Norm
Senior FZ6 Advisor
As I got on the motorcycle today for the 6th day in a row, with my wife downgrading my status from crazy bastard to f$%^&ing idiot, I started to think: The first thought I had riding down 495 was will I get feeling back in my hands sometime today. It was 17 degrees with the wind chill. The second thought related to a special on 60 minutes. 2 guys were isolating a substance from red wine that apparently activates a "survivor" gene, or something like that. Eating very little also activates this gene. They had all kinds of research showing rats live longer, etc and one of the big drug companies bought the rights for 100's of millions of dollars if I remember right. As I rode I watched vigilantly for ice, frost, cagers, and adjusted my visor 300 times to close out the cold air and when the fog inside the mask dangerously obstructed my vision, I cracked open the visor, only to feel the sting of the cold again. My only thought: survival. And I liked it. I believe riding activates the survival gene. It gives us life, soothes, if not heals, our ailing and aging bodies. It is the very danger, the thrill if you will, that vitalizes an otherwise unthreatened and dangerously complacent and indulgent species.