WHAT SAY YOU?

WE LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU, the letters are among the most keenly read parts of the magazine. Pleasetry and keep letters down to no more than 300 words. Then you can read many, not just a couple. We do reserve the right to cut them and, unless you identify yourself and at least your town or suburb and state, we will print your email address instead. Please address letters to thebear@ausmotorcyclist.com.au or Australian Motorcyclist Magazine, PO Box 2066, Boronia Park NSW 2111. All opinions published here are those of the writers and we do not vouch for their accuracy or even their sanity!

WHO CAN HAZ BAGZ?

Andy’s wonderful Shoulda Bagz goes to Stephen Renfree this month. We aren’t sharing his address, for reasons that will become obvious as you read his letter. It’s very long, but we couldn’t make ourselves cut it. While looking over his shoulder for Boris, Stephen will be enjoying the unequalled convenience and comfort of the Shoulda Bagz, one of Andy Strapz’ many fine products and one we use ourselves.

BORIS, BORIS, BORIS…

A splendid bit of stereotyping in the October edition. There we all are: the doddery, the hipsters, the folk in fluoro, the people who wear All The Gear All The Time, all put into nice little Boris boxes, and sent to the naughty corner. I would argue that motorcycle riding, which has a long and proud history of symbolising “freedom” is being given more rules and restrictions by peer leaders like Boris than by governments.

I plead guilty to all charges of being a ‘doddery old fool’ making the comeback to riding. I also plead guilty to a crash related night in hospital, resulting in the end of a career as a concert pianist or ballet dancer. I break the stereotype by not being scared to lane split – unless I’ve loaded up the panniers with my folding Zimmer frame – and I don’t wear fluoro because I don’t want to be confused for the postman by some psychotic jack russell. But – and this is my point – I don’t have a problem with those who do. I suspect that even if the ‘peer reviewed scientific studies’ loudly supported the wearing of fluoro gear, you’d still have a problem with it.

A bit like All The Gear All The Time. I choose to wear All The Gear All The Time, and thank heavens I do because,according to the paramedics attending the scene of The Great Bonneville Disaster of 2014 I’d be dead if I didn’t.

Road kill, scraped off a freeway and plated up as parmigiana in some aromatic Lygon Street cafe, just because I’ve asked for my organs to be recycled.

By all means Boris, feel free to ride to your fave Bad Boy Biker restaurant for your beloved marinated buffalo entrails (no cutlery) dressed only in a tuxedo loin cloth. My only twinge of concern is that, by doing so, you may be ‘devolving responsibility’ (your words, not mine) to taxpayers who have to fork out to put you back together again.

But then, what price do we place on individual freedoms? Frank Zappa once said “Everybody in this room is wearing a uniform, so don’t kid yourself.” That goes for the hipsters, the dodderers, the fluoro wearers and, most of all, the Bori. (Assuming that more than one Boris is a Bori.) Servo station sunnies. Jeans. Motorsport cardigan. You look like one of those blokes you see on the bus, who always wanted to attend an HSV track day but could only afford a Barina. You’re gazing upwards (was a blimp passing by?) with your hands on your hips, looking for all the world like one of grandma’s sugar bowls. Hell, all we’d have to do is pop you in a cute lacy frock, jam a teaspoon up your arse, and you’d be set up quite nicely for a high tea.

I think you’re being unfair on SMIDSY.

You’re obviously an highly intelligent unit, but there are many knuckle draggers out there who can barely speak but somehow, nevertheless, become licensed to propel lumps of metal around at high speeds. As Tony Abbott found out at the last election, these species only look up from their beer and reproductive organs when prodded by ‘inane’ slogans.

I did laugh my leg off at your article though Boris. Very funny, and beautifully written. Maybe the next time you are out on your ride, wave at the fluoro brigade. Chat to the marketing man on the 1961 Vespa and ask him where he got his handbag.

Come over and show the old bugger on the Harley how to lane split. Riding isn’t the domain of the tough, the trendy or those searching for their youth.

We do it because we love it. And there can’t be a problem with that, can there?

Stephen Renfree Southbank , Vic