Biker Image and Gilbert

I've been really working on my tough guy biker image. I had the black leathers, gnarly gloves, dark glasses and black helmut. The helmut was DOT approved so not so wily however I do work with brain damaged motorcyclists and belong to AIM the Association of Injured Motorcyclists. The rest of my wardrobe is really mean and mangy. My vest has a whole lot of badges and Harley Owner's Group pins with rides I've been on. It makes me look a bit like an RV owner or one of those guys who sell pins at baseball events. I only wear it when I'm only going to be with other bikers. The biker vest is the equivalent of golf clothing in biker world.

At least I have a Celtic tattoo and it's not one of those wash off kinds some of the weekend riders are wearing. I've been under the wand and survived the ink. It shows I can take pain and am man enough to look like Cher.

Mostly I have a Harley Davidson. I rode my 1200 cc Roadster and just upgraded to the Harley Electra glide with it's skookum 96 cubic inch engine. Just gives me a rush to think of it. The touring luggage boxes take away from the overall lean and mean look but I think the average person wouldn't know if I was carrying ammunition clips or explosives or the girlfriends handbag. I have the look.

When I drive by the police watch me and people on the street shake with fear. A lot of noise and person has come to town is what the look says. Dark rider. I feel like Clint Eastwood in a spagetti western or Mel Gibson in a futurist western. I'm all urban cowboy and outlaw rolled in one. I don't let on my favorite biker friend is a petite married RCMP with kids and an RCMP biker husband. They both rode bikes in the force when they weren't making babies. I ride at times with some guys from the Vancouver Police Department too. They're all gangs. Given the mechanics they employ and the cool electronic gear they have and the 9mms I'd actually like to be in their gangs. They're the biggest and best but I don't let on when I roar up on my bike and swagger into a Starbucks for a Latte. It's better if people just see the mystery and experience the awe. I'm dangerous in my mind. And I have the outlaw look.

At least I did. Until Gilbert. He's my 5 month old black and white smiling cockatoo. He sits up on the back of the bike in the his doggie tbag strapped on the rack. He's got an eagle eye 360 degree view and swivels in his bag with his head and two paws out of the hole in the top. When we're in motion he's got his head out to the side watching where we're going, tongue lolling and mop hair blown back so you can actually see his eyes.

When we pull up to a stop anywhere, everyone is pointing at Gilbert who carries on like a celebrity pooch. They're smiling and laughing and carrying on and I look back and Gilbert is smiling and twisting and giving everyone his cutest smile tilting his head to the side, posing and styling. It was only the other day that I realized that people no longer thought of me as the tough guy biker. Now they think of me as Gilbert's personal chauffeur. All I need to do is change my helmut to one of those limo livery hats to complete the transformation. It's downright humiliating.

I thought of mounting a mini beretta machine gun at the back for him and duct taping his paw to the trigger to at least get some respect from guys who tail gate bikes. I could dress him up like Snoopy in the Red Barron. The trouble is even his Canucks hockey team sweater only makes him look cuter.

I've been checking out the Harley Davidson leather jackets and dog helmets hoping that when he bulks up a little more, he's 22 lbs and should gain another 5 we're lucky and he trains more on squeaky toy killing, maybe the faux leather will do the trick. What I think he needs is a real colours. Laura and I belonged to the West Coast Biker Church but their colours might get him a little awe but they're not going to even strike terror in chihuahuas. I want him to wear something that would even get him respect from Gage his great dane cousin who terrorizes his neighborhood bringing home the whole garbage can from the neighbour. Gage has the kind of outlaw personna that dogs admire even if humans don't. Gilbert looks up to Gage. When Gilbert was even more a puppy and met his first great Dane he almost drowned in his torrential drool.

So I've been giving the matter thought and figured that the Outlaw Biker Gangs always looking for ways to go legit could get into selling dogie clothes. If they made leathers for biker dogs that came with their colours, Gilbert could toughen up his look with some Satan's Dog's wardrobe. Otherwise I'll just have to dress him up in red serge and put a boy scout hat on him so that passerby know we mean business.

It's all about image. I want him to feel that biker pride when I let him out of his tbag box and he gets to swagger into a doggie boutique to sniff some cute french poodle butt.


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