At some point it happens to all of us, I suppose. We hit a certain point in our lives where we feel a need to scramble a bit to find that “something” we missed out on. Excitement and danger used to be our middle names for crying out loud. Our youth is screaming at us to not let go, but we feel its hand slipping from ours as we hit middle-age. For some it might be traveling to far away places making up for all the years of the same old routines, while others might feel the need to alter their looks by bringing back the physique of our youth, either surgically or naturally – depending on your pocketbook or desire to exercise. You pick.
Working in the motorcycle business as I do, I see the chase for a cure to solving the mid-life crisis come in the form of buying a motorcycle. The sense of urgency to grab hold of something that will not only make us feel younger, but also (hopefully) make us look younger to those who might happen to notice. These are the guys and gals my age who have missed out on the danger and the sense of lawlessness that only motorcycles can bring. They see bikers portrayed in a way that says “that’s what I’m missing in my life.” Badass? Yes, please. Lucky for me, I averted my mid-life crisis when I was twelve years old. That’s when I started riding and let’s face it – I’ve been a rebel ever since.
There must be something in the smell of leather and exhaust that feeds the cure. It creates a different heart beat in our chest and allows the years to fall off our faces. We know when the engine fires up and the wind hits our face, there isn’t a beauty-aid or an over-the-counter drug that can be any better. The “Fountain of Youth” is a gas pump and we bikers discovered it. But living on the edge and finding that youth has a price and right now it’s about $3.15 a gallon.
We all have our ways of dealing with getting older, and I am a believer you’re only as old as you feel and your physical age has nothing to do with it. I have always felt like I’m in my twenties – even to this day. I will admit my face looks almost wrinkle free (when I’m riding down the highway) and though the gray in my hair has taken over it hasn’t affected my attitude. But I still think the mailman put my dad’s AARP mail in my box by mistake.
So what ever your Fountain of Youth is, drink it up (unless it happens to be premium gas) and ride off into the sunset. Find your youth and appreciate the wisdom you’ve gained along the way – just be careful, you’re not as young as you used to be.