Easy Rider?

   One day, my dad decided he wanted to buy a motorcycle.  We drove across town to a Honda dealership almost in Edmond, at least 15 miles from our house.  We went in and started looking around.  I figured, since it was around 4:00 in the afternoon, we'd just browse around and check prices.  I certainly didn't know how to ride a motorcycle, and I was pretty sure my dad wasn't going to ride one in the afternoon traffic, due to start at any time.
   Finally, he found one he like, discussed the price (my dad is a genius when it comes to negotiating prices), and finally paid what he decided was fair enough.
   Then came something completely unexpected. 
   He looked from me to the dealer and said, nodding his head in my direction, "You'll teach him how to ride it?"
   WHAT????  The thought screamed in my head.
   "Uh, Dad?"  I said.  "You ARE going to ride it home, right?  Or we're going to get a trailer or something.  Right?"
   "Heck, I don't know how to ride a motorcycle," he said.  "You're going to learn, ride it home, then teach me."
   "I don't even have a helmet," I protested.
   "There's one in the truck," he said.  "It's been in the lost and found at school for years."
   When we got to the truck, he handed me a green helmet with a small crack on the outside.  Inside, there was a dark stain - I hoped it was sweat.
   I got a quick lesson on a little-used access road next to the highway.  Oh yeah, I forgot to mention - the motorcycle place was next to the Broadway Extension, which connects downtown Oklahoma City with Edmond, and was notorious for afternoon traffic jams.
   I picked up the basics of motorcycle riding pretty quickly.  I was still hoping we would load it up in the pickup and drive it home, because the highway was starting to get busier and busier.
   When I practiced for about 10 minutes, my dad said, "What do you think?"
   "Not too bad, Dad.  I could probably teach you how to ride pretty quickly."
   "See you at home, then," he said, and took off.

   Let me tell you this - my baptism into the realm of motorcycle riding was a harrowing one.  I couldn't believe how many people either couldn't see me, or ignored me as they changed lanes (sometimes without signaling), or turned right in front of me, or nearly ran over me from behind when they tried to beat the light.  My legs were shaking when I got home, and I was nearly numb from the adrenaline that had been coursing through my body.
   Even though that was many years ago, I will always remember that day.  It made me a better driver.  Since then, I have paid more attention to the traffic around me, especially to motorcyclists, who are relatively unprotected.