Just finished watching the latest episode of Army Wives, one of the few TV shows I watch regularly. In this episode, one of the “wives,” a nurse at the post hospital, receives an unexpected gift from a patient-his beloved motorcycle. As a double amputee, he figures he won’t be riding anytime soon, and Denise has shared joyful memories of her youthful riding experiences with him.
Denise’s character is quite conventional – her husband is a bit of a brute, and her decision to return to work as a nurse caused huge upheaval in their relationship. She’s reluctant to ride the motorcycle, and leaves it sitting in the hospital parking garage where she stops to admire it daily. One day, a handsome young doctor rides in on his own bike, and they strike up a conversation. She admits the bike is “hers,” even though she hasn’t ridden it yet.
“I don’t even have a license!” she says.
“License!” he scoffs. “Who needs a license? You’ve got a crazy bone somewhere in you, don’t you?”
“Oh no,” she demurs, “I don’t think I do.”
“Sure you do,” he says with a wicked grin. “Everybody does.”
Hmm, I caught myself thinking.
Where the hell has my crazy bone gone to?
Truly, I haven’t done a crazy thing in God only knows when. The last remotely crazy thing I did…see, I can’t remember one. I haven’t even gone out speeding driving in my car with the windows down and the radio blasting since way last summer. I’ve been limiting myself to one glass of wine a day, going to bed at 11:30 every night – what could be less crazy than the life I’ve been living?
There’s been a restless yearning in my heart lately, a “need for speed” – not just physical speed, but a desire to feel a heart racing excitement, an adrenaline rush, a fist-pumping acclamation. The emotional equivalent of that wind in your face feeling you might get doing 80 mph on a Harley.
Don’t you think we should indulge our crazy bones once in a while? Cut loose from that oh-so-responsible person who always does the right thing, shows up for work on time, follows all the rules, tries to be nice and helpful and good?
Today, I met with my aunt and uncle, both in their 80’s. He’s suffering from Alzheimer’s, she’s a cancer survivor who’s battling crippling arthritis. They continue to live independently, in the home they purchased back in 1954. A few weeks ago, a man followed them home from the bank and robbed her as she was unlocking the back door to the home that has been their sanctuary for the past 54 years. Now, she’s afraid to leave the house. He has no recollection of what happened, no matter how many times she relives the story.
Talk about living on the crazy side.
Of course, it’s not that kind of crazy I’m looking for.
What I am looking for is an opportunity to enjoy life, to indulge my “crazy bone” in case fate intervenes and casts a shadow of true insanity upon my existence.
Anybody know where I can get a good deal on a Harley?