Pro Street Wheelie Tips.

E 'a Bruce Willis

In my village, having matusalemmiana average age of citizens, there are several homes. In spring and summer, the elderly survivors are brought to the rigidity of the winter to get some 'outdoor air, which otherwise always stay closed and then stink of old. It so happens that under the arches you come across a parade of carriages, so many that they should devote a special course, a kind of cycle. A paved road say. Otherwise you may be walking slicing the big toe from the wheel of a wheelchair or worse still be a foul in the leg stretched by a grandparent darting feet forward on a wheelchair pushed by a powerful Romanian caregiver. An accident quite painful because it comes to knee high and leaves no way in the joints. With that risk in the next round when we find ourselves in our turn to dart under the arcades, driven by the remarkable power of mighty Romanian carers and in turn cause accidents in an eternal cycle of legs outstretched, lynchings and wheelchairs schizophrenic.

After this trip, the park attendants usually a wheelchair in the central square in the shadow of a plant, all lined up and oriented in the direction of the state. So the old can see the exciting spectacle of passing cars to the valley.

If you happen to walk that road, we are all 'sti old line that they look at you, plus with great interest, as if I were passing the statue of the Macarena in an Easter procession in Madrid.

But what is so interesting to see the main road through the village? Apart from some moments of excitement due to the passage of an ambulance, fire engine or a funeral procession that break the monotony of the hustle and bustle of cars .

Then yesterday I found out what they view. I was walking under the arcades when I heard the sound of a fighter jet taking off. Then I sat on a bench vicino agli altri anziani a guardare. C'era una Panda che stava facendo manovra per uscire dal parcheggio. Era guidata da un vecchietto col cappello che teneva l'acceleratore a tavoletta mentre lavorava giù di frizione. Il motore era tenuto a un numero così alto di giri che nemmeno Mark Webber con la Redbull in partenza per GP. La Panda soffriva e vibrava tutta: sembrava stesse per esplodere. Ho pensato che se per caso gli fosse scappato il piede dalla frizione, la Panda si sarebbe improvvisamente fiondata in avanti a velocità smodata e avrebbe viaggiato nel tempo come la De Lorean di Ritorno al Futuro. O avrebbe comunque deformato lo spazio-tempo circostante.

E fu in quel momento che compresi. 

'Sti barbogi do it every day this experiment: all line up there with their prams while the Panda - De Lorean, driven by an accomplice, after a roll on the runway, splashing ipergalattica speed along the highway trying to change the space time to rejuvenate and suddenly the old man ...

A diabolical plan!

(or one of my strong sunlight).