Wednesday, August 3, 2011
I had one of these in high school. I didn't want my driver's license; I wanted one of these. Dad tried his hardest to talk me out of it with many incentive-laced deals, but I had my heart set. He even said he'd get me that All-American car. Call me crazy! And by the way, many did. Nope! Not me, not then. At the time, there was a new Honda dealership opening on Forest Avenue, and I wanted in. When Mom and Dad reluctantly said yes, I paid the full price of $250 out of my paper route savings and excitedly drove out of the lot with my pride and joy. Why a bike and not a car? Well, sometimes I'm still puzzled by it myself. Maybe it was the freedom of having the wind in my hair and I had a lot; maybe it was just me listening to that 'different drummer' again calling me from off in the distance. Thank goodness I still hear that beat today. Was it the ad in the glossy magazine that touted "over 200 miles per gallon"? Are you kidding me? I guess I just needed to get it out of my system. I enjoyed immensely those years with my trusted friend. No, loved them! So few years really, so many memories made.