Inches matter

While I was waiting to check into the hotel late this afternoon, another guest last in line said, “Nice Yamaha. What size is it?”

He looked pleased with himself that he had made the right guess when, without the blink of an eye, I said, “It’s a 1340,” as I smiled.

“That’ll get you there in a hurry,” he replied.

“Yes, it will,” I responded and let it go at that, since obviously he was trying to make conversation.

To be precise, it’s a Harley-Davidson, its just under 82 cubic inches, and whether I get anywhere in a hurry or not has never been much of a concern of mine.

But what the hell, he was wearing a suit and tie and I felt bad for him all dolled up like that on a hot day, while this very morning I rode the Manitoulin, spent time at an ice cream parlor after waiting for a swing bridge, took a leisurely hour and 45 minute ride on a ferry, and meandered south to my destination, enjoying every last living minute of it all.

Life is sweet.

Leave a Reply