My first motorcycle was a mint condition 1976 CB750 Four with the four cylinders straight across.
I was given the bike from a motorcycle shop I did the accounting books for around 1990 in lieu of payment for services rendered when the shop closed up. Subsequently, the Honda was flipped into the grass later that same year and the top of the handle bars were smashed up and the rear fender and light. I have kept it all these years in the hopes of rebuilding her and riding on it just one more time. It’s way too tall for me as I only have a 29 inch inseam, meaning I have short legs for a person of five foot eight inches tall.
Since that time another 76 Honda CB750 Four was purchased by my daughter’s boyfriend with the idea that we would turn the two into one finished and running bike someday in the future. These two bikes in various stages of disrepair and dilapidation sit in my garage awaiting further damage from my total lack of mechanical skills.
I can come up with brilliant ideas all day long but I can’t take something apart and fix it to save my life. As any true blooded member of the male species this fact escapes me on a regular basis as evidence of the collection of crap not fixed in my garage including two large motorcycles.
I didn’t get my next bike until February second of 02’. 02/02/02 I’ll never forget when I got her because of the date. It is a 02 Kawasaki Vulcan 800 Classic in purple, my favorite color.
My boys, who are pictured in the Post, Turns in Time, from August of this year, were talking amongst themselves on the way to school the other day. Having a conversation together.
Hayden, 4, was telling Garth, 2, that they were going bike riding later. He explained how Daddy and Mommy would ride Daddy’s bike. Kristy (my 21 year old daughter) and Darren (Kristy’s boyfriend) would ride Darren’s motorcycle. Hayden went on to explain that they would just have to clean up the other two bikes and they each could ride one of them.
Obviously it never occurred to me that all they, the two Honda’s, needed was a little cleaning. I love listening to the boys and their straight forward approach to the world. I never occurred to me that to them the two bikes are fully put together motorcycles and ready to ride. I pray one of them grows up with a mechanic gene intact and can help dear old Dad finish some projects and clean out my garage.
To those math wizards trying to figure out the age differences between the boys and my daughter, I started over again at forty something. Families come in all shapes, sizes and ages. The important thing is we are all together, we love and care for each other the way families should.The link to the “Turns in Time” Post http://thomaswilsonstoryteller.blogspot.com/2012/08/turns-in-time.html