My older brother died in a motorcycle crash, I slid off a curve on a mountain road at thirty miles and hour, and I’ve seen my brothers go down on the road, but I still throw my leg over my motorcycle every day and ride because it’s what I do; it’s part of who I am. I have no desire to go bungee jumping or to sky dive; that not what I’m into: I ride motorcycles. I refuse to live the so-called safe life, because that kind of life sounds boring. I believe in living life to its fullest and enjoying every minute I have here on Earth. Even if I do go out riding a motorcycle, at least it will be while I was doing something I enjoy. I plan to die when I’m ninety-three, sitting on my front porch after I just took my last ride on my Harley. Until then, I’ll keep hanging with my bros and keep my face in the wind.