The Swingin' Nutcracker
mentions:
Beemer Memories Pt. 1
Stan Kenton ~ City of Glass
The Wild One
Shorty Rogers - ca 1930's
photographer unknown
Showing posts with label BMW motorcycle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BMW motorcycle. Show all posts
August 27, 2017
Shorty Rogers articles/mentions
The Swingin' Nutcracker
mentions:
Beemer Memories Pt. 1
Stan Kenton ~ City of Glass
The Wild One
November 7, 2014
Beemer Memory 9: Well Made of California
photos by Styrous®
In the late 50's and 60's I used to go what we called back then, "junking" (not to be confused with the production term used in radio and television). There were dozens and dozens of junk stores along McAllister Street in the Fillmore District (aka, the Western Addition) in San Francisco and the most amazing things imaginable were to be found there. In one of those junk shops I found a motorcycle jacket manufactured by Well Made of California.
Long before I bought my BMW (see Beemer link below) this was the first of many motorcycle jackets I would eventually own. It was beat up when I bought it in the early 60's so it must have been from the 50's. I oiled and polished the black leather and put white shoe polish on the white leather parts. I loved this jacket and wore it for years in anticipation of the day I could buy my motorcycle.
the white leather lapels were the winner
the sleeves are very well worn . . . 
the fine workmanship was carried to the inside as well
What a fantastic jacket it was,
and it was well made!
Styrous® ~ Friday, November 7, 2014
~
August 9, 2013
Beemer Memories Pt. 7 ~ the last run
It was one year ago today, on August 9, 2012, that I went on my last bike run. It was with Bob and John, both members of the Oakland Motorcycle Club.
The month before, in July, I'd helped a little on the club's Three Bridges Run (something about that later). I didn't have the stamina to do the 3 Bridges that time, thus, I did a "Geezer Run" with them. Did I hear you ask, "What in the world is a 'Geezer Run'?" Very well, I'll tell you. It's a short-distance motorcycle run for mature (ok, old) guys, or gals for that matter, who can't or don't want to do the longer runs which require endurance. But in reality, it's for anyone who wants a short bike run, ergo the two kids who rode with me.
So, on that glorious day in August, I started out early and met up with the guys in the OMC's parking lot around noon. It was a blistering hot day! Perfect for riding!
well . . .
We took off and rode up to the ridge-top road along the hills overlooking Oakland, the views from which are spectacular. It's an incredible ride smack in the middle of a major metropolitan area. It was a beautifully clear and sunny day with air that had been scowered by the overnight fog; crystal clear as it can only be in the San Francisco Bay Area. We followed the tree-lined road into the hills overlooking Berkeley and rode a bit through Tilden Park. In the park, we stopped for lunch at the posh Tilden Park Golf Course.
After lunch we hopped on our bikes and took off. I rode for a couple of minutes then realized I didn't have my motorcycle gloves on (it was a zillion degrees and they were easily missed). I signaled to the guys I was turning back. I traced the way we'd come several times but couldn't find the gloves. I could have bought another pair later but these gloves had special significance to me. They were gauntlet-type, full leather, motocycle gloves. The gauntlet part of most of the gloves being made now are vinyl; full-leather ones are hard to find. Also, I'd bought them when I bought my Beemer in 1972 so they had sentimental value for me.
I was about to give up when Bob rode up to me and handed my gloves to me. He'd found them on the side of the road. Thanks, Bob, and Saint Anthony.
When we finally got back on the road again, we back-tracked in the direction we'd come. This time we were on the view side of the road so we stopped to check out the view.
I do not regret my decision to give up riding for one second. I have 40 years of fantastic biking memories
and I have had adventures galore; not many people can say that. And I
could not possibly have had a better "Last Run" than the one I had that
day.
Thanks, Bob and John, you and my last run were terrific and in spite (or maybe because) of the scary moments, one I'll always treasure!
Safe, sane and good riding to all you bikers out there.
The month before, in July, I'd helped a little on the club's Three Bridges Run (something about that later). I didn't have the stamina to do the 3 Bridges that time, thus, I did a "Geezer Run" with them. Did I hear you ask, "What in the world is a 'Geezer Run'?" Very well, I'll tell you. It's a short-distance motorcycle run for mature (ok, old) guys, or gals for that matter, who can't or don't want to do the longer runs which require endurance. But in reality, it's for anyone who wants a short bike run, ergo the two kids who rode with me.
