Two Harleys In Vienna
TWO HARLEYS IN VIENNA
Sometimes Being American Has Its Advantages
David Rounds
Last night we went to a motorcycle show in the old Palais Kinski. First we went to help set up. in the afternoon. It was dazzling–tiled courtyard. potted palms. silveryframed etchings. wine and heady beer. We brought the new XLCR "cafe racer" (which would steal the show. sootyanodized, onyx and American amidst all the chromy quadracylindered exotica. never mind that its V-design was contemporary with the last Kaiser). The band was tuning up and would I be so kind as to letter some signs with my American-style characters and, yes. please do one for the Ducati and here's another beer and if you would also .
Evening. Ernst on the FLH Classic and Elfi & I riding a red FXE. Borrowed number plates on two spanking-new hogs and the smell of delinquent lilacs swirling inside my face shield, cross town on cobbled streets and tram rails, cross the Danube Canal to the lit up ritzy First District and through the ponderous gate of Palais Kinski, we roar in: Ernst, Elfriede and I. Applause ripples through the audience. Immediately there's an assemblage around the two Harleys and what's this but Ernst at the microphone, introducing Elfi his Sekretärin and me der Mechaniker and the two hogs, and if any pretty women in the audience would like a Probefahrt (trial ride) they should present themselves sofort at the mike stand, and ZOOM, he's off again out the gate. And now it’s just me and Elfi left to deal with this red hog tink-tink-tinking on the tiles, cooling in a pool of its own spreading heat, crackling like the tube of a
TV set w hen you turn it off. And (oh. it’s elegant) the droves of people milling around the likes of which thev’ve never seen. And there’s tuxedoed waiters and long skirts and a hundred Japanese lanterns. The band is playing a waltz and here’s Count Schonborn himself in his three-piecer. come to ask about this here hog. The Schonborn family used to own this palace, gave it to the city. Count Harrach is here too. He has a Norton. Palais Harrach is across the street, sort of. Actually these guys aren't counts but Grafen, is what they're called here in Austria. And Graf Schonborn is asking me all about this Harley, all about Nortons, would I like to ride on his private trials course and would I like another of these heady beers . . . and I notice we're getting chummy and w e're using the du form instead of the formal Sie, he because he's a Graf, me because I’m an American, exempt and exalted. And by and by I begin to notice he’s paving absolutely no attention to little Elfi here —that is. not being rude or anything; rather, acting as if she plain isn't there. Like he can see right through her. Elfriede the Invisible. Because he is a Graf and she is merely a motorcycle secretary. And of course she picks up on this and after he’s gone allows as how she’s got no use for these no-count Grafen anyhow. And I give her such an overt disgusting display of affection it would sicken a psychotic and off we go then, Elfriede the Invisible and I. Pa.Ed. swaggering arm-inarm through the chrome and potted palms of Palais Kinski.
