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Lance Lambert

�The Vintage Vehicle Show�

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Ouch!

There�s an old motorcyclist clich� that there are two types of motorcycle riders; those that have crashed and those that will crash. Unfortunately I�m one of the former.

My 1960 Triumph 650 Bonneville was a very cool ride with its sprung chopper front end and high riser handlebars. It was everything decent folk feared and young women admired, or so I thought.

I�ve long been stricken with the dreaded social disease egoitis, a malady that causes young men to constantly remind others that the world revolves around them. I like to think that I�m a recovering egoitiseon but that has not always been the case. This disease caused my Triumph to go from a very good looking motorcycle to a not so good looking modern art sculpture.

I was driving down 6th Avenue, Tacoma�s north end cruising street, when I came upon three attractive young ladies in a 1966 Mustang convertible, top down of course. The car I mean. The sun was shining and my Triumph was running as well as any British built vehicle can, that is to say, it had not broken down yet that day. My egoitis suddenly overcame my immune system as I approached the babe filled convertible. I passed the Mustang, looked over at the bevy (can three of anything be a bevy?) of beauties and gave them my best �Ya, that�s right ladies, this stud on two wheels is your dream come true� look when, much to my dismay, a car in front of me had stopped. Everything went into slow motion as I crashed into the rear of the Rambler. I looked down and watched the motorcycle�s handlebar pass under me, then the car�s trunk, top and hood. It was like I had all the afternoon to enjoy the passing view before I returned my tray to the upright position and buckled my seat belt. Not so gracefully I made contact with the ground in a perfect three point landing; my head, elbow and knee. My knee injury was minor and only required a large band aide and a new pair of Levis. My elbow lost the majority of its freckled surface which, in the following weeks, returned but, strangely, didn�t replace the freckles during the recovery. My head was fine but my helmet was not; it looked like it had been hit with a huge piece of asphalt and at that moment I realized that, in fact, it had been hit with a huge piece of 6th Avenue. As the fog cleared I realized several things; my Triumph was a mess, I was an idiot, and worst of all, the three young ladies, kind enough to stop and make sure I was OK, were now laughing at this two wheeled stud. Not the reaction I had, only moments ago, hoped to elicit from them. None of them offered me their phone number.

In the following weeks I managed to scrounge up enough money to have the motorcycle fixed. I�m sure the guy that stole it a month later appreciated my efforts.

Program Note:

You can see the Vintage Vehicle show with Lance Lambert on 43 stations throughout the country, see your local listings for times and channels or go to: www.vintagevehicletv.com

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