Selling the Sizzle
SELLING THE SIZZLE
UP FRONT
Allan Girdler
Turner Watson lives next door. He's 65, a retired engineer and a good neigh-
bor, always willing to swap tools and shop manuals when need arises. Until recently Turner was the only adult in the neighborhood who showed any interest in my work. Every week or so I ride home on something new and wonderful. Turner used to stroll over and examine the machine, listen to the technical details and muse about how it sure would be fun to have a motorcycle. Sure would, I used to say, you’d probably enjoy something tidy like a 400 Twin.
Then one Saturday I was working on my bike in the driveway and I heard this soft whirring noise. Up rode Turner. On a Honda GL1000. Full dress, with Vetter fairing, saddlebags, crash bars and all. Turner had a riding suit and helmet, color matched to the bike. I never saw a happier man.
Seems that 45 years ago, when he was in college, Turner had a summer job riding a motorcycle on a delivery route. He enjoyed it. Then he became a professional man, got married, started his family and he put away what in that day was considered a childish thing. Years passed. When his sons were the appropriate age they got motorcycles and Turner used to take short hops around the neighborhood but again, he didn’t think having his own motorcycle was the thing to do.
Comes now the Gold Wing. Turner has joined a road-riding club. Two Sundays a month he and the other members meet at a given spot and go for a ride, a few’ hundred casual miles. He’s taken the beginning and advanced rider courses at our local junior college and he also is enrolled in the motorcycle mechanic’s course. When he graduates, Turner says, he’ll scout around and see if any of the shops near us need a 65-year-old wrench.
I never questioned Turner’s purchase of such a large and powerful machine. He’s old enough to make his own decisions. Turner says he’s raised his family and conducted his career. Now it’s time to do what he wants, and what he wants to do is ride his motorcycle.
Contrast this with another case history. Man I know works for one of the major manufacturers. His job doesn’t involve testing or producing or selling the actual product, so in the business sense it isn’t important that he doesn’t ride bikes.
Puzzles me, though, to the point that I asked him how come a ranking official in a motorcycle company doesn’t ride motorcycles. Well, he said, when he first joined the company he took one of the fleet bikes and went for a ride. He can handle the controls okay, and doesn’t fall over. But he just wasn’t happy in the traffic. Never felt relaxed.
Being an excellent straight man, I asked about the woods. No traffic there, no high speeds. Yeah, he said, I tried that a couple of times but you know how it is, gotta have a truck, the open riding areas are an hour from my house, etc., etc.
Before I could suggest a dual-purpose model, which his company has, I caught on. This is a psychological game, with me offering suggestions and him proving my suggestions aren’t any good. Truth is, he doesn’t ride motorcycles because he doesn’t want to ride motorcycles.
I bring this up because the new models are coming and with them is coming something of an annual appeal: How can the motorcycle builders and sellers and press persuade more people to ride?
The concerned parties in this venture seem to be working first on a basis of common sense. The smaller bikes, entry vehicles in the trade, are pictured being ridden by intelligent young executives wearing; business suits and with briefcases strapped to the rear fender.
Ever see a rider like that on the street? Neither have 1.
Then we get into safety. Proper clothing, helmets, rider training and licensing. The people in charge appear to think that if we can produce impressive statistics, if somehow the accident rate for motorcycles compares favorably with the rate for cars, people will decide motorcycles are safe and will whip on down to the store and buy one. Or two.
As illustrated by the two case histories, life on the street doesn’t match expectations. Those whom we think should ride, don’t. Those whom we're surprised to see astride, ride.
We make the mistake of believing in reason. We believe that if you tell someone how to save money and natural resources, if we hammer home rider training and safety, non-bikers will make a rational decision and join the ranks. Not gonna happen.
In my own defense, let me say here that I only reveal the secrets of motorcycle enthusiasm because there’s no doubt in my mind that the people who could use the facts, won't. Secretly and despite what our circulation manager and ad manager will say. I have no great desire to attract great swarms of people into motorcycling. 1 am preaching to the non-convertible, as it were. When nobody will listen, it doesn't matter what you say.
Riding motorcycles is the most fun you can have in public. >
Reasons are all B.S.
Nobody in the U.S. needs a motorcycle.
End of secret facts. Ben Franklin said the best thing about being a rational creature is that we always can come up with a good reason to do what we want to do. I don't understand people, but I have some insight into my own head and I know that like Turner I had a couple bikes in high school and then dabbled for a few years. When I first had the chance to borrow motorcycles (from the CYCLE WORLD shop although l wasn't on the staff at the time) I leapt at it. Then I realized I had to have mv own bike, so I convinced myself I needed to save money on gas. I notice no difference in my bank balance, that is. all the rnonev I must have saved has been spent on aftermarket stuff or frittered away on food, clothing and shelter. Fine with me. I know when I am fooling myself.
The men who are working hard at putting more folks on single-trackers don't have our backgrounds. Because riding a motorcycle for transportation is such a sensible thing, they don't know it isn't the powerful motive it would be if people lived sensible lives.
Mv major boss, the man in charge of the enthusiast magazines within our giant company—he's also a biker, which doesn't hurt—once asked me what I intend to be when I grow up.
I told him I don't intend to ever grow up.
I take that back. Thanks to Turner Watson I know that reaching the age of retirement. maturity and wisdom means you can buy a big touring bike, tinker with it and ride it. If growing up is another way of saying get on your bike and do what you like. I'm in favor of it.
If the people w ho want to sell motorcycles to the public ever get w ind of this, the motorcar is doomed. 0
