I was in trouble like five words into that headline. Luckily for me, and for the rest of Sussex County for that matter, whenever we find ourselves in trouble, we can always count on Phill to bail us out. And, luckily for you, I always write headlines before I write columns, so I now have no choice but to continue the legend of Phill in this week’s “Tripple OT.”
The Delmarva Defender has slain Septima, conquered the coyotes and harpooned the hammerheads, but that was mere child’s play compared to the nemesis he would come face to face with next…
Bike Week.
It happens every year. As soon as it gets cool enough to open the windows up and shut off the AC, it gets loud enough to have to close them back up again and break out the earplugs. Even if you steer clear of the Purple Moose Saloon or anywhere they sell cutoff jean jackets and Marlboro Reds, you can’t avoid it. Like the eyes of the Mona Lisa, it somehow follows wherever you go.
Unfortunately, not even Phill, the Camo Crusader himself, could save us this time, even after selling his own motorcycle for more fishing gear and doing his best to keep our free-wheelin’ friends full of $2 tacos and bottomless Budweiser.
While I’ll admit that literally all of my knowledge about bikers (aside from starting and not finishing Hunter S. Thompson’s “Hell’s Angels”) comes from the FX series “Sons of Anarchy,” and that if I’m being honest, my main reason for even writing this column in the first place is to somehow work in the fact that right before I went in for my collarbone surgery, the anesthesiologist asked me if I watched the show, and that when I told her I did, she mentioned that I reminded her its protagonist, Jax Teller, which I took as a compliment, even if it could have easily just been an anesthesia-induced hallucination (I’d have no way of knowing), and even if I think that I have a slightly better haircut. I’ll also admit that I could be wrong (about the bikers — not about the slightly better haircut thing).
My Bike Week started off on Thursday, when I was tailed by a burly roughneck on a Harley with a teardrop tattoo on his face and bad attitude that stuck to my bumper while weaving back and forth and flashing one of his fingers (which shall remain nameless) at me, even though I was going 5 miles over the speed limit and there was a car in front me anyway. While that incident certainly enforced the stereotype, the fact of the matter is that there are plenty of gearheads out there that are pretty not terrible.
Matt Haley drove a motorcycle. James Dean and Marlon Brando drove motorcycles. Christian Bale drives a Batcycle. Even my friends Dalton and Charlene drive motorcycle sometimes, and sometimes, they’re even perfectly normal.
In fact, I’ve witnessed plenty of bikers being perfectly normal. How about my buddy’s motorcycle-riding dad, who may have biked cross-country and gotten in his fair share of bar fights in his day, but who also ran a successful business and has been there to bail us out of our own fair share of tricky situations?
How about the bikers who tried to help Coastal Point News Editor Tricia Titus’ parents fix their car a few years ago when it wouldn’t start after dinner at the Fat Tuna? And how about when Opie sacrificed himself for Jax and Chibbs in Season 5, Episode 3 of “Sons of Anarchy”?
Just like all groups of people — doctors, lawyers, managers of Mexican restaurants — one bad apple can spoil the whole bunch. (Hopefully, one overused idiom can’t spoil a whole “Tripple Overtime.”)
Of course, you’ve got your tattoo-havin’, bar-fightin’, heavy metal-listenin’, sleeveless leather vest-wearin’, Larry the Cable Guy career-enablin’ outlaws… but you’ve also got your Matt Haleys and your bikers who help total strangers when their car is broken down, and your Batmans.
That’s what I’m going to try to remember the next time some road-raged jerk on two wheels is riding my bumper — not only that there’s plenty of road-raged jerks on four wheels, but that one rotten apple doesn’t mean that the whole bunch is bad.
I guess this time maybe we didn’t need Phill to save us. I guess this time maybe all we really needed was a pair of ear plugs and some AC — although, even with my new take on Bike Week, I sure am glad it only happens once a year.