Hank’s been having a wee midlife crisis.
He’s having a tougher time getting around lately: his get-up-and-go has been running a bit rusty and boy, do his dogs get tired. How did this happen? And when? What’s a fellow to do when the years catch up all at once and insist on giving him wedgies?
Well, there’s always the old standby for men of a certain age:
The sports car. The shiny, new red sports car.
Little red Corvette?
Things seemed to be heading in that direction until Hank’s Very Favorite Person (always the voice of reason) gave him four words to chew on: cliché, insurance, speeding tickets.
Back to the drawing board.
Now, it’s no secret that Hank’s always hankered for a convertible. Wind through the ears, freedom of the road, the need for speed…you know da kine, McQueen.
Or….a motorcycle. Hank’s yearly birthday wish. Hank’s taste run towards the classics, so an old Triumph Bonneville TR6 would be right up his alley. Or maybe that 1952 Vincent Black Lightning? An old Indian would be super cool, come to think of it…ooh:
Or maybe that Norton Commando he fancies…
Heck, Hank would settle for a Ural with a sidecar.
Oh, life as a sidecar dog. SaaaawEEEeet!
But Hank has a scooter-sized budget, so these options weren’t looking good. In fact, it was looking grim.
For some time now, Hank’s considered bringing draft horses back to Ballard. Heck yeah! Hank thought about it some more, looked at his piggybank and then again at his back forty and sadly came to this conclusion: he’s a bit old and his backyard’s a bit small for Budweiser and Clydesdales.
Plus, well, laws.
So what-oh-what could get Hank back in the saddle without actually getting his old bones back in a saddle?
To be fair, this little number is a bit more Buick than Bitchin’ Camaro and it doesn’t go zero-to-sixty in any number of seconds, but it suits Hank’s piggybank. And it came with a driver.
First stop, sir: Mr. McGregor’s tomato patch. How Hank has missed these delicious, lovingly raised, sun-kissed heirlooms.
Next stop (and let’s make it snappy before Mr. McGregor comes home): a cool drink with old friends.
Now off to Ballard and Backfire Moto to ponder his next set of wheels…
…as another dive bar bites the dust in Seattle.
You complete me.
Two wheels or four, Hank’s pretty stoked that his new Buick looks a bit like The Saltire. And like him, it’s slow but steady-going. Maybe a little goofy at times. But old and wise.
Old and wise-ish.
Whatever it is, this is for sure: watch out world, Hank’s on the road again!
We look to Scotland for all our ideas of civilization.