Son of the Kid

My old man was an original member of the Jackpine Gypsies. They called him The Kid back then, since he was only fifteen in ’38. After the war, he rode a  surplus Chief he bobbed himself. All seasons except February, he’d say.

I tell you, if he seen Sturgis now he’d up and die. All these fat, rich lawyer types towing their fancy Harleys behind RVs and dressing up in three grand’s worth of Schott leathers, pretending to be bikers.

It makes me sick.

There used to be ethics. Honor. Being a biker wasn’t for everybody.

That was the goddamn point.

 

Friday Fictioneers

14 thoughts on “Son of the Kid

  1. I really enjoyed your story, although I’m Australian and not into bikes so some of the finer points were lost on me until I read the comments. However, your characterization was very good and his attitude came across well.
    I’m quite a Kombi fanatic and it’s been a bit of a dream to get a Kombi, even though I can’t drive one. However, they are becoming rather expensive. While there are still many authentic hippy style Kombis around, the split screens are very pricey and I recently saw a T-shirt with a kombi on the front saying: “Fake Hippy” on it. So true.
    xx Rowena

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