Kissy Lovestuff™: BIKER FUN

For those of you not in-the-know of biker-type things, the above picture is of Sturgis (South Dakota), the Mothership of biker rallies.

Sturgis is where any true biker worth their chrome goes to worship V-Twinnia, the God/dess of All Things Biker:

I think it's also where you have to go to have your Biker Membership Card validated.

I have not ever been to Sturgis which means, of course, that I am not a real biker even though I have a motorcycle license and two motorcycles of my very own.

Because I have not ever been to the Mothership (Minora - Sturgis), I'm wondering if I now fall into that oh-so-clever category that the other Mothership (Majora - Harley-Davidson Corp., Inc.) came up with, called "enthusiasts"?

Back in the day when I worked for a branch of the Mothership Majora (aka a H-D dealership), my coworkers and I thought enthusiasts = ~~poseurs~~ people who do not actually ride a motorcycle but are nonetheless willing to drop all kinds of money on all kinds of bar and shield "gear" so that people will think they actually ride a motorcycle.
The Mothership Majora would tell you otherwise, however. Enthusiasts are riders and non-riders alike; they are whoever walks in the dealership door and enthusiastically shows their appreciation of all things H-D via the exchange of currency for tangible goods and non-tangible services.
(How's THAT for ad-libbing!?)

Enthusiasts.

So, in theory, doesn't it sort of mean that you really don't have to waste all that time and money on something like going to medical school to obtain a license to be a doctor, for example? Just go buy some scrubs and a stethoscope and you, too, can be a medical professional enthusiast!

Better still, go buy yourself a uniform and a handgun and you, too, can be a law enforcement enthusiast!

Just be sure to let me know how that works out for you.

My 30th high school reunion is next April.
(Yes, that's right...30th. It's shocking to me, too, ok? Happily, though, I have not matured all that much since then and I've kind of maintained my youthful splendor so you wouldn't really know how MIDDLE-AGED I am to look at me.)

People from my class have already formed a committee and are deep in the process of planning for "an event not to be missed" that is to be held at a hotel/casino in Atlantic City even though Atlantic City is about 150 miles away from where we actually went to high school. I know that AC is the location for the "event not to be missed" because invitations to it have already been sent out via Facebook.

When you receive the invitation, you have the option of selecting:

will attend
will maybe attend
will not attend

Initially, I selected will maybe attend because I thought that I will maybe attend plus the "event not to be missed" is 11 months away which allows for plenty of time to ~~fabricate a big story about why I can't attend~~ change my mind.

Eleven months also allows me plenty of time to decide whether or not I will crash this reunion...just like I did for the 20th and the 25th. That's right, crash.

I want to tell you how much fun it is to crash a high school reunion. I cannot recommend doing this at least once highly enough. In fact, I can't even believe that more people don't do it.

What you do is show up to the venue about two hours after its official start time that way it's a pretty safe bet that the dinner part is over and the drinking part is well under way.
Both times that I crashed my reunions they were being held at a hotel so I just sashayed into the hotel bar and waited.
See, there are plenty of people who attend high school reunions that realize at about that two hour mark that they're bored out of their mind and have to get out of there so they make a break for the hotel bar where they're pretty sure they won't have to listen to one more person bragging about how fabulous every-single-day-over-the-last-30-years have been not to mention every-single-amazing-thing their kids have done.

And then they stumble upon me, high school reunion rebel, ~~lying in wait~~ patiently sipping my Tanqueray & tonic at the bar.

Since, like I said, I have mostly maintained my youthful splendor, it won't take long for them to recognize me and after a few sidelong glances will eventually ask me if I am me and then they will say something along the lines of, "Wait. I didn't see you in there."
And I will say, "No, you didn't, because I just got here and I'm about to crash the party."

And something from long ago...some kind of long-forgotten spark...ignites within them and their eyes glaze over for just a minute as they recall a time, many years ago, when they actually had some life in them and didn't always play by the rules and then they re-focus and smile as they look at me and say those oh-so-fateful words: "Come on, I'll sneak you in."

At the 25th, that scenario played out so well that word spread like wildfire that I was there and was crashing the party that about a dozen people joined in and were volunteering to sneak me in. Some people even ran cover to distract the organizers so me and Mister could slink past them and into the banquet room.
Three-quarters of the people who were aiding and abetting our shenanigans were not even friends with me in high school (I was definitely not part of the popular ~~clique~~ crowd in h.s.)...they just wanted to join in the reindeer games.

Shelling out $150 ($75 per person) to eat banquet hall food with a couple of hundred people that I'm forced to make :::shudder::: small talk with and who I would never otherwise seek out to share a meal or cocktails with and who all will revert back to not being part of my life the very next day aside from occasional Facebook status exchanges here and there...
not to mention the potential for purchasing new clothes for the event and the hotel room and the cash bar and the cost of travel...
Yeah, listen, I'm just not putting out this kind of time/effort/money in the name of some over-organized, over-planned, overrated fun.

The truth is that I can't even muster up enough rebellion to want to crash this one. I'm back in touch with some of the people I went to high school with thanks to social networking, which is very nice, and frankly is enough. I don't need to go through a whole lot of money and trouble just to hang out and drink with them for a night; I can do that from the desk in my office any night of the week.

I think a much more fun high school reunion would be more like a biker rally. We should put together a giant party on or near the grounds of our high school (because it kinda makes sense to have a high school reunion at the high school, no?) for an entire weekend...and have beer trucks (i.e. keg party!)...and vendors for food and funnel cake and shopping for fun stuff...and 50/50s that benefit various charities...and live music...and t-shirts...and we could even give out beads for those who are willing to show their boobies...although at a 30 year reunion I'm not so sure that would be such a great idea.