What Your Bike Says About You
What your bike says about you
LEANINGS
Peter Egan
BY NOW, WE’VE PROBABLY ALL SEEN THAT famous article titled “What Your Car Says About You.” In fact, if you get email and have friends who sit around in offices all day with almost nothing to do, you’ve probably seen it about 200 times. Fun stuff, although I don’t know who wrote the thing or where it came from. As you may have noticed, nothing is ever properly credited on the net. In fact, people are starting to send me my own columns, unattributed, with the notation, “I read this somewhere and thought it might be right up your alley.” Up my alley, indeed. Anyway, not to be outdone in the gentle art of plagiarism, I thought it was time to throw together a similar list for motorcyclists. Most of us, like it or not, form a quick, thumbnail impression of the rider coming toward us on the road, based on his or her brand and model of motorcycle. Usually, we’re dead wrong, of course, but the snap judgment always produces a warm glow of superiority in the secondrate brain, which Miss Dillon, my 8th grade teacher, assured me I most certainly had. And would have always. So be it. Here’s my own take on What Your Bike Says About You. Ducati 916 SPS monoposto: My wife is having an affair with her tennis coach. Honda STI 100: I really do understand the stock market.
1967 Triumph T120 Bonneville: If I’d had this bike instead of a Cushman Eagle when I lived at the fraternity house in 1965, I might now be married to a former cheerleader named Veronica. Harley-Davidson XR1000: All my left shoes are made of steel, and all my motorcycle boots have laces. Yamaha TZ250: My other bike is a van. Brough Superior SSI00: My mother was an Episcopalian. Moto Guzzi Eldorado: If I’d wanted a Harley, I’d have bought a Harley. But I didn’t, and I didn’t. Honda GL1500 Gold Wing Aspencade: The wife and I both feel that donuts are an unfairly maligned and under-appreciated source of protein and minerals. BMW R1100RT: The sound system on my bike is permanently tuned to Public Radio, but when I play it too loud I can’t hear the cell phone. Velocette Thruxton: I have a professional-quality dartboard in our basement ree room, next to the real ale tapper on the wet bar. Yamaha V-Max: I am the only mechanical engineer in our office with a Mohawk. Ural Tourist: My Yugo is waiting for parts. India Enfield Bullet: My 1965 shortwheelbase Land Rover is waiting for parts. Triumph Speed Triple: I’m not waiting for any parts. Ever again. Honda Elite 80: My mom is knitting a warmer scarf for going to class.
Vincent Series C Black Shadow: If you need to borrow any books or videos on the Battle of Britain, the life of Winston Churchill or Gordon’s defense of Khartoum, I have an extensive library. Honda CBX: I can pronounce both “Soichiro” and “Irimagiri” correctly. Also, I own many valve shims. Suzuki TL1000R: Desmo Schmezmo; I just wanna ride. MV Agusta 750S: Our firstborn son is the only Ago Schmiddlekopf in the Milwaukee phone book.
Kawasaki ZX-11 : I am on my way to our insurance agent’s office for a personal conference, during which I will explain everything. Honda 400F: My husband thinks I believe he bought this bike just for me. Suzuki GSX1300R Hayabusa: The Honda CBR1100XX was making me late for work. Triumph Trophy TR6-C: I have seen The Great Escape, starring Steve McQueen, 27 times. And so have my two remaining friends. Munch Mammoth: I have been fighting a lifelong, losing battle with the Dark Side. . Honda CBR600F2: My older brother is in the Air Force. Pope 998 V-Twin: I am on my way to the annual stationary steam engine and vintage farm implement meet. Norton 750 Atlas: I tried smooth and found it overrated. í Harley-Davidson WLA 45 Flathead: I am saving for a Stearman. 1942 BMW R75: I show the Luger collection only to a few close friends who know how to handle them without leaving acidic or salty fingerprints. Honda Pacific Coast: I am among that very small minority of human beings who honestly don’t care what anybody else thinks. If I did, I’d probably own a bike just like yours.
Harley FX Super Glide “Night Train”: There are only six things in my refrigerator, and they are all beer. Henderson Four: My grandson thinks these computers are quite the coming thing, apparently. Yamaha Rl: My hair is not actually on fire, it’s just a figure of speech. Maico 360 X4: Since the bypass surgery, my dirt riding and energy level have improved tremendously. Bimota DB3 Mantra: Ducatis are all very well, but I don’t find them quite Italian enough. Moto Guzzi Centauro: Sometimes I misspell the word “eccentric” on purpose, just to be different. Whizzer/Schwinn Phantom: I still own my first baseball glove, Warren Spahn-autograph model. Boss Hoss V8: I can curl more weight with one arm than you can move on a refrigerator dolly. MV Agusta F4 Oro: My wife is spending exactly $37,000 on our kitchen, just as soon as she can find a contractor. Honda Valkyrie: I tried vibration and lassitude and found them overrated. Harley-Davidson 883 Sportster: I am on my way to the Harley shop to purchase a larger set of pistons. Buell Thunderbolt: This big air-cleaner housing is coming right off, just as soon as I can get home to my toolbox. Honda CL77 305 Scrambler: My high school letter jacket still fits. More or less. O
