Funky Feet

Ace went out for a cruise on a hot summer day. He cranked the throttle and headed north up the west coast of Florida. There are many miles of righteous riding in these parts. He was on US 19, which when it's not going thru a town is a divided 4-lane. He was rolling in his own vibe, passing cages and getting passed. He noticed something on this ride; an abundance of women riding on the passenger's side had their bare feet up on dashboard; you know, kicked back for a long haul. There were so many of them in fact that he started to notice a trend. First of all, every one of them was caucasian and most of them were fat. None of the fat feet had any nail polish or evidence of a pedicure. Gross! The women with slender feet had the appearance being pedicured, which to Ace says something about the advantages of having a higher maintenance woman. He's down for beautiful feet that belong to hot women. Yessir, you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their feet. You see the strangest things sometimes; some good, some bad. Maybe next time it will be boobs!

The Ultimate Payoff

In the previous post we learned that Ace has paid off his bike. It's now, financially, all his; no ties to the bank. What a great feeling. He thought that the taste of that would be much sweeter once the transaction was done, but as we found out it wasn't, it was just business as usual. Well today was much different. Today he hopped on his hawg and went for a ride. As the miles passed by and he rolled over the hot summer asphalt it began to sink in that his pride and joy, his hawg was all his; bought and paid for. Ace felt a wave of joyous pride rise up in him as he looked down at the bike and felt it's power under his seat. It was similar to the day that he rode it off the showroom floor of the dealership. He thought about how it was the same bike and the same rider, but now it felt different, better. He seemed to sit a little differently in the saddle, a little more comfortable. It is the ultimate payoff for hanging in there and making the monthly payment. It is the ultimate payoff for working year after year at his job that he dislikes so much. It is the ultimate payoff of owning his Harley outright; that it's equity is now all his. He rode on with a new confidence, with a feeling that from now on, when he's riding his Harley he is truly free.

The Payoff

Ace has been anxiously waiting for this day to come. After checking the mailbox every day with expectancy, today he pulled the door down and slid the white envelopes and junk flyers out and it was there, the final bill to pay off his Harley. "All right," he thought, "let's see what the final amount is." He pulled the statement from the crisp envelope and unfolded the paper. He was pleasantly surprised to see that it was nearly $50 cheaper than the usual monthly payment. Bonus! But true to everything in life today it wasn't that simple; upon reading the rest of the statement he found the due date and it was tomorrow. What the...? So he called Harley Davidson to make the payment over the phone. This naturally soured the sweet taste of paying the bike off and making it all his. He was told that he couldn't make the payment over the phone to Harley Davidson, that he could do it online through the Harley Davidson website and by the way, interest is compounded daily. Ace hung up the phone and headed to his computer thinking that Harley Davidson must have modeled their financing on the mafia's. After going thru the headache of registering on the Harley Davidson finance website to complete the transaction it redirects Ace from Harley Davidson over to JP Morgan Chase's website, the most evil MF'ers on earth!

It seemed sadly logical that JP Morgan Chase is involved, after all, they are corporate America's favorite bank; heck they're the Feds bank of choice... what's that tell ya? After completing the information contained in the website it says that there is a $6.00 charge to make a credit card payment! So this is JP Morgan Chase's version of pay me now or pay me later. If you mail it in with a check, the interest is compounded daily so by the time the check arrives it is for the wrong amount and another payment is then needed. It's that or pay the six dollar fee now. This is considered freedom now in America, since it's our choice of which manner we'd like to get screwed. To add insult to injury, the website also states that there is a $12.00 fee if you make a payment over the phone, which they may just state it to make you feel like you're getting a deal by being forced to pay $6.00! Wait a minute... didn't Harley Davidson say that he couldn't make a payment over the phone? Oh, that was to Harley Davidson not JP Morgan Chase, so I guess they weren't technically lying... or were they? A disgusted Ace did it, he paid the bill with the added fee and even with the extra six bucks it was less than a normal payment and he was free. Free! Once again we see how Harley Davidson markets themselves as a humble, all American, grass roots company, yet they operate so much like every other global corporation. They aren't the rebels that they are always selling to us. They make a great product, but their priority always seems to center around grabbing great gobs of money; ours.

Sneaky Things

Ace checked his daily email messages and happily noticed one that he gets regularly from his best friend from childhood. They have been corresponding for years which keeps their friendship close though they live 1200 miles apart. They share the events of the day, usually sprinkled with a reference to their childhood or inside jokes that they once had. In today's email, his friend was telling him the tale of his work day and some funny things that had happened. He mentioned waiting for the boss to leave before getting some work done in an unorthodox way and added, "I love doing sneaky things sometimes." Ace laughed in agreement. He finished reading and then headed out the door to take a ride. The sun was bright and the summer air was still cool after the night rains. He threw his leg over the saddle of the bike and fired it up. He rolled away.

