The Dirtbike Kid

I can only imagine that we all have our fetishes. I assume that we each have at least one thing that - should we see one - sets the the mind aflame. A jet as it streaks across the sky. A tree in spring bloom. Maybe it's an Ipad --- there is no shortage of devotees to this new fangled device. Remember Wayne Campbell's obsession with the Fender Stratocaster? That's what I'm talking about.

It just so happens that I feel this way about a dirtbike. I see a dirtbike, and I immediately start wondering what I could do whilst aboard it. Picture it: me flying over a house (or crashing through it's roof), soaring over a ravine (or plummeting into it) , or leaping a line of small children (or taking them out like bowling pins). Jumping over things has long been a fascination of mine and being as gravity is quite fond of me, I tend to stay close to earth.* I also have a rather significant fear of heights - but this cannot stop me from fantasizing. What's more, the utility of a dirtbike is not limited to jumps: I could herd sheep in the Australian outback or pop dangerous and unnecessary wheelies at any and all occasions. Oh, the possibilities.



I've never stole anything in my life. Nothing large, that is. Well, I've never been convicted at least. I best stop talking. Regardless, the site of a parked dirtbike raises in me the most craven of thieves. The extreme motorsports Hyde to my traditionalist Jekyll. I am told that a dirtbike isn't street legal. Not only does this seem to be the most flimsy of obstacles, but I would also counter that I saw one on the highway this very day. Illegal is only illegal if you are caught. And frankly, when you're on a dirtbike, who's going to catch you?

I know what you're thinking: am I going to buy a dirtbike? Would I ever buy a dirtbike? Of course not. Do you see that thing? It's lightweight, overpowered, and most likely capable of obscene acceleration. Who knows if it would hold me and who knows if I could go 30 seconds without falling over or running into a tree. Or, you know, crashing through a suburban family's roof.

* My senior year of high school I tried to jump onto a concrete pylon on campus. I failed and fell backward, flat onto my back. It was awesomely terrible and terribly awesome. And very, very funny. And like most falls in my life, I'm probably lucky I didn't die. Or go to the hospital at least.