Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Motorbike Backrider


Carless and often cashless, our only means of transportation in the 1970’s was John’s 350cc Honda motorcycle, a gift from his father. It was a cozy way to be riding together, with my arms around him for safety.

Riding the motorcycle was the way we picked up and delivered work. During those days, there were no personal computers (no “Powerpoint” or “Keynote”), and slides for audiovisual presentations were made from photographing handmade artworks drawn on 30”x40” illustration boards. If available, words were made with the use of letter transfers (“Letrasets”) and if not, they were created by skillfully airbrushing them on the boards. The boards are carefully wrapped because the colored inks used on them were attractive to roaches.

Since all we had was a 35mm Nikkormat with a 43-86mm zoom lens, most of our jobs were doing these slides. We would pick up the boards from the ad agency and bring them to our studio to shoot.

John would get up on his motorcycle and I would then gingerly mount the motorbike behind him with the wrapped illustration boards between us, leaving me with no way to wrap my arms around John or to hold on to any part of his big bike.  As long as we were not riding over speed bumps or potholes, we were fine, but John would continue to show his concern for me by saying, “Talk to me and keep talking, so I’ll know that you’re still there.”

Wasn’t that sweet? ;)

2 comments:

Loybuckz said...

That was very sweet madame. Thank you for sharing.

Tonet said...

“Talk to me and keep talking, so I’ll know that you’re still there.

Talk to me and keep talking, so I know I haven't lost you yet. To an illness, a more exciting life, a more exciting person.

Talk to me and keep on talking, so I know you are still supporting me with you thoughts, your suggestions, your contributions to my passions.

Keep on talking, because I sometimes don't listen, and you need to be there most especially when I don't listen.

You've read Hemingway's short stories, have you, Harvey? You write like him. Short sentences. Incomplete. Fragments of thoughts. Unforgettable.

I love your writing. Tell John he and I are the luckiest men in the world, because we both have the same kind of partners.