Has he rode in and out of the shadows of the tree lined country roads he felt the temps change on his skin. He smiled with the thought of his friend's email and that old familiar feeling of enjoying some sneaky things. It was fun as a kid and it's still fun today. To Ace, it is a childlike quality that makes him feel alive. Then it occurred to him; this is why he likes riding his hawg so much. It's that feeling that you're getting away with something in a world of tight-asses and laws. It's riding in the wind while the cagers travel enveloped in their so-called safety engineered vehicles with their mandatory seat belts strapping them down. Sure, it's the feeling of freedom like a bird in flight, but it's also freedom from a tyrannical government. In this "land of the free, home of the brave", think of one thing you'd really like to do and then tell me how you would do it if there wasn't a law impeding you. For example, you want to go for a ride? Think of all of the laws that one must follow just to legally sit on a bike and twist the throttle and putt done a backroad. Helmets? Licenses? Where you can display the tag? Mirrors? Turn signals? Safety inspections? Exhaust emissions? Loud pipes? Speed limits? Get the idea? There is a law for everything to obstruct us from having the freedom to do the simplest things. Want to walk to the store? Better not J-walk. Want to listen to music? Not too loud! How do we not do sneaky things? We cannot function without continually crossing a myriad of invisible, government imposed lines and risk suffering the consequences. We are not a nation that honors civil liberties, we are a nation of laws. We believe politicians when they tell us that they will make changes for the better though we know in our hearts that they are all liars. That is doing a sneaky thing to yourself; how screwed up is that? So Ace will continue on enjoying the feeling of freedom that comes with riding. He will fight the daily fight to retain his independence and smile as, once in a while, he decides to do a sneaky thing.

Elitists

Ace spends a lot of time traveling for work and enjoys killing time by reading cycle mags. He is a huge fan of custom bikes and admires the dudes that wrench them. Ace dreams of building a bike of his own one day. But one tired theme runs through every article, and that's how they do it old skool. It is always the only way and they are not just factory bolt on rigs. No shit Sherlock. Every time that Ace reads about some egotistical gear head talking this way he wants to scream, "Fuck You!" OK, we get it, you're a custom bike builder. Here's the thing, not everyone has the tools, workspace, or ability to custom build a bike. That's why we appreciate and buy the bikes they build. Some of us only have the means to buy bolt on accessories and it is just as satisfying to customize our own personal ride that way as any. That's also the reason Ace started the Brotherhood of One, because of the elitist attitudes some many bikers have. Did y'all watch the build off between the Teutuls and Jesse James? Jesse James is a good example of what Ace is talking about. He wants to be a me-against-the-world, I-can-blacksmith-my-own-bike-in-my-million-dollar-mansion-hideout rebel but sold out for the money. Ya can't have it both ways dude. Your either a part of our society or you're out. If you're building bikes to show off in magazines and contests and putting them up for sale them you're in. All of y'all, your talk is cheap. Let's get off of the badass ego trip and enjoy custom bikes. Peace out.

A Good Cowboy

Ace lit out on a ride; it was a cool but sunny day. He rambled the country roads, stopped for gas, and then rode on. Miles later, he rolled up on a little country store and feeling thirsty he turned into the parking lot and rolled to a stop. There were several folks sitting and talking on the front porch; one of them an ol' biker. He asked Ace the year of his hawg to which he replied, "'05."
"I got an '07, same model," the ol' biker said, "but that's a nice bike."
"Thanks," said Ace as he pushed on the wooden front door of the store.
He bought a drink and walked back outside. He cracked the top and took a cooling sip and looked around. The other patrons were engrossed in their conversations as Ace passed by. He made his way to a bench on the end of the porch within earshot of the ol' biker and a man that he was visiting with. Only a few feet from the two men, he couldn't help but hear their conversation, but his interest was in tuning them out as he gazed out at the countryside. He sipped his drink as an occasional vehicle drove by.
Then the man said, "Oh my God, look at that; it's a scooter with training wheels!"
Ace looked over and saw an old man and women, sure enough, riding on a scooter with training wheels.
"I wouldn't be caught dead riding one of those," said the man.
"Hey," the ol' biker snapped back, "just remember; a good cowboy never knocks another cowboys horse." He looked over at Ace who gave him a knowing smirk and a nod. Ace heard enough. He saddled up to his ride, fired it up and rode off. The ol' biker's saying was still on his mind. There's no doubt that Ace agreed with the it, it's the premise that he founded the Brotherhood of One on. And true, a scooter with training wheels may be the choice of only a select few; but at least they were out with their face in the wind. Ace caught up to the scooter a few miles down a country highway and being a good cowboy, gave them a thumbs-up as he passed.

Know Thyself

Last night Ace was sitting on the porch enjoying a cold beer and righteous conversation with one of his best bros, Big Rog. Rog was elucidating on how fucked-up the world's system is and how it can grind you down, eat you up and spit you out. They agreed on the significance of keeping a good perspective and playing hard when the chance arrives to keep a balance in life.

This morning Ace climbed aboard his hawg. It was all ready a hot, humid, and sunny day as he fired up the V-twin, popped the clutch and rode on. He dodged traffic out to the two lane country highways that traverse the hilly pastures. As is usually the case, the miles rolled by and the world fell away. At 60 MPH Ace was as relaxed as it was comfortably safe to be. His conversation with Big Rog from the night before was rolling around in his mind when he was reminded of Socrates' guiding rule, "Know Thyself." The night before Ace and Rog agreed that getting out on a long ride will also get you out of the world, so to speak, and clear your mind. Have you've ever noticed that clearing your mind is like cleaning out your garage? You don't just wipe it all out, you have to pick up each thing and inspect it and decide its value. Should I retain it or discard it? All of the crap in your brain, the drama, the lies, the disappointments, the confusion and mislaid plans needs to be sifted through. Then, behind that pile of junk, the dreams are found. As the miles roll on, good memories and good ideas fall into place. This is where one begins to know thyself; where the light shines bright behind all of the bullshit. Man, today is one less rat running in the race. Ride on!