The “birth”.

Today is the first day. The very first day. I have never blogged…heck, I had to call technical support just to find my blog. But when you want something bad enough, you will stretch and perhaps find a niche.

My blogging will be about something I love. Motorcycles. I have loved them since I was a small girl. About three years old. My father bought a beautiful Harley Davidson and would take me for rides zipped in his leather coat. Today that would be forbidden but back in the late fifties, things were much different. My father and I would ride to my mothers workplace to bring her lunch. We would sit outside and wait near the railroad tracks that ran down the back of the building where she worked. I would anxiously await the train because only after it had thundered by would my mother be free to come out and sit with us and eat. I imagined that the train held her inside and released her only after passing the building….kids and their imaginations!!

The best trip on the motorcycle was the once a month visit to the Harley dealership when my father would pay his payment. Every month they would give me a little Harley Davidson motorcycle to take home. I had a very nice collection by the time the bike was paid off. They were metal with real rubber tires. They looked great in the window of our apartment for all the world to admire. I would give anything to have those in my possession. But, alas, they met the same fate as my rock, baseball card, and shell collections. (darn parents).

My mothers sister was married to a man that was a California Highway patrol officer. He rode a Harley. A really big Harley!! My father wanted to be a police officer, as well, but he was too short. Yes, back then cops had to be tall…and a flight attendant had to look like a fashion model. Go figure. So my father bought the bike and made the best of it. Just after the bike was paid off….no more little motorcycles for me….my beloved uncle was killed in the line of duty. He was in a chase and was hit driving through an intersection. That was a truly sad day for the little three year old girl. I didn’t understand it all and to top it off, my father sold his bike. He never had another. I missed my uncle and the rides on the bike with my dad. Yup, a truly sad day.

What happened to me back then was that I knew I was in love with motorcycles. I love to look at them, work on them, fuss over them, and ride them. I prefer to be on the front but never object to riding on the back. As I have gotten older, and clumsier, I have decided to build a trike…..safer, according to me. My last bike was a lovely little 883 hugger that went up for sale when my grandson came to live with me and I needed quick money to pay for legal fees. Now, I love my grandson but, every time he misbehaves I remind him that I gave up my Harley for him. Isnt guilt great!!! hehe.

So….there you have it. The birth of “Everything motorcycle”. I have a lot to say about the subject so check with me every now and again and see what kind of things I’m talking about. And, talk back! Would love to hear about the things your doing and saying and maybe we can learn something from each other.

Until then……………..Lady Godiva on wheels


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