There was an old T.V. show called "Then Came Bronson" that depicted a disillusioned guy riding around the country on a Harley Sportster and never staying very long in one place. That was me and my life style. I would stay in a town until I didn't want to be there any longer and then get on my Harley and ride on.When I left Van Horne, I rode back west across Arizona to Las Vegas. Not for gambling or the shows or the women, but to meet my mother and father. They were at a convention for the electronic industry and didn't know I was coming. I was going to knock on their hotel room door and surprise them.Dad opened the door and I didn't know what to say. Apparently he didn't think words were necessary because he grabbed and hugged me. Mom came into the small entry to see who was at the door and she rushed over to join the family hug. For several minutes no words were needed, the hugs and kisses and tears said it all.Mom pulled me into the room and wouldn't let go of my hand. She and I sat. You'll be happy to know I have three thousand five hundred and eleven credits of age and eight thousand, four hundred, and twenty-two credits of beauty left." Left?" I said, a little too loudly. "Left? You mean you've already lost some?"She turned away from me. "A little. I started with thirty seven hundred age credits." "Wait a minute!" I sat down and started scratching numbers on a pad. "How many credits are possible?" "Does it really matter?" She said, her voice rising. "I lost almost two years, are you happy now? "Instead of being 23, now I'm over 25. Does it really make that much of a difference?"I stared at the stranger who had become my wife. How could she possibly be doing this to herself and why? We were happy, had our entire lives in front of us, but now through plain stupidity she had stolen two years of that life."Of course it makes a difference!" I yelled. "What the hell were you thinking?"Her dark eyes filled with tears, and for the first time I noticed that her eye.
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