G put his air-soft gear up for sale. A while later he was contacted by a guy wanting to trade. What did this guy have to trade you wonder, well, a 1989 motorcycle. Of course he texted his dad about it asking for an opinion before ever talking to me about it.
But let's back up a bit....when we were looking for a car for him he mentioned several times that he wanted a motorcycle. I would just laugh and say good luck with that.
So now here we are and this guy wants to trade his project bike for all G's air-soft gear. We talked about it and by talk abut it I mean he talked and I made faces and sighed. Before I knew it there was this motorcycle in my garage, not just any motorcycle but a 1989 crotch rocket. I'm still processing this, I don't want to say it's ironic but I can't think of another word. I want so badly to think of a way to explain what I am feeling but I can't.
He's 17.
It's his money/stuff.
He's only 17.
He earned that money he can do with it what he wants.
He's responsible.
He's worked hard.
He's ONLY 17.
My brother had a motorcycle at 17.
My brother died in a motorcycle accident in 1989.
He was on a 1989 crotch rocket.
I'd be a hypocrite if I protested and said he couldn't have a motorcycle.
So here I am, this motorcycle is in my garage and my son is so excited about it. Every 20 minutes he says "guess what? I have a motorcycle". Am I happy for him, yes, am I worried? I wasn't until I found out the motorcycle was an 89....so many thoughts, emotions. All the emotions are irrational, it's just a year. All it is is a year. Also, what if G was meant to have this motorcycle just because it is an 89.
HOLY HORSE BUCKETS!!! This draft is from 6/28/2017
I am so shocked I never finished this one. But anyways, he's on his third motorcycle now at the age of 23. The one he has now he crashed, on the freeway. He slid across 4 lanes of traffic. It could have been so much worse. I was going to tell that story but I think I'll save that for a new post.
But let's back up a bit....when we were looking for a car for him he mentioned several times that he wanted a motorcycle. I would just laugh and say good luck with that.
So now here we are and this guy wants to trade his project bike for all G's air-soft gear. We talked about it and by talk abut it I mean he talked and I made faces and sighed. Before I knew it there was this motorcycle in my garage, not just any motorcycle but a 1989 crotch rocket. I'm still processing this, I don't want to say it's ironic but I can't think of another word. I want so badly to think of a way to explain what I am feeling but I can't.
He's 17.
It's his money/stuff.
He's only 17.
He earned that money he can do with it what he wants.
He's responsible.
He's worked hard.
He's ONLY 17.
My brother had a motorcycle at 17.
My brother died in a motorcycle accident in 1989.
He was on a 1989 crotch rocket.
I'd be a hypocrite if I protested and said he couldn't have a motorcycle.
So here I am, this motorcycle is in my garage and my son is so excited about it. Every 20 minutes he says "guess what? I have a motorcycle". Am I happy for him, yes, am I worried? I wasn't until I found out the motorcycle was an 89....so many thoughts, emotions. All the emotions are irrational, it's just a year. All it is is a year. Also, what if G was meant to have this motorcycle just because it is an 89.
HOLY HORSE BUCKETS!!! This draft is from 6/28/2017
I am so shocked I never finished this one. But anyways, he's on his third motorcycle now at the age of 23. The one he has now he crashed, on the freeway. He slid across 4 lanes of traffic. It could have been so much worse. I was going to tell that story but I think I'll save that for a new post.
Comments