Playing with a Photo Editor

Recently I've been playing around with Picnik, Google's online photo editor...lots of fun to be had.  So here are a couple of half assed motivational posters featuring my Dyna and Softail, hey at least it was fun making them.

Tactical Tommy Guards the Jail

So there I was working the night shift at the Moose Ass County Jail with just two other jailers, both “female”. One of the inmates that night decided he needed to go to the bathroom at the end of the hall at 2AM. I knew that nobody went to the bathroom at 2AM and the fact that this inmate in particular was a 72 year old KNOWN traffic offender only heightened my awareness to his being “System Savvy”.

So I go to the gear room and suit up in my riot gear because I know that having 2 female backup Officers only creates a liability. Once geared up, I stuffed one of our new tasers in the front of my pants in case things get out of control and I have to put him down hard. I grab my capture shield and baton and proceed to the cell.

I hold the baton under my left arm with the capture shield “SHOCK” plate pointed away from my body so as not to inadvertently zap myself. I took the initiative to zip tie the trigger on the handle in case I have to get it into action quickly and don’t have time to get my arm through BOTH of the grips. Experience count’s here.

I carefully unlock the cell door and slide it to the side. As I tried to get the key out, this crafty codger had rigged the hole to hold the key in the lock. I bent down to remove the key and struck the top of my helmet against the bars which knocked me back flat onto my butt. So as not to be caught at a disadvantage, I immediately grabbed my baton and rolled to my left, unfortunately right on top of the capture plate, but I knew that I could use this to my advantage, so while I lay convulsing on top of the shield I began to plan my next move.

Once the battery had run dry I jumped to my feet and tried to swing the riot baton at my assailant. He deftly evaded my blow by standing right in front of me behind the bars. This caused me to shatter the baton, and lose feeling in my hands. I was prepared for such a maneuver and instantly went to my tear gas grenade. I pulled the pin and let loose with the spoon, flinging the grenade at the bars of his cell, the inmate then let the bars of the cell deflect the grenade right back at me and it fell down the front of my riot vest. Being the hardened professional that I am, my instincts kicked into level RED. I immediately “stopped, dropped and rolled” to put the flames on my riot gear out.

I knew at this point, that I was dealing with no mere criminal but instead a criminal master mind of tactical maneuvering.

The inmate feigned laughter as I screamed rolling on the ground while tear gas filled my suit and helmet causing snot and tears to flow freely. I knew however that he was about to make a fatal mistake. He ran from the effects of the gas yelling “HELP” towards the front of the jail, but I knew that he was in reality attempting escape. It was go time.

I reached for the taser, but since my hands were numbed from the baton, and my vision was obscured from the result of the tear gas, I accidentally discharged the taser down the front of my pants. The urine left over from the capture shield incident conducted the electricity and grounded, causing me to let out a tactical shriek, which shattered windows for the entire cell block causing a hazardous situation to the escaping inmate due to broken glass. This had worked to my advantage.

I recovered from the initial shock and low crawled my way towards the inmate trying to ignore the effects of the ever pouring teargas and the electrical prongs that were now hooked into my privates. I could not allow myself to be defeated; I must not allow myself to be defeated. I had no feeling in my legs at this point.

As I crawled I tried to remember my training. I crawled over the glass into the cell the inmate had left. I snapped the key off in the lock and pulled the door shut behind me. I then removed the gas grenade from the front of my vest, ignoring the 3rd degree burns on my chest and hands, nothing a simple skin graft couldn’t fix.

I then used a sheet to cover myself under the bed in a tactical withdraw until backup could arrive.

The 5 Top Motorcycle Movies in Hollywood History

There’s no denying it, the biker culture and motorcycling in general has been culturally impacted by the movie industry significantly.  Nothing portrays the bad boy image or a dangerous “living on the edge” hero type like an American or British made two wheeled machine on the big screen.  While the recent top motorcycle show Sons of Anarchy is technically a motorcycle show, if one were to simply watch it for any period of time they’d be left with the impression that Harley Davidson only makes bikes in flat black with T-bars and a fairing but this may be one of the few times where Hollywood is more conservative than reality.  So let’s look at 5 more “colorful” biker movies that either captured or changed or otherwise impacted the world of motorcycling as we know it.  The following appear in no particular order. 

The Wild One

Marlin Brando astride a Triumph motorcycle in the iconic “bad boy” pose.  This is the movie that fired off an entire genre of films and equated the motorcycle s with outlaws once and forever more.

Brando's personal 1952 Triumph Thunderbird was featured in the film.

