Archive for June, 2012


June 30, 2012

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Photo by Genghis

MY VETTE “MARY:” Do I love her more than my Harley?.


Noun: Casual or unconstrained conversation or reports about other people, typically involving details that are not confirmed as being true.


“……never rides to work and would rather drive his Corvette…..”


It’s an interesting question, about who I love more, my Vette “Mary” or my Harley 74 “Mabel.” It’s a question I’ve actually pondered, but more on this later. The more interesting question is, why are others so obviously fixated (some would say “obsessed”) with the motoring pleasures in my life? Why is it of any importance to them? Not that I’m complaining. It is a form of compliment, when I occupy space in their consciousness. In Englishman’s case, it may boil down to my renting out space in his head by the year. Wotta deal!

Think about it. I’ve basically been out of the biker magazine biz since 1997. That’s 15 years. Yet, people like Englishman cling like spurned groupies, passively aggressively placing negative items of gossip about me here and there, from time to time. I actually dig it. Makes me feel relevant, man, like I still matter, ya dig? Hey, if he wants to keep me and my opinions relevant, who am I to complain?

Regarding the negative comments made by men (can’t remember any from chicks) who’ve never met me or laid their orbs on me, my bike or my car, I believe that these rumors, allegations and comments say more about them, than about the veracity of their jabs in the dark. I’ve always considered ’em analogous to the gossip traded by old ladies over picket fences. Guess the girls gotta do sumpin’ with their time. When bingo’s not playing, then I guess gossip will do.

You know, the latest about which neighborhood wife is sleeping with whose husband, and which neighbor daughter got pregnant. Or if Genghis would rather drive his Vette than ride his bike, or even if he rides to work or not. But, that’s okay. The Girls gotta stay busy, ya know what I mean?

Getting back to whether I prefer to drive my Vette to riding Mabel, or whether I love my Vette Mary more than my shovelhead Mabel, I’ve thought about these questions, and have been unable to answer ’em. The truth is, I love ’em both and love to drive ’em both, and find it impossible to quantify the intensity of my feelings for each.

But say that some genius invented a Preferencemeter, and I’d be able to say with certainty that I prefer riding my bike over driving my car, or just the opposite? What possible difference could that make to others? It might be of minor passing interest to me, if I could answer the question, but that’s it. There are busybodies the world over, but I thought that these were predominantly old ladies with nothing better to occupy their minds.

What many bikers such as Englishman would like to establish, is a “Biker Protocol,” where cars are looked down on, and more rules and regs in the biker subculture. This is a subculture that’s historically predicated itself on freethinking bikers who revel in the freedom that’s been a cornerstone of the culture. Mind control has never been big in the biker subculture.

The biker subculture has always been made up of individuals who refused to be pigeonholed, to be characterized and defined by others. Independently thinking bikers have always been strong individuals, who didn’t give a rat’s ass what others thought about them, their lives, their passions, and what they did. This is how it should be. The ones who would like to implement rules of thought, are themselves, extremely insecure.

I love cars and I love bikes, man. I in fact, have loved cars for longer than I’ve loved motorcycles. This love of cars has been enduring and intense, as has been my love of bikes. I have an inward glow (you can’t see it) behind my face when I think of either my car or my bike, and the love of one doesn’t negate my love for the other. It’s like how ya feel about two of your children.

The fact that others like Englishman spend their time periodically speculating about me, is amazing, but as I say—I’ll take it as a compliment. Hey! The rent I’m paying to Occupy Englishman Street is negligible. In fact, it’s free. By contrast, I can’t even remember what kind of car he owns, and have never thought about whether he prefers to drive it or his his bike, let alone speculate about it on internet forums. But, that’s me. I’m so self-absorbed, I can’t be bothered thinking about others. I guess it’s a form of NPD (narcissistic personality disorder). I’ll live with it. Later.