|1989 Ford Mustang GT convertible|
I’ve mentioned before that strange, short period in my life during which I was a professional actor, driving a convertible Ford Mustang and going out a model. No, really. That was my life. In the mid-90s I was living the dream. Not necessarily my dream, mind you. In fact, I wasn’t very happy with any of it.
I drove the hell out of it –– Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Nebraska, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, California. I lived in that truck for days at a time. She took me everywhere I needed to go, everywhere I wanted to go. She survived several girlfriends, one of whom accused me of loving the truck more than her. Which was true.
I suppose that’s not too surprising. On this blog I’ve sung the praises of the CB500X and the NC700X, as well as lamented the absence of the the CTX700 from the UK market. And in my mind, every bike I consider finds itself being compared with the CBF600 (on which I took my Direct Access), regardless of whether the comparison is fair. Hell, I have even found myself daydreaming about getting a Deauville.
|I fear I may let you down, Chris.|
Hondas are good bikes, there’s no denying that. But they don’t look very cool. Even the new CB1100 –– though it’s certainly a step in the right direction. Hondas don’t growl. They are not the type of bike that induces that fire-engine reaction in non-motorcycling males (2). Hondas are not cool. They are not badass. They struggle to meet the Chris Jericho test.
But then I think to myself: they’re reliable as hell. For the same price as a Triumph of questionable age you can have a Honda from the past seven years or so that has ABS, lower insurance premiums, and higher mpg.
I’m not Chris Jericho; I’ve never even attempted a moonsault. I suppose I’m more of a Lance Storm guy.
Lance Storm is one of Jericho’s best friends. The two trained at the same school in Canada and moved up through the ranks together until the strength of Jericho’s character really started shining through in WCW (3). By all accounts, including that of Jericho, Lance is the better technical wrestler. He built a reputation as being stalwart, capable of always producing a solid match. But he never had the flash or character that makes a pro wrestler great. He wasn’t cool; but he was reliable as hell.
My Sonoma wasn’t cool, but it was reliable as hell. Maybe, in its own way, reliable is cool. Especially where a new rider is concerned. I want a bike that starts every time, a bike I can ride and ride and ride, a bike that won’t sap me of my almost negative funds. So, maybe what I really want is a Honda.
(1) Maybe. The definition of “cool” is nebulous. My best friend drove an enormous 1974 Mercury Marquis. In it’s own way, that car was infinitely cooler than my Mustang.
(2) My wife has correctly identified the fact that every man wishes he had a motorcycle. For those without a bike (and that includes me these days) they are left to stare: jumping up and turning their head when one goes by, just as when they were kids and fire engines would zip past.
(3) Chris Jericho is my favourite wrestler. I met him once and I still count that as one of the best days of my life. So, obviously, I know a hell of a lot about the guy. Sorry to bore you.