Fanatical Berserker Warrior Dad wants a Harley

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I feel insecure right now, so I want a motorcycle to validate my manhood or something.

Anyway I want a motorcycle.

I have had two, back when I was young and foolish. Both were older rice burners.

I want a nice new or restored Harley, or one of those snazzy BMWs.

There’s a problem though. Both of my former motorcycles died violently. The first had the engine seize at 70mph. After laying down 100 yards of rubber and skidding sideways I finally squeezed the clutch and ended up in a high speed wobble. They say that’s unrecoverable, I wouldn’t know. I hit a guard rail and went airborne for a while before landing in a ditch by the side of the road.

(Note: Lying in a ditch by the side of the rode is usually a bad thing, but at least you get to recite Meatloaf)

Fortunately I was wearing my cool leather jacket and I guess that must have held my heart intact.

My second bike died while going ten miles an hour. I swerved to avoid a dog, and laid it down. It then flipped over me, and I got some serious road rash. The bike was trashed.

Anyway, that was more than 10 years ago, and the memories of the fear an pain have kind of faded, and since I’ve given up smoking and gotten married and had a kid and got a responsible job, I don’t feel very tough or dangerous anymore.

A bike will change that, so I’d like to get one.

Except I don’t think I’m immortal anymore. I used to be, and I’m not sure exactly how it came to pass that I lost my immortality, but I’m quite certain that I can be killed.

I think it started to happen a few years ago. I was no longer 100% invulnerable. While I doubt that I could have been killed by conventional means, I would have conceded that a large explosion with me at the center might do me some serious harm.

That’s quite a shame, because I remember when I was 18, if I drank a six-pack, I was bulletproof.

Now though, it seems as if any garden variety type of happenstance could squash me like a bug.

Again, I’m not sure how it happened, but there it is.

So when I walked into the BMW dealer today after work in my suit and male pattern baldness, the salesmen basically fell over each other running to assist me.

They have easy payments.

And, I tried on one of the 1200 cc beasts. Sat there and held the handlebars and imagined the rush of speed power and freedom. I waited to feel like the dangerous rebel again.

Instead I kind of looked around sheepishly and thought

“Damn, there’s no seatbelt. What’s supposed to hold me on to this thing.”

I looked at the lack of structural safety enclosures. I looked at the airbag that wasn’t there, and I thought "I guess I’m the fender.

Apparently this is a pretty common occurence because the salesmen showed immediately started telling me how great the new helmets were, and that I could buy a suit of body armor for when I ride.

Yup. Body armor.

A space age leather suit. At certain joints and other vulnerable areas it has these pads made of space age nazi sperm gel or something. Anyway, it’s supposedly soft and flexible during normal use, but becomes rigid protection in an impact. It’s got these pads running all though it, even some that protect the back and the neck as well as elbows and knees and such.

Actually I don’t think it was nazi sperm gel, it was something Herrflugershlugen Material and was mined by dwarves in the Black Forest especially for BMW riders.

Ok.
So then I checked out the Harley dealer.

Yeah, that Softail is a tough bike. I liked it.

It certainly felt dangerous though, no problem there.

They didn’t have any space age suits. They had leather chaps and denim.

So I went to the toy store and brought some Brik building blocks. That’s the name, Brik.

I came home, jogged and played with my daughter with the Brik blocks.

We built sky scrapers perched Elmo and Tigger and Piglet and Primitive Lego Man on top and then knocked them down.

After doing this five or six times innocently, I had a little epiphany of how apropos this was to current events, and I didn’t want to build skyscrapers and knock them down anymore which disapointed my daughter.

So now she’s taking a bath, and I don’t rightly feel like typing on the sheep story right now, so I’m writing this.

I really can’t afford to die right now. I guess that’s what it comes down to.

My wife could get over my not being there I guess. It would suck, but she’s an adult and she’d move on. It would be really unfair of me to not be around for daughter though. I need to be at the soccer games, I need to embarass her in public, and scare the shit out of potential boy friends, and beat up bad people that give her a hard time or hurt her feelings, and by her ponys and take her camping, and take her to Sesame Place and whatnot.

I need to be around because I am healthy and strong and smart and I can be mean and ruthless and unfair and commit great evils. I can violate rights and kill or die if that it what is needed to safeguard my daughter’s well-being, and damn all if every innocent two year old doesn’t need and deserve somebody like that.

