There was a morning going on forty years ago when I was waiting at bus stop on Marine Drive for the bus that would get me home. I heard a British motorcycle with TT headers and shorty mufflers slowing down as the rider approached the intersection where the traffic light had just turned red.
It was obvious that he was heading off to work. He had a big nose and his lunchbox slung over his shoulder. It was you. You looked good and the Bonny looked great.
Happy birthday my old friend
The Old Man