I write for me.
I have said that several times in my blog. Even though it is not true.
If I wrote only for myself, there would be no Same Life -- New Location.
I obviously write because I enjoy communicating with people. Even when I do not know who they are.
Now and then, the veil of internet anonymity drops. Writer and reader get to know one another better.
A reader sent along this photograph as a witty nudge on motorcycles. With the suggestion that she thought I was already part of Malcolm Forbes's motorcycle gang: Capitalist Tools.
Clever. It was certainly better than a photograph of what another reader's nickname for motorcycles: organ donor machines.
I have started walking on my injured ankle. For this first time since March, I have a shoe on my right foot.
That can mean only one thing.
It is time to start shopping for that shiny new motorcycle. Maybe not a Norton 961 café racer. But something similar.
A bit less expensive. But just as shiny. Fast.
And every bit age-inappropriate.
