I recall a day, way back in… hell, it was a long time ago – but my brother Matt and I were in front of our house on Rehling Street, and we looked up the road and saw a moving van in front of one of the houses. With the innate sensibilities of Youth, we acknowledged that there was a strong statistical probability that whoever was moving in up there was probably a family, and as such there was an equal probability that there would be kids involved. (We didn’t phrase it quite that way back then, but you get the idea…)

We trundled up the hill to the house, and met Pete and Del Friedman, who would become the best friends I’d have until 1982, when I met ‘Squith. Absolutely great guys, intelligent as hell, and probaby [hopefully] having very happy lives out there, somewhere.

Their Mom, Sonya, was very nice to us… but their Dad – golly whiz, their Dad was about the coolest guy you’d ever want to meet, as a kid. He rode a classic green Triumph Bonneville. He never, ever took us for a ride – that motorcycle was “terra-can’t-go-therra” to us chillun’s… but seeing him tear-ass up the street on that bike caused me to set a goal for myself.

A few years later, my Dad (a damn cool guy himself, tho he doesn’t ride!) finished a recently-published book called “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”, by Robert Persig. He made the mistake of leaving it where I could find it… and I’d get up early in the morning to read it… not understanding maybe 70% of the concepts and implications of the story… but it made a big impact on me even so.

Somewhere in there, a film was released called “Easy Rider”. You know, as of this date in 2007, I have never seen the movie – but oboy, down at the Harmony Hut in Marlow Heights there was a black light poster of Peter Fonda as Cap America on the chopper… which found its way onto the ceiling of the bedroom that Brother Matt and I shared. I’d lie awake in the blue-black glow of the room, with the fluorescent colors of that poster burning overhead, and dream of growing up, when I could have my own chopper. [I still have that poster, displayed on the wall of my studio. Yes, there are also black lights here, too… I guess I’m just a hippie born too late.]

When we moved to Accokeek, we lived just up the street from the Cantors, who aside from having a couple of the most gorgeous daughters ever to grace the planet, rode a couple of tricked-out HD chops. In retrospect, I guess that house represented a small slice of haven to me, between Stacy and Stephanie and the Hogs!

Well, here’s the curious thing – I mentioned to my parents that I wanted a chopper someday, and you can guess what their reaction was. I told myself “well, someday I won’t be in a position where I let their judgment control my actions”, and promised myself I’d get to it. Somewhere along the way, “life happened”.

It was quite a few years longer than I had planned, but I bought my (first) motorcycle in 2002. I’m saving the chopper for my upcoming mid-life crisis.