OK, that’s it. I am done riding motorcycles. DONE! Never mind that I have only been on motorcycles three times in my life and only two of them were times when the motorcycle was moving and only one of those was when the motorcycle was moving on a public street. That public street was, in fact, an Interstate Highway between Greensboro, North Carolina and Black Mountain, North Carolina. My brother and sister-in-law were cautiously concerned as I climbed on behind 6′ 2′ Phil Pisercia with his long red hair. I did not see anything to worry about.
Now I do. Not because of Phil, though that might be a reasonable cause for worry. I’d be more concerned about a) motorcycle and b) Interstate. Big trucks and cars moving fast. Random things in the road. Other drivers. That other drivers thing is the biggest cause for concern. Imagine, for instance, riding a motorcycle behind a car which is suddenly cut off by another car and has to stop quickly, forcing you to stop quickly, forcing you to decide quickly whether to hit the car or lay down the bike.
Knowing that the car in front of him held a mother and child, not to mention steel and glass, my friend George laid down his bike on Friday. In laying down his bike, he laid down his life. George, with is quick smile and a gleam in his eye, is gone. My friend Ralph used to say that he did not feel sorry for people who had passed on, he felt sorry for all of us who are left without a friend, a husband, a brother or a dad. George was all of these things, and I will miss him very much. I will not miss riding on motorcycles.