I didn’t know all that shit was in the job description for “Dad.” Yeah, they told me, but I didn’t really believe it was like that, and I’d feel that way.

I’d see these guys around, wearing geeky pants and shirt with a dirty-faced brat on the knee, and I figured that you when you become a Dad, you just pretty much lose your ability to look cool.

I had no idea and really didn’t beleive that underneath the spit-up stained shirt, and behind the tired eyes there was really a fanatical berserker warrior, but there is.

Maybe fanatical berserker warrior-dad’s can’t afford motorcycles for reasons that have nothing to do money.

2

And if you smile a big cheezy grin, you’re the grill, complete with dead bugs impacted in the tight little spaces.

Awsome posting, Scylla. If’n I was you, I’d get a mod to delete this thread as fast as possible, and send it off to a parentint-type magazine publisher instead. Maybe you could sell that piece for enough to get your daughter’s first college textbook. Or the batteries for it, at least…

3

Damn it Scylla!
Just when I’ve rationalized myself into a new motorcycle you have to go and make me think about all that other, smooshy stuff!
Maybe I should get a station wagon instead. Crap.

4

Go for it. You seem to be a mature, responsible adult, who knows the pluses and minuses of the recreation. I’ve been doing it for well over 25 years, and can’t imagine not. I had my “incident” a year ago, 3 days in a coma, and permanent facial scars to boot, but I learned from my f*ck up, and have become a better rider for it. What kills me, is these teenagers, on crotch rockets, doing 120 between heavy traffic. They don’t know the pain they’ll cause their loved ones when their body parts end up as a pic of the day on Consumption Junction. We need more responsible riders out there, if nothing else than to help diminish the stereotype of the “bad-ass biker” so commonly felt by many of today’s 4 wheeling soccer mom’s, pulling out in front of us 'cos they’re late for practice. Be careful, be smart, and have fun…the biker community is like no other when it comes to brotherhood.

5

Scylla, you aren’t James Lileks in disguise, are you? If you’re not already, you should be reading his daily Bleats. http://www.lileks.com/bleats/index.html

6

There’s nothing like having a child to make you understand mortality at a gut level, is there? And insurance money just can’t replace the most important things a parent does for a child.

7

I guess riding a bike is more dangerous than, say, driving a car. No matter how well a rider you are yourself.

It’s your call, Scylla. If your gut feeling tells you you shouldn’t do it, then don’t. I haven’t been riding for long, but I do know one thing: when you’re on that bike, you HAVE to be devoted. Nothing else may enter your mind. No fear. You’re allowed to be intimidated by the machine, but it may never scare you. Full concentration is required, second thoughts have no place on a motorcycle.

Think long and hard, and talk to your wife as well.
(I know, I know. She probably thinks it’s pure madness anyway, right?)

Oh, and do me a favour. Think of me this saturday, 10 AM Central European Time. I’ll be doing my bike exam. :slight_smile:

8

Coldy You got your eye on the sort of bike you want once you’ve passed your test ?

Scylla

Why not turn your hand to restoring vintage machines ?

It has a lot of advantages, not least that much of the time it will be off the road until you get it just the way you want it, and its way cooler when you’re cruising round on lovely sunny days for a few miles than being on the latest fashion fad.

You could get your daughter to help you with the engine stripdowns too :slight_smile:

9

Even if you DO buy a bike, you may not actually ride it very much.

Once you learn that you’re mortal, you think about all sorts of things while you’re riding. Things like intersections, driveways, front-tire blowouts, seized engines, etc.

I bought a new Harley Softtail (FXSTC) 10 years ago. It’s out in my garage right now with a grand total of 7,500 miles on the odometer. It’s still fun to ride, I just don’t.

10

IANI* I ride just about everyday when it is not raining. While motorcycling can be dangerous if you take precautions you can have a safe, fun, exciting ride(s). So buy a Harley and a side car pack up ** Mrs. Scylla ** and ** Baby Scylla ** go find a shade tree off the side of the road and have a nice day. If you ride within your limits and stay alert you’ll be around for plenty of soccer matches and boy friends.

  • I Am Not Immortal, BTW I found this out in a car accident.
11

There’s only one way to find out that you’re not immortal, and that’s…hold on a sec…maybe…maybe you’re undead!

