It was in Rome, near the Chiesa del Gesu. Jennifer was in a housewares shop. Hundreds of lingerie shops in Rome, and she goes into housewares. So I'm outside, watching the street scene, and I hear a big-engined something coming down Vittorio Emanuele.

Jennifer came out at that moment and follows my gaze, and she too could hear the engine growling in a compression driven snarl, and then it came into view. A big bike, not the usual Vespa, coming way too fast. A male driver, spooned with a female in a skirt hiked to her hips so she could straddle the bike, her scarf trailing in the wind, working as one with the machine, smoothly moving in and out of traffic.

It brought back memories of another time and another place. In the sixties, I used to be a wild child; some would say a stupid child. I was into bikes, and Jennifer and I would ride all night. As the couple on the bike disappeared around the curving street and the sound faded, I asked "Do you remember...?" She said "Yes, you used to scare the hell out of me... and I loved every minute of it." "Any regrets?" I asked.

She answered by taking my hand, and we continued walking about Rome, the Eternal City, with me receiving a new understanding of "eternal."