Easy Rider and Chopperguy

There's No More Reassuring Voice In Retirement Planning Than Dennis Hopper. Funny, funny stuff from 'America's finest news source'.

I don't think I'm alone in saying that when I first saw Frank Booth dry hump, humiliate, and otherwise violently sexually assault Isabella Rossellini while calling her Mommy, I couldn't help but think stability, tranquility, and, most of all, security. The authoritative, crazed wheeze of this boozing, womanizing, rage-driven actor is a guiding light in the unpredictable, confusing world of investing.

That's why I know I can trust Ameritrade. I'm sure that Dennis Hopper wouldn't represent a company that was anything other than a rock of respectability. When I hear him in those commercials, it's the familiar voice of a coke-dealing, LSD-fueled hippie cowboy biker putting me at ease.

Ah, nothing better than berating a coworker over a poor decision made in the early morning haze of just waking up.

MD: I'm a little mad at B this morning.

Jake: Why's that? Did he forget to shower again?

MD: No. He didn't ride in today because he was feeling 'a little tired'.

Jake: Too tired to push a start button?

MD: What's that you've got there, Jake? Is that a helmet? Did you ride your motorcycle in to work last night because you can't imagine anything better than riding a motorcycle every single day of your life?

Jake: You mean do I go insane when I can't ride? Yes.

B: I think I'm going to go cry in the bathroom for a while.

MD: You do that.

Twas all in good fun.

It was a beautiful evening ride into work for my graveyard shift. This morning getting off of work it was yet another fine day. So the motorcycles were out in force this morning. On such a lovely day, bikers sure are a friendly lot. And I was in such a good mood I even exchanged stop light pleasantries with a total yuppie RUB. I mean this guy had a completely decked out Electra Glide, Harley helmet, Harley jacket, khaki pants, and penny loafers. Oi! Yet both of us, like all the other motorcyclists on the road this morning, were all smiles.

Behind my smile is the question, "Where were you two weeks ago when there was thunder, rain and hail?" I was on my chopper riding to work. But it was just too nice of a morning to let that get in the way of basking in the strange phenomenon of the two wheeled brotherhood.

I finally convinced a young gal at work to take a ride with me on my chopper. Of course living in a helmet law state, it had to wait a day so I could bring in the spare lid for her. It's nice to be a happily married man who doesn't have to putt off to the singles scene with a spare helmet on the bike all the time. That would destroy any illusion of spontaneity. "Yeah, I always carry a spare helmet with me on my light weight, stripped down chopper."

Letting her choose between the shorty and the full, she went for the shorty and was shocked when I handed her goggles. I may hate helmets, but I insist on eye protection regardless. Just on my bike. Anyone else can do whatever they damn well please. As I started up the chop, one of the other bikers gave her some passenger advice, like not to move around and always look in the direction the bike is headed. He also had this gem.

I don't mean to sound like a pervert or anything, but by the time he gets you home you're probably going to want a cigarette and a shower... It tickles.

I've given quite a few women rides on the chopper. Most of them start off a bit tenuous when I tell them to put their arms around me and hold on tight. A few twists of the throttle and they get the idea. I'm not trying to get some action, just handing out free advice. But this gal threw her arms around me and held on before we even started rolling. Just two blocks into the ride she leans over and says to me;

I can't wipe this stupid grin off my face.

After a couple of miles she again leans forward.

I just want to get on some dark country road and go fast.

I do the next best thing and pull onto a dark, lonely highway and hit the gas. When I dropped her off at home she was all giggles.

That was awesome! I felt like a puppy dog with its head out the window.

Congratulations to all you young and single chopper guys out there. I think I just created another chopper junkie.

Contrary to what a previous post might have suggested, I am not opposed to things other than old school DIY choppers. I actually like it that most people don't choose to go that route. Sticking out in a crowd is a lifestyle choice that fits me well. A motorcycle is still a motorcycle. So when my neighbor asked for help with her little Honda Rebel, I didn't even hesitate. Full sets of wrenches in metric and standard at her disposal. She has a flat tire up front so I offered to load it in my truck to get it to the gas station for air. And if we run into any problems I'm not familiar with, I know a guy who is trained to work on Jap bikes. We've got her covered, and that's what it's all about.

In fact, I like the Honda Rebel more than the Shadow. The Rebel doesn't pretend to be a Harley. There is even the Harley Wide Glide that pretends to be a chopper. Don't pretend. This weekend I went to a bar where a bunch of bikers were hanging out. They had the full leathers, the store bought patches, logos and slogans plastered all over them. Then in walked three Gypsy Jokers. The guys had the patch on the back, a couple up front, and that was it. They looked hard and dirty, gritty. They didn't act large and in charge like the other bikers had been trying. They just walked in, sat down, and ordered. But at that point the other bikers settled down. We had exited the land of make-believe, and I was grinning ear to ear. Don't pretend.

And I would chop a Rebel before I would chop a Shadow, but my neighbor doesn't want that. She isn't pretending, either.

What a great day for a ride. The morning started with a brief hail storm. Then it cleared up a bit. Then it rained hard. Then it cleared up a bit. Then we had a massive thunderstorm followed by hail followed by a patch of sunshine just as I got ready for work. My wife says I can take the truck, but I choose to ride in.

Showing up at work, wet, I am the only biker who rode in today. Even the hard core bicyclists opted for their cars. I walk into the break room, helmet in hand...

Worker 1: You rode your bike today?
Me: Yep.
Worker 2: You're crazy.
Worker 1: Why did you ride?
Me (pointing at worker 2): What she said. Besides, it already hailed twice today. What are the odds of it happening a third time?

Coming out of work tonight I discovered it was raining. It's a pretty common occurrence and I've never been just a fair weather rider. And while it is true that you can only get soaked to the bone, I did experience a new phenomenon this evening. The water was pooling up in my lap, leaking in my zipper, and coldly dripping down my nut sack. Soaked to the bone indeed.