day 8

here is part of my story (lies?) This first pic is of the Snoop-Skoot in front of the old shop on 17-92 in Fern Park, Florida. That is where i wandered in November 2004 with enough cash finally to make my lifetime dream come true. I was going to buy my first harleyfreakindavidson. I walked up to my neighbor (Randy's) house last month when i saw him washing his Harley and drooled over it a while why introducing myself to him. I told him "you are one lucky man. to have a Harley". he agreed., Duh! Well, finally came my turn to stroll into the shop and be serious. I met Mark, could have been anyone, but glad it was Mark. he is sharp. "Look. I've got "X dollars", what can i have?" We discussed my riding level and wants. "i know a Harley when i hear one, and i want one thats black and sounds like a hog." We wander around the store, out back and finally up front and found her. Old Black Betty became her honest name, but thats a story for another day. "Sit on it!" Mark commanded, as if i needed the encouragement. "Start it up." he continued. She was a 2000 Super Glide Sport and Piano Black with 11k miles on her. When i finally worked thru my nervousness and got the key to the right position then pressed the starter, then screwed it on to let those vance/hines shorties roar. "I can see the smile in your eyes." commented Mark and he knew he had a sale. and the resst is another story. I started this piece with another issue in mind tho.
Old versus New. Now versus Then...I joined SCHOG and no that doesnt' stand for South Carolina Harley Owners Group, within the next couple of weeks. I didn';t know the shop paid for my national automatically and so i joined that too. I discovered later that membership in national is a requirement for membership in local. They meet on the first thursday of the month and here it was the first of Nov. so i drive because it's raining. The VFW in winter springs is their "clubhouse" and the parking lot if full, more of cars than bikes, but still lots of bikes. I walk right in while there are men milling about under the entrance awning smoking fat cigars and slappin each other on the back while laughing strongly. "Ah." "Real Bikers" i think to myself. What a freakin newbie i am. Being a newbie at 54 aint' rite. Rite? But right away i met Terri, Bob's wife and she made me feel right at home and took me around to introduce me to Theresa the current chapter secretary and i filled out the paperwork to become official.