When I was a tyke, that is, about twenty four or five, someone was decapitated at the low end of Gayley in Westwood on a (l'ambretta? probably spelled wrong). I worked with a bunch of smartie mds, including an orthopod who used to be a halfback, or something like that, who railed against those damned things. I'm mixed, in that I have a natural liking for speed and speed maneuvers, and a good respect for the consequenses of accidents. And I've a natural liking for easy vehicles which, erm, putt putt around. I figure they should not encounter each other.