Back in the spring of 1999, I rode out of the Honda/Suzuki dealership in Waterville, ME with one of my largest purchases since graduating college the spring before...a brand new motorcycle, a Suzuki Katana 750. At the time, it was the only thing that I owned to which I held the title. It was mine... My wife and I have a lot of fond memories on that motorcycle, from just going for a leisurely ride around town to "flying" down interstate 95 (I think we might have broken the 130 mph mark a few times..., yes, this was BC - before children). When we were married in the fall of 2000, several of our wedding pictures were taken on that bike. We rode it to Acadia National Park and Bar Harbor, ME. I even got my mother, the woman that told me once that it would be over her dead body when I got a motorcycle, to ride on it with me during one of her trips to visit Tiffany and I in Maine. (granted it was just in the hotel parking lot). We enjoyed riding with friends of ours, who also had bikes. When my wife and I were buying our first house, we rode the motorcycle by the house nearly every evening while we were waiting for the sale to close.
The motorcycle was a symbol of independence. Thinking back there was probably an element of maturity to it (believe it or not) regarding a young man (although that does suggest that I may not be a young man any longer...bummer) who was starting to forge his own path in life, make his own choices, control his own destiny...
Now, fast forward 12 years. Between getting married, full time employment, starting a family (a child born in each of the following years, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2009, 2011), enrolling in an MBA program in 2000 and finishing in 2005 (the "one class per semester" plan), two corporate driven moves and all the rights of passage and other life events that occurred in between, I found myself looking at my motorcycle this spring (2011) and reflecting on the mileage on the bike and realizing that despite all the memories, we really have not ridden this motorcycle all that much. There was only 6200 miles on a 16 year old bike (the model year was 1995, it was a dealer holdover when I bought it). Yet, we were paying to insure and maintain it every year...was it for nostalgic reasons only? Did I truly believe that I would ride it more this summer, like I had been telling myself every spring for years, or was I kidding myself? I think the final straw was taking the bike in to be serviced this year. About $450 later (damn ethanol fuel...) I decided that there is a season for everything, and this was not necessarily the time in our lives where a motorcycle still made sense. So, I decided to sell it (note that I said that I decided to sell it).
So, I listed the bike on Craig's List and it was only a few days and interest was being expressed. After about a week, I received a text message from a "young kid" (18 years old) that was interested in the motorcycle. He came by, looked at the bike and asked if he could come back with his father a little later. After thinking to myself, "yea, right..." I agreed and to his credit, he came back a few hours later with his father and they bought it on the spot. I was feeling pretty proud of myself, having sold the bike so quickly, as I came inside the house (with a big wad of cash in hand) to get the title and print the bill of sale. I returned outside to complete the sale and after the new owners drove off with the bike, I came back into the house and only then realized that my wife was in the kitchen, holding our newest daughter, with tears in her (my wife's) eyes.
Immediately, I asked what was wrong, thinking that maybe my wife just hurt herself somehow, maybe she banged her funny bone, cut her finger or god forbid got some bad news on the phone. But, something told me it was none of those. It turned out she was upset over the sale of the motorcycle. She was upset that she did not get to take one last ride on the bike (aka...say goodbye). I did not recognize until that moment that while I saw a motorcycle that despite some good memories, was underutilized, was costing us money and taking up space in the garage, my wife saw it as an "end" to an era, the "death" of a piece of our past, one of the last mementos of a part of our history as a couple. The sale of that motorcycle represented one of the last symbols of a time in our life that we will never get back.
Through the last 12 years, our lives have experienced an immense amount of change and as a result, we have (right or wrong, good or bad...) changed along with it. That bike was from another time in our lives, a persistent symbol that has remained static while the rest of our lives have been in never ending flux. It had become more than just a motorcycle to her, it was part of us, a piece of our history, a symbol of a time in our lives where we as individuals became an us...arguably a simpler time in our lives where we had our entire future ahead of us.
Despite the occasional reminiscing of those times, I think Tiffany would agree that we would never give up what we have today to go back to that time, but the motorcycle, like a trophy you earned as a kid, or like a college yearbook was a conduit to the past, to a different time where there are fond memories, and now it is gone.
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