A MOTORCYCLE IS BETTER THAN A HUMAN BEING
We have all seen the emails why non-human objects are better than humans. There is little doubt that daydreams and inanimate objects provide a temporary and partial relief from the stresses and strains of interpersonal relations. Since motorcycles are fabulously dynamic and emotionally engaging, they are awesome recreational “companions.”
It’s in this spirit that I offer you the following observations…
Number 10: Motorcycles never play hard to get. Once it’s in your garage, you don’t have to seduce it, persuade it or bargain with it when you’re in the mood to be together. If you’re up for a ride, and the bike is physically able, no negotiation or patience is required on your part.
Number 9: With proper maintenance, a motorcycle doesn’t have to age. As years pass, a motorcycle may look dated or compare poorly to younger models with more advanced technology. But whatever it did well for you at the beginning, it can continue to do well for you with a little care. It won’t become weak or senile, have a mid-life crisis or fall prey to disease.
Number 8: Motorcycles don’t mind being replaced. Whether it’s time to sell or you chose another from your stable for today’s ride, a motorcycle won’t fly into a jealous rage or send you on a guilt trip because you prefer a different partner. It will wait forever for you, or endure your rejection, without advanced notice, explanation or agreement.
Number 7: If a motorcycle isn’t the way you want it to be, you can change it. Short of replacement, motorcycles allow for a great deal of modification in the service of ongoing partnership. If you dislike something about them, they don’t take offense if you say so, or resist your efforts to make them look and behave the way you want.
Number 6: Motorcycles don’t mind when you’re too busy to give them any attention. Got extra obligations at work? Want to spend time with a friend in need? Maybe you’d just rather commit the next few weekends to your backhand or putting. You won’t get any complaints from your motorcycle, even if you’d rather vegetate in front of the television instead of doing that valve adjustment you’ve already put off for a month (see Number 5).
Number 5: Motorcycles don’t care if you send them to someone else to get their needs met. No motorcycle is going to get upset if you hand them off to a mechanic when they need help. You won’t be thought of as a fair-weather friend, as unable to deal with another’s dependency, or as being interested only in taking and not giving.
Number 4: Motorcycles don’t talk back. Although another person’s ability to respond can be an extremely valuable aspect of interpersonal relations, sometimes those responses can be pretty painful. Not so with the motorcycle. Its silence allows us to hear our own thoughts more clearly, get them sorted without interference, and express them without self-consciousness or apprehension.
Number 3: Motorcycles have no personal agendas, hidden or otherwise. You don’t have to wonder what a motorcycle is really thinking, what it really wants, or how it really feels about something. The interaction is always honest, and as long as it doesn’t run afoul of the laws of physics or your own poor technique. What you ask for is what you’ll get, without any need to compromise in consideration of the motorcycle’s goals, fears or schedule conflicts.
Number 2: Motorcycles are never in a bad mood. A bike may need repair or be unable to perform a certain task. But it will never protest because of hurt feelings, hormonal imbalance, or a frustration it encountered earlier in the day. You do not have to take into account how the week’s demands have made it understandably irritated or depleted.
Number 1: Motorcycles are always ready and able to teach us something new. You can go down to your garage at 3:30 a.m. and demand a lesson in cartridge fork disassembly and your motorcycle will readily comply. Regardless of how well you ride, your motorcycle will always have a new challenge for your skill development. Listen carefully, you might just learn something.
By Mark Barnes, Ph.D.



