Rides

Friggin’ Harley.

I’m a Harley-Davidson widow.

Summer finally showed up, and with it came sunny days. Sunny days are great except for one thing: John wants to take his motorcycle out for a spin. The problem with that is that even if the kids could ride on it with him, they most decidedly will not. Which means I have to stay awake with the kids. Which means John doesn’t get to do it as often as he likes. But then when I do finally have a day off, he will come up with any excuse to get it out. And it’s a big production. Ride for an hour or so, but then there is no chance in hell that he can put it away dirty. So then he has to wash it. And maybe wax it. And then the chrome needs some polish. And wow, those whitewalls need some special kind of treatment or cleaner or some shit. And then it has to cool so he can cover it up again. Really, y’all.

So today, I was off. And there was a bike rally at Newport on the Levee and John wanted to go. I figured it was a way for him to take out the Harley and  for us to spend time together on my day off, so I agreed to go. Of course what makes this amazing is my preconcepions of bike rallies. I have seen pictures. And heard stories. People having sex on motorcycles out in the open. Topless women and pantless men. John’s dad, sister and her husband, and more go to Sturgis often. I have literally seen a photo of a family friend with some old man wearing chaps and nothing else. Yeah. Schlong out, folks. Of course I know that this was not going to be like that, but still…Me. At a bike rally. I wore yoga pants and an old college tee. Amidst the chaps, leather vests, bandanas, and more fringe with which you could outfit a cowboy bar. Wait–not that kind of fringe. Black leather fringe. John wore jeans and a tee. And parked his bike at the end. And we walked forever, perusing the vendor booths. The only things that said Harley Owner about either of us is that Zach’s stroller is orange. And John had on his riding boots.

We had fun despite the sweltering temperature. We looked at bikes. I found some I liked at the display set up by Harley of Cincinnati, and the sales guy heard me remark something about trading John’s in for this one or that one. He asked John what he had, and John told him. The guy literally told him that, while he would love to make a sale on a 2011 model, John’s bike was the top of the line for that style. I got a kick out of it when, upon John mentioning that his wife bought it for him, we got the same reaction we do from any guy: “Now I need a wife like that!” Yeah, I win the Cool-Wife award, apparently.

Of course this was the first time I used Zach’s new ride. I didn’t get the Peg Perego. I fell in love with the Baby Jogger City Mini, mainly because it is all-terrain and we can use it for fitness needs as well as all-purpose use. It isn’t too bad in price, either. I love that it can be customized with anything from a belly bar or snack tray for Zach, to a cooler that mounts to the rear axle. I especially like the mp3 console, which is a battery operated speaker/ dock for an iPod that also has a storage compartment and a cup holder, and actually broadcasts the music into the stroller for the baby. Of course it isn’t included, and is only available oniine, but  I will definitely be getting that. But, what they don’t tell you is that these added features are expensive. By the time I paid $239 for the sroller, without any discounts because Baby Jogger prohibits BRU from allowing them, a snack tray with a cup holder for Zach, and the console for us, I would’ve saved money by buying the Peg Perego. Other than this, I am thrilled with the stroller and highly recommend it if you can afford the price.

So that’s all for now. Leavin’ you with some photos.
Yeah, this is where I couldn't find John's in the line up. He was appalled: "YOU PAY FOR IT AND YOU CAN'T EVEN TELL IT APRT FROM THE OTHERS???"

Zach in his new ride: His face was red from the heat and we had to stop in front of these industrial-sized fans to cool him down.

Covered in duct tape. Really. Amidst chromed-out Harleys that cost more than a lot of brand new cars.

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