Back in the Saddle
The first time I ever got on a motorcycle, I only rode it for a few minutes before I wiped out.
I had borrowed it from a friend. We were seniors in high school. He and his younger brother had each had one, but the brother had left it — and all his other worldly possessions — behind to go into the seminary. It was the brother’s bike I was riding. A Kawasaki EX 500. All black with gray trim and some purple and blue racing stripes. (Hey, it was the nineties!) My friend, not too big on wordy explanations, had