MOPED MADNESS

There are several humanistic activities that would be considered by the more traditional amongst us as complete insanity – like trying to make money offfeaturing Pat Buchanan in a kissing booth, or pinning a poster of an oiled up Demis Roussos wearing nothing but pink hot-pants on the ceiling above your bed.How about jumping into the shark tank at Seaworld with a prime cut of seal blubber tied around your neck and a collection of fish heads around your waist?All acts of downright derangement, right?

Then of course, there is that one act which can only be described as undiminished dementia where you slide right by lunacy and end up where Frank Giffordsleeps. I’m referring to hiring a moped.

For the uninitiated, a moped is a small motorcycle-like conveyance designed specifically for falling off or for slamming into the rear of a parked Greyhound bus.They are mechanical disasters looking for somewhere to happen and along with drivers who wear Panama hats and cars displaying Christian fish symbols,should be banned from our roads completely. Then again, there is the argument that there’s nothing wrong with mopeds, it’s just the people who ride them.

Let’s face it, mopeds are majorly uncool. They have all the refined styling one would associate with garments hanging in Courtney Love’s closet, or somethingthat rolled off the Plymouth assembly line during 1951, and are obviously designed for people who have the physical dimensions of a garden gnome who justhappen to enjoy getting high on sniffing 2 stroke fuel.

These two-wheel modes of misadventure are powered by a 50cc engine, (the same engine that runs food processors) and goes just fast enough that when youultimately crash, you won’t be killed just horribly disfigured. Just take a look at Joan Rivers – obviously the victim of a very serious moped accident.

For some inexplicable reason, people who holiday in tourist hot spots, (those same constituents of humanity who possess an outstanding collection of mentaldiseases) have this demented desire to voluntarily rent one of these mobile meat mincers. You may as well just lay down in traffic and call yourself a speedhump– at least this way, you’ll save yourself the rental fee.

It’s true loyal readers, I have strip mined my brain leaving it with gaping canyons of blank thought trying to figure why anyone would deliberately bring this muchpotential trial and tribulation into their lives. A scenario as baffling as why garbage trucks all over the world have squeaky brakes.

In a recent scientific study, moped riders won a narrow margin of victory over kumquats in an IQ test which in turn just edged out Jerry Springer’s guest list forthis summer. So as you can see, trying to figure out reasons would be futile.

I sadly have first hand knowledge of this insanity as a friend of mine was the victim of a rather nasty accident. It was many years ago in a moment of madnesswhen he decided to rent a moped and cruise the beachfront tourist strip trolling for scantily dressed women.

It didn’t take long before a tanned skinned beauty wearing nothing but a thong and a smile distracted him completely. Needless to say, he bounced off the sideof a tourist bus, clipped a taxi, slammed into a parked car before bouncing down the road like Newt Gingrich’s perfectly round head had been under-armed bythe pitcher for the United States softball team. As my friend’s gore smeared torso came to rest in a roadside gutter, a kid ran over his skull with a skateboard.Now during dinner parties, he proudly announces that the plate the hors d’oeuvres are served on matches the one in his head.

It’s a sad fact and no secret that most of these ‘for hire’ machines are not exactly kept in a state of good roadworthy condition. Some of them were built beforethe invention of the wheel which will give you some idea on how they handle. And because of the non existent maintenance, the owners of these rental firms,(those who proudly demonstrate a wide moral cowardice) walk away with more cash than a Miami laundry operated by Colombian Drug Lords.

This aside, there are more mopeds on the Gold Coast than cellulite dimples on Camryn Manheim’s butt. They move in haunting hordes around our fair citycausing nothing but mass inconvenience to the population at large.

One must constantly keep an alert vigil as these satanic carriages of cataclysmic catastrophe weave dangerously in and out of traffic, horns beeping madly,riders laughing with demonic intent – which by the way negates the moral issue of whether or not to run them off the road and into a handy canal.

If we remain very quiet, we might just be able to hear the sound of shattering metal and glass, cracking bone and rupturing cartilage, because in this town, thehills are alive with the sounds of carnage.

Yes it’s true, mopeds and their riders are damn annoying – even more so than that irritating guy at parties who insists on playing the guitar and the only tune heknows is ‘Tom Dooley’. Who ever invented these contraptions should be hunted down and made to live in Adelaide for ten or so years before being subjectedto around-the-clock reruns of ‘Punky Brewster’.

It’s because of these ridiculous mopeds that tourist season on the Gold Coast is about as appealing as something that would live in Liam Gallagher’s colon, orthrive amongst Tommy Lee’s pubic hair. In fear of these high-revving beasties, frightened locals have to spend the holidays indoors which makes life as tediousas a Vonda Shepard cover version.

I propose that a bounty be placed on the head of erratic moped riders. The state government would be justified in paying $50 for every moped rider pelt. Iwould then volunteer my services as a co-ordinator for hunting parties and of course making sure that there was enough beer. Because let’s face it, alcohol andhigh-powered firearms go together like infuriating people and the utterance, "Are we having fun yet?" Then again, the problem may be as easy as stringing upsome fishing line between two trees.

I’m sure those of you who live in a tourist town can sympathize with the moped dilemma and if you can’t, you’re probably one of those who actually hiremopeds when on holidays – and if you are a potential moped rider and plan to take your vacation on the Gold Coast, then watch out for a white ’89 Fordbecause I have you in my cross-hairs.

Copyright: Cameron Koo, June 2000