THIS IS QUITE PLAINLY times. My recent correspondence and conversations (actual, not digital – how remarkable is that?) have developed a common theme, maybe a thread. I’m unsure of the difference, but I pretend to be all-knowing, as a chap should. Half of my chums scream that the prices of old bikes are crashing. It’s a disaster, they proclaim (or exclaim; once again my grammar, not my grandma, which is different, lets me down). The other half beam blearily and suggest that the prices of old bikes are falling – and it’s about time, too.
