Today I woke up rolled over and looked out the window. The sky was blue, there was a bright orange item in the sky I hadn’t seen for a while. Visions of happiness danced through my head, could I be through this awful illness? Is my motorcycle gassed up and ready to head out the for a day of endless curves? Did the temperature outside really say it was ten degrees above freezing? Then a voice of reason hit me like it has so many times lately. The wife whispers to me “Its okay Grumpy, your fever is making you hallucinate again!” Yes I have a bad case of motorcycle fever!
Motorcycle fever has several stages, for me it usually starts somewhere around mid October. Insurance on the motorcycle expires and I consider renewing it for one more month. The wife knows this and she locks all our spare money in a mushroom can. She knows I won’t go anywhere near mushrooms. I try to convince her, she just shakes her head and says not for one more ride you’re not doing that. Motorcycle fever sets in and I get this nauseating feeling that winter is here. It’s going to be a while before I feel better.
A weekend or two goes by before the next stage of motorcycle fever sets in. It always happens on a Saturday and really sets me back for the weekend. I have to go out and buy gas stabilizer in the morning, fill the jerry can with gas for the gas tank top up and sadly prepare my motorcycle for winter. This creates the second stage of motorcycle fever also known as depression.
Mother nature is cruel during these early stages. I often wake up to days where I stand beside my bike and say “Self, why didn’t I reinsure my motorcycle?” It hasn’t snowed yet, its really warm today, and they haven’t even sanded the roads at all yet.
During the third stage of Motorcycle Fever, you join a support group. The group meets weekly, usually heading out under the pretense that I need to give a buddy a hand. I suggest to my wife she should come and visit with the spouses to get out as well. In reality it is because I now I am going to need a ride home. I will not be able to drive legally after the meeting.
During the meeting, in which beer is a required item, we stand around one of our bikes, discussing what we are going to do to each of our motorcycles this year. This is another sign, delusion is setting in. There is no way my wife is going to let me spend that kind of money on the motorcycle without her being able to spend the equivalent amount of money on something of her choice there just isn’t the money to do both.
Deception is the next stage of motorcycle fever, I try and convince my spouse to allow me to spend money so I can do the work on my motorcycle that I told the support group I planned on doing. The wife, just glares at me and talks about giving up Sturgis this year and visiting their parents instead. With the conversation not going very well, and not a chance of wanting to spend time with the outlaws I quietly walk away. I get this great idea and buy it anyways, charging it on the credit card. I brag to all my friends, both inside and outside of the support group, that your items are on the way.
That leads to the worst stage of motorcycle fever, torture. This occurs when I get home from work and my wife is standing in the doorway. Her foot is tapping the floor, it sounds like an elephants foot is hitting the floor. I say kind of meagerly Hi Honey, what’s the matter? I look around behind her and I see the box from motorcycle madness, with excitement in my voice I screech I don’t believe it, the guys from the support group really did buy me something, I wonder what it is
She cuts me off quickly and says Ive already seen the credit card statement, and unless you have given the support group our credit card information they didnt buy it I try to convince her that maybe they stole it, but to no avail, she knows it was me.
The silence that has fallen on the room, isn’t interrupted by the dinner I bought her at McDonalds. I am to broke for anything else at this stage, mainly due to the purchase of my new motorcycle accessories.
Then suddenly the next stage of motorcycle fever kicks in and it really is painful, the humiliation stage. It starts during our meal at McDonalds. She says “Going to give my parents a call. I’ll let them know we will be there during the beginning of August”
This terrifies the hell out of me. I ask about going to Sturgis. The snappy reply from her tells me that it is either Sturgis or my new motorcycle toys. I beg, cry, whine and beg some more but in the end I have to tell all my buddies I am returning the toys to save my summer. I have to phone the store and telling them I’m returning the items. They ask why and I send them an audio of what my wife said to me. The salesperson now understands, also asks me if I have many physical injuries from her fit.
After this point we are down to the final stage, also the longest stage of motorcycle fever. It is called the hopeless stage. During this stage, I just try to survive. There is a lot hallucinations about it being an early spring. If the ground hog sees his shadow, I refer to him as a lying scum bucket. If he doesn’t see his shadow, I jump up and down, celebrate, call everybody on in my support group. An emergency meeting is called, we all head to the garage with beer. We scream and yelp as a group together. We make plans to go riding next weekend. Finally at 2am I open the garage door to head home and we see the 8 inches of fricken snow that has fallen since we entered the support garage. Silence falls upon the group.
Over and over scenarios like this happen over the next several weeks. Sometimes leading into months before the first true sign of springs arrival appears. My wife’s brakes on her car go. It’s exactly the same amount of money that I have saved for motorcycle insurance. I hope that two weeks later, next payday, will be the final day of this brutal stage. Right up until I walk out of that insurance office the feeling hopelessness will continue to make me feel like something is about to go wrong and extend the sickness known as motorcycle fever.
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