I, logically speaking, understand why so many people enjoy riding motorcycles. Really, I get it on some level, but that doesn’t mean I agree with it or can’t mock it. Similar to the way that you can understand why I’m mocking it, but still think I’m a jackass. Out on the open road, wind in your face, bugs in your teeth, unable to hear anything with the howling wind. I can see appeal in that, very little, but it’s still something.
So what’s my beef with this activity, that’s enjoyed by millions of Americans? Let’s start hear, and to quote my man Neil McCauley in Heat, “he knew the risks, he didn’t have to be there.” That’s what I think about when I hear about motorcycle accidents. Cold? Yep, very. Makes me a pretty big asshole, I realize that. And its not at all that I’m hoping they get hurt, although I’ve thought I see some dumbass weaving through traffic at twice the speed of everyone else. But that’s what I think when I see the billboards or bumper stickers that warn us that motorcycles are out there.
And you know what else? I really don’t think that makes me very unique. When you see that tiny little two seater, Fortwo, you can’t help but think about how anyone driving one of those is screwed if they get in an accident. It’d still be tragic, but if/when that happens, it’s really not all that shocking. So if you’re riding a motorcycle, and something happens, as it recently did with a co-worker of mine and my sister-in-law years ago, it’s still tragic. But as McCauley said, “it rains, you get wet.”
Another thing that bothers me and this is probably more of the Harley Davidson riders, but the need to dress, head to toe, in apparel that advertises the brand of your bike. I get it, you’re riding one and I can see that, so I’m pretty sure you’re a fan of the brand. The shirt, hat, chaps, vest, jacket and I assume your Harley watch and wallet are just overkill. This is no different than a grown man wearing a Chiefs hat, jersey (probably tucked in), zubuz, visor, boxers and digital watch. Yeah, that’s overkill, and frankly, a little sad.
Actually, it is a little different than those sport geeks, because part of the lure, from what I understand, to the motorcycle enthusiast is the life style. There seems to be something of an outlaw or anti-establishment feel to Harley’s. That comes from the fact that, even if you see a whole group together, they’re all pretty much going alone. And well, I watch a lot of “Gangland” and I see stories on the Hell’s Angels, Bandidos, Mongols, Warlocks or Sons of Silence. So I don’t get how someone trying to feel the freedom that outlaws enjoy, and identify with something anti-establishment can become such a walking billboard. Being a rebel and so obviously brand loyal reminds me of a slutty virgin.
And that brings me to my last reason. To dress like, and identify with some group of outlaws is one thing. No one gets that as well as I do, as I’m a huge fan of Mafioso anything and can’t turn of any show that has to do with gangs. But if I wear colors, like I’m a Crip, or I try to talk like John Gotti, then I’m a damn clown. Clowned by those who really are what I’d be imitating and mocked by the rest of the world for being fake and probably slightly retarded. Hey, it’s your right to ride whatever you want. And more power to you. But just as many don’t understand my affinity for the mafia or hip hop, I don’t really understand all that comes with motorcycle fanatics. Not that I need to, but hey, this is my blog and I’ll write about whatever I want. So there’s that.
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Steve McNair, tragic story. Sorry to hear what happened, and I always liked the guy. But you’re a married guy in his late 30’s and you have kids. You’re hooking up with a 20 year old that you met at Daves and Busters, and you’re giving her an Escalade. You’re promising her a future, and telling her you’re going to divorce your wife and marry her. This doesn’t, by itself, make you a horrible person deserving of death. But remember what Neil said, “it rains, you get wet.”
My man, it’s awful that you’re gone, but if it wasn’t the girlfriend it could have been the wife. The lesson here, for all men and women is simple. Neil McCauley knows all, and don’t cheat on your spouse.
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