Regular contributor Stephen Midgley has taken up his pen once more. This time, perhaps inspired by certain lines in praise of local shopkeepers, he has written a paean to Ducati Glasgow – purveyors of motorbikes to the inhabitants Scotland’s second grandest city. Whether they choose to reward the poet with an example of their wares remains to be seen…
Lines in Praise of Ducati Glasgow
’Twas in the year 2002, and on June the twenty-nine,
A day which Scotland’s bikers will remember for a very long time,
That Ducati Glasgow opened its doors with great ceremony
To display the finest motorcycles which are made in Italy.
For at that time there was no Ducati dealer in the region,
The city of Glasgow, land of Taggart and of brave John Smeaton,
And fans of the Italian brand were in great dismay and sorrow
Because for their bikes and servicing they must go to Edinboro’.
For Ducatis are fine motorbikes, and beautiful to see,
Oh! so splendid to be ridden and of highest quality;
There are the Hypermotard, the Diavel and the Monster,
And riding the Multistrada will also bring great rapture,
And the Superbikes, eleven-ninety-eight, nine-one-six and seven-four-nine,
And especially the Panigale which is exceeding fine.
So if you are considering to replace your ancient steed
With an Italian two-wheeled motorised velocipede,
Then get thee along without delay to the Great Western Road,
Where you can see all these Ducatis so magnificent to behold.
And if to Ducati Glasgow you should come on a two-wheeler,
You can park it in the street outside the front door of the dealer;
But if instead you come by car, then park it in the alley,
And enter by the back passage for to view the Panigale.
As soon as you go into the shop, you will see straight away
The many awards, such as Dealer of the Year, which are on display,
For customers their praises to the skies have often lauded,
Though, sad to say, some other bike shops long ago their windows boarded.
The staff of this emporium are as welcoming as can be,
And they soon will make you feel at home with a cup of good coffee;
Martin Rees is the man in charge, and the chief salesman is Blair,
And they are both very helpful and most expert, I do declare,
For whether you are young or old, skinny or a fatty
They will soon find the right bike for you, preferably a red Ducati.
But if you are no millionaire by some sad mischance,
To ride the Ducati of your dreams you may well need finance,
So you should have a chat about this with business manager Kerrie,
And after that your heart will soon be cheerful, gay and merry,
For not only is the fair Kerrie most beautiful to be seen
But she can arrange easy payments for you, even if you’re very mean.
And then there are the workshop boys, George and Craig and Charlie,
Who’ll do a great job on your bike, even if ’twas running poorly,
And Harry is the parts manager, who’ll obtain without dismay
Anything you need, whether ’tis a fairing or can of spray.
Indeed they are good people all, such as service driver Robin,
And I must mention Mrs Rees, who keeps the place so clean,
Which you will notice the minute that you step in through the door,
For you could gladly eat your luncheon off the showroom floor.
And then there’s Vincent the “Ducati dog”, a boxer is his breed,
Who is so gentle and friendly that he doesn’t need to be on a lead.
But I pray ye riders, once you have your bike, be advised by me,
Take care when you open the throttle of your nice new Ducati,
For you would be most sensible to be extremely wary
Lest your collar soon be felt by the Strathclyde constabulary,
Who care not whether you are on a moped or a Panigale.
So when you ride off up the A-eighty-two on your Ducati
Heading for a day out amid Scotland’s splendid scenery,
Of Strathclyde’s eagle-eyed finest you must take especial heed
Lest you travel the Queen’s highway at an excessive speed;
Or else you could get points upon your licence and a fine,
Which will be remember’d by your insurers for a very long time.
So, ye bikers, do not think for to exceed the ton,
At least until you’re well and truly clear of Dumbarton.