The kids are allright
When I was 15 or so I fell in love with the Honda S90, I wanted one. It was affordable, unintimidating, had a top speed that matched the then maximum speed limit, or so they said. For my 15 year old self it represented freedom. In my daydreams I rode that S90 everywhere with my imaginary GF on the pillion. Life got in the way, I never did get that S90, my motorcycle career had to wait until I was 18, but the hook was set. Motorcycles had no interest for me BISH (Before I Saw the Honda). My Dad, who I listened to up till I was 15, had frequently pointed out that motorcycles were large, dangerous, noisy and ridden by thugs and criminals. I knew this was true, because all the bikers I saw were greasy, tattooed, scary individuals. The papers were filled with the antics of the BDRs (Black Diamond Riders), and their infamous president, Johnny Sombrero. Honda's genius was to suggest to people like my 15 year old self there was an alternative motorcycle lifestyle with their