Letter From A Constant Reader

LETTER FROM A CONSTANT READER

NEIL CUNNINGHAM

Editor's Note: A few days ago we received a most interesting and amusing communication from one of our readers. In the hope that you will enjoy it as much as we did, we are printing it below in its entirety, exactly as received.

Dear Carol ; I been reading your magazine for six to eight months and I really liked all five of them. Your articles are my favorites even when I dont understand them. The reason why I'm writing is, one of the nurses at the hospital said she figured that I was probably your No. 1 fan, and that I ought to write you a Fan Letter. What she really said was I ought to write you a bunch of them sos it would keep me off the streets. This nurse I'm talking about was real nice to me and tried to help me get well all the time, but she surely didn't like motorcycles. When I used to ask her why not she'd say Oh God, God; or like that. I dont usually like girls who swear a lot, but she was sure nice. Yeah. Real nice. I bet I'm her No. 1 fan, too. Well, I never wrote one of these things before, but I'm going to use my own name anyway. My Dad told me to always do that a long time ago on account of this big check trouble I had. Oh yeah, I was in the hospital this time because I hurt my leg in a race at Salinas. This here accident happened before the start when my kickstand collapsed, so I guess you couldn't really say that I got hurt in the race. I'm A-No.-l now, though. Yeah. Anyway, that's the breaks of the road, like I always say. You know, ever since I decided to be your No. 1 devoted fan I been wondering what you look like. I asked my buddy, Buddy Whistler and he said you were really Gordon Jennings, whoever he is. Buddy's all the time fooling around like that. You're not, are you? Also, my tuner, Marian, said that was you in the Triumph ad last issue, but I dont believe her either. Like, who ever heard of a man named Carol? (Besides, she fools around a lot, too. Lots of people do that. That old nurse I told you about up there said it was because I got this great sense of humor.) Anyway, if that was you in that ad, then all I can say is you're sure a big sucker. (That was me fooling around that time, Carol.) Say, maybe I'd better kinda interduce myself here. I bet you'd appreciate that, ha ha? My name is Emerson 0. Dingle and my friends call me Blackie. Sometimes they call me other things too. Like my buddy, Buddy always calls me Dinghy or Dinky or something, except I haven't seen him lately. I think he's mad at me because I called him a few filthy phrases when he took off on my No. 1 (or racing) bike. I really lost my temper that time, alright. Yeah. I wish I hadn't done that though, cause we've been hanging around together for a long time, me and him and

my ex-old lady. We're pretty tight, alright. Like, he came to see me when I was in the hospital this time, and borrowed twenty bucks from me like always. I would sure like to see him soon though, on account of they rode off on my No. 1 machine, like I said. Last time they did that I didn't find it for 6 to 8 weeks. I sure wish they wouldn't keep doing that, cause my No. 2 is a real old Honda which I never been able to figure out, on account of the instruction manual's in Japanese. (I just thought — what if that stuff is really Chinese? That would be a joke on me alright, wouldn't it Carol?) Anyway, I've been going down to the Goodwill store in Compton every week. That's where I found it last time. By the way, something comical is the way those nice old Goodwill ladies get so nervous when I go in to the store with my leathers on and everything. Yeah. And you know what, I get nervous too, so I always buy one of them dirty old books. (I just thought, next time I'm in the hospital I'll have plenty to read.) Getting back to me — I'm a jobless veteran, I'm fairly old, and I live in Torrance. Say forget that. I dont live there anymore. As far as girls go, I like girls in their early twenties or thirties, but if you're not that old Carol, I'll make an exception. I dont really care, anyway. I dont have any hobbies anymore, except I really like jazz, and I smoke a lot of it. I've been riding motorcycles a long time, but I cant always remember everything about that on account of I unload so much. It's kind of my trademark, going off a lot. Like lots of guys say my style's too much. (That's jive talk, Carol.) Anyway, so what? I dont really ever expect to be Dick Mahan. I dont think anybody else does either. Hardly ever, anyway. Please excuse me here for a couple days Carol, because my hand hurts. I think the phone's ringing anyway. Well, here I am again. By the way, dont try to call me cause I dont have a phone. I forgot. Anyway, I've really ridden a lot. One time I rode clean up to Anchorage, Alaska and back without stopping. No, I did stop once when I hit that Redwood. Well, how that little trip happened was, I had a headache like always and my buddy, Buddy Whistler went in his mother's medicine chest and gave me these six to eight big

Thursday old orange aspirins. At least he said they were aspirins. Baby aspirins. But I know they weren't cause I took all of them and I still had a headache. For about five straight days. Yeah. That was a Godawful trip, Carol. You'll have to excuse me here, on account of I dont want to think about that crazy trip anymore. You know, I'm pretty sure now that there is something wrong with my riding style. Yeah. Maybe I've got too much killer instinct. One thing for sure, I've got a lot of guts. No I dont either. Well, like I always say, it's the breaks of the road that do it. In the long run. Oh by the way, I guess you heard about me and my .pia-'iSSÇ. ex-old lady splitting up. She was also my tuner and she did real good work. Everybody said that. Her name is Marian. It used to be Sybil Sue-Ann until she saw that movie all about motorcycle riders. I think it was called On The Waterfront. We been married a long time, on and off. Of course, it would be double bad if we'd had a mess of kids. Yeah. Sure would. I dont think we had any though. I'm sure sorry I cant send you that picture of me on my No. 1 machine, but it got all torn the other day in my back pocket, on account of I had a little bad luck on the Santa Ana freeway. As soon as I'm able to get my wallet out of that guy's grill I'll send you the other picture I have. So anyway, you would have seen that I'm pretty tall and good looking. The only thing is I got this little giggle, but you wouldn't have seen that. Most people dont notice it much unless they're nervous or something. Well Carol, it sure has been nice meeting you, but I got to stop now because my keester hurts so bad. I'll write you again soon. By the way, as your No. 1 Devoted Fan, I would have written a long time ago except my hand's been shot for about 4 years. Its just about A-No.-l now, though. Also, you can write me if you want. I probably wont get it though, unless you send it later after you find out where I moved to. Well so long again, and remind me to tell you about that time at Ascot when that big black dog bit me in the semimain. Your No. 1 Fan,

Emerson 0. Dingle Motorcycle Rider