So, on that glorious day in August, I started out early and met up with the guys in the OMC's parking lot around noon. It was a blistering hot day! Perfect for riding!
that's my Beemer on the left
photo by Styrous®
well . . .
We spent a while trying to figure out where we'd go while I goofed around taking silly photos of ourselves.
Tres Amigos
John on the left, Bob on the right
(helmet hair in the middle)
photo by Styrous®
We took off and rode up to the ridge-top road along the hills overlooking Oakland, the views from which are spectacular. It's an incredible ride smack in the middle of a major metropolitan area. It was a beautifully clear and sunny day with air that had been scowered by the overnight fog; crystal clear as it can only be in the San Francisco Bay Area. We followed the tree-lined road into the hills overlooking Berkeley and rode a bit through Tilden Park. In the park, we stopped for lunch at the posh Tilden Park Golf Course.
photo by Styrous®
We had a "functional" lunch in the golf course restaurant but what made it special was the camaraderie the three of us had in the baking-hot shade (it was like sitting in an oven) of the restaurant's veranda as we lingered over lunch and talked.
After lunch we hopped on our bikes and took off. I rode for a couple of minutes then realized I didn't have my motorcycle gloves on (it was a zillion degrees and they were easily missed). I signaled to the guys I was turning back. I traced the way we'd come several times but couldn't find the gloves. I could have bought another pair later but these gloves had special significance to me. They were gauntlet-type, full leather, motocycle gloves. The gauntlet part of most of the gloves being made now are vinyl; full-leather ones are hard to find. Also, I'd bought them when I bought my Beemer in 1972 so they had sentimental value for me.
motorcycle gauntlet
photo by Styrous®
I was about to give up when Bob rode up to me and handed my gloves to me. He'd found them on the side of the road. Thanks, Bob, and Saint Anthony.
When we finally got back on the road again, we back-tracked in the direction we'd come. This time we were on the view side of the road so we stopped to check out the view.
my Beemer and the view
photo by Styrous®
Bob and John checking out the view
photo by Styrous®
what they were looking at . . .
photo by Styrous®
I got this amazing shot of the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz Island (immortalized in numerous movies and novels) and the beautiful San Francisco bay but I was bone-tired and completely exhausted by that time.
I got on my bike and was riding along a sharply curved, very steep part of the road when I lost control of the bike. I missed the turn, veered off to the left into the on-coming traffic lane then on to a shoulder turn-out on the opposite side of the road. I had been extremely lucky as most of the road had NO shoulder turn-outs; also, I had narrowly avoided running head-on into a car during the maneuver. Needless to say, the whole incident scared the $#!‡ out of me.
When I got home from the run (with an enormous sigh of relief I might add) I realized that for over forty years I had been driving without an accident and that I had been lucky beyond all statistics imaginable.
I put my helmet and motorcycle gloves (the ones I'd bought in 1972) away with the realization I didn't have the strength and agility of my younger years for riding anymore. I also understood the events of the day were signaling me that it was time to quit pushing my luck; it was time to hang up the keys. This would be the last run.
I got on my bike and was riding along a sharply curved, very steep part of the road when I lost control of the bike. I missed the turn, veered off to the left into the on-coming traffic lane then on to a shoulder turn-out on the opposite side of the road. I had been extremely lucky as most of the road had NO shoulder turn-outs; also, I had narrowly avoided running head-on into a car during the maneuver. Needless to say, the whole incident scared the $#!‡ out of me.
YIKES!
When I got home from the run (with an enormous sigh of relief I might add) I realized that for over forty years I had been driving without an accident and that I had been lucky beyond all statistics imaginable.
I put my helmet and motorcycle gloves (the ones I'd bought in 1972) away with the realization I didn't have the strength and agility of my younger years for riding anymore. I also understood the events of the day were signaling me that it was time to quit pushing my luck; it was time to hang up the keys. This would be the last run.
helmet & 1972 BMW motorcycle ignition key
photo by Styrous®
Epilogue
Thanks, Bob and John, you and my last run were terrific and in spite (or maybe because) of the scary moments, one I'll always treasure!
Safe, sane and good riding to all you bikers out there.
Styrous© ~ August 9, 2013
~
May 22, 2013
Beemer Memories Pt. 6 ~ corn dogs 'n nieces
I received a comment about Beemer Memory Pt. 1 (see link below), it is too good a memory to remain just a comment.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
My Dearest Uncle Max,
I came to Grandma's in San Francisco in February of 1972 [it was actually 1973, I bought my Beemer in September of 1972 - Styrous] at the age of 19 with my 1 year old baby Michael. You came and picked me up to take me for a day's long journey on your new baby BMW. We went through Golden Gate as well as the Cliff House and along the Beach.
