So, my father being the rebel that he is , bought a Harley at age 65. He loves to ride! He once owned a motorcycle in his twenties when he was in the Air Force, and then, again when I was in high school. He sold the second one to help put my sister and me through college. When I was visiting in August, I let him take me for a short- very short- ride around the neighborhood. If I remember the one-sided conversation correctly, it went something like this:

Dad, don’t go too fast . . . slow down. . . slow down! (Meditative deep breathing -hyperventalating – more meditative breathing.)

He is proud of his Harley- I am proud of him.