We were ever so good doing what we should, stopped still at red traffic lights, and I was looking after hubby's camera. It was mine once, he likes getting my hand-me downs; cameras I mean. It helps that I know how to use the camera when the unexpected happens. I gazed out through the windscreen and to my astonishment I saw this sight crossing the road in front of us; I just had to get a shot of it: click.....
Peering at the camera screen I looked at the picture I had managed to get. Could that white mark on the rider's mouth be a dirty mark on the windscreen? Hoping upon hope it was not, I checked out the photo at a larger viewing on the computer screen. I saw more than I had bargained for.
Talk about being cavalier; not only had the rider got his helmet jauntily protecting the upright of his pillion seat, on his own head he wore a soft beanie hat, and had two cigarettes sticking out of his mouth. I wonder if he would have carried ten -a small packet number - in the same way?
This guy was from the 'grandad brigade' sailing close to the wind in his second youth, with no apparent care for the law of the land, including one law that requires motorcycle riders to wear helmets. There are one or two exemptions, such as for religious Sikhs who wear turbans. He was definitely not wearing a turban, not even under that beanie.
It set me thinking. Could the rider have been a more-or-less well-behaved law abiding youngster in his day, who, in his looming dotage was suffering a male menopause and breaking down his inhibitions, or, was he a tearaway youth in his time who had become an immature hedonistic adult, still testing the boundaries.
Perhaps, away from all the macho shiny machinery, the guy might be an upstanding compliant member of the community, and as soft as a lamb.