Why I Want to Ride With Hell’s Angels

about Hell’s Angels would read like: starting in 1948, the veterans from World War II, left with an energy that had to be put somewhere, so these guys chaneled that energy onto the saddle of a living monster, the Harley-Davidson bike and one should keep your distance from the bike and rider. The bikers who rode Harley’s, did not give or take crap from anyone. Anyone, I repeat.

Hell’s Angels was formed on May 17, 1948, and the organization was the brainchild of the vets who flew in World War II, the famous Flying Tigers. When their hitch was over, they had to do something of purpose. And with the war being a fading memory, the motorcyclists settled in California and soon became the most-popular motorcycle firm in the country. The Angels even hired themselves out as security guards, namely when the Rolling Stones came to San Francisco for a concert and other high-money gigs.

The first Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club (HAMC) was founded in Fontana and San Bernardino, California in 1948. The club suddenly became one of the largest in the world. The club has since earned a reputation in media and popular culture, thanks to a number of high-profile raids and wars on its various national charters, and in no small part to Gimme Shelter, a 1970 documentary about a riot during a Rolling Stones concert. The Stones' management allegedly paid the Hell's Angels to provide security at the concert and paid them in beer, which was a terrible idea. As a banner once read on the club's website, "when we do right, no one remembers; when we do wrong, no one forgets."

Hell’s Angels was the most-organized, disciplined club on the club and that credit falls to Sonny Barger, the Angels first president. Barger knew motorcycles, business and people. In fact he did so well with these three abilities, he made the Hell’s Angels into a business instead of a motorcycle club or “gang,” and (I have abstained from using that term), because there are two strong sides to the argument: one yelling that the Angels were club members while the opposing members called for them to be gang members. This went on and on, but became quite-settled in the early 1970s when the members had seen enough of the tough, hard life and some even went back home to where they were family guys, and CPAs.

So now we all know the first and last, the front and back abut Hell’s Angels. Did I write that okay? What I really wanted to talk about is Why I Want to Ride With Hell’s Angels,” and this is no joke. But in my 66-years of living, I have seen and known of things that we all wanted, but never enjoyed, and this is one of those. But seriously folks. I believe that even at my age and lack of exercise, I could make a run at being “one of the guys” in the Hell’s Angels. With my girth, face hair, and able to look stern, I might have a through ticker, but I have to share the main reasons below of why I am “biting the bits” to take off in the morning heading to somewhere beyond and letting the other gang members hair blow in the win. With my lack of head hair, I will just wear a black helmet with a white skull and crossbones, the Jolly Roger flag of days of yore.

Respect – of course you know why having respect from those I meet, (stranger and friend), is very important. No one who lives like me, does NOT get any respect. Even Rodney Dangerfield in the highlight of his career, got more respect. And I have to confess. Not having as much respect as others gives me this weak self-image. You can understand this, can’t you

• The Room Would Clear – as I walk in with my cool, casual way. When people look at me wearing my Aviator sunglasses, torn designer jeans, a patch (my colors on my back), then the manager and employees would be falling all over me to make my presence worthwhile.
• The Tough Get Things – that normally, weak people such as myself, do not know how getting and having the things out of my reach and when I could ride with the Hell’s Angels, and I park my Harley-Davidson near the restaurant, and walk inside, the waiters and managers, like I said above are all begging for me to spend money with them. But . . .this time, a rival motorcycle gang is sitting there in my way and all I have to do is walk toward them and say nothing. These guys are gone in sixty-seconds. Me being tough and “wearing the colors,” should make troublemakers around me shake in their boots.
• Sure, I Admit – that my wardrobe might smell a lot from riding on the road for days, but when people who want to open their mouths in contempt and because they see Hell’s Angels on vest in the back, they suddenly react to their chagrin and start to sweating. Even my smelly jeans and boots are nothing for smart alec’s to say anything to me about my wardrobe choices.
• I Would Not Have Any Trouble – when it comes to throwing slang words and phrases if I am talking to a pretty girl (a friend of my wife’s, not another woman. I am not stupid) I can just look halfway asleep, cool, and look inviting to the other females in the room, but when I talk, I will say, Yeah! Cool! What? Oh, yeahhhhh! At just the right time and the people will be impressed with my high I.Q. and also be amazed at how I can be a member of Hell’s Angels and talk so fluently.
• Now, My Dining Habits – will not be a problem for me. I have witnessed (some) motorcycle gangs who eat their meals somewhere in a roadside restaurant somewhere out of Phoenix and all these guys do is eat with their hands, laugh, chug cold beer and repeat. Me? I will pick up a whole chicken that has used on a rotisserie – and take bites that will rival that of any dinosaur who formerly roamed our earth. When the gravy and potatoes come to my table, yes, hands again. No spoon or forks. I will just take the mashed potatoes and gravy into my two hands and bam! It is history. Then as the other patrons are paying their checks and getting ready to leave . . .I let out a massive burp that would cause a windshield to burst.

• I Think That – I said something in the beginning about my wardrobe, but that will be okay. I will just visit my nearest good will store and buy several pairs of ragged jeans and torn flannel shirts and then I will be in style.There will be NO necktie, white shirt or Florsheims on my feet. If dirty and live on the border with no manners, then count me in.

I think that I have shared enough information (about me) that will solidify me getting to ride with the Angels. Have I convinced you?

March 16, 2020_____________________________________________________