I feel that a era of my life is coming to a close. My girlfriend and I moved down to Fort Lauderdale from Pittsburgh and so began what I call my Fort Lauderdale Period. It was a classic example of a young couple starting out. During this time, my wife got her Bachelor's Degree and we got our first cat together. We got married, had jobs, and paid bills. We didn't have much money, lived in an apartment my wife would like to forget, and didn't have a car (we did everything by walking or riding our bikes, a lifestyle most people couldn't do in South Florida). When I started a job as a security officer, it became necessary to get a better mode of transportation. After we looked at our finances, we decided a motorcycle was an option. I rode it to work until we got a car, then a truck. The motorcycle was put aside. Over the years, we got it fixed up a couple of times and I rode it to get to and from work for awhile. Most of it's time was spent in storage, not being ridden.
Two weeks ago, we finally sold it (gave it away). So this post is in memory of a motorcycle that embodied what I thought of my personality from that era. Farewell, Derbi.
