Once upon a time I was a biker. When I was between marriages, I rode, fell off and sold a succession of machinery. One of these (Kawasaki GT550):
and one of these (Yamaha XJ900):
eventually, having met Mrs The Millbrooker, together we bought one of these. A Honda CBR1000F - the famous Flying Fridge:
In those heady days, I liked little better than pottering around motorbike showrooms indulging in what the biker magazines called "shiny bike syndrome" - drooling over the shiny, expensive and strokable (oh yes, it is) machinery.
I'm not allowed to ride anymore, the police and the insurance companies get really twitchy about fellows with white canes being in charge of things like 150 horse power willy-compensators.
But only yesterday I indulged myself in some more shiny syndrome.
I'm lucky enough to own a beautiful, if slightly battle-scarred, Ovation Celebrity.
I haven't fallen off it yet, so it has no need of urgent replacement, but this doesn't mean I can't drool over potential and very expensive shiny successors.
In City Music in Truro yesterday they very kindly allowed me to get my paws all over a simply beautiful Taylor T5, a snip at £1880 second hand. Sorry about the greasy fingerprints, good people of Truro.
Hmmm - won't be getting one of those anytime soon, but I can but dream (just like I did over the Harley Davidsons, Triumph Rocket Threes and dirty great Beemers of yore).
And they let me get my hands all over the utterly beautiful hand built Tanglewood TSR1, slightly less eye watering at £1550. You might like to note that shiny guitar syndrome is considerably cheaper than shiny bike syndrome, although no closer to fiscal reality.
Having written all this nonsense, I get a feeling of deja-vu; I fear I might have bored the pants of you with this sort of thing before. Ah well, all I can say is that plinking on those two gits yesterday was heavenly - and one day, one day . . . .