Easy Rider

Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and even Jack Nicholson bring the custom chopper to the big screen and the Captain America motorcycle goes down in the history books as being one of the most easily identified motorcycles of all time.  Peace, love and torque ya’ll.

The "Captain America" bike was a custom, rigid framed Panhead custom made by Cliff Vaughs and Ben Hardy.  There were 4 originals made and one was destroyed at the end of the film.

Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man

This was a tough one because honestly, though the movie was amusing it certainly wasn’t what I would call “iconic” on the level that the Wild One and Easy Rider were, but what it did do was put the Harley Davidson FXR on the map inspiring those of us who ride FXR and Dynas from that point on.  “Black Death” the bike in the movie cut a lean, low, unmistakable profile that even a pre-plastic surgery Mickey Rourke couldn’t ruin.  And who could forget the shooting of the “rice burner” outside of a seedy bar on the part of Don Johnson…and lest we forget the manly combination cowboy hats, snakeskin boots, single action big bore revolvers and of course a Bon Jovi infused soundtrack all in one place making the imagery at least somewhat important.    

Mickey rode a strutted FXR with obvious customization to include a dramatic rake with a 70.5 inch wheelbase. 

Terminator 2

This was another tough one, but the popularity of the movie in its day brought the Harley Davidson Fatboy to the forefront of a “man’s” bike.  Besides, how many people today would be able to get away with wearing leather pants while keeping a straight face if Arnold didn’t introduce the concept to the big screen first?  Don’t laugh, the next guy you see doing it may in fact be a homicidal robot with a soft spot for kids named John Conner. 

The Governator sat astride a 1990 Harley Davidson Fatboy complete with lever action shotgun.

Beyond the Law

The custom Softail featured in this movie brought the idea of actually building your ride (versus stealing it or buying it) onto the big screen.  Charlie Sheen remained sober enough to actually pull off a burnt out, overstressed cop somewhat convincingly and Leon Rippy (who?) did a stellar performance of a biker with a screw loose (much like the people I know in real life).  Add to this tat they brought the outlaw, 3 piece patch holding motorcycle club made it back to the big screen and even had a dude named Oatmeal in it…what more could you ask? 

A Harley Davidson Softail that saw some customization, I wonder where Charlie kept his stash on that thing?

Honorable mentions go to:

Wild Hogs

Though this movie was of course over the top fiction borderline satire it is probably the only movie to ever make it on the big screen that captures the essence of the “Rich Urban Biker” or RUB.  As such this movie goes from silly to relevant its uniqueness on this topic alone.

CHiPs

Okay so it was a television show and not a movie, the popularity of the show during its day combined with close camera work of the bikes in action put the California Highway Patrol in the daydreams of kids all across America.  Back then the only thing cooler than a badge and a gun would be doing it on a motorcycle. 

Hell Ride

You would think that the combination of Quentin Tarrentino and a variety of bobbers and choppers combined with a cast consisting of the legendary Dennis Hopper, Tom Sizemore and David Carradine would have been a slam dunk win.  But the crappy acting, worse writing and over the top violence with seemingly no point doomed the movie into the discount bins of the big box stores where they sit, lurking patiently for some poor sucker to waste $5.00 buying the DVD, but cool bikes nonetheless. 

Happy Days

The Fonz is definitely the 1960s and 1970s television tough guy.  There’s no denying his image will forever be emblazoned upon American pop culture even if by no other means than if as a punch line ala “jumping the shark” which is the catchphrase for “taking a good thing too far”.  Henry Winkler will always look more natural in a leather jacket with a thumbs up than he ever will wearing khakis and a light jacket.  And yeah I know…it’s a television show and not a movie.  The honorable mention is because the Fonz did not limit himself to just one bike but a seeming collection of bike s all cool because…well… “hey”… (my best Fonzie voice with thumbs up). 

The Great Escape

You have a Triumph Motorcycle with Steve McQueen riding it.  ‘nuff said…seriously.

Captain America

Although a new movie there’s something that just strikes a resounding chord in me when I see a vintage Harley Davidson in olive drab green…especially ones that can hold a Tommy Gun.

The Wild Angels

Another Peter Fonda film but this time with a trash plot, garbage acting, bland camera work and just an old feel to it.  It’s neither good nor timeless but Peter Fonda sure did ride one super nice bike in it. 

