I have met Robert red motorcycle guy, no gloves, silver helmet; I have met motorcycle guy at the Chevron; purple motorcyle French father at the art store; and guy in the parking lot who told us about motorcycles racing up hills.

I have never ridden a motorcycle. Nor do I want to.

My 2 ½-year old son can hear a motorcycle from the other side of the freeway and he has a keen sense for when an empty motorcycle will have “a guy on it and put helmet on, then do one kick.”

My son’s FBI scanning ability allows him to identify helmet color, headlights, body color, and gender in a matter of seconds. My favorite ID is, “Woman, woman on that one,” or “Guy and a woman.”

At the zoo, while his best friend yells, “Giraffe! Giraffe!” my son eyes the Suzuki in the parking lot. “Red motorcycle! Silver helmet on it!”

I’ve decided to make the most of my son’s obsession, and we’ve taken to interviewing motorcycle guys at gas stations and parking lots. I ask, “When did you get your first motorcycle?” For most, it was age 15, but they wanted one since they were 4.

My friends tell me to worry, but why not fulfill my son’s need to follow motorcycles and the guys on them? To him, motorcycles are magical, intimate, distinct. He can see the face of the rider rather than the faceless tinted windows of a car.

My husband I joke that we should follow a Harley pack for our next road trip. My son’s concentration to study motorcycles, to know them, to spot them is fierce. His body jolts as he announces his discovery. “Motorcycle! Red! Yellow helmet! Not mitts! Woman on it!”

And though I don’t want him to ride one, I want him to follow them because for now, they are his passion.

Postscript: Now he’s moved onto an affinity for musicals, such as “Singin’ in the Rain” and “Sound of Music.” One minute motorcycles, the next dancing with umbrellas and raindrops on roses.

By Ariana Amini

Labels: Ariana Amini, Chevron, FBI, Harley, helmet, motorcycle, zoo

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