345.366 - 2016 project and a motorcyclist without a motorcycle

every day in 2016, write a sentence or a paragraph or a poem that appreciates

a motorcyclist without a motorcycle

<grin>  yes, I appreciate me, but in this case it's a wry appreciation:  how does one be a motorcyclist without a motorcycle?  and no, I can't resolve that by going out and buying a motorcycle.  that would just be stupid.  in 2013, I proved to my own satisfaction that I am a danger to myself (and therefore, I presume, to others) when I ride a motorcycle.  I mean, for heavens's sake!  I was executing a slow U-turn, something I had done hundreds of times, maybe thousands of times, in forty years of riding a motorcycle.  there was no other traffic.  the street was smooth.  there was no excuse.  I lost my balance.  lost my balance!  I dropped the Harley on my left leg and shattered both bones in the lower leg.  sigh.  no, that's not explicit evidence for my conclusion, but my conclusion is not much of a jump either.  so, I stand by it.  but that leaves me with a conundrum:  how does one be a motorcyclist without a motorcycle?  you see, I wasn't a poet who rode a motorcycle, or a computer programmer who rode a motorcycle, I was a motorcyclist.  to understand this riddle, you have to let that in:  I didn't ride a motorcycle, I be'd motorcyclist.  who I was was motorcyclist.  and now I don't ride a motorcycle.  I drive a car, and drive it very well - my wife says so.  but I'm not a car driver, I'm a motorcyclist who drives a car.  I think being a motorcyclist is in some way like being a colonel or a general, once you've been one, you can't ever not be one.  you can be a general, retired, or a motorcyclist without a motorcycle.  it may even be aggravated by being a Harley rider without a Harley.  it's a strange state of being, a strange place to see the world from.  and maybe that's a gift for a poet.  I sometimes think every poet sees the world from his or her own peculiar perspective.  normal people are not poets, and vice-versa.  so living in this existential riddle - how does one be a motorcyclist without a motorcycle? - is good practice for being a poet, and keeping faith with you as I be a poet.