thefts, chronic slashed tires, and the new, increasingly popular crime of stealing gas. It's not our fault if the guys have made themselves vulnerable to whole new crop of trouble. They should have known what being flung from their bikes would be the least of their worries...