One late Summer day in 1980, I stopped by the Harley dealer for something or another, can’t really recall now. In those days, the dealers were generally store front operations. They didn’t have many motorcycle, many parts or many employees.
When I walked in the door, I noticed a used Electra Glide that hadn’t been there on my last visit. It was a maroon 1975 beauty that had been owned by a local Shriner, I was to learn. It had all the bells and whistles. Chrome stuff, fairing, tour pack, cigarette lighter, high powered horns, and lots of lights. The fairing and tour pack was white, which was the only color available, and it had a big ol’ white ‘buddy seat’ to match with a chrome V--Rail running along it’s back. The seat was mounted on a spring post that went down through the frame’s backbone. That thing had a ton of stuff for back then. Radios, inner fairing, gauges, cruise control and all that other stuff wouldn’t come for years later.
You didn’t used to see a lot of Electra Glides. Mostly old guys rode them. Younger men rode Super Glides, pans and knuckleheads. Mostly hard tails. In fact, we made fun of old codgers on Electra Glides. Secretly though, I had been wanting one...perhaps for nothing else, just to be different.
The salesman, who was a friend, set me up with a test ride. I loved it immediately. So I made the deal...traded in my ’75 FX and rode off, grinning from ear to ear.
I hadn’t had it but a day or two, when I noticed something I had apparently missed before. Because of the fairing and windshield, my shoulder length hair no longer blew back when riding, like on my previous motorcycles, but the air somehow circled around from the back and blew my hair forward. It was like hairy fingered hands, reaching around from behind and playing peek-a-boo with me as I cruised down the road. Something had to be done..either the bike had to go, or the hair had to go. Seeing how, it was only hair and would grow back, I decided to stop at a barber shop. I didn’t have a regular barber, in fact I never let a man cut my long locks. Women always seemed to do a better job with long hair.
Mike’s Barbershop was, and still is, at an intersection here called, ‘Five Points.” I wheeled the FLH into the lot. Mike caters to the older guys and gives them a special rate. They hang out there and shoot the breeze, even if it’s not time for a haircut. As I walked in, I noticed the shop was full of ‘em, sitting around, smoking cigarettes and apparently solving the problems of the city and the nation.
As I sat down in the chair, Mike and the old fellas looked at me in astonishment as if I was some kind of freak. Not the regular type of clientele, I surmised... “I don’t know how to cut hair like that!” he exclaimed. “Just cut it to where none of it can reach my eyes,” I told him.
Calming somewhat, Mike got out his comb and scissors. As he ran the comb through the wavy locks, down the side of my head, he caught the comb in the hoop earring in my left ear... I screamed. Now, not many guys had earrings back then and he must have never seen a guy with one before, because he jumped back and yelled, “Dear God, boys...he’s got an earring!”
Thankfully, no damage was done to my ear, and we finally made it through the haircut.
I don’t go to Mike’s anymore, in fact I never went back. I now go to Joe’s.
RE: Either the hair has to go,..or the Electra Glide
[sm=funnypostabove.gif][sm=funnypostabove.gif][sm=biker2.gif]was hoping it would end with: stopped in at the local barbers college. Decieded to let the pretty girl cut my hair. That day I got MY bike and my future wife , still got the bike and still got the wife.
RE: Either the hair has to go,..or the Electra Glide
Great story!
__________________ As a dreamer of dreams and a travelin' man, I have chalked up many miles...
Read dozens of books about heroes and crooks, and I learned much from both of their styles...
RE: Either the hair has to go,..or the Electra Glide
Quote:
ORIGINAL: GrayRider
One late Summer day in 1980, I stopped by the Harley dealer for something or another, can’t really recall now. In those days, the dealers were generally store front operations. They didn’t have many motorcycle, many parts or many employees.
When I walked in the door, I noticed a used Electra Glide that hadn’t been there on my last visit. It was a maroon 1975 beauty that had been owned by a local Shriner, I was to learn. It had all the bells and whistles. Chrome stuff, fairing, tour pack, cigarette lighter, high powered horns, and lots of lights. The fairing and tour pack was white, which was the only color available, and it had a big ol’ white ‘buddy seat’ to match with a chrome V--Rail running along it’s back. The seat was mounted on a spring post that went down through the frame’s backbone. That thing had a ton of stuff for back then. Radios, inner fairing, gauges, cruise control and all that other stuff wouldn’t come for years later.
You didn’t used to see a lot of Electra Glides. Mostly old guys rode them. Younger men rode Super Glides, pans and knuckleheads. Mostly hard tails. In fact, we made fun of old codgers on Electra Glides. Secretly though, I had been wanting one...perhaps for nothing else, just to be different.
The salesman, who was a friend, set me up with a test ride. I loved it immediately. So I made the deal...traded in my ’75 FX and rode off, grinning from ear to ear.
I hadn’t had it but a day or two, when I noticed something I had apparently missed before. Because of the fairing and windshield, my shoulder length hair no longer blew back when riding, like on my previous motorcycles, but the air somehow circled around from the back and blew my hair forward. It was like hairy fingered hands, reaching around from behind and playing peek-a-boo with me as I cruised down the road. Something had to be done..either the bike had to go, or the hair had to go. Seeing how, it was only hair and would grow back, I decided to stop at a barber shop. I didn’t have a regular barber, in fact I never let a man cut my long locks. Women always seemed to do a better job with long hair.
Mike’s Barbershop was, and still is, at an intersection here called, ‘Five Points.” I wheeled the FLH into the lot. Mike caters to the older guys and gives them a special rate. They hang out there and shoot the breeze, even if it’s not time for a haircut. As I walked in, I noticed the shop was full of ‘em, sitting around, smoking cigarettes and apparently solving the problems of the city and the nation.
As I sat down in the chair, Mike and the old fellas looked at me in astonishment as if I was some kind of freak. Not the regular type of clientele, I surmised... “I don’t know how to cut hair like that!” he exclaimed. “Just cut it to where none of it can reach my eyes,” I told him.
Calming somewhat, Mike got out his comb and scissors. As he ran the comb through the wavy locks, down the side of my head, he caught the comb in the hoop earring in my left ear... I screamed. Now, not many guys had earrings back then and he must have never seen a guy with one before, because he jumped back and yelled, “Dear God, boys...he’s got an earring!”
Thankfully, no damage was done to my ear, and we finally made it through the haircut.
I don’t go to Mike’s anymore, in fact I never went back. I now go to Joe’s.
Either the hair has to go,..or the Electra Glide
