Newsday has lately been full of stories about motorcyclists getting killed. Discouraging! And I've also been getting some negative vibes out of Stanford, which could impact my moving to California, which is where I really wanted to be with my motorcycle. Why does life hate me?
But screw all that. I'm planning to get to the DMV this Thursday or Friday to get my learner's permit, and then I'll have to decide if I want to take some lessons first and then buy, or buy first so I've got a bike here to practice with between lessons. (The latter is probably the better choice, but I'd really like to be able to test drive a new bike around the parking lot before buying it. Alas, that probably won't be possible.)
So, once I've got a bike, and can ride it, I'll be in the position of wondering how badly I want to force myself to move to Cali in the event I'm not accepted to a school there. It's weird how our wants push different aspects of our life into focus. I want to live in a fun in the sun place and either be at school or be able to chill and work on my writing. And I want a motorcycle and a Jeep and that big-ass 30-inch monitor for my Mac. Ideally, Scott will strike it rich and I'll move into his happening new pad and live rent free and have sex with the maid. (Of course, I'll film the sex and then post it on the Internet, which is how I'll make my own fortune, which I'll use to buy tons of political influence, eventually catapulting myself into the Presidency, and then and then I'll tell the rest of the world it needs to get its shit together, and then I'll drop a few nukes to show I'm not fucking around.
And it'll all because I went and bought that motorcycle.)
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The Motorcycle Song
words and music by Arlo Guthrie
CHORUS:
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want to die
I just want to ride on my motorcy...cle
It was late last night the other day
I thought I'd go up and see Ray
So l went up and I saw Ray
There was only one thing Ray could say, was:
CHORUS
Just last week I was on my bike
I run into a friend named Mike
Run into my friend named Mike
Mike no longer has a bike. He cries:
CHORUS
©1967-1969 Appleseed Music Inc. (ASCAP)
Dude! My dad sings that song all the time!
as well he should
As well he does!
As for me, I just want a pickle.
And a pickle shall be yours!
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