You also introduced me to the infamous Corn Dog and after telling you I never had one you said. "What? You haven't lived until you've had a Corn Dog!" and insisted it had to be eaten with Mustard ;}
We then went along the Beach and through many, many hills before going home at the end of our day.
It was a wonderful Memory on your bike that day and I thought {and still do} you were absolutely the best Uncle ever! I've been on many Motorcycles {as we've always owned one as well} but the day on your bike is the best memory I have on any bike...I wish we took a picture {though I want to say I think we did :} THANK YOU!
I Love You, Conni
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thank you, Conni. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I still remember wiping mustard off your cheek with one of the paper napkins that came with the corn dog. You were nineteen, lovely and full of life. In my eyes you will always be nineteen, lovely and full of life.
Thank you for being part of that beautiful memory and especially for bringing it back to life for me; it as well as you make me young again.
Your loving uncle.
Styrous© ~ Wednesday, May 22, 2013
P. S. If you're in the Chicago area, check out Conni's custom made cakes; there are very unusual cake designs especially for expectant mothers; I wrote an article about it (see link below). Her website is Conni's Custom Cakes.
P. S. If you're in the Chicago area, check out Conni's custom made cakes; there are very unusual cake designs especially for expectant mothers; I wrote an article about it (see link below). Her website is Conni's Custom Cakes.
Links:
May 6, 2013
Beemer Memory 4 ~ Leatherneck bar, San Francisco, 1977
The Leatherneck bar logo
The Leatherneck bar opened in 1976 on 11th and Folsom and was owned by Allan Lowery. It was south of Market Street in the area now called SOMA before it was known as SOMA. Previously, It was only referred to as south of Market or south of The Slot. The Slot referred to the slot along Market that held the cables that drew the cable cars. The cars and the slot had disappeared decades earlier but the name stuck.
As part of promotions for the bar, I did a series of dance performances in 1977-78. At one point I remember discussing the idea of dragging my Beemer into the bar for one of these performances. We may have done it, however, I have no recollection of actually doing it. It could have happened, though, because it was a wild and crazy time and we did stuff like that (see Disco Daze link below).
As part of promotions for the bar, I did a series of dance performances in 1977-78. At one point I remember discussing the idea of dragging my Beemer into the bar for one of these performances. We may have done it, however, I have no recollection of actually doing it. It could have happened, though, because it was a wild and crazy time and we did stuff like that (see Disco Daze link below).
dancing at the Leatherneck bar circa 1977
photo by Jim Stewart
The amazing cast of characters who frequented the bar was right out of some kind of cheap pulp novel. Jack Fritcher wrote about it in one of his series of articles about Drummer Magazine (The Leatherneck: the Ultimate Bar of the Seventies). The article features photos by Jim Stewart. I modeled for several articles in Drummer Magazine. Drummer was published from 1975 to 1999.
Photographer, Jim Stewart wrote about the Leatherneck Bar in his book, Folsom Street Blues: A Memoir of 1970s. I have been mentioned in it.
I have the original series of four posters for which I modeled for the Leatherneck which I'll post at some point.
What an incredible time in my life as well as the history of San Francisco it was. Everything was open, free and rich with possibilities.
~
20,000 vinyl LPs 4: The Skatt Brothers: Disco Daze
Folsom Street Blues: A Memoir of 1970s. is available at Amazon.
Styrous® ~ Monday, May 6, 2013
~
April 26, 2013
Beemer Memories Pt. 3 ~ Beginnings
Paulie
photo by Tim
(click on any image to see larger size)
Sold my Beemer a couple of days ago. This is a shot of Paulie, the man who bought it. He sent it to me during our emails back and forth, he said, "I'm sitting on a brand new Honda CB450 that my oldest brother, Tim, bought in Hong Kong and brought back on the USS Coral Sea." The photo was taken by his brother. "That photo captured the very beginning of a long love affair with bikes."
Paulie then shot his brother in turn. "Here's another pic, but of him, showing off his bike and his Hong Kong tailor made suit."
