10/16/05

I’ve always wanted a motorcycle. A big obnoxiously loud bike, and in fact, the bigger it is, the better it would be. I want one with a motor so big, that it rattles windowpanes as it passes by. The kind of bike that makes you feel like THOR descending down from Valhalla and thundering into the breach of battle. (Insert “Ride of the Valkyries” here…)

Now by looking at me, you’d be hard pressed to think of me as a biker. (Or even a wannabe…) I don’t give off anything even remotely close to the sense of toughness that one would normally associate with motorcycles. (Not even close…) There is nothing wild or unfurled about me, but even still, my attraction to bikes in undeniable.

As a child, whenever I saw bikers I looked on with a sense of awe. Some people see them as unwashed hooligans, full of antisocial rage and generally unsavoury in nature, but I don’t see it that way. To me they evoke images medieval knights rushing off to slay the dragon and save the day. They conjured up adventure, and seem to relish in the thrill of the open road.

Even back then, I associated motorcycles with freedom. Perhaps it’s a misconception, but for some reason, I don’t think it is. Nothing sounds more like freedom to me than tearing up asphalt. Mind you, I’m not alone here… I know a lot of people who would love nothing more than to drop the hammer on a hog and leave the world in a trail of dust.

Anyway, the reason why I’m blathering on here is because on Saturday night, I (along with Freddie…) did a show for a Harley Davidson dealer. It was for the nice folks at Gasoline Alley Harley Davidson in Red Deer, and I must say, they put on quite a fancy little shindig. They tarted up the joint a little, and put on a spread. Good food, good booze, and great people. It was really a winning combination.

I only wish that I knew more about motorcycles. That way I would have had more to chat about, but I admitted to my ignorance on the topic, and people very politely tried to give me the goods as best they could. I think its cool when people look for common ground with one another. It makes the world a better place.

I saw one bike that was beautiful cobalt blue. It almost looked like sapphire. I think the bike was what they call a Soft Tail. It was stunning. There was so much chrome on it that you could shave just by gazing into its shiny reflection. The woman who owned it was friendly, and we have a good chat about its colour.

Apparently they had initially decided to have an Elvis impersonator come to entertain them, but at the last minute he got sick, and happily we got the gig. I would go back there in a heartbeat. It really was an enriching experience for me. I think it was just because they were so down to earth, and so genuinely pleased by our performance. You could tell they were happy to have us.

The stage was set up in the service bay, but at no time did it feel wrong. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It felt like home. Like the audience was in my living room. That kicks ass. After the show, the owners and patrons had big grins on. We had done well, and they were pleased.