TUK TUK GOOSE

20 year old memories of my adolecense emerged unexpectedly as I sat on the bike for the first time at my motorcycle safety class last week. 20 years ago, I was 15 and sitting in my first day of a summer driver’s ed course, learning which way to turn your wheel when parking at a curve and the finer points of evasive maneuvers. Just a few weeks prior I’m sure I was a passenger in my older cousin Lisa’s car, working the gear shift on her car as she drove…  jamming to Bel Biv Devoe and The Jets along the way. I remember what a big deal it was to turn 16 and get your license, so much built up excitement.  Sooo much riding on learning something in the drivers ed class and passing the drivers test. Taking motorcycle classes at 35 isn’t  that much different.  they use a lot of the same tactics: a few scare-you-to-death-don’t-drive-to-fast videos, cheesy acronyms to get you to remember stuff (FINE-C = startup procedure = fuel line, ignition, neutral, engine, clutch; SEE = Search, Evaluate, Execute)… As it turns out, my taste in music hasn’t changed much either. I’m still jammin to Bel Biv Devoe. “Poison” is timeless. At both times, I was so anxious thinking about why I was in the class in the first place that I was having a hard time paying attention to the enough-already-cheerful instructor. When I was 15 I couldn’t wait to drive to the mall by myself and pick up my friends in the morning on the way to Blue Springs High School. This time, I was preparing for a crazy cannonball run meets team in training adventure with my dear friends Seema and Rommy. Due to some unanticipated shiz our team realized late in the game that one of us needed to get a motorcycle license. I took the bullet and had a narrow window to take 5 hours worth of class and 10 hours of riding time. In addition I needed to pass a riding test and a written test. Oy. On the bike, I felt a rush of anxiety and excitement with the engine underneath me. I liked it better than I expected and had no problem shifting and turning… It’s really all about the hips. Look left push left, lean left, go left.  (insert Shakira ‘hips don’t lie’ joke here) I am a disaster when it comes to going slow and doing turns. There’s this crazy exercise called the U-turn box, basically the size of two parking spaces — you have to go realllly slow and make two u-turns.  Eff. I liked to think my short torso makes this task naturally more difficult for me. But wow, I know that’s a lame excuse. Well I failed parallel parking on my drivers test when I was 16 but now I’m a pro… So I figured I’ll figure out the uturn thing some other time (not that it’s ever going to come up) I passed the riding test and just *barely* passed the written test a few hours before my flight. Just in time to run to AAA to pick up my international drivers permit and catch my flight. I’m going to make those lessons count, I figure. I think the first thing I have to do is teach Seema and Rommy how to ride so we can get the party started. I. Can’t. Wait. – Chris / via iPhone /df