A slightly blurry image, to be sure - but there again, I wasn't expecting to be stopped at the lights and have Dave, our next door neighbor, roar up beside, and past, me. He's a perfectly pleasant older man (by which I guess I mean about ten years older than us), but we rarely see him or his wife - though we hear him when he yells at their dachshund - "WILLIAM!" - when the poor dog isn't doing anything more offensive than barking at us. But he's not at all the type that one expects to see riding a motorbike, wearing shorts and flip flops, and with an orangey-yellow furry cover to his helmet. I can't decide whether this improbable head-piece - complete with little round ears - is meant to turn him into a teddy bear or P-22. Roar, roar.
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