Sunday, May 4, 2008

Inside the Box

A package arrived in the mail a few weeks ago addressed to my husband and me. It came from his brother and sister-in-law in California. I didn’t want to open the box. We have had two family deaths recently, each a month apart, and my fear was that this might be someone’s ashes. Why I would even think that is a long story for another time.

A few days later, my husband finally opened the box. We both looked inside and chuckled. It was a motorcycle ornament, complete with biker Santa. On the base is a button, that when pushed, plays Let it Ride, by Bachman-Turner Overdrive, embellished with motorcycle engine sounds.

While in California, for one of the funerals, we took time out on a Saturday to attend the California Bike Week at the Pomona Fairplex, to which we dragged along Tom and Donna. I suspect they may have been a bit bitten by motorcycle fever that day.

Motorcycle Santa has joined a collection of other cherished bikes and motorcycle memorabilia, all gifts from friends and relatives. I used to display my collection proudly in my office at work; however, because of the changing times, the collection in now availably for private viewing only.

As I made room for Santa, I became awash with memories, as each piece has a story. The people fondly remembered, or the circumstance relived in each piece. I’m not sure what motivates people into gift giving without any special occasion, but I am all about personal growth, and I feel I am learning a lesson here. With Tom and Donna’s ornament gift, outside of the Christmas Season, I feel they are expressing, in their own way, the enjoyment of a day spent outside of their normal routine.

I am not going to presume what others were thinking behind their gift giving. I do know that some think I’m crazy for risking life and limb, some have admiration for those who are not afraid of a challenge, and I suspect others are living vicariously. It doesn’t matter to me at all what they think. What matters to me is that they are all an important part of my life and I cherish them as much as their thought behind the gift. The lesson...there is more inside the box than just an object.

Here is a sampling of my collection. The first piece given to me, interestingly, is also the tiniest motorcycle in the photo. This small motorcycle to the largest is a physical representation of how the collection has grown. You can see Santa to the left, still in the box. He’ll be proudly displayed next Christmas in an honored spot on the tree.


Good Bye, Hard Life
Don't Cry Would you let it ride?
Don't Cry Would you let it ride?

You can't see the mornin', but I can see the light
Ride ride ride let it ride
While you've been out runnin' I've been waitin' half the night
Ride ride ride let it ride

And would you cry if I told you that I lied and would you say goodbye Or
would you let it ride? And would you cry if I told you that I lied and
would you say goodbye Or would you let it ride?

Babe my life is not complete I never see you smile
Ride ride ride let it ride
Baby you want the forgivin' kind and that's just not my style
Ride ride ride let it ride

I've been doin' things worthwhile, you've been bookin' time
Ride ride ride let it ride

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