motorcyclemeditation.com

London roads thick with annoyed traffic today, nothing new there, motorcycle overtaking about twenty cars at a time before pulling in for oncoming vehicles. This cycle repeating many times.

Coming up to some red traffic lights, stopping, the window of the adjacent car winding down, the driver a woman, smart, good diction, looking at me, just couldn’t wait in the queue like the rest of us could you.

This interjection so unexpected and incongruous as to make it difficult not to laugh. Managing to keep it to a courteous noncommittal smile, lights turning green, pulling away.

Thinking, well lady, the actual answer is, no, couldn’t wait in the queue like everybody else, in a city busting the jams is what you have a motorcycle for. You in your warm car and its onboard entertainment, all that comfort comes with a price, you can’t deal with the one thing you need to deal with, namely queues, well, you knew about the price, now it comes to paying it, don’t bleat.

Still, this exchange uncalled for, she wasn’t being unpleasant, her eye almost containing a twinkle, already knowing the answer, just egging on the response. Vocal and facial expression exactly replicating schoolteacher ennui when faced with errant schoolboy conduct, waiting for inevitable implausible excuses, finally, well don’t let it happen again. An ancient choreography.

Sitting on the motorcycle, projected straight back to early teenage years, goofing around in the schoolyard, looking for mischief, stirring up trouble. Behind the helmet visor, feeling the smile.

Suchlike rejuvenation being common when on a motorcycle. The same youngster freedom from everyday constraints, ability to do whatever you want. And especially, the impulse to dismiss authority’s blandishments. A healthgiving condition, generative of smiles.

The motorcycle making its way to some roadworks, source of all the delays. Gee, probably take her about an hour to get here, maybe I should go back, get her to park her car, offer her a lift.