After a weekend of speed

  
Brother I was there in the 80s when Kylie and Danni Minogue wrote sisters are doing it for themselves. Man, in the 70s, I had an aunty who knew how to drive. Dr. Behoovinig needs no lessons about womens lib. But if you’re out there marching in pink, or having anything whatsoever to do with cycle chic rides, I do have a lesson for you: those sisters don’t like dudes spoiling their photos. When they pretty themselves up for ladies days out, be that with bikes or with banners, they seriously don’t want you around. It’s okay for Hugh Hefner, he pays women for the pleasure of being outnumbered. Unless you have his money, you’ll have to win their affection the way all of us must, by going fast.

That is why Saturday past, I took my boys for an intensive days training. For without that hunger for speed, how will they attract the next generation of women they will need to carry my name into the future? I had a vague recollection of a little fun park, where the water slides are fluffy with fiberglass fibers, bleached by the sun, but still holding water; where the attendants are paid not in dollars, but with goes on the go-carts, where they stay open at this time of year just in case one family comes through the door. This weekend, it was the Behoovings. 

Thank you son 2, for steering while I slept for 500 laps in the go-carts. Thank you son 1, for not mentioning the "life ban" that is technically still in effect since I managed to roll one of their dune buggies  in 1988. But son 2, on reflection, that train ride, merry-go-round and pedal boat ride, might have been a little too "chic", if you know what I mean. I won’t tell your girlfriends when you are older.
Next weekend the Behooving boys plan to step it all up some, bicycle style, with some of this, this and this.

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