Darn.

I’m a neutered rabbit, a toothless lion, a venom-less cobra. I’m the white stuff on baby carrots, the oil on peanut butter, pop rocks candy mixed with soda. I’m the flat on your spare tire, the latest Volvo, the mole you always had.

I’m not dangerous anymore. I used to be. A little.

Today I sent in my driver’s licence renewal, and I decided to have my motorcycle class removed from it. This marks the end of my 20 year-long dream of ever getting another motorcycle. Just as I am getting to a point in my life where I can probably buy a darn motorcycle, why do I chose to walk away from this?

I’m tired of arguing with myself – mostly – about getting a motorcycle. I think managed to annoy myself to death with this issue. Should I get one, should I not get one? I have the money, but I could use it for (insert house/family related project here). I rode the Alps on a motorcycle, it’s one of the best memories of my life. I also had a motorcycle accident and could’ve died. What if I get into another accident? What if I die? What about my kids? My Lovely Wife?  When would I go for rides without it looking like I was abandonning the family? But it’s fun riding a motorcycle and I miss it. Lovely Wife said “do what you want”, but I’m not falling for that one again.  

So as long as I had the possibility of riding, I would’ve been thinking about it.

Now I can carry on and continue with my plans for World domination. I just won’t be doing it riding a motorcycle.