We were quiet. He then turned the water blue eyes to me and said "Motorcycles have been my life since flying Corsairs in WWII. Nothing in civilian life can match the thrill. When my daugter decided to marry a young man with the same interests as myself, it just made sense". "I actually liked the boy and he even had the balls to ask for her hand in marriage. The problem is that I told him that he would never have my permission to let my daughter on his Triumph. The english made great engines but their electrical systems always had problems. On the Friday before their wedding day on the 21st day of May in 1968, they went out to get a beer or two at the local tavern. On the way back, he was driving as spirited I would have but the Lucas diode gave out. No lights no hope. He is still alive but paralized and cannot speak to this day. 90 days in a coma, but we got 'em back. I lost my one and only daughter that day. Every now and again someone just like you barrels in with the same story. In just the 10 minutes you met her you fell in love. Just think how I feel".
I was in total shock. Well, sure as **** he noticed I was shivering. His face softened just a bit and he said "boy, your jacket will be in the Englewood graveyard draped over my daughters tombstone. She's never brought a man to me on british bike ever again and the new guys she's brought my way have always become my friend".