,,,And I haven’t indulged my addiction for at least 15 years, And perhaps that is part of what’s wrong with me. 🙂

My addiction was forged quite innocently, in the early seventies, when I learned about (among many other things) racing motorcycles in the desert (along with that On Any Sunday meme of absolute escapism.). I learned this all.

Do you get me? All this festered and fostered, in the kettle of Los Angeles, until, in the late ’90s, whether I was on four wheels, or especially on two, the freeway was like the desert, except the pucker- bushes moved, and would run over you if you fell off.

I’m still trying to figure it out. But just believe it’s me on a 74 ci Harley FLH, with some dude on a 600cc Rice Rocket just on my tail. It doesn’t matter – it’s all about the line. It’s quite mesmerizing. Moving along at 60 or 70mph through stop-and-go traffic, to distract any portion of your concentration on anything other than the task at hand is an almost certain trip to the emergency room – or quite likely the morgue.