Idol-Idyll-Idle

I pulled up next to a guy on a scooter at the stoplight. I purposely looked over to give the guy a thumbs up - it was a rainy, miserable day but in spite of that we were both rolling on two wheels. But he studiously avoided me, concentrating on staring straight ahead; when the light turned green he hit the gas and whipped through the intersection. As I eased on the throttle and slowly let out the clutch I found myself shaking my head and thinking, "What an idiot. Gunning it like that on wet streets is a perfect way to find yourself laying on the ground."

But then I had another thought: "Why that behavior?" And while I am not a mind reader and cannot know for certain, it occured to me that perhaps this guy had been treated poorly in the past simply because he rode a scooter. It's 2010 and some folks still have this 1960's Mod vs. Rocker mentality (look up the movie 'Quadrophenia' set to the music of the Who if you are unfamiliar with the reference).

I have a couple of good buddies who ride scooters and they have told me about some of the crap they take from so-called "bikers" who are usually weekend warriors riding high-dollar, pimped-out toys. These types imagine themselves as outlaws but they are really just wannabe's; watch them and you can see that they are just accidents waiting to happen. They confuse appearance with essence and have thus created a false idol, mistaking the outer covering for the inner reality. They think that looking the part makes you the part, that the clothes make the man. Nope - they just prove that advertising works.

One of my scooter-owning buddies had been riding two wheels for forty years ... and then he got cancer. Physically he can no longer swing his leg over a saddle or handle the 700 pound hog he rode all that time. But he wanted to ride so he got a spry little 400 cc scooter that will get and go, and he can still feel the wind. He understands essence.

And every time I see someone on two wheels I give them a wave, because regardless of the machine we all seek the same thing, the essence. You can love the tradition of American Iron, the sexiness of the Italian bikes, the supurb engineering of German craftsmanship, the absolute dependability of metric machines ... it doesn't matter, because it's all good.

It's not the bike, it's the ride.