Here's my favorite Irish motorcycle rider, Joe Monahan. He's 88 and still riding. He's been learning computers too! Go for it JOE! Now if you want to hear good biking stories, he has the best. Hopefully he'll share with us later, so be sure and check back often.
I call this one:
I have always loved motorcycles. I never dreamt my love affair with them would lead to my seeing someone�s lifelong dream fulfilled. One of my friends who works where I do, is an avid motorcyclist who owns a few of his own. Recently, there were two Japanese students, Junichi and Masaharo (Masa), taking a course here. When my friend and I connected with the two students, they had only one weekend left in Oklahoma City before their return to Japan. One student, Junichi, shared this hobby. He and my friend met and from that moment, because of the love of motorcycles, a permanent connection was made. Junichi had a dream. His dream was to ride a Harley-Davidson motorcycle. There is only one Harley dealer in Japan, where they cost about $70,000. There are no "test rides," and only the very rich own them. It would be like me, a Graphic Artist, wishing to drive a Rolls Royce.
My friend owns a Harley that he alone had ever ridden. Wanting to fulfill a dream for someone, he allowed Junichi and Massa to come to his house and see the bike. My friend let him ride the bike, making sure he had an international license and was a safe rider. A time to ride was set up. I�d fix a simple dinner after the ride for all of us. Massa wanted to go shopping with his host family and did not wish to ride, but would come for dinner.
The following day the three of us took a trip to Guthrie, Oklahoma. It was Sand Plum Festival and we had not been aware of it. Upon arrival, Junichi experienced an Old West Oklahoma gunfight in the street. He stood frozen in place till we told him it was an act. In Japan one can skeet shoot, but there are no handguns because of their gun laws there.
At dinner that night, the two students experienced their first Bagels. We watched them put fruit on their first bagel, then we showed them how to make a sandwich with lots of meat and cheese, two things that are very expensive in Japan. They were so kind and so interesting to listen to as they discussed their families, jobs, customs, and the economy. They brought traditional gifts of origami to thank my friend for the ride and me for the dinner. The next day they were to come out and bring their video camera to get pictures of Junichi riding the Harley down the street, proof to take home. I�ll never forget watching him pull the bike fork-lock off his belt, put on his leather Harley-helmet, take the keys in hand and pose like John Travolta in �Saturday Night Fever� with one hand raised over his head as he readied to ride. I watched one man�s dream come true.
We parted and went our separate ways. I remember their wonder at a man-made lake (Lake Overholser in OKC), their laughter at a taco they tasted (�tako� means Octopus in Japanese), and their awe for the fact that a gunfight could be held in the street. They thrilled at getting to ride in a vehicle going 70 mph (Japan�s speed limit is 35 mph). I gave each a rose rock from my farm, a part of Oklahoma to take home, hoping that sharing the cross-pollination of interests and ideas had been as wonderful for them as it had been for me.
My friend and thought of those two often, wondering of the stories they�d tell upon their return. Two months went by and we received letters with pictures of their families, pets, homes, and city sights. We got e-mail addresses, and postal addresses. A friendship had taken root from those seeds of interests; one that originated from a single passion for machines. One never knows what another person�s dream is, or whether they may fulfill it. I got to experience the chance of a lifetime, to watch someone�s dream come true, and, in return, I felt honored to have made friends across a continent.
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