Pixy Misa has a lot of games and videos and has also gone and named me as one of his two Blogfriends! I feel so very honored by such! I just wonder if it comes with the privilege of borrowing any of his games and videos?
NZB has been hard at work trying to let us all know how popular our blogs are, and I am glad to see that I am still in the top 250 in the Blogosphere Ecosystem, although I am exactly #250 currently, and am also near the top 250 in daily visitation. Of course, I have now been blogging exactly 3 months and 4 days, and still have not been mentioned by Glenn Reynolds.
Kevin at Wizbang, who not only did a marvelous job in my stead doing last weeks' reviews of the New Weblog Showcase, has also decided to take on the Carnival of the Vanities by hosting the Bonfire of the Vanities: a showcase of the bad and ugly posts submitted by bloggers.
While so many were off playing, Susie was busy blogging. As is her custom, Susie has patrolled her favorite sites and, upon hitting mine, expressed her glee at my return from the camping trip. She also pointed to John's harrowing brush with death, which refreshed my memory to a similar incident that happened to me many years ago.
I learned to ride motorcycles when I was 12. Almost my whole life, I owned a motorcycle and was an avid motorcycle rider. When I was going to law school in Houston, I regularly rode to classes on my motorcycle. One evening, as I was leaving for home, it began to rain, as it does in Houston from time to time. I had been caught often enough in such situation, so I did what I regularly did, pull off my shoes and socks and stash them in a waterproof container, roll up my pants legs and put on my rainsuit over the rest of my clothes.
Now, most people who do not ride motorcycles do not understand that even the smallest drop of rain feels like a pellet shot from a pellet gun when it hits your skin at even moderate speeds. As I where I lived was only approachable if you ventured for some distance on I-10, and knowing I could only proceed at speeds nearing 20 mph, I was riding along the access road. I came to an intersection where the light was red and I stopped. I was barefooted.
The light turned green, and I began to proceed slowly through the intersection when I heard sirens right on top of me and could see flashing red lights immediately to my left in my peripheral vision. I was ready to feel the full force of a speeding emergency vehicle slam into me at full force. I froze. I could not move. It must have taken me less than a second to discover that the ambulance was sitting at a stop but it played like an eternity in my mind. I eventually realized the paramedics had likely only gotten the call and engaged the sirens as the light was changing. They were calmly waiting for me to clear the intersection so they could proceed.
Thankfully, I did so, but for some reason, I have been less than enchanted with riding motorcycles ever since that experience. I never bought another one after that one, and only rode it when it was absolutely the only form of transportation available.
Posted by Tiger at July 7, 2003 07:01 PM | TrackBackWhen I was younger, my dad told me he would buy me a motorcycle just as soon as I could bench-press 350 pounds.
I've ridden on the back of many a cycle and LOVE it but the way people drive today, I can't say that I feel particularly safe on one anymore. (car drivers that is)
Maybe someday when I get older and decide I need to move to the country, (should that happen), I'll reconsider getting a bike.
Posted by: serenity at July 8, 2003 08:38 AM