Hmm, anyway…

So, Scylla, when you die horribly, can I have your bike? :smiley:

12

You know, this sounded like an excellent idea to me right up until I thought about what that precious little girl would be expecting to do as soon as she turned 16. You think it’s intimidating looking your own death in the eye when you know you have a child depending on you? There’s worse to come.

I’m going to go lie down with a cold cloth on my head and consider moving somewhere without motor transport before my own daredevil girl hits her teens.

13

as a long time rider, i can say i don’t really recommend it, but riding is one of those things you don’t have to recommend. you either want it so bad no one can stop you, or you just kinda think about it then it goes away. i would say, if you have any doubts, forget it. someone said earlier that it is an activity that takes total commitment. i agree. don’t let yourself get fooled that short trips only once in a while are safe. they are all dangerous and you can get whacked pulling out of your driveway. (i almost was one time! all THREE times i have been hit by cars, i was within 5 miles of my home)

if you really want to, by all means-- go ride! but if your not really sure about it, grab the car keys!
(check out Ducati’s new models, too!)

14

I’m not, nor I have a particular desire to be, a motorcycle rider. But this really resonates with me:

I know exactly how you feel. My mom always used to tell me that she loved us kids more than life itself. I didn’t really believe that. I mean, sure, I knew she loved us, but MORE THAN HER OWN LIFE? Well, it took me having my own son to discover that, yes, it’s literally true. I had no idea of my capacity to love another person until my little boy was born. And anybody who tries to hurt him will do it only over my dead body.

So true. I just wish I could have said it as well as you did.
And by the way, you have my special sympathies—I am SO glad mine is a boy so I won’t have to deal with the boyfriends. Having been a teenage boy, I KNOW what the little shits are thinking!

15

Yeah. I’m buying a mate’s Yamaha Diversion 600. That’s the Seca II in the US, for those interested.

It’s the Volkswagen Golf of bikes. Reliable, not too dangerously fast, and predictable. I’ll probably get bored with it in 3 years or so, but that’s fine. If I manage not to drop it in those 3 years, I’m buying a Duke ST4S. :smiley:

16

I have no beef against bikers. Never had. Never will. Always admired their free spirit.

The afternoon I passed the scene of my inlaw’s motorcycle accident ( not their fault, they were T-Boned by a young girl in a mustang) on route to the hospital, changed how *I *felt about riding on one for the rest of my life.

My father in law was left paralyzed from the nipples down and my mother in law’s left leg, which took the brunt of the hit, was severed off. Yeah, severed off. It’s real funny in a horror movie, but in real life, it is barrel of morphine.
She also had severe head injuries too ( as she flew twice as far as my father in law before landing on the cement.)

Her leg is ok now ( if you don’t mind being able to predict the weather days in advance and limping), despite a year in a cast and having the surgeon peice the fragments of her shin bone back together like a puzzle and say, " Well, let’s see if it takes."
So, Scylla, I say this to you, one of my favorite writers on these boards, if you get yourself killed on a bike I will be mightly pissed off.

Oh, it was a BMW K-1 motorcycle. Electric blue with yellow detail.

17

I almost got another bike last year myself and couldn’t do it for pretty much the exact same reason. It was great while single and I could shrug off the wrecks I had. Now I can’t. The same thoughts go through my mind when I look at the kids. (It’s the opposite for the wife though. She wanted me to get another one, so I won’t out of spite cuz I know she wants my insurance money). What used to be fun is now scary. I also relate to another thread of yours about heights. I used to jump out of airplanes. Now I freeze up on a 12 foot ladder. I get the willy’s watching roller coasters on TV. Pain actually hurts nowadays, and a family really makes you realize how mortal we all are.

Great post as usual!

18

Okay, somebody help me out here. This Scylla guy is too perfect. Everytime I read something by him, my admiration doubles. I know one of you has to know where there is a post of his that sounds stupid, boring, or is a total turn-off. Please point me to it!

19

Oh, thanks, Scylla – make me all misty-eyed in front of the Tokyo office. Now they all think the new boss is a wuss.

Bravo on your writing, as usual. No father worth the title could possibly read your OP without being moved.

20

Hehehe. I am just laughing at those of you who read the OP and think that it was at all about motorcycles. Scylla your daughter is lucky to have such a father.