1977. My old partner was known as “Little Woodie” because there was a “Big Woodie”. They were both in the same MC Club. After his club days were over, he was still known as Little Woodie. I called him Woodie.
Anywhoo, we got that straight. Hadn't seen him for a few years. He was married and had two daughters. We hooked up at one of our old hangouts, a bar in south Minneapolis. He gave me the address of the bike shop he had opened in St. Paul, saying “come on by”. A few weeks later I would visit the shop and being within walking distance I started hanging out there. Eventually we worked out a deal where I had my polishing business set up in the basement. I polished steel and aluminum and sent it down the street to the chrome shop.
Owning a bike shop in Minnesota is good for only two seasons of the year- Spring and Summer. In Fall and Winter its like a DAIRY QUEEN at the North Pole! Winter is the time to build bikes. Chrome, paint, rebuild the motor and tranny, sending the frame to SB+F (Smith Brothers and Fetrow). Maybe the customer would want one of SB+F springers or Girder front ends- they were the best in those days. Anywhoo, we would get all the parts then paint it, chrome it, rebuild the motor and put it all back together, getting it ready for the spring bike shows and waiting to get paid.
We were also good at partyin' which usually began Friday afternoon in the back shop where we kept our used parts and Old “Bald J' ' kept his 90 inch Shovelhead “Rat Bike”. Bald J was called Bald J because of the obvious-he was bald! On the block was a liquor store, bar, and a sauna- a place where one of my women worked.
She was a biker, and the first woman to have her bike featured in the April 1974 issue of “Easyrider”. Anywhoo she was a “professional lady”, in other words, a hooker, a whore, a prostitute. She sold her ass to ride and build an 80 inch Shovelhead. She also injected industrial silicone into her face, ass, and tits, regretting it when itbecame lumpy and hard. Years later she had multiple surgeries at the Mayo Clinic to have it removed, but thats another story.
I'm setting up what happened to me during one of the Minnesota Vikings Super Bowl losses. (Between the Vikings and the Buffalo Bills, there are no bigger Super Bowl losers- four apiece!) Anywhoo, Woody was forced to move from his house near the shop when the dummy upstairs overfilled his waterbed and the mattress exploded ruining the house. Woody got his wife and girls out in the nick of time before the ceiling came crashing down. This dumb shit was going to the Air Force Academy. He wanted to fly fighters! Woody bought a house outta town on a lake where we partied a lot. They had a spare bedroom in the basement which I used frequently.
Across the frozen lake was a big bar where Woody and I had gone to play pool. We won a couple games from two guys who tried to kick my martial arts-trained ass. After sending them along, the bar maid gave us a couple beers on the house. Woody finished his beer and said “I'm going home to watch the Super Bowl.” It was the Vikings versus the Steelers. The bar maid grabbed my hand, ”Oh, please stay! You won't have to buy a beer- its free on the house. My Dad owns this joint!” “I may be easy, but I ain't free,” I said. “wheres the TV?” The Vikings lost their 3rd Super Bowl. I woke up in the basement bedroom with a naked girl who had gained about 100 lbs during the night. She had her leg thrown over my stomach holding me down. “Who the fuck are you?” I
asked. The fat girl responded by saying “Nobodys ever done that to me before!” I didn't want to know what I done! Feeling my face for glaze, there was none. I told her to shutup and get dressed. I showered and as I got back in the room she was dressed. “Come on, I'll get you outta here- this is my buddy's house. Come on. Be quiet.” As I got to the top of the stairs and almost had the outside entrance open, the room erupted in laughter. Oh Fuck! There they all were: Woody, Sue, Skip, Jack...the whole bunch! Opening the door, I pushed her out.
“Go!” I said. ”Will you call me?” “Yeah yeah!” I said. ”Now go.” Two years later the Vikings lost their fourth Super Bowl to the Oakland Raiders.
They haven't been to the Super Bowl since. Now the Vikings have old number 4, that “Cash for Clunkers” guy -Brett Favre- who gave Minnesotans some hope. Soon they were thinking, “Maybe we can win the Super Bowl”. I asked my son Chris (aka Shlepcar) what he thought. Laughing, Chris said ol' Brett would give us a bunch of hope, then lose the Super Bowl, afterward pulling off his Vikings jersey to reveal his Green Bay Packers jersey underneath.
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