Sterotype
STEROTYPE
Denis M. Searles is an editor/reporter for the Associated Press in Minneapolis. An active motorcyclist for the past 16 years, he has enjoyed the sport aboard a collection of motorcycles that began with an ancient Indian Chief and is kept current today by a 1967 R-60 BMW.
DENIS M. SEARLES
THE MOTORCYCLE has been receiving some bad press of late in the nation's dailies. In the interest of fair play, my city editor ordered me to find a motorcyclist and interview him. "Find out what these nuts think," the editor said.
My subject was easily found, but preferred to remain anonymous because of the increasing adverse publicity against his clan. He was a Caucasian, Protestant, white-collar worker who rode his cycle to work daily; married, no children but had one Siamese cat. His credit rating is excellent, although he failed to vote in the recent general election.
Agreeing to the man-in-the-street interview, he doffed his gleaming helmet, shut off the purring, black and chrome cycle, and the interview began:
Q: Are motorcycles "a diabolic device and an anachronism in our culture," as stated some time back by John J. O'Mara, chief director of the Iowa Safety Research Foundation?
A: No.
Q: How many broken bones have you received riding your motorcycle?
A: None.
Q: Oh, then you're a newcomer to motorcycling?
A: Actually not. I've been riding for more than 16 years.
Q: Have you ever been in a wreck?
A: Well, yes — but that was back in my foolish youth.
Q: And you were hospitalized — maybe with a concussion, huh?
A: No, just scraped up a bit — and I ruined a new pair of Levis.
Q: (Drat) Have you ever personally known a motorcyclist who was killed riding — you know, one of your gang members?
A: No, although regrettably, a number of my acquaintances have died in auto accidents.
Q: Stay on the subject, fellah. Now, about the motorcycle gang you belong to. . . .
A: Gosh, I'm sorry, but I don't belong to a club. My line of work — let's just call it objective mass communications — keeps me moving around quite a bit.
Q: Well, how do you like marijuana
— you know, like the Hell's Angels out in Southern California?
A: Golly, I only smoke filter cigarettes, but I've taken a liking to Scotch since my last pay raise.
Q: Okay! Where do you keep your swastika emblem?
A: Actually, I must admit I did have an Iron Cross on my helmet a couple of years back — you know, kind of like the Blue Max? I'm a World War I aircraft fan. But so many of the young punks in hot rods got to wearing them that I took it off. And our new neighbors are Jewish, you know.
Q: Now, about the hazards of riding motorcycles. What are your opinions of legislation aimed at cutting down the unheard-of death toll of motorcyclists and limiting their use?
A: Well, I think if you are sincerely concerned about the numbers of human lives lost and property damage, the Viet Nam War and the summer city riots are of much higher legislative priority. Also, home accident deaths take a heavier toll each year, you know.
As for legislation, there are already adequate motor vehicle rules on the books, and they only need to be enforced
— you know, tike noisy mufflers, lighting, adequate brakes, speeding, and a proper driving license test.
Q: So you're a Peace Marcher?
A: No. As a matter of fact, I recently received my honorable discharge from the Army Infantry.
Q: A real flag waver, huh? Think you're pretty smart slamming my interview with these nice answers, huh?
A: Aw, riding a cycle just keeps me alert for you car drivers.
With that, he mounted his shiny black "diablo," and with a soft purr of its muffled engine, moved into traffic, tipped his helmet at a little old lady whose car ran a side-street stop sign in front of him, and disappeared into the congested afternoon stampede.
