Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Who doesn't Love Their Motorcycle and what's That Got to Do with Sex?
"It's a beautiful machine" were the last words the salesman said before I rode off on my new Harley Sportster a couple of years ago. The salesman was right. For me anyway, motorcycles, especially Harleys, are the most beautiful things ever made by man. I would rather sit on a bench and take in the art of the machine then look at the "Mona Lisa" at the Louvre in Paris.
I love my bike; it's one of the few material things that I have a strong attachment to. It's as though the bike is an extension of me.
My wife thinks so too, in a literal sense however. She says men love motorcycles because they are some sort of phallic symbol, representing a projection of power or something like that. She may be right for all I know. Maybe Carl Jung would have agreed with her on that one.
But a lot of women love bikes too, what about them? Hmm, penis envy? Sigmund Freud's analysis might be that all those women riding around, subconsciously wish they had a peter.
As for me, I think motorcycles symbolize freedom, it's all about the freedom, and the art of form and function. Not a penis on wheels.
Yep, my Sportster, it's a beautiful machine alright. I'll just keep on riding while the poets, philosophers, psychoanalysts, and my wife figure out why.
©2007 N.(Kano)Miles, Kano's Coffee House
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