I made good on my intention of getting rid of my motorcycle. Last week a seventy-one-year-old man with 45 years of riding experience drove off on it. A small lump formed in my throat as I watched him ride away. Otherwise, it felt good. I couldn’t have asked for more. The buyer wasn’t likely to kill himself. He was mechanical so I knew he could take care of the Silver Spaceship. Also, his age reminded me that getting back in the saddle again was not outside the realm of possibility.
I used the Bay Area’s home-grown Craigslist to advertise the bike. They now charge five dollars to list vehicles. I balked at the notion at first. I have always associated Craigslist with free advertising. When a place popped up for me to enter a credit card number I wondered if it was legit. I looked this new protocol up online and confirmed they’ve been charging the fee for vehicles for about four years. It makes sense. Five bucks may be enough to keep some scam-operators from operating and it’s not too much to ask for selling something worth hundreds of dollars.
My reluctance was short-lived for another reason. While I would have difficulty answering Marie Kondo’s question Does it spark joy while gazing upon one of my shirts, if I think about Craigslist or, another favorite, Wikipedia, I can answer a definitive yes! Craigslist has been a source of joy since my earliest days of internetting.
I listed my 1991 Honda for $1700. That price is on the low end for these motos. The ST1100 is one of the best old bikes out there. It’s powerful, reliable, and a smooth, comfortable ride on the highway. There were cracks, breaks and holes in some of the panels that cover almost the entire bike but that’s to be expected for a 33-year-old motorcycle. The sun breaks down plastic. Mechanically it was near flawless.
As soon as I posted on Craigslist immediately got a slew of low ball offers with sloppy grammar and syntax that made me feel their desire for a quick deal all the more poignantly.
“Hi, Let me know if you consider taking $900 for it, this Sat.”
“Nice bike that I will love to give a home but I am quite strapped and only have 1100.00 to work with at the moment.”
And the best of the worst:
“I have a 2002 Toyota Sequoia that needs a small amount of mechanical work with air bushings and things it’s a great running condition the motor and tranny or a flawless it’s got some higher mileage on it but I’ll be willing to trade straight across need a bike to ride out to LA tonight would trade my SUV and probably most of the mechanic tools inside of it to get the motorcycle so I can head out to go to my girlfriend I was waiting for me program in LA county you can call me at 831-xxx-xxxx ASAP tonight would be better thank you”
After a bunch of these I was getting a little depressed. The bike had treated me so well in the more than eight years since I bought it from its original owner. Did it really have no more value than this? Should I drop the asking price to $1500? I was including a leather jacket, riding jeans with armor knees, the shop and owners manual, a tank bag and two helmets—all old but serviceable.
I had already dismissed the idea of parting it out. I could get more money that way but it would be a lot more work taking it apart. Also, this felt akin to sending R2D2 to the junkyard. You don’t do that to an old friend that has years of life left in it.
I thought on this for a few days and finally decided to leave the price. If nobody bought my moto then I’d just keep it. I didn’t have to take it to the city anymore and lane split across the bay bridge or allow the 20-year-old in me to accelerate to sixty in four seconds. I know how to ride safe. It could just be my cruising bike for April Sundays and midnight August nights, for country rides and smooth open highways and perhaps, for the rare woman who will swing her leg over and lean back onto the rest.
It felt karmic—like I had just needed to get my head in the right place—when a few hours later I got an email from Lou who wrote a nice note that included these words: “Have cash, don’t want to insult you with ridiculous offers.”
I was pleased that someone else recognized the value.
I don’t want to co-opt anyone’s ancient belief system but I do feel that inanimate objects live and have a spirit. It feels authentic to give value to things, even things that are seen as trash. All properties have usefulness. It’s easy to see value in an old motorcycle that mechanically works well, but it’s there too in a sun-denuded water bottle matted with grass clippings and dirt on the side of the road.
I wonder what kind of world it would be if human’s primary goal was to seek value in things and help guide them to a place where that value can be realized? What if we could bring that same feeling of value to our human relationships? What kind of world would we live in then?
I hope that Craigslist person got down to L.A. to see their girlfriend and to begin their program—if that’s what they were trying to say. I hope they didn’t have to give up their tools to get there. The value of things increases exponentially with access to tools. Materials and their possibilities take on a whole new meaning.
Spotty West Goes East 