Every time I saw a Harley I used to say “Some day”.
I had a lot of Harleys. My first was a black pan. All black with black saddlebags. Had another black chop pan that never ran right and bled oil. It had black saddlebags too. Had a 79 Lowrider in orange and O.D. green. Loved it (Snatch magnet). Bought it from a guy in Edinburg, Texas named Big Bob. He was a huge dude. Had a deep purple knuckle I should of kept it. Who knew they would be collector’s items? Had a shovel I loved. Had quite a few others along the way.
1974. Riding my black pan in hot south Texas. Hot wind feels awesome. Cloudy day. Little traffic. Smooth highway. Going to see my honey. Big-ass eighty mile an hour black flying beetle comes outta nowhere and punches me in my right cheek. Damn! It hurts. Skin peels back and blood running. Get to my honey’s house. Looks worse than it is. She doctors it up. She’s a great nurse at times. Doctors and nurses me up fine. Takes care of me into the wee hours. Next morning, time to ride. She looks tight and hot on the p-pad.
Maybe I can find a couple more of those bugs and visit some other honeys I know.
1975. Black chopper. All kinds of different parts. Did a lot of welding, cutting and gusseting work on the frame. Bondo here and there and a nice paint job. Running straight pipes on the black chop. A little loud but loud pipes save lives ya know. Coming up on a rail crossing with trees on both sides of the road. No crossing lights. Barely see the train in time. No front brake. Bike goes side ways. The chop and I stop about two feet from the railcars going by. Whatta rush! Never heard the train. Loud pipes ya know. If there were an Olympic sport for going sideways on a chop, I’d win gold for sure. Heart pounding like a hammer. Felt more alive than ever.Too bad my Dad was about a quarter mile behind me at his house and saw it all. Scared the shit outta him. Went back and saw him angry and crying. Only seen the old man cry once before when his dad died.
1980. Dad disowns me. “You’re never gonna be nothing but a dam biker”.
1982. Driving a cotton picker in New Mexico. Long hours. Twenty-six years old. Lost weight. Big and strong now. Shovel running great. What’s a cute blond like her doing in a little bitty town like this? Hi! My name’s John. What’s your name sweetheart?
She packs well on my shovel. Blonde and her name is Dawn. What a lucky bastard!Think I’ll have a few beers and take her dancing. I can’t dance but with a few beers I take a stab at it.
1984. All of a sudden I’m twenty-eight. I have a killer Lowrider. Where’d the last ten years since high school go? My new young girlfriend (not Dawn) would get on the Lowrider in a heartbeat. Little tight body looked hot.
Good memories.
1984. Time to go to Basic. Need cash. Had to sell something. Years of partying, whiskey and beer left me with little except for that beautiful Lowrider and a red Camaro. Hurt to sell her (the bike) but time to go. I’ll get me another in the near future.
Soon.
Outta Basic and home for a week. Damn I look and feel better that I have in years. Didn’t know I could run that fast. Arms are big again. Got married to my honey. Became a respectable man with responsibilities.
1988. First boy is born. Good-looking boy. Damn glad I married a beautiful brown haired girl. Brown hair and almond eyes. Takes after his mom.
Still can’t afford a new Harley.
1988. A friend calls. He lost a daughter and needs money bad. Offers his 88 Sporty. The one he gave her rides on. Asks for $2500.oo for his expenses. I offer to loan him. He wants to sell the black Sporty. Lot of good memories for him, of his wife and of giving his daughter rides on that bike.
Sad.
A lot of pain for him too.
I tell my Bud that he can have her back for the same money anytime in the next two years. He says no.
1988. Broke. Medical expenses with my boy. Lot of expenses. Have a new thirty five year old house. Needs a roof.
Gotta come up with some cash. I call my Bud. He doesn’t want the Sporty back.I sell the Sporty. I buy a roof and pay some doctor bills.
1996 Job keeps getting better and pays better too!. Good money. New house (ten years old, concrete foundation and brick, Yee-Haa!)
Got the bull by the horns now.
The someday Harley is a little closer on the horizon.
Second beautiful brown haired baby boy is born. I am sure glad my old lady is good looking and he takes after his momma.Making better money.
Harley in sight.
Old car crapping out. Need a new car.Always something more important to buy or pay.
My Someday Harley is getting a little distant again.
Maybe get a Kawa. It is cheaper.
Naw! I’ll wait.
Wonder when I will be able to afford a Harley. Even an old one. I’d settle for one not running. I wrenched on ‘em long enough. I can do it.
Damn! Those Fat Boy models look good. In any color too!
2001 – Damn indigestion. Seems I get older and every fuckin taco or jalapeno gives me indigestion. Even water makes me burp. Lotta back pain too. Musta been that fight a few years back. Got an injured spine cuz of that asshole. Got pain between the shoulder blades too. Feels like a knife.
2001 Better money. Better job. PromotionHarley in sight. Fat Boy looks good. Maybe a white one.
What’s it gonna take to get a new bike?
Someday. Maybe.
2002. Indigestion. Damn. What happened to the running, weight lifting sumbitch I was back in 1984? Got pain between the shoulder blades too. Feels like a knife.
July 2002 Feeling bad. Must be the flu.
I think I’ll go see the Doc. Back pain between the shoulder blades now feels like an axe buried in my back. He calls the ambulance and tells me I’m having a myocardial infarction. Fancy fuckin name for a heart attack.
Wake up in ICU. Funny accent Philipino Priest wants to pray with me and talk to me about God cuz he says I might meet him.
I laugh.
Fuck that hurts.
I ask him why I’ve seen so many accidents where innocent children are killed.
He can’t answer.
I ask him if he knows anything about Harleys. He doesn’t.
“Thanks priest. I think I’ll pass on your offer.”
Two weeks later I make a fateful decision. Tell my honey that if I go back to work 100%, I am getting my first new Harley.
She says, “we’ll see”.
Released from Hospital. Doc says I lost about ten to fifteen percent of my heart.Can barely walk fifty yards.
Surprise! I recover pretty damn good!
Six months later I’m walking two miles daily. Eating a lot of pills (prescribed) daily.
Come into some cash.
Enough for a down payment.
December 2002. Walked into a showroom to pick out a Fat Boy. Checked out the Fatboys and my eye kept wandering over to a big-ass black 2003 Anniversary Electraglide Standard. Has black hard saddlebags too. Kinda like my very first Harley.
Found my very first BRAND-BABY-ASS-SPANKIN-NEW Harley.
Finally got my new Harley. Took her home.
Wife doesn’t like it.
I get on my Nellie (my E-Glide’s name) and my troubles disappear.
Whatarush!
I may be single and divorced soon but I will keep my first brand new SOMEDAY HARLEY for a HELLUVALOTTA years.
Now I ask you to ask yourself, “What’s it take to get a Harley?”
Don’t wait for a heart attack to convince you to get one. Make payments and enjoy it while you can because unlike several people in ICU, I made it out of there and had another chance to enjoy life.
This is how I enjoy the feeling of life.
On my bagger.
Oh Yeah!I’m not religious but–
Thank God I’m still good looking.
Gootie
