Never too old for a mid-life crisis

Having turned sixty, an absurd act on my part, wholly out of character with whom I feel myself to be, I've decided to focus on throwing myself into a mid-life crisis.

Now, there's good reason to argue that every day of everyone's life should be experienced in crisis mode, following the Zen adage of whole-hearted "hair on fire" living.

But the older we get, the more we understand that our days are limited. As is the value of our investment portfolio, particularly after the past few days.

A neighbor who's in my age ballpark cruised by a few summer months ago in a silver Miata with the top down. Naturally my first words to him included the phrase mid-life crisis. He replied that his wife told him that he's too old for one, that he must be having an end-of-life crisis.

I disagreed, pointing out that sixty is the new forty. So both of us had plenty of years to cultivate our mid-life crises.

If you think too much about how to throw yourself into a mid-life crisis, you're not having one. A crisis demands fast-acting intuition, responding to the situation without hesitation.

That said, my analytical side doesn't like to be ignored.

Thus for quite a while I've been pondering what to give myself when I turned sixty. Like my neighbor, my first (and really only) thought was what sort of two- or four-wheeled transportation would best mesh with my mid-life crisis psyche.

I've lusted after a Mini Cooper ever since they came out. However, God has not answered my prayer to have one delivered to our driveway. This led me to (1) become an atheist, and (2) turn my attention to two-wheeled cheaper alternatives.

Over a decade ago I had a motorcycle. Eventually, though, my wife's frequent prediction that I was going to kill myself helped lead me to sell it and get a Honda del Sol – which offered a quasi-open air experience but wasn't nearly as much fun.

Eventually it dawned on me that if anybody is going to take physical risks, it should be older people, because they have the fewest years of life left to lose.

With this solid philosophical foundation to guide me into older age guilt-free lusting, I felt free to fire up Google and explore today's two-wheeled motorized possibilities. Soon I came upon the Suzuki Burgman 650 maxi-scooter.

Yesterday I put down a deposit on the 2009 model, choosing white for its yin-yang balance (and visibility). It likely won't arrive until February of next year or thereabouts – in time for dryer and warmer Oregon weather.

I felt great as soon as my VISA card passed over the counter of the Suzuki dealership. My mid-life crisis had taken another turn down the just do it road. Tonight we're going to our fourth Argentine Tango lesson, more turn, turn, turn.

Dancing, particularly Tango, is a two-footed version of motorcycling/scooting. You're in the moment, not trying to get anywhere particular, intimately connected with your surroundings, not thinking much. I've vowed to do more dancing and less worrying from now on.

And, come spring, more scootering. I won't get a lot of respect from the Harley folks, but they're them and I'm me. I was pleased to see on this You Tube video, though, that the two can coexist.

My favorite part is around the seven minute mark, where a guy on a Sturgis street filled with Harleys yells to the Suzuki Burgman 650 driver, "Dude, what is that?!" He's told, "It's a giant scooter."

Here's a faster moving Burgman 650 video, showing how quiet they are compared to a Harley.

Comments

[Harry Vanderpool]

Congradulations on your purchace, Brian!
My first Suzuki was a 1972 125cc.
I purchaced it on payments from my Capitol Journal paper route.
Now I enjoy my GS-1000 Suzuki.
5 gears. 85 mph in second at redline! ;-)
Harley? Whats with a harley?
I was at a gathering of bikes several years back and, long story short, after alot of cheap shots ended up in a friendly, private drag race.
Just as we were ready to launch, I threw up my hands in the air and announced that I wanted to impose restrictions on the race at which time an explosion of laughter erupted in the air.
Then amidst cackles and howls, I clearly stated that I at no point in the race would go beyond 3rd gear, just to be fair.
Things got quiet.....
But in the end, truth prevailed and so did our friendships.
Harleys are a fine bike if you are not in a hurry, and by the way I am not.
....
Brian, are you going to be a motorcyclist, or a motorbike-driver?
Liz and I know 3 guys that crashed their brand-spanking new Harleys on the way home from purchacing it. One of them twice.
Here's the answer:

http://teamoregon.orst.edu/to_web/index.shtml

Please stop by and show it off when you are out in my area!

[Rain]

As mid-life crises go, that seems like the potentially least damaging-- if you gotta do one *s* I had a friend, who lives in Portland, take his scooter clear out here to our farm (about 80 miles or so); so they can range a long way-- if someone is patient :)

[Brian]

Harry, I've done the Team Oregon training, but could use a brush-up. For sure I'll take their one-day review course, and maybe even the hands-on riding course again.

Yesterday I watched some You Tube videos on countersteering, to get back into the groove. With this scooter, you don't shift and you have ABS. That takes two complexities out of the equation.

I suspect that failing to initiate a turn with counter-steering is another big reason why new riders dump their bikes. Like the videos point out, counter-steering is counter-intuitive: push left to go left? Huh? That's the opposite of what you do with a car steering wheel.

Rain, you're right -- about the forms mid-life crises could take. Regarding patience on a scooter, what you say is true with a small Vespa or whatever. But a maxi-scooter like the Burgman is a powerful motorcycle disguised as a scooter.

One of its appeals is that you can get a t-shirt that says, "My scooter can go 120 mph. Can yours?" See:
http://burgmanriders.com/burgman-rider-columns/steve-rhode/1177/charles-his-cool-shirt-and-his-burgman-650/