Underblog Rides Again

My Little Bloo Scoot

by Jennifer Robin

Welcome to Girls Gone Motorcycling Week at USA. Today, we are honored to have reknowned singer-songwriter, animal-purse designer-sewer, and scholarship-winning graphical-design talent Jennifer Robin share the inspirational tale of a motorized two wheel love affair.

When I think back about my bright blue Vespa Ciao, a flood of great memories washes over me. It was by far the most carefree period in my life. I was about 22 and lived in Santa Barbara California. My mo-ped was my only means of transportation for several years. Beautiful Santa Barbara was the perfect little city to scoot in. Uncrowded, gorgeous weather, you name it.

It was about 1979 and I was a budding musician and living in a tiny cottage that was one of six and paid only $212 a month rent. I would park my Ciao just outside the front door and to the left of the little covered porch. When it rained I would push (let's call her Bloo), up the three steps onto the porch where it would just fit. I remember many a rainy night getting up out of bed and racing outside across my 10 feet of cottage to get Bloo up and out of the rain. I was very protective of her. During that same period I was designing and making purses and backpacks in the shapes of animals called Jennifer's Jungle™. I sold them in galleries. I would ride all over town on Bloo with a Puppy Pack on my back, ears flapping in the wind. Like I said this was a very carefree time. I would also make bagel runs on her. I was totally into lentil soup and bagels and there was a great New York style bagel store in town where I would always buy some even number of bagels, stuff them into my puppy pack and scoot home. But, being this budding musician I eventually needed to haul a P.A. system and guitars to my gigs. So I bought an old Buick Special, but rode Bloo whenever possible.

Life then became more intricate and involved. I met this musician and we started living together and eventually married. I had to give up my cottage but I kept my Ciao. Matter of the fact I kept Bloo for several more years, even through the move to Los Angeles. That marked the end of an era. it quickly became apparent that L.A., being such a car town, was not the best place for mo-peding. Especially where we lived. So Bloo would sit for weeks in a storage room with all the amps and keyboards and microphone stands. It became too hard to see her with all her spirit in such a state of inertia. So I made the difficult decision to sell her. I got her all spiffed up and checked out and placed an ad in the Recycler. Well, I got a call from a UCLA student and thought that he sounded perfect. We drove Bloo down to West L.A. and met with the prospective buyer. It was all going very well, although I was feeling quite choked up and sentimental. The prospective buyer had never driven a scooter, gets on for a test run and proceeded to fly willy nilly into a curb. I was so angry. I couldn't believe that someone could be that stupid! Mostly I was sad to see her all scraped up dinged up and skewed. But as Underblog would say "that was a sure sale!" I drove home that day feeling pretty empty and like I had just lost an old friend.

I now live in a beautiful part of L.A. in a small space, and single again. I have been writing and performing my music for many years now. It's my passion. That period with Bloo, the cottage and the puppy pack had a profound effect on me. Over the years I have had a recurring dream about going back to that little cottage. There is something there for me. I think part of the reason I am as happy as I am now is because I am returning to some of the simplicity and innocence that I had while riding on Bloo. Who knows maybe I will buy myself another scooter someday.