As a child, our mobility in society is dependent on the parent connected to transportation. In our family that was Dad, the one with the motorcycle.
He worked downtown where things corporate buzzed with life.
He ran our errands to the post office. As I was setting out to find a mailbox to send Grasshopper's letter, I thought of him on his motorcycle doing the same for me decades ago. Our letters to relatives in Portugal were handed off to him for mailing.