Paulie's brother, Tim
photo by Paul
photo by Paul
I sent Paulie this one of me taken just after I'd bought my Beemer in 1972. I was so proud and happy to have realized a dream come true after twenty years (see link below).
me circa 1972
photo by John Camp
photo by John Camp
After he bought my Beemer he wrote, "I was happy to meet you and Tom and see people taking art seriously. Photographs are among my greatest treasures, my greatest pleasures. There's so much power there for an image to bring me to tears or to make me laugh or excite me in any way."
Any question why I'm a happy man now?
Thanks, Paulie.
Happy and safe riding.
Styrous® ~ August 26, 2013
~
Beemer Memories Pt. 2 ~ Realizations
1972 BMW R60/5 motorcycle chrome battery covers
photo by Styrous®
(click on image to see larger size)
I received a great email about my blog entry on the sale of my Beemer (see link #1 below). I said some things in it I wanted to put in something more than an email, so here it is.
Email from BJ:
"What wonderful and exhilarating experiences!!!! I am so afraid of bikes and have never wanted to drive one, but your account of the sierra foothills ride without your helmet makes me want to want it!... although only for the 20 years younger bjo :)
It is bitter sweet to hear of this transition and I'm fighting what it represents Tooth and Nail!: the passing from youth to elder to beyond.
I Love you and I LOVE your sorted, crazy, guiltless, daring, rebellious and FANTASTIC life time journey!!!!!!!!!!
It is bitter sweet to hear of this transition and I'm fighting what it represents Tooth and Nail!: the passing from youth to elder to beyond.
I Love you and I LOVE your sorted, crazy, guiltless, daring, rebellious and FANTASTIC life time journey!!!!!!!!!!
You're the best! and thanks for the blog"
My response to BJ:
What a terrific reply to my blog, BJ, I'm deeply touched. Thank you.
Yes, the "passing . . . to elder to beyond" part is a difficult task. It's VERY strange what's happening to me right now, it's been slowly building for over a year. I find myself in the curious process of the dismantling of my life. I will explain.
My whole life was involved in the process of accumulating things, stuff. Generally, I did not do it casually (my motorcycle, my record collection, etc.) but with care and thought. I now find I am beginning to disperse these accumulations with the same care. Kind of like a man who has attached a very long strip of cloth to his waist then slowly turns so the cloth wraps around his waist until he gets to the end of the cloth which by then, if he has done it properly, has become a beautiful, resplendent sash. It is complete, neat, perfect and radiant. Then he must gently, gracefully and with great thought turn in the opposite direction and unravel the cloth; but he must do it with care so the cloth may then be passed on to someone who will value and cherish it as he did.
I have come to the realization that this is a good thing. I have the luxury of doing it in my own fashion and time rather than letting someone else go through the dreary process of doing it after I've gone many years from now. (I sure hope it's many years from now.) :-)
The sale of my bike was a fantastic experience for me. I had emotions I did not expect and did not have emotions I had expected. There was no sense of loss, grief or sadness when I watched Paul (the new owner) ride off on it. I felt nostalgic, to be sure, but that is not loss. Nostalgia is an honoring, respecting and savoring of a time, place or thing. Nostalgia makes me sad occasionally but mostly it brings to life a time of special importance in my life; I relive it. That's a good thing and it's important.
By the same token, I felt emotions I had anticipated in NO way what-so-ever!
I had received many email replies to my first ad on Craig's List. Almost all (but not all) were flaky in one way or another which I won't go into, it's not important. I had asked an amount for it with no expectation of getting it.
The ad expired so I re-listed it but lowered the price. Once again I got the flakes, etc,. but I ended up selling my Beemer to Paulie who would treat my Beemer with the care it deserved (to understand, see link #2 below).
Since the sale I have still been receiving inquiries about the bike and when I've told them it's been sold they have regretted the missed opportunity.
All this is to explain the unexpected feelings of lightness, relief, joy, happiness and gratitude that my beloved Beemer was going to the right person. The experience made me realize why I've taken so long to do anything about my record collection other than write about it in my blog (see link #3 below). I want the collection dispersed with care; it has to go to the right person, place or situation that will respect it for what it is. An entity bigger than the individual parts.
Yes, the "passing . . . to elder to beyond" part is a difficult task. It's VERY strange what's happening to me right now, it's been slowly building for over a year. I find myself in the curious process of the dismantling of my life. I will explain.
