Random reminder

Press, 13 June 1984, Page 37

Random reminder

LEGLESS

Seventy years ago: Counsel bewigged and bego'wned. Dark stained beams sharp against the roof. The Judge stern and aloof. A heinous crime: DICB — Drunk in Charge of a Bicycle. More exactly, of a carriage. The Act said "carriage.” The Law had to prove one to be the other. Or otherwise this monster of depravity would be let loose on the motoring public. And this would be Most Serious. The Prosecution waxed eloquent. The Defence then opened. Creaking from my learned friend as he slowly rose to his feet. Immersed beneath his horse hair canopy this lion of the law intoned: “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do . . .” The popular song rumbled up into the rafters. Eventually, silence. The ditty clearly showed a bicycle to be other than a carriage. Counsel sat down. His Honour was not blessed by sense of humour. The Defendant was convicted. Which is largely irrelevant. Except, seventy years on, bicycle and drink once

more unite. In these radar-suffused days of the present he now takes his bike to the RSA for the Friday snort. He parks outside andd heads for the hops. His steed is of age indeterminate. Only a museum (or Ferrymead) would even consider taking it. And they would ask first. But no other being has ever cast a suspicious glance in its direction, let alone soiled its dignity by petty conversion. Yet, this time, catastrophe. He sidestepped out the door. Marched up to his mount and snapped to noisy attention. Horror! Calamity! Zut alors! What had happened? The bike remained. It has not been moved. But far far worse a crime had been perpetrated. Some dastardly wretch had made off with his bike clips, slid them off the bar and on to their snivelling ankles. Was there no limit? In future those clips will be firmly anchored to that bicycle. Got it? (May your trousers turn to spinach!)