I remember wanting it so bad. My friends were into it. When I first got on it my parents told me the things I shouldn't do, and of course, those were the things I did first.
My mom and dad financed the addiction at first, but I had to do odd jobs to get the extras. Paint houses, clean my dad's office, mow the yard. But the more I did the more I wanted. Soon I was dipping ice cream at the mall to be able to afford it. Then cleaning up wrecked semi trailers full of stuff at a salvage warehouse. My high school friends ( not really friends but you know) were going to football games, surfing, and doing regular stuff. Every week I lived for Friday so I could get out and feed the monkey.
My dad said "son if we'd of known how it would turn out like this we never would have gotten you started". He always wanted me to play golf. Golf didn't even begin to scratch the itch I had.
College and Marriage
I did manage to get out from under it for a few years. But it was always there just under the surface. I tried to be normal. I took up hunting again. But as soon as I got a little extra cash I went to my nearest dealer. Before I knew it I was back into it again, only bigger this time.
I drove 2 hours one way just to be with others who shared my problem. Even changed jobs to be closer to the action. Even traveled out west with it. It has left me unable to enjoy regular travel since then.
The Kid
After he was born I introduced him to it at a young age. And now he's showing the tell tale signs of the disease.
And Now
So I'm 61 and still addicted. This disease has hurt me, even put me in the hospital, but yet I go back. I plan my week, even my year, on being able to feed it.
On the positive side, I've met most of the friends I have because of it. I have changed the delivery system over the past 6 years but that seems to have made it even worse.
Of course I'm talking about my addiction to two wheels.
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