I wasn’t allowed one. It wasn’t a sensible choice. I knew that. I’m not sure if I even asked or pleaded or begged in the usual “I want, I want, I want, I want…” way that kids have perfected (I’ve tried similar techniques recently as I want to get a new car… the reaction from my wife is… well it isn’t the one I wanted. I digress.)

So here I am. A thirty-something with disposable income. So imagine my elation this morning when I read in the paper that: “Classic Chopper makes a comeback”

At last. I can own the bike that was cooler than cool. Although there are a couple of potential disappointments that I’ve already spotted. Firstly the seat is now ‘split’ so no more banana seat which I’m presuming will mean that you can’t set the seat waaay back and have the handlebars set low like a bad boy Harley Davidson (Did I really think like this when I was 12?). Secondly, where are the gears? One of the coolest things was having that ‘car-like’ gear stick in the middle of the frame. Without that, well, it’s just a bike…

And yes, I know I will look utterly ridiculous riding a Chopper aged 30, with beer belly, bald spot and all. But I might not care.

I’m off to phone the wife… “But I reeealllly want one, I want, I want, I want….”