Old men, new engines

Auto Motor Klassiek » Column » Old men, new engines
Purchasing classics there

The ex-neighbor of two houses later came to visit his ex-wife. They are still on speaking terms. Kind of. In the context of his new relationship, Ex-Neighbor is completely the young God of a quarter of a century ago, both mentally and physically. At least: In the depths of his thoughts. Thanks to Willem Kloos (1859-1938). This manifests itself in gym attendance, trendy clothes and youthful behavior.

Never make such a mockery for your species

But there was more than the newfound look. There was the recent purchase of the Ultimate Tourmastodon that he never dared to buy during his previous marriage, because his then-to-be ex was too sensible for that. An ex-neighbor came to his ex for a show off. An older one alfa male with a starting ponytail.

His two-wheeled battleship was now on the doorstep in front of the house. The neighborhood's appearance increased by seven net Funda points. After his ex family visit, he came out dressed stylishly and made preparations to leave the quay with his steamship. The traded-in wife started waving him goodbye.

The neighbor from diagonally across the street and I stood as motorcyclists of the lesser type with admiration while sailing. The ex-neighbor installed his GPS, did some fine tuning of his audio system, arranged his Bluetooth connections. Looking seriously, he clicked the lanyard of his ballooned jacket onto his machine. Then he started the engine, put on his helmet. Routinely yet impressively, he thrust the fingers in V shape between each other to position his gloves to perfection.

The knight on his steed. Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry. A little Lambic too. He released the clutch and smoothly, almost liquid, the engine and its owner rolled over the sidewalk. He headed in a flat diagonal to the curb at a walking pace. The front wheel took the diagonally cut step. The steering wheel knocked him out of his hands and with a 0,39 km / h the mate hit the asphalt.

He got the engine on top of him, and before he had let out his first cry of pain, his air-bagged vest had inflated with a somewhat angry thud. His fluorescent green vest was bulging like Olivier B. Bommel. The two of us lifted the Motorosaurus Rex from its prey. Those modern motorcycles are big and heavy. Ex-Neighbor had taken the blow nicely. The ex-neighbor remained groaning. His right leg looked like it could hinge the other way just below the knee. A useful idea in itself.

At that time, his ex had awakened from her physical paralysis and came out again. She still wriggled her hands. But when she looked at her crying ex I saw a very careful grin around the corners of her mouth.  

If you ride a motorcycle for your ego instead of for pleasure, you are shorting yourself.

If you trade in your wife for a younger one, you're cheating yourself.

And classic motorcycles are simply more fun than new ones. And less heavy.

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4 comments

  1. A Alfa ponytailed male, and the smirk on the Ex's mouth caps!
    It doesn't get any nicer.
    The "Dolf" pieces are so beautifully written.
    If you read these kinds of articles you even forget that we are in a Pandemic.
    Thanks All

    • Thank you. At that time he was unable to put the bag into perspective. And I have more problems with my current Guzzi than I suffer from the Corona jitters. But my smoking cough makes shopping a joy! Tilt kewl!

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