Emma has her eye on me.
Granddaughter Emma had a watchful eye on me today. Not sure if it was my striking good looks, the bumblebee colored riding jacket, or interest in scrutinizing Vespa riding that had her attention. The steady, thoughtful gaze had me wondering what was so special.
First idea to come to mind was the difference between riding for pleasure and riding as general transportation. Both are possible with a scooter or a motorcycle and the difference is really the choices made by the rider. There are lots of pleasure riders in the world. Perhaps the majority of riders fall into this category.
Riders who use their machines as transportation are common but in my opinion a decidedly smaller group. I see few motorcycles in the grocery store parking lot or at the dry cleaners. And I have to admit I don’t understand why. A ride across town to pick up a loaf of bread at the bakery is just as satisfying as a ride across the valley to breakfast. I’ve found extensive pleasure and solace riding to work or using the Vespa for errands and chores.
One stop allowed me to surprise Kim by picking up some PRE de PROVENCE Argan Body Butter — one of the preferred massage creams in our house. It’s just the sort of thoughtful gesture riders make for their significant others. The common misconception is that we are singularly and selfishly obsessed with riding at the exclusion of all other concerns and needs.
That’s a riding myth.
The surprise was on me when I got home — Kim already had a supply of Argan Body Butter. Riders are likely familiar with the welcome thrill of hearing they’ll have to mount up and head out into the world again to properly complete a task.
Back at Bella di Vita in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania I corrected the situation and acquired another spousal favorite.
The correct choice in this case was a jar of Cote Bastide Fleurs D’Oranger Body Cream — an alternative and slightly more lavish choice. But since it easily fits in the topcase of the scooter I figured what the heck. Just another pleasant experience of riding.
Thinking back to my granddaughter Emma this is probably exactly the kind of thing she was thinking about when she was carefully scrutinizing Vespa riding.