I am not now, nor have I ever been a Luddite. There’s nothing wrong with old and simple. Take me for instance, or my 75 Yamaha RD350B. But fresh technology is a beautiful thing when it works. There’s a 46-inch flat-screen television bolted to my living room wall, where a Roomba robot is presently vacuuming the carpet. By the time you read this, a 3.6GHz Intel Core i3-equipped Mac will have superceded the 1.8GHz pooch on my desk. Still, sometimes it feels like I missed my exit on this metaphorical freeway of accelerating technology. I’m all for acceleration, technological and otherwise, as long as it’s vaguely rational, fiscally responsible and potentially justifiable. Otherwise, somebody is liable to pull the plug. Looking out on the expanse of test bikes currently at my disposal, at least six could cover the 79.4 miles between Motorcyclist’s garage and mine in less than half my 90-minute average. There are at least six more in the nearest dealership that could do the same if I were willing to take on an extra $15,000 in red ink. It could happen today, but it won’t. That sort of thing can and eventually will make a guy unpopular, and eventually irrelevant with people in a position to pull said plug, like American Express, the California Highway Patrol and/or Department of Motor Vehicles, my boss, my wife and our friendly neighborhood insurance agent. I like that sort of social relevance enough to make the concessions necessary to keep it, like keeping my average velocity within sight of enforceable limits, saving enough to pay cash for that next new motorcycle and putting altruism ahead of egotism when and where I can. But if I hold the latest residents of most dealerships to that same standard, or look at them the way more objective members of polite society might, that sort of relevance is hard to find.