Not about Morality
Some time ago I had a beautiful german vintage bike, a Horex Regina II, 400cc, model of 1953.
When I got it, it was a piece of junk and I did a lot of work on it, all of it, basically, except for the motor and electrics, because I 'm just no good with that stuff. But I did all the restoring myself. It was a good machine and I loved it a lot, but then, one day I came up with this silly notion, that once I started becoming a woman, I would no longer be able to ride it. 'Cause, you know, I thought it 'd be such a manly thing to do to ride a bike like that. Talk about stereotype poisonning, eh?
Anyway, one day I was talking with a friend about it, a very good friend, perhaps one of the best I ever had and I told him I didn't want it anymore and if he liked it so much, he could have it. Me and my big mouth- he did want to have it. Ooops. Now I had said it and there was no way I could take my word back. That wouldn't be fitting to no man or woman. Not to me, anyway.
So I gave it away to my friend.
I regretted it of course... in a way. When the weather gets hotter and sunnier, in those beautiful summer afternoons we have here in Greece, I so want to take my Molly (cheesy, I know) and ride it to the sunset (even cheesier, I know). But my friend has moved to England and we only ever talk on the phone. I haven't seen him in person for more than four years and we 've only talked four or five times anyway. I just can't bring myself to ask him about it, I mean, you know. I think he probably sold it, because he was short on money and he would have needed some for the trip to England and for expenses there... well, it's no bussiness of mine what he 'd do with it once it was his... I gave it to him, it's his, end of convo.
And then, I don't regret it altogether. I mean, I regret not having the bike anymore, but I don't regret having given it to him. Well, I do regret openning my big mouth and talking on auto-pilot, and then, the reasons I decided I couldn't have it anymore... tsk tsk tsk... But, then again, I did earn something out of it.
No, I don't mean "a friend". That guy was my friend before I gave him the bike and that was why I gave it to him in the first place. I really didn't want to just sell it to anyone, because, well, because I loved it, and it's value had nothing to do with money, to me. If I didn't have it, I 'd rather a friend would. And, in any case, no, I don't think giving stuff to people makes you friends with them. All the friends I had, I considered my friends because I knew I could trust them and count on them to not let me down in a time of need, and because we 'd had great times together and I felt at home with them. A mutual exchange of resources comes with friendship, but it can't precede it. And whenever it tries, it just prevents it.
What I gained, was a little bit more of that kind of the strength of personality I so value. I guess I value it above all else, because it's something that's so hard to come by, even if its' source is none other than myself. I feel strong and secure if I know, because there's a precedent, that I can do the right thing when I need to.
(...)
(...) (...)
(...) (...) (...)
And then I kept going on and on about the morale of the story and morality and good and evil, right and wrong and Arete and Kakkea and all sorts of long-winded ranty bullshit that almost bored my own self to sleep.
Seriously, sometimes I want to say something and I like reading my own words so much... it just draaaaags and diiiiiieeees... without ever being said.
Ah, I have to work my writing out a little bit, really. It's getting obese.
When I got it, it was a piece of junk and I did a lot of work on it, all of it, basically, except for the motor and electrics, because I 'm just no good with that stuff. But I did all the restoring myself. It was a good machine and I loved it a lot, but then, one day I came up with this silly notion, that once I started becoming a woman, I would no longer be able to ride it. 'Cause, you know, I thought it 'd be such a manly thing to do to ride a bike like that. Talk about stereotype poisonning, eh?
Anyway, one day I was talking with a friend about it, a very good friend, perhaps one of the best I ever had and I told him I didn't want it anymore and if he liked it so much, he could have it. Me and my big mouth- he did want to have it. Ooops. Now I had said it and there was no way I could take my word back. That wouldn't be fitting to no man or woman. Not to me, anyway.
So I gave it away to my friend.
I regretted it of course... in a way. When the weather gets hotter and sunnier, in those beautiful summer afternoons we have here in Greece, I so want to take my Molly (cheesy, I know) and ride it to the sunset (even cheesier, I know). But my friend has moved to England and we only ever talk on the phone. I haven't seen him in person for more than four years and we 've only talked four or five times anyway. I just can't bring myself to ask him about it, I mean, you know. I think he probably sold it, because he was short on money and he would have needed some for the trip to England and for expenses there... well, it's no bussiness of mine what he 'd do with it once it was his... I gave it to him, it's his, end of convo.
And then, I don't regret it altogether. I mean, I regret not having the bike anymore, but I don't regret having given it to him. Well, I do regret openning my big mouth and talking on auto-pilot, and then, the reasons I decided I couldn't have it anymore... tsk tsk tsk... But, then again, I did earn something out of it.
No, I don't mean "a friend". That guy was my friend before I gave him the bike and that was why I gave it to him in the first place. I really didn't want to just sell it to anyone, because, well, because I loved it, and it's value had nothing to do with money, to me. If I didn't have it, I 'd rather a friend would. And, in any case, no, I don't think giving stuff to people makes you friends with them. All the friends I had, I considered my friends because I knew I could trust them and count on them to not let me down in a time of need, and because we 'd had great times together and I felt at home with them. A mutual exchange of resources comes with friendship, but it can't precede it. And whenever it tries, it just prevents it.
What I gained, was a little bit more of that kind of the strength of personality I so value. I guess I value it above all else, because it's something that's so hard to come by, even if its' source is none other than myself. I feel strong and secure if I know, because there's a precedent, that I can do the right thing when I need to.
(...)
(...) (...)
(...) (...) (...)
And then I kept going on and on about the morale of the story and morality and good and evil, right and wrong and Arete and Kakkea and all sorts of long-winded ranty bullshit that almost bored my own self to sleep.
Seriously, sometimes I want to say something and I like reading my own words so much... it just draaaaags and diiiiiieeees... without ever being said.
Ah, I have to work my writing out a little bit, really. It's getting obese.
posted by Stassa at 11/24/2004 09:27:00 PM
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