Get your motor running. Head out on U.S. 1. Revving up the throttle...so you can't sleep a wink. Like a true-natured nuisance, we were born, born to throttle all night, we can make the noise so high, you just wanna die.
So the lyrics aren't quite as good as Steppenwolf's "Born to Be Wild," but living on U.S. 1 or Dixie Freeway is no picnic. Certainly not during Biketoberfest. I bought the Long-vacant little brown house nobody else seemed to want on North Dixie Freeway (U.S. 1) last spring because it's in a commercial zone (B3) and a great location for my work, even if the yard is too small and the house is really old.
The big problem is the noise. Yes, I knew when I bought it, it was smack dead on the main north-south artery, that it was tiny and very limited in use. But as they say in the business world, "location, location, location."
The main bedroom is in the front and the smaller bedroom is in the rear. Take your choice: Vehicular traffic up front or the train whistle in the back. And yes, the floors shake with both.
It's bad enough that the bikes go back and forth through the night, downing out not only the soothing "tick-tock" of my grandmother clock, but the chimes as well. Having the Marathon gas station next door and Advance Discount Autoparts store across the street makes the situation even tougher. Some bikers feel compelled to turn the throttle while idled and as if they are expressing their manhood or something.
There's absolutely nothing comparable to a motorcycle being revved up, especially a Harley-Davidson. Don't get me wrong: I love motorcycles. My father has a motorcycle. So do two of my brothers.
I love the special events, especially Bike Week, the early spring rally that generates 500,000 bikers. In fact, when I was a reporter at the Daytona Beach News-Journal for eight years, virtually every time out I was involved in some kind of Bike Week assignment. And when I couldn't cover something live like cole-slaw wrestling or the Main Street atmosphere because I had to give others a chance, I'd write enterprise stories like the debate over the helmet law. When I was editor of the then-daily New Smyrna Beach Observer, I did the same kinds of stories.
I have been a resident of Volusia County since 1995 and as a member of the media have covered every special event: Bike Week, Biketoberfest, Spring Break, Black College Reunion, Daytona 500 and Speed Weeks, Turkey Rod Run, etc.
But I realize now that living in a quiet subdivision in Port Orange had its benefits -- mainly sleep and virtually little traffic.
So to the bikers who made my weekend a sleepless one, I forgive you. I only ask that when you return for Bike Week, that you show some respect to those who are trying to sleep.