I'm thankful that so many people I've talked to (in cyberspace and in person) are concerned about our motorcycle safety. The insurance company isn't overly worried, apparently. They gave my husband a very cheap rate, taking into account his age, marriage status, and driving record. They weren't concerned about his one motorcycle accident because it was so very long ago. I wasn't around then. Well, I was around but not around him. I was probably no older than eight. (Yes we are that far apart in age.)
The insurance company was concerned that we understood that we aren't covered by damage occurring in nuclear blasts and the like. As if the first thing we'll think of after we're nuked would be, "Quick honey, call Geico. The paint on the motorcycle has burnt off."
I went on my first ride last weekend. Holy cow it was fun! I stupidly forgot to take pictures. If it isn't raining this weekend, I'll bring out the camera and we'll do a photo shoot. According to my husband, I looked sexy, but I sure felt like a space-man in my helmet. Maybe he was just being kind. Either that or he has a thing for aliens. Actually he does. Hmm.....
OK, whatever else I had to say has fallen out of my brain. That's what comes of interruptions. It was imperative that I suddenly build a two inch tall cardboard chair. I'm sure you understand.