Directions from Carlsbad, CA to Midway Home Entertainment in San Diego, CA.
Woke up with a kink in my neck on the right side.
I started up my motorcycle and the engine wound up to a deafening roar, the throttle stuck open. The rear wheel chirped against the asphalt of the freeway and the whole bike lurched forward out from under me. I used all my strength to hand on to the hand grips and the motorcycle bounced upright on its rear wheel as I wrestled it under control.
Hoping this was to be the only hiccup on my maiden motorcycle commute to work, I checked my mirrors before pulling out of the emergency lane on the left side of the freeway.
I found that I ride much the same as I drive a car although in the freedom surrounding the motorcycle I was much more attuned to the traffic patterns I nestled into, picked apart, and carefully monitored and predicted, finally appreciating the joy of passing, always passing.
Along the road to work, I stopped in at Brent's, seeing as he was heading the same direction. His apartment looked like a Karaoke bar, and he was next to perform from underneath an old blanket sitting on a La-Z-boy recliner.
The Karaoke emcee rejected my song choice of "The Next Frieda In Town" as one that was too obscure, suggesting instead that Brent sing Elvis Costello's "The Only Flame In Town"
