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Mike gets permission!

I had always ridden a motorcycle of some kind from age 12 to about age 23. I remember when I turned 14, many, many years ago my Dad, God rest his soul, bought me a brand new Honda 350 Four cylinder. Growing up I was always a small lad, heck I couldn’t even touch the ground with both feet on that thing but I managed to ride that sucker anyway. I eventually wound up on a Honda 750 Four while the wife and I were going to college. (AMF Voit owned Harley-Davidson at the time and I couldn’t afford a case of oil each week) We were so broke she had to take a job flippin burgers at Hardee’s while I bar tended but we still rode our bike. As a matter of fact I’d take the back streets when I’d take her to work on the bike because I didn’t want anyone to see that damn Hardee’s uniform glowing in the wind! You may remember the late 70’s, Hardee’s employees wore lime green and brown. You could not miss them in a dark alley!

 

Anyway, back to the story, one day (about 2003 or 2004) my neighbor, Freddie, who lives here in Jacksonville, down the street from me bought a new H-D Silver Anniversary Deuce and spent about ten grand on extra chrome and would ride the living hell out of that bike. I’d get sick every time he cranked it up and left my ass sitting in the drive way. After a few months of this personal inner pain that I was experiencing due to listening to that V-Twin engine with Vance & Hines pipes I just couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to find a way and the money to get me a Harley. The wife and kids were always telling me not to do it and I know that they were scared that I’d bite the dust BUT I kept on thinking about that Harley-Davidson that I wanted. I started what I called “my Harley Fund” and dropped hints as I walked by the better half. After all the kids were pretty much grown now and I had waited for over 25 years since I owned the last bike. Maybe Momma would let me have one. I’d save my extra change and even some bills were saved to where that I thought I could make a down payment.

 

One day, the motorcycle gods smiled on me. I was in my car riding down the road and there it was. I actually rode past it a time or two before I stopped and got out of the car. Here was a beast of chrome and I wanted my name on it. This brand new looking H-D was sitting there and to beat all hell it was actually chained to a stop sign. Yep, sure was, it was for sale and the owner had chained to a damn stop sign. Well I got out of the car and looked it over. Great looking paint job with a bunch of chrome and no scratches! Man, what a beauty, but I suddenly realized that my wife would kill me if I rode that baby home. I noticed out of the corner of my eye a man walking down the street towards me and I was kind of thinking, does he think I am crazy? Here I was parked on the side of the road looking at a motorcycle chained to a stop sign and this stranger, I mean a BIG man, kept approaching and closing in on me. As the stranger approached, he said, buddy are you interested in that bike? I said to him, that I wished I could buy one and man, was this a dream bike, BUT my home life was pretty much happy right now. I laughed but he didn’t. He then proceeded to tell me that he owned it and was selling it but that he really didn’t want to get rid of it. He and I spoke a few minutes and then I had to ask a few questions. How many miles were on it? He said, 2,500. I said man, that’s low mileage. He explained it hardly ever got ridden. I then asked him, what year is it? I was thinking 2007 or 2008. He said, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I said well it looks like a new one. Nope, he said, it’s a 2001 model that I bought off a guy two months ago. It was garage kept because the previous owner was scared to ride it. I said, man, that’s too nice of a bike to just sit on in the garage! What a beautiful bike, I exclaimed! Perfect condition, never been dropped, lots of chrome, he was asking a fair price too, BUT deep down I knew my wife would have my head if I purchased that bike. I was so confused! Feeling dejected because of my real desire to have a Harley and my desire to ride that thing, I knew that time was wasting and it was time for me to go home. I had to ask him one last question. Here it goes…Mister, why in hell would a man sell such a great motorcycle in such great shape? He politely answered in a soft voice and said, I failed to get permission… I had a thought or two running through my mind but I kept listening to him. He explained that she won’t ride it or even talk to me anymore. He just could not believe it. I was thinking to myself, poor bastard and then it hit me! What was I thinking, here’s my chance! Maybe a one chance in a million. I said, Mister, would you do me a favor? He said, yes. I then asked him, how about riding that thing around the corner and pull down my street and rev those pipes up real loud AND SEE IF I CAN GET PERMISSION. True story!

 

He did, the wife loved the bike and reluctantly said yes. I PROMISED TO LOVE HONOR AND CHERISH!. The wife too! What a great woman!

 

Now guess who jumps on the back of that thing every time that I crank it up? Yep, you got it, the wife. I think she’s addicted more than I am. I know she has better looking motor clothes than I do and loves to ride that bike. I actually go by the name Mike but she likes the name BOB for her. (bitch on back) True story! 

 

Dewey Michaels

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