Tactical Tommy Guards the Mall

So there I was, pinning on my mall security badge. I knew that at that moment, I had reached the pinnacle of my calling, to "protect and serve" or as my company motto says, to "evade and report". I had just received my official state security commission which allowed me to be armed; I was now part of the ELITE of mall security. As I holstered “Excaliber”, my Stainless Glock 21 in .45 ACP I took a moment to appreciate the gold filigree inlay that had been expertly applied by a blind Austrian jeweler whose life had been devoted to bringing Glock to the forefront of functional art.  With this weapon upon my hip I knew that if it got hairy out there I would be ready. I placed my Benchmade tactical automatic knife which had been honed to a razors edge by Honduran Bushmen into my pocket where I knew it would be ready at a moments notice.

I mounted my 2 wheeled Segway which had the full “police package”, lights, siren, performance brakes and suspension and of course I secretly removed the “governor” so that I could get that extra kick of horsepower when I really needed it.  This thing was two wheels of silent rolling retribution. As I cruised my beat that afternoon I received a radio dispatch of possible loitering in the food court. I quickly stepped into the Men's room and press checked my .45 Glock 21 ensuring it was stoked with 10 uranium depleted Hornady Tactical Elephant Dissolvers with one extra round in the chamber "just in case".

I then responded to the scene of the crime just in time to witness at least 3 fourteen year old male suspects. I placed my hand on my gun and returned the biggest teens menacing glare. As I approached the ringleader, I noticed a movement, out of the corner of my eye. My advanced security training immediately screamed "AMBUSH". My 2 hours of video instruction kicked in like a well oiled machine.

I whipped my ASP baton out just as I began to spin and meet the threat but the clever teenagers had strategically placed a spilled coke underneath my feet, so I lost my footing and landed flat on my back, my level three armored plate absorbing most of the impact. I was prepared for such an attack however, and even though my baton went flying 15 feet away and the wind was knocked out of me, my warrior instincts had polished me into an unflinching justice machine and I recovered quickly using my inhaler only twice. I quickly rolled to my right getting to my knees and dove for cover in the water fountain. I went for my mace, but the water on my Oakley replica sunglasses obscured my vision so I depressed the cap and shot a burst of mace directly into my own face.  I have been maced before so I knew how to handle it. I ran in a circle screaming so as to confuse the opposition and then threw myself prone into a middle aged woman’s lap who was sitting in a booth. I knew at that moment that she would provide a body shield for any attacks that may occur. As I ordered her to stand in front of me, I reassured her of my abilities by showing her how a true professional can take a knee to the groin…twice.

As I writhed in pain on the ground, it would have appeared to the untrained eye that had lost control of my bladder. But in reality, this is a clever ruse to lure the predator to the trap.  As onlookers approached in curiosity I sprang the trap and leapt to a crouched position running to retrieve my ASP baton. I could see my human shield running away from my position bravely distracting the teenagers from my movements. I then picked my ASP baton up and whipped it into a semi-arc and with all the vengeance I could muster, I knocked my sunglasses right at the leading perp in a display of deft ability and superior training but he was not to be dismayed and held his ground. 

It was time, I had trained for this moment for all my life…well…actually more like 4 hours and a multiple choice test but still, this was the moment I had anticipated with both dread and trepidation.  I dropped my baton and went for the Glock; it was “go” time.  My level 3 retention holster was the best money could buy, made by the same company that built the Fort Knox gold safe combination lock, unfortunately I was distracted and unable to perform the correct sequence of movements necessary to draw my gun from it.  I couldn’t remember the sequence, was it “down, left, right, wiggle the pinky finger” or was it “down, left, right, wiggle the index finger”?  In all the confusion I began losing precious initiative.  I was prepared for just such an occasion however I heaved my weight into the gun butt, intent on ripping it free from the leather.  Unfortunately this process caused my holster to strike the automatic knife in my pocket which then deployed into my thigh. The stabbing pain only heightened my awareness to the dangers I now faced.  Though I did not successfully remove the gun from the holster I did manage to tactically tear my belt loops free from my uniform pants causing them to drop around my ankles.  I was able to kick the pants free and turn the situation to my advantage as I could now move like a mall security cheetah, unencumbered by the restrictive polyester material.  I deftly leapt towards my baton still lying on the ground I snatched it up, wielding it menacingly, like a steely phallic symbol of justice.


Somehow, possibly through the mastery of a rare Bulgarian version of Thai Chi, the perp managed to evade my baton strike in such a manner as to cause me to strike the bridge my own nose with the tip of my baton. I knew at that point I had met my match but I wouldn’t give in, I followed the Sun Tzu strategy of winning using the offering of “no target” by quickly passing out.  Upon my awakening I was in an ambulance, wearing a straight jacket which had been cunningly placed upon me during my tactical nap.   To my deft opponent touché’ whoever you are.

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictitious; any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental and hilarious.