I visited the Harley store the other day and it occurred to me after looking around, sitting on several bikes, and talking to a number of sales people who work there that the people we often judge are not the ones who exhibit prejudice. As a woman wearing pink lipgloss and melon toenail polish I might assume that the guys at the Harley shop would laugh at me, they didn’t. This is not to say that there are not those among them who are racist or sexist, but in general you can go to any biker bar, rally, or shop and meet an eclectic crowd who will talk to whomever walks in just for the conversation.
The experience at the Harley shop illustrated that these people are some of the most comfortable individuals out there. They know who they are and what they like and if you are into what interests them then they like you, no matter your age, sex, or color. No one made fun of me when I sat on a Electra Glide and couldn’t touch the ground or when I needed one of them to show me how to stand the bike up by myself. These guys just love their lifestyle and are psyched about anyone else that shares their view. Not to say they dislike those that don’t, but I was an easy target to make fun of and no one did or even made me feel like I was out of my element. They encouraged me to try different bikes and gave me pointers on things.
Why is it that those of us who consider ourselves to be educated are often among the most judgmental? I love the dive bar, but I do note the rednecks, frat boys, bloated mid-westerners, etc. I can talk to anyone and fit in with almost any crowd if I am dressed appropriately, even so, I’m still acutely aware of my environment and somewhat naturally drawn to those I consider more like me. I don’t know if this is necessarily a bad thing, I mean, it’s not a crime to make friends with like-minded individuals. I do realize, however, that I can be a snob and while I may turn up my nose at a biker rally where long-haired, shirtless guys in leather vests mingle to classic rock, they probably would welcome me just because I’m there.
Maybe the biker world is a lot like a Phish concert. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, how you dress, what you earn, or how you speak, it’s all about sharing a common interest. The ironic thing about bikers, is that you’re just as likely to run into a Harvard educated one who wears suits in his day job as you are a factory worker who wears a uniform. Harleys and bikes like them, appeal to a cross-cultural group of people and the only rule for hanging with a biker crowd is to possess an admiration for the ride. Maybe we should all live a bit more like that. Does it really matter what you do or is the journey getting there the most important part?
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