My motorcycle is set up perfectly. It’s comfortable, it’s fast, and fits like an old pair of jeans. In short, it’s just right. After a year of tweaking the essences of the cycle, it now works for me. Whenever I get my motorcycle to be just right, I then become obsessed with finding another bike to fix up. It’s a Condition I call “Not Happy with My Perfect Bike Disorder”. In many ways my disease constitutes a problem. I can only afford one bike, so to get another bike will mean losing the one that I worked so hard to make perfect. Also the wife totally hates it when I come home with a different bike which means I’m sleeping on the couch for a month. I am content with my crappy car and it can barely be put into reverse. The car is a pure beater but I make it work. My dog has diabetes and she likes to growl at herself in the mirror but I don’t want to trade her in. Why can’t I be happy with a motorcycle with no flaws that I truly love to ride? I tell you it’s a serious condition that I blame on my Attention Deficit Disorder and a pure passion to ride. I guess there are worst conditions to have. I could be addicted to crack or have a bad temper or like to burn ants with a magnifying glass. Those are true problems. My issue is less of a travesty and one I can live with. It’s not like I have any money to burn on another bike anyway but one never knows what two wheeled opportunity is awaiting me around that next high speed corner.