By John Burns
Brethren, a reading from the book of Minime: “So imagine when, to my dismay, Calvin and I were running errands and ended up in a Ralphs Supermarket parking lot, and a little hottie in a sports car compliments him by saying, “nice bike,” and giving him that flirtatious smile and wink which are the reasons I bother to eat and breathe. He was on the Screamin’ Beagle while I was atop Philip’s beautiful and classy-looking Fat Boy; that’s the only reason I could think, in my shallow mind, that he got the attention of the opposite sex while I was left standing gape-jawed, thinking about an intervention. But somehow I didn’t think blurting out, “that’s not even his bike,” would have much effect. Both because it was already too late and because neither bike was mine either.”
This is how MO on Normandie Avenue was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy, and had to ask but still didn’t understand, swirled without end, Amen.
Orange Without Appeal?
Los Angeles, June 13, 2000 — Remove your brain. Right now. Read not another word unless you have already done so. Why? Put plainly, Harley-Davidsons, in general, are viewed as unique, overpriced, modern antiques. Not much reason in that, really. So when you take one of their bikes which retails for over $15,000 in stock form and let Harley’s Custom Vehicle Operations program (CVO) “showcase Screamin’ Eagle high performance parts,” to “reflect Harley-Davidson’s racing heritage,” what you have is a recipe for some hard-core eyebrow raising and head scratching that would make the Three Stooges proud: $22,495 and it won’t comfortably seat a family of four or win a World Superbike title? Pardon us while we remove our own collective brain.
Our new CEO, Philip Strauss, has owned a number of …read more