DEAR MANUFACTURERS
I love you guys. I really do.
You’ve been feeding my addiction to ridiculous motorcycles for more than three decades.
Your products have allowed me to experience the full gamut of human emotion – from murderous black despair, to a joy so intense I am sure I must have sprouted extra glee-glands to deal with it.
I have grown very close to much of your two-wheeled merchandise, some of which, admittedly, has scared the steaming tripe out of me – but that’s probably got more to do with my dumbness than anything specific you might have haphazardly cobbled together.
We won’t of course speak of those frightful disintegrating Campagnolo wheels (yeah, like you really needed to make them Ducatis any more terrifying), and it’s probably best to simply forget those other wheels; the ones with the disintegrating rivets. Comstars, I believe they were called, which single-handedly redefined the notion that Hondas were boring.
I have moved on from that, and I trust you all have too.
What I would like to bring to your attention are some issues I feel you really need to address in order for our relationship to continue to blossom.
Firstly, I would like to let you know, in case you weren’t aware (and I have quite selflessly allowed for this possibility because I know you are all frightfully busy and distracted by things like turning a profit), that lighting technology has really advanced quite a lot in recent times.
How do I know this? Well, having been mesmerised by the wonderful white headlights I see on cars these days, I have come to understand that the somewhat indifferent lumen-generators you put on your bikes, are, if I am being kind, rather ordinary. Yes, yes, I do understand that there are legions of motorcycle owners who simply do not ride at night. There are, after all, vampires about. And werewolves. And quite possibly goblins.
But some of us do venture out when the sun sets, and we would really like to be able to see where we are going.
We would also like to be able to identify and record, for scientific purposes, any errant wildlife that might dart across our paths. And I’m of the view that the headlights you provide are not quite up to the task. Do you have any idea how many spotted eastern grey kangaroos I have probably confused with striped western light grey kangaroos?
Now don’t tell me I’m being unreasonable.
If I see two headlights on a bike, it is quite reasonable to expect both of them to be on at low beam, and certainly, when I switch to high-beam, it is not unreasonable to expect a furious death-beam of splendid illumination to spring forth. What’s with this one-headlight-out-of-two-on-lowbeam nonsense? I see two. I paid for two. Two should be on.
Would it kill you to address this? Seriously? Would it?
Just about every new car has these altogether marvellous LED and HID headlights. I can see the bastards coming from a billion miles away. They, of course, cannot see me – and even if I were to mount an anti-aircraft searchlight to my head this paradigm would not change. I get that.
But help me out here. Just a little. The longer your products conspire to assist in keeping me alive, the more of your product I will buy. You know that. It’s just good business sense to indulge me in this.
On the subject of my continued existence, I would also like you to address the always-neglected horn issue.
Put simply, that polite little “eeeeep” noise that leaks out of your products is quite insulting.
I wear an open-face helmet, and the Road Gods have blessed me with a loud voice, so I can usually make myself heard to the partially blind and almost-wholly deaf imbeciles texting their way along our roads in their mobile loungerooms and offices. But spare a thought for those poor, muffled full-face wearers. Please. It is for them that I seek this and not for me.
Yes, I know I can fit a Stebel Nautilus to my bike and melt the ear-drums of the car-fools. But why should it be incumbent upon me to do so? I already have to replace the exhausts and shocks on most of your wonderful products, so I do not think I am being overly demanding to ask that you affix a noise-making device to your motorcycles that actually makes noise – noise that can and must be heard over the stereos and sexy GPS voices, and inside a sound-proof cabin inhabited by a congenital idiot.
If this is beyond you, then at least give me something loud enough to fill the lycra bodysuits of those pedalling knob-blankets with their terrified bowel motions.
As always, please be assured of my continued love and support for you, your endeavours and life-affirming two-wheeled products.
And if you could see your way clear to address these small and quite simple requests, it could pave the way for the forward-facing machine gun I’d really like to see on the new Gixxers.
About the Author
Boris is a writer who has contributed to many magazines and websites over the years, edited a couple of those things as well, and written a few books. But his most important contribution is pissing people off. He feels this is his calling in life and something he takes seriously. He also enjoys whiskey, whisky and the way girls dance on tables. And riding motorcycles. He's pretty keen on that, too.
