BUCKING THE SYSTEM: BIKER GUY DREAMS CLASH WITH SEDAN CHICK REALITY

* If you hear tell of me greatly increasing life insurance-coverage on my husband, you'll know why.

My husband wants a motorcycle. So do about three of his best friends.

I don't think their desire is based in any great love of motorcycles or even in that they love to ride them. As far as I know, they haven't spent much time on them.

No, their desire is testosterone-driven, based largely in the fact that one of our single friends owns one. I blame Dwayne the Unmarried because nobody mentioned wanting to own a motorcycle until after the guys recently spent a weekend visiting our friend and his bike.

Of course, by now I'm probably being cursed in one or two male languages. The first grunt, translated, means "I can't believe she's putting our business out there like that." It was likely followed by a rapid succession of grunts and whines that said "Buck needs to get his wife in check. She can't just write about us like that."

And underscoring that dialect is probably a high, whistling note that sounds curiously like my sons after I've denied them a favorite treat. "I've aaaaalways wanted a motorcycle."

Yeah, right.

What makes men want such hopelessly impractical modes of transportation? Even if Patrick were able to learn to finance and ride a motorcycle, where would he put the car seats? What about the spare diapers, wipes, and outfits that must constantly be kept on hand for PJ?

And God knows we couldn't survive even the shortest road trip without a healthy stash of candy, crackers and other foodstuffs strategically placed around my mid-sized sedan. Patrick probably hasn't even realized I've also got a stash in his mostly-uncomfortable-rather-than-impractical Tracker.

Of course, we haven't really had a conversation about my husband's desire. Rather, he's been dropping not-so-subtle hints as we've passed motorcycles of late. And then there are the total of four motorized toy motorcycles that arrived at my house Tuesday, compliments of my husband and one of his friends for their four sons.

I guess they figured if they couldn't be happy, at least the boys could.

Although I list the impracticality of a family man owning a motorcycle, the real reason I'm against it involves myself. I can drive my husband's five-speed with no trouble, but I can guarantee you I'm not getting my ample derriere on anything with two wheels, except for maybe a stationary bike in the comforts of my home.

Neither do I plan to be a biker chick, holding on to her man as we ride into the sunset. It's not my style, especially when there's a lot fewer climate control and other comfort options.

Most importantly, women of my complexion don't invest our time and money in beauty salons twice monthly so we can put on a helmet and mess our hair. Sorry, but it's not happening.

I'm a little upset with Dwayne the Unmarried for planting such seeds in our husbands' minds. He doesn't have to worry about things like life insurance beneficiaries, car emergencies and car seats, and can enjoy life with novelty vehicle options.

Unfortunately for his married friends, those items are major inconveniences that just can't be overlooked. My suggestion is that they continue to invest in Power Wheels. They're a lot cheaper and they've got a better chance of being ridden rather than returned.

Tamara Zellars Buck is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.