Once in a while a motorcycling event presents itself and yearns to be attended. Some friends and I have been hearing about a growing bike show in Brooklyn, New York, called the “Brooklyn Invitational.” Only in its fourth year it has been gaining steam and becoming one of the preeminent vintage motorcycle shows in the…

I have been known as “Irish” since childhood. Nicknames as they are, were a staple of my childhood. Bones, Mick, Stone, Red, Gimp, all names given childhood friends short of proper monikers evidencing some abbreviated surname to dispense with the formality of actual God given names. Why? I don’t know. I’m sure the parents of…

What’s in a name? In the motorcycle industry, a lot it seems. All manufacturers have research teams to study names of new model lines. These committees study social trend and cultural norms and language terms and how these possible bike names affect the bikes’ marketability. The Harley-Davidson “beer gut” or the Honda “limb shredder” or…

Certain things you keep in your life, sometimes for love, sometimes for habit, sometimes for nothing other than you’ve simply had them a long time. People, pocket knives, your Army uniform, a favorite coffee mug and certain bikes, you just hold onto. Perhaps because they just fit. The “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it”…

I picked up the phone and a familiar old voice was on the other end. My long time pal Earl ‘The Pearl’ Perry from down near Fitzgerald, Georgia was calling to say “Hi”. A man of God, from God’s Country. Preacher Earl and I had known each other from his Sunday morning sermons at ‘Angel…

Have you ever wondered why it is that certain groups flock together? My grandparents came from County Donegal, Ireland and moved into an Irish neighborhood in New York City, to find a better life. They didn’t move to an Italian neighborhood or a Polish one or a Chinese one. They moved to an Irish one,…

I have some friends that do not see the point of migrating from the city where conveniences are a few steps out the door to the country where raccoons topple my garbage cans nightly. They are hung up with excellent cuisine, a convenient commute, hopping theatre districts, bars and pubs crawling distance from home and…

I was born in the last year of the baby boom, 1964. I missed being a President Kennedy baby by only a few months. Killed by a madman in Dallas shocking our country, thrusting a whole nation from innocence. The baby boomers I know are not much like me, as I am at their chronological…

So I concoct this plan to organize a group ride with my local Harley Owner (HOG) Group, Killer Creek Chapter #0746, Roswell, Georgia. At our June monthly meeting I invite the ‘few hundred’ members to ride with me on a “double iron butt”, 1,000 miles out and a thousand miles back to and from my…

Let me start by saying I’ve always considered myself a good long distance rider. I’ve done many “iron butts” and have put a good 15,000 on just my touring bike each year. In fact, last September, I did 14 states and 4,000 miles in 5 days and frankly, when I look at real long distance…