Wearing your power suit, school tie (matching handkerchief, of course) and highly polished shoes, you slide into the Lexus and take to the open road, only to languish for hours, crawling through the rush hour traffic both coming and going.

Dreaming of the coming, long-awaited weekend.

Yes, the weekend - a "no suit, no tie, trade-in-the-work-clothes-for-your-favorite-jeans-and-a-stylish-leather-jacket, custom-fitted boots", long holiday weekend.

The Lexus stays in the garage.

You sit astride a machine designed and built by not just engineers, but by craftsmen carrying on a long tradition of European precision.
A machine bearing the initials BMW.
You sit, savoring the moment, and anticipating the ride awaiting you, the roads that yearn to be traveled upon by the synergy that is you and your motorcycle. At your command, the bike awakens, its power and artistry at your fingertips.

You don your sunglasses and look both left and right, to survey the road to
determine which direction you and your motorcycle will master today.

Damn. Snow.