In
1969, a young lad (i.e. my age, back then) I had met in improvised motorcycle outings was trying to become a motorcycle dealer, in a remote (seen from Geneva) part of Switzerland. Suzuki had just offered him a second-level dealer status, on a trial basis. He traded my aging BSA Spitfire in and sold me a brand new Suzuki 500cc 2-stroke "Titan", his first ever sale of a new bike. Then, we totally lost sight of each other. I moved back to the US of A where I had been raised, then I got transferred to Italy for 11 years, etc.
Then, a couple of monts ago, I accidentally met an old, faithful, local biker. We compared birth dates, bike ownership notes, medical prescriptions, etc. He mentioned that long-forgotten lad's name. Still alive, he said. Actually owner of the HD dealership in the same remote Swiss county. I sent the lad an e:mail. Title was
"37 years later..." . To which he responded. Yes, he remembered me, etc.
The moving part of the story is that the lad has since decided to retire. He has produced a splendid and nostalgic 4-page "good-bye" leaflet for his customers, including, of course , an undisguised invitation to some serious drinking (we ARE Swiss, after all...). And in there, on that leaflet, the ONLY customer quote is mine:
"37 years later"
Jamie