Facebook

I just love it! I've gotten back into contact with so many people from childhood through high school. I'm even getting in touch with people I really didn't know that well back then. I was an unbelieveably  shy kid/teen, so it's fun communicating with these folks now. 
About a week ago, I had a friends request from someone who had been a very good friend in HS. She also lived at the other end of the road we moved to when I was 16, so we spent a lot of time together. Once out of HS, she got married and I went to school in Ky. We just lost touch, so it was great hearing from her again. All this reminded me of a story.....


Several of the boys in my neighborhood had motorcycles back then. Of course, I thought that was cool and was forever getting rides. One day, the friend I spoke of above, Cyndi and her then boyfriend (now hubby), Frank, had walked up to my house. Hobbled may be a better word for it as Frank had an injured leg and a cast up past his knee. My parents house has a patio-type front porch, maybe a foot off the ground, and we all sat on the edge of it. Frank had his injured leg stretched straight out in front of him, between 2 of the azealeas my step-mom had planted that summer and was so proud of. As happened a lot, a few of the neighborhood kids gathered in the front yard. One of those kids was a boy named Keith, who had ridden his older brother Phil's motorcycle to my house. Phil was at work and I'm still not sure if he knew Keith was riding his bike. He pulled up and parked in the front yard. We were all talking and I had gotten up to admire the bike up close. I started asking Keith to let me drive it, just around the house once. He was not very agreeable, but I kept at him. He finally asked if I had ever driven one before (I had not) so I told him, yes I had, many times. He finally, reluctantly handed me the keys. The bike was parked to the left and side of the patio, parallel to it. I hopped on, pushed in the clutch and cranked it up. I was so excited. I remember looking at Cyndi and grinning as I popped that clutch out and.....immediately lost control of the bike. I went careening towards Frank's outstretched leg. Poor guy had to dive out of my way and I remember being impressed that anyone could move that fast with a cast on. I fishtailed all across the azealeas, destroying every single one of them in the process, then flipped off of and wrecked the bike when I hit the driveway. Thank goodness I missed all the cars. Everybody was running around and yelling, except Frank, who didn't look very amused. Keith was yelling that Phil was gonna kill him, then come after me, and making everyone swear they wouldn't tell Phil about this, my step-mom had run outside and was yelling about the azealeas, Cyndi was laughing her head off and I was inspecting myself for any exposed bone fractures, which I was sure I had several of. Keith and I worked for over an hour picking azealea material out of and off of the bike, after which we washed and shined it back up. Keith was sweating bullets the whole time. We had to have it back in the same condition it was in when he took it, and it had to be back in it's proper storage spot before Phil got home from work. 
It's truly a wonder I survived into my 20s..... And I bet Phil still hasn't been told by anyone about this!