When I was six, I rode on my first bicycle. Going about 10 mph, I fell off the bike, skinned my knee and threatened never to ride that thing again. I got back on; it must have been the need for speed.
It was that adrenaline rush that made me want to jump on that bike and try going 20 mph. I felt as if I had a typical childhood, but when did going 20 mph on a bike become 110 mph? Am I taking crazy pills, or is that just absolutely insane?
Actually, I don't think insane is the correct word for doing 110 mph on motorcycle. The closest word is idiotic.
The whole idea of the "crotch-rocket" is absurd to me. Who in their right mind thinks it's cool to blow thousands of dollars on a bike, hundreds on safety gear, and then ride around acting hard?
I truly feel bad for the people who spend all that money on trying to be cool. It is especially cool when there's a big gang of crotch-rocket riders, creepin' around the streets of Ball State. It makes me feel like I'm missing a big part of my life. Maybe I'll try buying one of those scooters.
Crotch-rockets only face their ultimate end -- the idea of being uncool, a fad going out of style. Just think: Once, kids only made fun of kids who couldn't ride bicycles. Then mopeds were the hip-happening thing going on. Now, we only make fun of people who still ride mopeds. The scooters were cool for two months a few years back. The crotch-rockets will follow.
How many adults, age 30 and older, ride crotch-rockets? The only ones are going through a serious mid-life crisis, drink Starbucks (because it's the cool thing to do) and hang out at college bars trying to pick up unsusceptible college coeds, all while they're going bald and have enough back hair to make a rug.
If only my life could be like that.
Apologies should go to those who actually enjoy riding those types of motorcycles. Eating is one of my favorite past times. I've tried eating a whole bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos before without anything to drink. Living life on the edge is my motto as well.
That crazy thinking is the reason I work for a newspaper, taking on the crotch-rocket riders of the world from this lowly-old computer. Actually, it's a MacIntosh G4, and it can haul ass too.
It's great that there are safety classes for riding motorcycles. I'm glad to hear that not everybody is completely mindless when they got on those death machines, but sad that most people don't even attend these classes.
Instead, they jump on closest crotch-rocket they can find and do 110 mph wheelies down busy streets in Muncie. And of all places Muncie. Who are you going to impress? And are you crazy? Because there are potholes every five feet.
Riders should be more responsible with the "cool" bikes they own. It's scary that bikers think there are two types, those who have been in an accident, and those who are going to be in an accident. Isn't that a lose-lose situation?
Write to Chris at cjmihal@bsu.edu
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