Motorcycle Madness

When I grew up, people who drove motorcycles were hoodlums - except, of course, my cousins when they got a scooter to run up and down the street. And the uniforms of motorcycle people - those dirty jeans and leather jackets demonstrated their hoodlum characteristics. So, one day (last Thursday) I am riding around the countryside doing my normal job, going to visit some farm somewhere when I notice that everywhere I go there are motorcycles driving on the roads. Then, to boot, I notice the sight of these motorcycle riders seems to be elevating my blood pressure and my heart rate and I think, what can this be. After several instances of a perception of raised blood pressure and heart rate, it dawns on me - my childhood prejudice is being assaulted: motorcycle people are hoodlums! I am doing my honest day's work and these hoodlums are on the road gathering at some locale in the countryside, sullyng the peace with their noisy hogs and less-than-chic appearances. Why do these hoodlums need to invade my psychological construct while I am simply doing my job by being on the road often and everywhere so that I cannot ignore their presence? Prejudice is indeed deeply seated! Probably a good many of them are, if not average Joes, some doctors and lawyers and others who would exceed my exalted social status any day of their lives! And heck, I'm not going to be around for the week-end rally. I'll be safely ensconced in my oh-so-safe enclave in the big city. Right! Now that's madness!!