I was having a yarn to a mate of mine this morning, one of the old, first generation members of one of Aussie's now most notorious 1% clubs, known him for nigh on thirty years, along with a decent handful of others of his time . . . . a more straight up, lovely, honest bloke you couldn't meet, a man of his word and a fella who has earned my respect and admiration. A biker through and through.
These guys were part of the crew the world over that put it all on the line to follow their hearts, make the choice for better or for worse and live life according to their own set of rules, they were legitimate 'outlaws', living outside the usual rules and regulations of 'straight' society. They were and are, old school bikers, tough as teak, hard as nails and capable of fixing their shit on the side of the road and getting on their way with nothing more than some baling wire and an old stick.
My point is this, their common love, their shared and binding passion was choppers, even just bikes, before anything else . . . . the drugs, the booze, chicks, brawls, run ins with the law, all of it came second to being on the road, riding hard with your mates, your brothers in arms. Big Fella was saying how much things have changed, the emphasis on the 'criminal' aspect first, the obvious 'thug' element, the way it impacts on the older crew who have found the balance in life . . . . and most sadly for him, and many like him the world over, the almost insignificant levels of knowledge and passion for the bikes themselves and the daily ritual of throwing a leg over your 'iron horse' and flogging the living shit out of it, not to mention being able to even diagnose a problem let alone rectify it yourself . . . . some of the young blokes can't even fucking ride !!!!
I said I knew what he meant . . . . we finished our morning caffiene injections in our greasy, chipped, bike shop cups, said see ya later and went our seperate ways . . . . on the way home all I could think of was how much I looked up to him as a grommet collecting beer glasses at the pub they used to drink at and how not a fucking thing has transpired in the intervening thirty years to alter that initial opinion . . . . acknowledgement and respect.
These guys were part of the crew the world over that put it all on the line to follow their hearts, make the choice for better or for worse and live life according to their own set of rules, they were legitimate 'outlaws', living outside the usual rules and regulations of 'straight' society. They were and are, old school bikers, tough as teak, hard as nails and capable of fixing their shit on the side of the road and getting on their way with nothing more than some baling wire and an old stick.
My point is this, their common love, their shared and binding passion was choppers, even just bikes, before anything else . . . . the drugs, the booze, chicks, brawls, run ins with the law, all of it came second to being on the road, riding hard with your mates, your brothers in arms. Big Fella was saying how much things have changed, the emphasis on the 'criminal' aspect first, the obvious 'thug' element, the way it impacts on the older crew who have found the balance in life . . . . and most sadly for him, and many like him the world over, the almost insignificant levels of knowledge and passion for the bikes themselves and the daily ritual of throwing a leg over your 'iron horse' and flogging the living shit out of it, not to mention being able to even diagnose a problem let alone rectify it yourself . . . . some of the young blokes can't even fucking ride !!!!
I said I knew what he meant . . . . we finished our morning caffiene injections in our greasy, chipped, bike shop cups, said see ya later and went our seperate ways . . . . on the way home all I could think of was how much I looked up to him as a grommet collecting beer glasses at the pub they used to drink at and how not a fucking thing has transpired in the intervening thirty years to alter that initial opinion . . . . acknowledgement and respect.
nice post!
ReplyDeleteReally appreciate it Pat, thanks.
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