Since I always like to do what duly appointed officers of the law ask of me I will respond.
Back more than a couple decades ago, I was a long haired, bearded (well, kinda), beer drinking, Marlboro smoking, naive, photographer from Minnesota. I had been riding motorcycles since I was 16. (well two of em anyway) A 350 Honda CB, then moved all the way up to a Honda 360! Which is what I was riding that fateful day very soon after I had moved down south to warmer climes. I had just finished taking pictures of a burned out warehouse that the owner had paid me for, for his insuarence, when I pulled my bike into a little bar to have me a beer. I un-bungeed my camera bag and walked into the bar. The bartender asked me what was in the bag, and when I told him, he asked if it would be o.k. for him to put it behind the bar as some of his customers would probably not dig it. Weird, I thought, but sure. Now, looking back, after my eyes adjusted to the dark bar from the bright sun outside you would think I would have noticed all the David Mann posters, Harley logos, and the skid marks on the wooden floor, put 2 and 2 together and realize I was in a biker bar, but... noooo... THAT realization didn't hit home until a few minutes later when I heard about 15 or so Harley's getting closer, and closer, louder and louder till they all went silent right outside the door! Now, I am not afraid to admit that having been a child of the fifties and sixties and growing up seeing the Hollywood depiction of what was about to burst through the door 10 feet to my right, my heart started racing just a little bit. The bartender started popping caps off of about a dozen or so Papst Blue Ribbon's and laying them across the stained wood right to my left as this group of real, honest to goodness, actual, in the flesh BIKERS walked in! I sat there wondering if I could get out of there without anyone noticing when one of the bigger dudes, looks at me and asks "Is that yer Honda out there?" Well sir, since I was the only other one in the place I had to admit that yes, indeed it was mine. Here it comes, I thought. Then he says "Nice Iron!" And how he use to have one and how long have I had her and whats my name and what am I drinking. Now it just so happened that this particular bar had a local oldies station playing through the speakers and we had a contest to see who could name the song and artist first when the new song came on, which I was first almost every time which was very impressive to allot of them. Well the beer flowed, the music played, the jokes were told and then it was last call. The bartender handed me my camera bag and when they found out I was a photographer they thought it would be a real good idea if I was to come down to their clubhouse the next Friday night and photograph a wedding that was taking place there.
That was my first introduction to the 1%er world, I shot the wedding, was invited to more parties at the clubhouse, and become the in house photographer for the local chapter of the club. At first, I had no intention or even aspirations of joining, in fact, I was much better off, and having much more fun in my hangaround status than the poor beleaguered prospecting souls. So I just kept on partying with them for the next few years. In that time, I became a lot less naive, grew a better beard, totalled out the 360 and got a 72 IronHead Sporty. I can't really tell ya'll what happened one night at another clubs party, but because of the circumstances of that night, I earned my patch and an unexpected trip out of town for a spell. And no, I didn't kill anybody.

This got a little more involved than I originally had planned but once I got started it just seemed to flow. Maybe someday I'll go on from here. After this, the next few years got a lot more interesting!!

 

Cool story. Most of the cool stuff in my life happened by "accident", too.
Good looking dog in your sig pic. I have a 2-1/2 year old male. He is so smart that it's scary sometimes.

 

I never thought that I would be were I am and I never thought that I would have gone through what I have to get here, life is funny that way

 

I had fun being a hangaround and prospecting, my patch out party was awesome when I became a full patch member!!!

Now, i'm an officer in my MC (sgt at arms, phx chapter), it makes my life interesting for sure.

That's the only info on my club i'm giving...

 

Nice post BA.

 

Thanks TW

 

Hhaha. Awesome guys thanks. This is what I was looking for. Well, this and everything in the "Boogey-man" thread.

So, TXSwede, you gonna change yer name to "AZSwede" ?

 

You're welcome T-Dub

I'm just hoping it will shut a few people up on the forum that talk **** about MC's. If you want to live the life..... do it, if not STFU!

 

Absolutely. I have been getting **** at work lately for defending "all bikers". I get to listen to fools talk about how everyone of us is a criminal. I listen for a while, then I tell them I have tats, ride a Harley, and talk to several patch-holders almost every day, attend rallies and charity rides. Then I ask, "So, does that make me a criminal? I guess I should just turn in my badge and go hang out with the "Bad bikers". Generally shuts them up. Then I tell them to do some research before spouting off to those that might not know better. I have lost a few 'buddies' for that. Ah well. No loss really.

 

Great post, BucketAss.
There are some subtle differences in how things are done from club to club... and I have even noticed some differences in how we East Coast guys do things from our West Coast brethren within the same club. NOT the big stuff... that is all the same, but some small stuff and some terminology is a little different. (For example: we don't typically call our vest a "cut" here.)
Then, when we get together with the Brothers from overseas, well, it REALLY gets interesting sometimes, thanks to the language differences. Especially when they hear West Coast guys talking one way, East Coast guys another, and those of us in Dixie just confuse the hell out of everybody! LOL!