Winning Story!
I'd never particularly wanted a metallic-purple and white motorcycle, but when you buy something off e-Bay you usually don't get much choice in things like color. And since I virtually stole my 1995 Honda Shadow from the guy who was selling it on e-Bay several years ago in the next county over, I figured I could learn to live with a purple bike. I'm secure enough with my own masculinity as far as the color went; it's just that I've always regarded purple to be sort of like orange--one of those colors that exist just to make us appreciate other colors more. After buying my bike, I was surprised to learn that some people actually LIKE purple. "Cool!" enthused Emily from down the block. (She was nine at the time). "It's the same color as Barbie's Dream Car." Yeah, but can Barbie's Dream Car go zero to sixty in eight seconds or do wheelies? Okay, so maybe my Honda can't either, but I don't like the comparison. Through the years, however, I've grown to really like the color, which, to dignify it, I've dubbed "Aubergine Metallique" ("metallic eggplant"--pronounced in the appropriate Pepe LePew French accent). So now, if my bike is sitting amongst a group of other bikes, I can spot it immediately. I've been riding bikes since Jesus was a cowboy, and had NEVER had strangers approach me in parking lots just to tell me they think my bike is cool--until I got my purple Honda Shadow. Surprisingly (or maybe not), the vast majority of these people are older--and I mean REALLY older--women. Which is cool with me. As I enter the springtime of my senility (I'm on the shady side of fifty and am proud to admit it), I figure, hey, take it when you can get it, you know? And it doesn't just stop there. One day last summer I was at a red light in downtown Santa Barbara (where the old people come--to visit their parents) (hey, I can say that--I live there) when a nice-looking guy, probably in his early twenties started across the crosswalk. He looked up, saw me sitting there behind my mirrorized aviator sunglasses and Catfish Hunter mustache, made eye contact and said, "Ooooh, daddy!" adding, "Love your bike!" That kinda made my day. As I say, take it when you can get it. When I bought a new GMC Sonoma pickup a few years ago, I made the mistake of choosing that generic pickup color that's been around for a decade or so. You know the color--you can't tell if it's beige or gray or gold or something in between--General Motors calls it "pewter," only it's not. It's the color that your wife says is tan and you say is gray. Yeah, THAT color. You know what I'm talking about. Ninety-five percent of the pickups in the world have been this dismal color since 1990. But hey, I thought it would be easy to keep clean, since it's basically the color of dirt to begin with. So I buy this GMC truck and I'm having trouble finding it in parking lots because every other truck is exactly the same color. And then I get this idea--let's do a little creative pinstriping. But what color pinstripes do we want? Of course! 1995 Honda Shadow Aubergine Metallique! And it came to pass. I now own (to my knowledge) the only pewter-colored pickup in town with purple pinstripes. And I'm just itchin' for an excuse to load my Honda into the truck to take it somewhere, so that people will go, "Yo, that dude's motorcycle matches his truck." It truly doesn't take a lot to amuse me. This penchant for purple has also crept into my life in other ways as well. I now own a couple of purple shirts, a really bitchin' purple and black necktie, a purple case for my iPod and a purple backpack. (Plus, all my Washington Huskies t-shirts are now de riguer). So will my next bike be purple as well? I hope not. My favorite color is still red. While my love affair with the color purple is still going on, I'm enough of a realist to know that it can't last forever. But for now, I'm enjoying it to the max. Julie...Everett, WA Recently we had the great pleasure of taking the one day ExtraterrestrialHighway Area 51 tour with Gunslingers Motorcycle Tours. The day was bright and sunny (it's Vegas afer all), the road straight and smooth. Our tourguide was very knowledgeable of the area's history and folklore, andhad many stories to tell about UFOs and aliens (are they ALL true?). Our ride was going great when we pulled over, in what seemed like the middle of nowhere because there wassomething on the side of the road that apparently needed investigating. Was it a long-awaiting alien perhaps?A little silver man? A giant probe needing a victim? NO, it turned out to be a cow carcass on the side of the road! Missing soft-tissue in several places (a couple I won't mention)--what could scream alien more than that?! Now I, the lone vegetarian of the bunch, didn't want anything to do with that pile of beef jerky laying on the side of the road and when my secret was out I quicky earned the name "t-bone", which stuck the duration of the day! But, since it may be the closest thing to an alien encounter I experience, I did allow a few pictures of myself next to it (my husband has threatented to use them for next years Holiday cards). Funny man! What a great way to spend the day! We are looking forward to taking one ofGunslingers' longer tours the next time we visit Vegas. Great ride! Burnsand Julie (T-Bone) Everett Wa. Return from Winning Story to the Contest Page.
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