One Old-Fashioned Father To Another

ONE OLD-FASHIONED FATHER TO ANOTHER

UP FRONT

Allan Girdler

Here is a letter I wish I could have written. Dear Cycle World, I am sixteen years old and have been reading your magazine for a couple of years now. I am always happy to see it come, although my father isn't. I currently ride a Honda Express because it is the only bike my parents let me ride.

Lately I 've been looking for a bigger bike, something that will at least keep up with traffe. So when I saw this 1975 RD350 that had hardly been ridden and had a nice price tag, I carefully approached my father with the idea. Just as I thought would happen, the roof almost fell in. He said that he didn V want a vegetable sitting around the house.

Do you have any ideas on how to talk to an old-fashioned father? I would appreciate any advice you might have.

James Bertolucci Bakersfeld, Calif.

Dear James,

You have a volunteer. Talking to an oldfashioned father comes naturally to me. because 1 am one myself. Please give the enclosed letter to your dad.

Dear Mr. Bertolucci:

As you'll see from the enclosed correspondence. vour son has asked us for advice and 1 have offered to give it.

This isn't a polite thing to do. I am meddling in a problem that concerns only you and your son. 1 don't take kindly to being told how to handle my kids, and 1 ask your indulgence.

Ordinarily 1 wouldn't get involved. This seems to me an exception. I cannot remember ever being in a better position to see both sides of the question.

Where your son is now. I was when I was his age.

Where you are now. so am I. I have four children, ages 14 through 20. Three of them ride motorcycles, one of them doesn't.

And because I am an old-fashioned father, or maybe because 1 am a father. I worry about them all.

Motorcycles are something for a parent to worry about.

I could give vou the sales pitch. It's true.

I have been riding since I was your son's age. I've never crashed and never been hurt.

I could tell you the other side of the truth. My brother-in-law in Denver pulled off the road to put on his heavy gloves. A truck ran over him and left him for dead. He'll be a long time in the hospital. I know that despite all the ifs and justifications, if he'd been driving a car it wouldn't have happened.

You can ride a motorcycle for 25 years and not come close to getting scratched.

You can be horribly injured through no fault of your own.

William S. Paley. board chairman of CBS, owner of this magazine, once asked Cycle World founder Joe Parkhurst “Why do people ride motorcycles?"

Joe said “Because it's fun" and Mr. Palev nodded. He isn't a motorcycle enthusiast but he is a smart man and he knows a valid answer when he hears it.

Riding motorcvcles is fun. Motorcycles are sport, they are entertainment, they are a skill. They are transportation and they conserve resources but most of all they are fun. Your son likes the wind and the weather, the feeling of being part of life, rather than watching it through a window. He probably likes machinery and technology and there is no more honest machine than an engine slung between two wheels.

I understand this all too well. I am that way myself. When I was your son's age. though, here were no magazines to write to. at lea t not with any hope of getting an answer. When 1 became interested in bikes.

I didn't even bother to ask my father. He was old-fashioned. He knew about murdercycles and the half-human creatures who rode them. I learned how to ride on a clapped-out pile of cast iron older than I was. No helmet, no training, no license. I managed to get rolling and to get the thing not home, but to a friendly neighbor's barn. I survived, by the grace of God. When mv writing is quoted in respectable magazines, my dad clips the item and sends it to me.

But I don't think he's ever stopped worrying about me.

You see what I meant about understanding both sides?

One generation later, when my kids got interested in bikes. I worried about them.

I made sure they learned the right way. on kid-sized machines, in helmets and boots and gloves and heavy pants and long-sleeved shirts. They learned off the road, under adult supervision. By the time my 16-vear-old could have a license he'd been riding motorcycles for six years. He got a better score on the written test than I did my last time. He passed the riding test with a perfect score.

He was five minutes late getting home from the test and there I was. pacing the: driveway. I am writing this at home, in the evening. Mv oldest, the girl, works late tonight. Mv middle son took his truck to the other side of town, to practice guitar with a pal. It's a foggy night and I won't relax until they're home.

I think I know the feeling of not w anting a vegetable around the house.

But I let the kids ride motorcycles.

Why?

Mistakes are part ot' growing up. Mv oldest son has had two motorcycle spills. Thev weren't his fault and because he was not speeding and he was properly dressed, all he lost was some skin and some pride. Worst injurs he's ever had was a sliced thumb when he was working at a printing shop. The second boy got a concussion falling out of a tree and the girl broke her arm when she rode down a steep hill on her bicvcie.

If I knew a way to keep mv children safe and happv /ill their lives. I'd do it. There is no wav. Thev'll have to do it for themselves. Twelve days from now the oldest bov joins the Armv. Later this year the girl will be married. Mv wife and I have done our best and we know it wasn't as good as we wanted it to be.

It comes down to character. Couple years ago I had a neighbor w hose son was graduating from high school. He knew I am a moto-nut and he asked what car I thought he should buv the kid. Secondhand MG. I said, the kid can learn to work on it and they're fun to drive around, top down and all that.

He didn't see it. A sports car? The kid will drive too fast and make noise. So he bought a Chew with six-cylinder motor.

T he son packed all his pals into the car. made a record attempt on our local Dead Man's Curve . . . and rolled the ear six times. He wasn't hurt, thank God. and I decided then that the machine wasn't the issue. It was the nut behind the wheel or holding the handlebars.

Earlier I mentioned that I don't like having people tell me how to raise my kids. What I do like is having people tell me what good kids thev are.

That's what I want to sav about vour son. Check his letter. Neatlv typed. Spelling is correct and the grammar and punctuation are perfect.

More important, he respects you. He isn't going to defy your wishes. He's asking permission. And if I read the letter right, he plans to pay for the motorcycle himself.

You still have your responsibilities, but I believe you've done your job. His character is formed. If he'll listen to his father, he’ll listen to his own common sense. He can have fun and sport and save money without having to act the fool.

Speaking as an old-fashioned father. I hope you'll give him the chance to show vou w hat a sood son you’ve raised.