I bought my first motorycyle when I was 16, growing up in a small town in southwest Iowa. My little Suzuki 50 cc caused quite a stir since I was the first kid to get a motorcycle in town.  Prior to my motorcycle, the only other "bike" that the town had to deal with was a Cushman scooter.  I remember my mother telling me that a respected church member had spent the whole afternoon trying to convince her to make me give up the bike because it would threaten my spirituality, destroy me academically, and lead me down a dark road to ruin.   Fortunalely my mother had greater respect for my judgement, and the only thing she asked of me was to drive responsibly.

After graduating from college, I moved to southern California and bought a Honda 350 that I rode for several years. Then one night on a freeway I had to take evasive action twice to avoid getting creamed by drivers who were not paying attention. The events of that night and other near misses convinced me to sell my bike and take up "safer" hobbies such as hang gliding, scuba diving, horseback riding and sea kayaking.

Fast forward to last summer; I had just turned 60, my daugher was leaving to study in Europe for a year, and I got this strong urge to buy a cruiser before I was too old to have a mid life crisis.  I expected my wife to talk me out of it, but she surprised me by encouraging me to get the bike I wanted.  So when this VTX 1300C named Old Yeller followed me home, it got to move in with us!

At first I thought riding the new motorcycle would save me money because the price of gas was so high. I didn't realize I was about to be overwhelmed by the fun factor.  Now I like explorig the back roads of Ventura County, tooling up and down the Pacific Coast Highway, and searching for the perfect hamburger in places that are off the beaten path. I get a kick out of letting Old Yeller tell me where to go.

Riding solo means that I can go as slow or as fast as I want, and I can stop and enjoy the view whenever the urge strikes me.  But it also means there is no one around when I want to share my discoveries.  Likely I will be joining other riders before long.  It would be nice to have someone around to share a laugh, a hamburger and a beer.

Oh, and regarding that admonition about mororcycling down the road to ruin; after all these years I can laugh and say, "Hell No! Life has been good to me."

This may be a little off topic, but it's something I thought was well worth sharing.  Playing For Change has a web site with a video of Grandpa Elliott singing a heart felt rendition of "God Bless America" at Dodger Stadium.  Grandpa Elliot is blind.  Until the Playing For Change band picked him up, he made his living as a street musician playing in the streets of New Orleans.  He's been an inspiration for those who have struggled to rebuild New Orleans after Katrina. Here's a link to the video: http://www.playingforchange.com/episodes/11/God_Bless_America Hope you enjoy it.

Dave Barry's Colonoscopy Journal:I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointmentfor a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a colordiagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place,at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis ...Then Andy explained thecolonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because mybrain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOURBEHIND!'        I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription fora product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold amicrowave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice itto say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America 'senemies.I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.        Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. Inaccordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all Ihad was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor.Then, in the evening, I took the Mov iPrep.You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then youfill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system aliter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takesabout an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like amixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.        The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a greatsense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowelmovement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump offyour roof, you may experience contact with the ground. MoviPrep is a nuclearlaxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen aspace-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with youas the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt.You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurtingviolently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must betotally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point,as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and starteliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.        After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning mywife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worriedabout the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts ofMoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?'How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would notbe enough.        At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood andtotally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to aroom full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a littlecurtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospitalgarments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on,makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.        Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was alreadylying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I ponderedwhat would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom,so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have nochoice but to burn your house.        When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, whereAndy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. Iwas seriously nervous at this point.Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist beganhooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing inthe room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. Iremarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during thisparticular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate. 'Youwant me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' Isaid.        And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade.If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, inexplicit detail, exactly what it was like.    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I wasback in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.. Andy was lookingdown at me and asking me how I felt.  I felt excellent. I felt even moreexcellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon hadpassed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.ABOUT THE WRITER:  Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnistfor the Miami Herald.        On the subject of Colonoscopies...        Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quitehumorous.....        A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by hispatients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:                1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!'                2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'                3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'                4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'                5. 'You know, in Arkansas , we're now legally married.'                6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'                7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out....'                8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'                9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!                10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'                11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'                12. 'God, now I know why I am not gay.'                AND THE BEST ONE OF ALL:                13. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'