My whole life was involved in the process of accumulating things, stuff. Generally, I did not do it casually (my motorcycle, my record collection, etc.) but with care and thought. I now find I am beginning to disperse these accumulations with the same care. Kind of like a man who has attached a very long strip of cloth to his waist then slowly turns so the cloth wraps around his waist until he gets to the end of the cloth which by then, if he has done it properly, has become a beautiful, resplendent sash. It is complete, neat, perfect and radiant. Then he must gently, gracefully and with great thought turn in the opposite direction and unravel the cloth; but he must do it with care so the cloth may then be passed on to someone who will value and cherish it as he did.
I have come to the realization that this is a good thing. I have the luxury of doing it in my own fashion and time rather than letting someone else go through the dreary process of doing it after I've gone many years from now. (I sure hope it's many years from now.) :-)
The sale of my bike was a fantastic experience for me. I had emotions I did not expect and did not have emotions I had expected. There was no sense of loss, grief or sadness when I watched Paul (the new owner) ride off on it. I felt nostalgic, to be sure, but that is not loss. Nostalgia is an honoring, respecting and savoring of a time, place or thing. Nostalgia makes me sad occasionally but mostly it brings to life a time of special importance in my life; I relive it. That's a good thing and it's important.
By the same token, I felt emotions I had anticipated in NO way what-so-ever!
I had received many email replies to my first ad on Craig's List. Almost all (but not all) were flaky in one way or another which I won't go into, it's not important. I had asked an amount for it with no expectation of getting it.
The ad expired so I re-listed it but lowered the price. Once again I got the flakes, etc,. but I ended up selling my Beemer to Paulie who would treat my Beemer with the care it deserved (to understand, see link #2 below).
Since the sale I have still been receiving inquiries about the bike and when I've told them it's been sold they have regretted the missed opportunity.
All this is to explain the unexpected feelings of lightness, relief, joy, happiness and gratitude that my beloved Beemer was going to the right person. The experience made me realize why I've taken so long to do anything about my record collection other than write about it in my blog (see link #3 below). I want the collection dispersed with care; it has to go to the right person, place or situation that will respect it for what it is. An entity bigger than the individual parts.
I want my beautiful sash unraveled with care.
Link #1: Beemer Memories Pt. 1 ~ The end and the Beginning
Link #2: Why I chose Paulie:
Beemer Memories Pt. 3 ~ Beginnings
Styrous® ~ April 26, 2013
~
April 25, 2013
Beemer Memories ~ articles
~
Beemer Memory 1 ~ the end & the beginning
Beemer Memory 2 ~ Realizations
Beemer Memory 3 ~ Beginnings
Beemer Memory 4 ~ Leatherneck, S. F., 1977
Beemer Memory 5 ~ Leatherneck, Pillow & a Hungry i
Beemer Memory 6 ~ corn dogs 'n nieces
Beemer Memory 7 ~ the last run
Beemer Memory 8 ~ Drummer Magazine
Beemer Memory 9 ~ Well Made of California
Beemer Memory 10 ~ 1977 CARNIFAIR ~ dancin' for the Seamen
Beemer Memory 11 ~ Leatherneck posters
Beemer Memory 12 ~ Forty years on with No Name
Beemer Memory 13 ~ Betty Davis, Kaisik Wong & Sandra Sakata
Beemer Memory 14 ~ Sandra Sakata & the Obiko fashion shows
Beemer Memory 20 ~ Protest poster ~ another deja vu
Beemer Memory 21 ~ Pillow (She-Beast) & The Hungry i
Beemer Memory 22 ~ The Eagle Iron & Leather Shop
Beemer Memory 23 ~ Raul Reyna motorcycle sculptures
Beemer Memory 24 ~ motorcycle gauntlets ~ 1972
Beemer Memory 25 ~ Hangin' out at the Hungry i
Beemer Memory 26 ~ Vangelis, 666, Pillow & me at the Hungry i
Beemer Memory 27 ~ Jim Stewart ~ photographer & Friend
Beemer Memory 28 ~ Hungry i articles
Beemer Memory 29 ~ Marilyn @ the Hungry i
Beemer Memory 30 ~ The Condor Club, Carol Doda, her piano & Theresa Hill
Beemer Memory 31 ~ Shine On You Crazy Diamond: Sid Barret
Beemer Memory 32 ~ Biker days, Enrico Banducci & a hungri i
Beemer Memory 33 ~ Tom of Finland
Beemer Memory 34 ~ Crescent Beach & French Fries
Beemer Memory 35 ~ Carol Doda, the Condor Club & a hungry i
Green links in the articles lead to more information about the article.
