[Jeff Higgins]

Something really strange happened to me at Ducati of Seattle the other night, something almost a bit surreal. I found myself amongst kindred spirits; amongst, well - motorcyclists working in a real, honest to god motorcycle shop. I'm sure many of you are thinking "huh?", or "pretty freakin' obvious", or "Higgins is drinking again...", but bear with me for a moment.

You all know I ride Harleys as well. I've bemoaned (probably ad nauseam) how the whole Harley scene has changed in the last couple of decades. Many aspects of it have changed, but the other night at Ducati of Seattle, one of the most profound changes really sank in for the first time. Harley no longer sells their motorcycles in motorcycle shops; something has changed. I could walk into a Nordstroms and get the same vibe. Their shops are too clean, too upscale, too marketing. Image has trumped substance. They sell attitude more so than motorcycles; the motorcycle is simply the gateway. And the attitudes displayed by the employees, from salesmen to mechanics, is one of some sort of aloof, ego-driven, "I'm too cool to talk to you" B.S.

I well remember when I first started riding in the '70's. There was a sense of family among riders back then that has been missing of late. Or so I thought. I think I have found it again. The sense of family and camaraderie I felt at Ducati of Seattle was what I was used to "back in the day". It's hard to explain - it's like everyone knows we are kind of out on the fringe, there aren't many of us. So they are happy to welcome some one new to the fold, and go out of their way to introduce themselves and get to know you. Just like the Harley crowd when I was first drawn into it, but most decidedly unlike today's Harley crowd. It was a real breath of fresh air; a real blast from my past. I thought it was dead. Now I know it has simply moved on. I feel privileged to have found it again; I was growing pretty jaded over the whole deal.