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You Got To Please Yourself |
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by Diane Gross
Do you remember when Rick Nelson performed at Madison Square Garden? He looked different than how his audience had remembered him, and he didn't play what they had bought tickets to hear. Since it wasn’t what they expected, they booed him . . . and thus came his song "Garden Party!" I think often of the chorus: “…But
it's all right, now, I have no clue exactly when I decided that I wanted a motorcycle. One day I just said, "I want a motorcycle!" Although my heart sang for a Harley, my wallet cried, “No way can you afford it!" I was willing though to settle for anything I could afford -- just to live my dream -- just to HAVE a bike. I imagine this is going to be a trip that will last until my body lacks the strength to ride or until I'm so dead, and someone will have to pry my cold, tight fists off the throttle that I have learned to twist! It all began with a salesman at a dealership in Macon, Georgia. He kind of hesitated, asking if he could help me. I felt his curiosity as he paced the showroom floor nervously looking around, wondering where my son or husband were (the salesman was so sure I was shopping for them). Was it my age? What? I don't look "the part?” I guess I shocked him out of his gourd when I said, "I'll take this one!" He immediately asked, "For you?" I just smiled at him -- and then calmly and softly said, "What … is this a problem for you?"
They asked if I had ever ridden -- or even been on the back of a motorcycle. I assured them that I HAD INDEED NOT! They got back out of their truck and showed me where the key went; how to turn the gas on and off; how to check the oil. They gave me the book and watched me move the bike in the driveway while actually using the throttle. They felt confidant by then (obviously) that I was doing just fine, especially when I beeped the horn on my own -- so they bid me adieu. Now what? I was alone -- just the Black Beauty and me. I felt her huge body from one end to the other. I was so excited that I felt NO FEAR (I need to get me one of those T-shirts). In two hours I had her racing down the hills of my neighborhood at a whopping 30mph (no laughing please)! I was so elated that I had gotten her all the way to third gear while circling my block... up and down the hills... round and round, over and over …. YEEEHAWW! I couldn't wait to show off (isn't earning cool points a big part of riding?). I ran inside the house and grabbed a cold beer to toast myself. I called my friends and then rode to their house only a few blocks away. I just needed someone to actually see me in action! Another beer and well wishes from my friends and then it was time to go -- our celebration needed to end (I had no license and it was getting dark). I slowly backed the bike out of their driveway to get back into the street, but it was leaning too far and something wasn’t right. The back tire was drawn quickly into a metal sewage drain and I knew immediately that the bike was way too heavy for me to handle. Down I went under her, smashing off a pedal and crushing my arm between her and the metal drain. I learned three things that first night: I realized I needed practice and training; I knew I had better not drink and ride; and I was amazed that my neighbor still had it in him. His wife screamed for help and he ran out of his house to save me, just like the day he ran to a wounded soldier -- dragging him to safety in Vietnam and winning a medal for his bravery in combat! He lifted 500-plus pounds right off me in one swooping adrenaline-fueled motion. I was hurting (body and feelings), yet amazed at his chivalry and strength. That is, until it was over! Forty pounds and 32 years later, this man’s body was put to the test and his sheer determination carried him through the crisis. But then, when it was over, I hoped his pale, sweaty face was not telling me he was about to have a darn stroke! He held his chest firmly, and quietly mumbled profanities while making his way slowly back inside his house! I felt so foolish. So overwhelmed! (I wonder if he was really cussing me?) I rode the VStar back to the house, not yet knowing how much gas I needed to give her to get up the steep drive and so, down I went again! This time my 15-year old son ran outside to help, yelling at me in frustration (definitely in a roll reversal mode), scolding me like a parent, screaming, "Mom, dang it! Don't drive this thing again until you get your learner's permit!” A week after the VStar purchase, during my daily 2-mile walk, I was drawn towards a nearby motorcycle shop feeling this terrific urge to step inside its doors. I needed gloves anyway -- but I felt something more beckoning me to enter. Remember that song? I heard it in my head…. it said: Just
a walkin’ down the street ...
I did, with my “SportyGirl” -- a Harley Davidson 1999 Sportster 883 that I had dreamed of owning -- and now I do! The first time my legs embraced her body of black metal and chrome and I heard the roar only a Harley can make, I knew I was leaving a garden party and heading into that sweet, pine scented, Georgia breeze! "HarleyGirl Diane," as she's known in biking circles, can be reached by email via her real name, Diane Gross. Read HarleyGirl Diane's other stories -- click here. |
A
year ago the thought of riding a motorcycle (a Harley at that)
at my age would not have entered my brain! Now I can hardly think
of anything else -- but this isn’t about wanting to just ride
a motorcycle. It's about having an attitude and being a bit selfish.
It's about taking time to enjoy my own thing and to experience
something brand new -- just for me ? whether it raises eyebrows
or not! 
D-Day:
DELIVERY DAY! Here she comes - a Yamaha VStar Classic 650 black
and chrome (Harley Fat Boy Look-Alike)! I guided the delivery
guys to my house using my cell phone and sitting on the grass
in my front yard not wanting to miss one single moment. They unloaded
her and then started to just leave. "Hold On!" I said, "You can’t
just go! I need to know stuff -- like where does the key go and
where's my lesson?" 
I
just could not believe my eyes! There she was standing tall and
proud... saying, "Take me home. Come on--- take me home with you!"
I DID! Oh my! Now I'm paying for two bikes! Yes, I feel a little
guilty, but I'll get over it. Remember? "You’ve got to please
yourself!"