1972 BMW R60/5 motorcycle "Toaster" tank
photo by Styrous©
(click on image to see larger size)
~
~
April 23, 2013
Beemer Memories Pt. 1 ~ the end & the beginning
I sold my BMW bike today! I watched with a pang of panic (but not sadness for some reason) as the new owner rode off down the street on it happy with his new dream, leaving me with my old memories. Yes, I sold my beautiful Beemer but not the wonderful memories of over 40 years of happy (well, sometimes not so happy) adventures.
This is the order of the memories that popped into my brain as I watched my old buddy vanish forever into the new life that lay ahead.
Before the helmet law went into effect I only wore mine on the freeways. On highways or back roads I strapped it to the buddy bars. I remembered riding along the roads in the Sierra foothills during fantastically hot summers with the exciting visual of the rush of the road under my feet on the foot pegs; the warm wind blowing through my hair; the strobe effect on my face and sunglasses as the sun filtered down through the trees overhanging the road, and the throbbing of my hardy steed between my legs sending pulsating rhythms from my crotch to my brain. A very erotic sensation, to be honest.
Next I remembered the year when the motorcycle helmet law went into effect. A couple of hours or so before midnight, on New Year's Eve, I rode around and around and around the figure 8 of Twin Peaks without my helmet for the last time. It was freezing cold but I was not going to pass up the last opportunity to be free of a cocooned existence on what should be a liberating, exhilarating and even ecstatic experience.
And last, I recalled the first time I rode my Beemer. I had never driven a bike in my life. I had dreamed of having one ever since I saw the 1953 film, The Wild One, when I was thirteen.
This is the order of the memories that popped into my brain as I watched my old buddy vanish forever into the new life that lay ahead.
Before the helmet law went into effect I only wore mine on the freeways. On highways or back roads I strapped it to the buddy bars. I remembered riding along the roads in the Sierra foothills during fantastically hot summers with the exciting visual of the rush of the road under my feet on the foot pegs; the warm wind blowing through my hair; the strobe effect on my face and sunglasses as the sun filtered down through the trees overhanging the road, and the throbbing of my hardy steed between my legs sending pulsating rhythms from my crotch to my brain. A very erotic sensation, to be honest.
Next I remembered the year when the motorcycle helmet law went into effect. A couple of hours or so before midnight, on New Year's Eve, I rode around and around and around the figure 8 of Twin Peaks without my helmet for the last time. It was freezing cold but I was not going to pass up the last opportunity to be free of a cocooned existence on what should be a liberating, exhilarating and even ecstatic experience.
And last, I recalled the first time I rode my Beemer. I had never driven a bike in my life. I had dreamed of having one ever since I saw the 1953 film, The Wild One, when I was thirteen.
The Wild One movie poster
The film featured an impossibly handsome and incredibly young Marlon Brando as biker Johnny Strabler. Brando's acting and Strabler's image made cynicism, hoodlumizm (is there such a word?) and disrespect attitudes well worth emulating.
still from the film, The Wild One
What hot-blooded, 13-year-old, American boy didn't aspire to an image like this one? The film featured a jazz score by Leith Stevens and it was my first exposure to jazz as well.
The Wild One album cover
photographer unknown
photo of album cover by Styrous®
The film was banned in England for decades and was the first to depict teen rebellion, dissatisfaction and alienation. At one point during the film, Brando and Mary Murphy ride on his bike along the highway with the moonlight flickering through the leaves of the trees while the velvety-smooth jazz trumpet of Shorty Rogers gently serenades them as they dreamily glide along; a night-time prediction of my summer idylls to come two decades later. I would always hear that theme, Windswept, from the movie, when I rode down a road or highway with trees overhead and the strobe of the sunlight coming through them.
(WOW)
But I digress. In case you forgot, I was talking about my first ride on my Beemer. I had never even driven a bike before (I'd ridden as a buddy on the back of one two or three times); I only knew I had to have one. The salesman at Dave Golden Motorcycles who sold it to me took me out to the parking lot, gave me a five minute lesson in how to drive it then scooted me out into the rush hour traffic of Valencia Street. I don't think I've ever been so terrified in my life. It was only seven blocks from the dealership to my studio but I thought the ride would never end. I was so frightened by my first ride it took me two or three days before I could muster up the courage to get on it again.
My, oh my; that was over 40 years ago!
I wish the new owner a tenth of the joy I had from my old Beemer buddy. He will be deliriously happy for the rest of his life.
Surely, to be continued . . .
Styrous® - April 23, 2013
~
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