I recently met two men, dare I call them men, who were keen on getting motorcycles until they were vetoed by their wives. The first said his wife, he's supposed highschool sweetheart, outright said she'd divorce him if he ever got one. The second said in a matter of fact way that his wife refused so he couldn't do it.
It's only a sample size of two but it's made me think of motorcycles as an expression of freedom: a kind of freedom that is forfeited the moment you put a ring on it. Freedom to have fun, to take risks and to not have to answer to anyone about them. I'm not prepared to give that up for anything else.
