Epiphany: A Divine Manifestation

Back in May I decided my life needed a little more spice to it. I began looking into buying a motorcycle. My dad called it "the stupidest idea he'd ever heard". Thats when I knew I had to do it. I bought myself a nice little gem of a starter bike to learn the ropes on, in the hopes of buying a sweet Harley sometime soon. For several months she went unnamed. I tried to force the name by looking up ideaa on the internet. Wisely, I consulted my motorcycle guru, Miss Jordan Rasband & took her advice. "Don't force it. It will come, just give it time." This is that story...

There are certain moments in history that you never forget where you were when you heard the news. I remember being at South Hill Middle School, roaming around the halls when I heard the news about 9/11. I remember reffing Jr. Jazz when the Space Shuttle Columbia crashed over Texas. I remember sitting in a hotel room in Mexico when the US invaded Iraq. I remember being in my basement when John Stockton hit "the shot" against Houston in '96. Recently, I remember being in Target when I heard the news that the late-great-King of Pop, Michael Jackson had died. I've been a fan of Michael Jackson ever since I first heard him. It was Smooth Criminal in my friend, Ted Ethington's basement in elementary school. Although I was a fan, it was casual at best. I had several of his CD's and a playlist on my iPod, but nothing too major. My King of Pop 'fanhood', if you will, was taken up a notch one special night after watching his live DANGEROUS concert in Bucharest (pure awesomeness & the work of a true genius). After leaving the company of Chelsee, I was riding around my nameless bike singing Michael Jackson tunes at the top of my lungs. (The sign of a true fan) Luckily I was wearing my helmet so no one was forced to run me off the road to save the world from my tone-deaf vocals. It was in the midst of singing one of my all-time favorites, that it hit me...

My motorcycle was Diana. Just as in the song, "Dirty Diana", I had told myself she wouldn't seduce me, but she did. It was as if she had spoken to me and whispered "I have the stuff that you want, I am the thing that you need." She was my "night lovin' thing" that "thing I could taunt." So I named my motorcycle Dirty Diana. It suits her well. We both know it wont last forever. She fulfills my needs and I rev her engine. She is my Dirty Diana. It may just be a summer fling until I move on to something better, but you never forget your first.

For your viewing pleasure...and this is required.