Oh what's the use?! I can't write this story--heck, I was only 13 years old, and thought my brother's Bronco 50 was the height of trickness. In those days, the main concern, frankly, was, er, satisfaction. I couldn't get no, probably because I was about 4-foot-2 and 39 pounds with acne and a stutter. (Really, I haven't changed much.) I had about as much chance of getting my grubby paws on a shiny new Z1 as I did of getting my grubby paws on Tracy Coleman the prom queen, which is not to say that certain fantasies weren't entertained about both. All right, I'm lying. Z1 Kawasakis never entered my imagination until a while later.