Life's a ride, baby!

When I was a little boy in Northern Indiana, I remember sitting on the front steps of my house one fine summer evening. I was perhaps six or seven years old, but no more than that, I'm sure. While I was sitting there, a guy on a big, rumbling motorcycle appeared at the corner just a few houses down from me. A seven year-old boy will notice something like that every time. The guy came to rest at the stop sign there and then he turned and rumbled in my direction.

I remember thinking how utterly cool it was that he was going to pass by! I felt a rush of excitement! I paid close attention because, man, I wanted to see that cool motorcycle! I wanted to see it more than anything else in the world! I watched wide-eyed and as the guy passed by, he looked over at me, smiled and nodded. How cool was that!? He quickly looked away, his eyes back to the road and he rumbled away. I watched him until he reached the end of the block and rumbled out of sight .

Now, I couldn't tell you what the motorcycle looked like or it's brand or it's color. The rider is faceless to me now. In my memory, he's just a silhouette. An image. But what I do remember is how super-cool I felt that some badass guy on a badass motorcycle gave me a nod and a moment of recognition --of me, some anonymous kid! A little nobody! And what I remember deeper still is that in that small moment, I too felt like a badass  -just by association. No, that's not quite right. By acknowledgment! Yes, that's it! Wow, a cool dude like that giving 'props' to a little dude like me sitting on his steps on a summer night just before dark. It was a kind thing for that guy to do.

Last night I ran an errand as I often need to do after work and once my errand was done, I decided to ride home along a different route. I wanted to take a few roads with slower speed limits to prolong my time. I ended up passing through a nice old neighborhood. It is very pretty. It's a tree-lined one with old houses and new cars in their driveways. It's one were it seems every lawn is nicely kept and stylish. I rumbled up to a stop sign (looked both ways, of course!) and turned the corner. I passed a few houses and by chance, I looked to my left and there, sitting on the steps of one of the nice houses, was a little boy. He may have been six or seven years old, but no more than that, I'm sure.

I noticed that he was watching me with his mouth slightly hanging open. He looked a bit comical and mesmerized. I smiled at him and gave him a nod. I gave him some 'props', if you will. And just before I had to turn my eyes back to the road, I saw his hanging mouth begin to turn up and start to change into a smile. Then I was gone. I rode to the end of the block and out of sight. And that's when the memory that I shared with you to begin this recollection came flooding back to me. It came in such detail I felt weird but wonderful. And when it came, I felt like I had travelled back through time! I really did. But what was the most astounding part of it was that I felt like I was transported, not only back in time, but I was transported there only this time on the other side of the mirror! I was experiencing the same event from TWO perspectives separated by some forty years! The feeling was wonderful and enlightening. It was one that I have never felt before. I can only say that feeling was "magical". Having no frame of reference for such a thing, I can't explain it further and I won't try. 

This morning arrived cool and even. There was little mist in the air. I woke, dressed, coffee'd and headed out to my motorcycle and pointed it toward the place I work. After a couple of miles, I turned onto one of the pretty farm roads I take and the thoughts and feelings of last night's interaction with that little boy again filled my head. I rode along through the countryside. And while I rode, it dawned on me that I was riding alone for the first time in a long time. Almost always there are others in my head with me. Family and friends, bosses and co-workers, tasks and to-do lists. And conversations. They run and rerun. But not this morning. It was just me.

Actually, I should clarify that. This morning, it was just me and the little boy that I was almost a half a century ago. After all of this time, he's still with me. It's really good to see him again.