In 1978 I passed my bike test (it was quite easy because it was pissing down and the examiner decided 5 minutes was enough) I bought a Suzuki 250 Hustler. A month later I tore into the local petrol station, hit the brakes on a patch of oil and me and the bike slid through the forecourt and into the cars for sale at the far side. Bike written off, elbow's never been the same, only slight damage to the cars. My dad gave me his car. Never ridden a bike since. (I rolled his car 6 months later, but I've calmed down a bit since then) Should I get another bike?
Sounds very similar to me, SiS. Passed my test in farnborough in 1974 and was on my Home on my Suzi 250 when I overtook a guy towing a car on the A34 just north of Winchester. As I was between him and the car he was towing, he decided to overtake without looking in his mirror and put me into the central reservation (luckily before they installed barriers). I dropped the bike on the grass, broken wrist and ribs and punctured lung. After I got the bike fixed (and appeared in court as the police did him), my parents begged me to get a car and loaned me the money. Never went back on a bike, but really miss it some days .......
I did read somewhere that if you survive riding a bike for 20 years you are less likely to die later in life. Men having a mid-life crisis and buying a bike in their 40s or 50s are doomed at the first corner! I don't think I'll bother!
As you get older without dying you have a better chance of a long life whether you ride a bike or not. Someone aged 80 has a greater chance of reaching 90 than someone aged 20.
One day a blonde came home from school and came to her mother and said, “Hey, Mommy! Mommy! Today in school we learned to count. The other kids could only count to three but I can count to ten….. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!” The mother responds, “Very good honey.” The blonde asks, “Is that because I’m a blonde mommy?” And the mother responds, “Yes dear.” Next day the blonde came home and went to her mother and said, “Today in school we learned our ABCs! The other kids could only get to D but I can get to K! …. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K!” The mother says, “Very good honey.” The blonde then asked. “Is that because I’m a blonde, Mommy?” The mother responds, “Yes dear.” The third day the blonde come home from school and said to her mother, “Mommy today in school we went swimming! But I was the only one who had breasts. Is that because I’m a blonde, Mommy?” And the mother responds, “No Honey, it’s because you’re twenty five.”
Wildlife getting the upper hand against poachers for a change. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-43035474
Well, another budding Saints fan was born yesterday My daughter and her husband (both Saints fans) presented me with my first grandchild - Lucy Ellen, weighing in at a tiny 5.5 lbs, but I’ve bought her her first Saints shirt already (it’s a bit big!). Very proud, but feeling a tad old now everyone’s referring to me as “Granddad”
Congrats Dave. My Grandkids call me Grumpy, which is fairly accurate . Grandkids are great because you can spoil them, lead them astray, and then send em home again and miss any fallout
Looking forward to that! And I think “Grumpy” would be a good name - especially if I have to do as Fran suggests ....
