Guido's
feast
You may have heard of a movie called Babette's Feast. It's personal significance
is that it's the first video I've ever ordered that didn't have motorcycles
in it. Apocalypse Now will be the second, eventually, though I'm hardly a rabid
movie buyer.
For those who are wondering what the hell I'm on about, don't feel embarrassed.
Babette's Feast, though an Oscar winner with a dedicated international following,
still teeters on the edge of obscurity in the greater scheme of things. This
is particularly so in English-speaking countries, which have to make do with
sub-titled versions.
The flick follows the adventures of Babette, a renowned French chef from the
late 1800s who, through a series of misadventures, ends up working as a maid
for a couple of elderly spinsters. The latter are part of a puritan community
living in a remote Danish coastal village.
Babette discovers that an old French lottery ticket has come good and delivers
her a substantial sum of money. Instead of tossing her apron over the heads
of the old dears and catching the first boat back to gay Paree, she makes the
bizarre decision to blow the lot on a meal to end all meals for leading members
of the local community. Its effect on the normally reserved Danes is aptly described
by one reviewer as "a gastronomic Armageddon".
As a former restaurant cook, I find the idea of spending a fortune to turn on
a killer meal for a group of people holds a great deal of appeal. However the
guest list is unlikely to include any puritans, Danish or otherwise.
Which raises the question, who would you invite to the ultimate motorcycle dinner?
There's a list of dead people who appeal, but they're terrible company and so
we'll have to restrict our choices to the living.
Someone who springs immediately to mind is Taru Rinni, the flying Finn -- remember
her? The only woman in recent memory to fight her way into the GP circus as
a rider, and survive the cauldron of 125 racing. Obviously a serious nutcase,
and someone whose presence would be balanced nicely by having battler Garry
McCoy along.
Though insanity isn't a prerequisite for an invitation, it is a distinct advantage.
Proof of this is the selection of the next three guests: Fritz Egli (of Egli
Racing), Friedl Munch (of the Munch Mammoth) and Ian Drysdale (of Drysdale Engineering).
There isn't time here to go through the history of all three, though a scan
of any motorcycle encyclopedia will provide a quick CV of the first two. You'll
be left wondering which mental institution they escaped from.
As for Drysdale, you can't help but admire someone who is a leading light of
the local sceptics society, while being responsible for a two-wheel-steer, two-wheel-drive,
bike and then turns around to make his own V-eight. All from a suburban backyard
shed.
Next up would be folk from the Motor Maids, ideally including founding president
Dot Robinson if she's still alive. Failing that, anyone recommended by current
secretary Ethel Voy would do just fine. Established in 1940, Motor Maids is
a motorcycle club formed for women riders in the USA. It carries the credo that
being a lady and riding a motorcycle are not mutually exclusive, and its members
are famous for their use of white riding gloves.
Some idea of the dedication the group inspires is that it had, until recently,
three Golden Life Members. To achieve that status, you must have been a member
of good repute for 50 years and have attended 10 national conferences. One of
the Golden girls dropped off the twig a few years ago, though she was still
riding at the age of 80.
Some local input would be covered by having Amanda Carter and Margaret Stewart
along -- read their interview in the current edition of Australian Rider and
you'll understand why.
Though he works with a rival mag (Two Wheels), I think the inclusion of Mr Smith
would be necessary along with a chap called Mole. They're about the same shape,
have a similar adoration for bikes and food, and would add considerable depth
to the conversation for the brief period either are likely to stay sober enough
to talk.
That the Lemmings MC would be invited goes without saying, and I reckon the
somewhat retiring John Bloor (founder of the Hinckley Triumph works) would be
worth having along. Come to thing of it, the effervescent Willie G Davidson
(of H-D) would make a nice counterpoint to the Englishman.
Of course the danger is that who you don't invite becomes a real problem, fraught
with politics and dented egos. So for the time being I'm going to chicken out
and leave the invitation list incomplete. And the menu? Food for a future column,
perhaps.
It's a sure way to get a debate going among riders: who you would invite the
ultimate motorcyclist's feast. Well, who's on your list?
Guy "Guido" Allen
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