Except for a querulous exchange with Ol’ Anonymouse down in the basement section of the comments to a previous post this has been a delightfully politics free day.
I got a long letter from an old motorcycling buddy who waxed eloquent about “The World’s Fastest Indian.” In case you’ve missed it that’s the flick about Burt Monro, the New Zealander who in his sixties set a world landspeed record with a 1920 Indian motorcycle.
It’s a wonderful performance by Anthony Hopkins in a movie that is more nearly about the triumph of the human spirit than about motorcycles… although there are enough motorcycles to warm the mechanical cockles of any old biker’s heart.
What really cheered my friend was a scene in which he actually saw, Oh.My. God his old Triumph motorcycle! Well not the actual one, of course, but the very model. He explained to his wife what that meant to him, what riding had meant and still means. His wife said there were mice in the pantry and would he please take out the garbage.
He went for a ride. So did I, as an act of solidarity.
After a number of household chores I went to a rehearsal for the Rogue Theatre’s production of “The Dead.” I’ll put up a picture or two tomorrow (I hope.)
A letter from a friend about sidecars prompted some interesting thoughts about hacks but it’s not likely that many regulars here have that special interest. If you do, look for them over in The Data Port/Motorcycles tomorrow.