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GOING THE DISTANCE

"GOON SQUAD"


by GENGHIS

Photo by Genghis

SEEDY X-BAR: Open 24/7 for the Goons.




HACKSAW AT THE SEEDY X-BAR:

"I read you G, pretty religiously in the Horse. I remember the first article about you, before you actually became editorial contributor. I would have to admit that you planted the seed for what much later became a decade long serious family commitment to martial arts. The martial arts held my family together at a crucial point in our history. You are the one that showed a biker could be a MA without concern for ..... ahem.....peer pressure. Someone on the THBC Back Talk in 2000, told me about the Seedy-X Bar & Grill when I asked about whatever happened to you. so that's when I first checked in here. somehow I gravitated away, but a few years ago I rememberd and came back, and I am a happier internet rider for that. One day I asked about the numbers some guys went by at the Seedy. I dont remember who called me #0. It may even have been meant as an insult, but I considered it like making green belt, and i am proud of being a Goon. That goes back to computers and I am in total agreement and am thankful for them, and the Seedy being open on it 24/7. As i got older I have become more of a recluse. I am not a loner, but where I was once a people junkie with pockets full of white X's making every scene and party i could, I now am just as happy to talk to long lost pals and make new ones I never would have met without the PC, as long as I can still get out and crack a handfull of throttle!!!!! Happy Thanksgiving. Thanks for the Seedy and thanks for the Goons. "


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Well, well. Looks like the Seedy X-Bar & Grill has become something of an institution. Any demographic entity, whether it's a biker magazine or internet biker board that's over a decade old, deserves that distinction. I've written about this before, but the creation of the Seedy X-Bar was the direct result of my leaving an internet board called the Virtual Biker. Before Snow's Horse hit the skids, I even wrote about the "VB" in my Iron Horse "Going The Distance" column. To reiterate:

The "VB" was a self-congratulatory, self-important board that had elitist elements inherent in it. I began to see that attempts were made to run the VB like a real-life motorcycle club, with senior members who strutted around the virtual clubhouse, with their chests protruding. Self-righteousness was the order of the day there, every day. Ego was the gas that made the VB engine pump. The lower strata of "members" consisted of newbies, who were expected to kowtow in any manner feasible, in a virtual situation. After all, you couldn't go around cleaning the clubhouse, because there was no clubhouse. You couldn't sit out in front and guard and clean the seniors' bikes, because you weren't really there. You were in front of your keyboard.

It was fun hangin' there for a while, mainly because the internet social scene was so new. The bloom of the rose soon withered, because the obvious ludicrousness of the whole thing rose to the surface, like an ugly, deformed duckling, Quasimodo-like it in its appearance and demeanor. The shrill cackle of the Quasimodo Duckling, revealed that the Duckling's Emperor's Clothes, resembled saran wrap. There came a time when the VB elite "invited" me to become a member of their exclusive inner circle, an elite M.C. within the M.C. Think Filthy Few without a clubhouse. There was one prominent problem:

They wanted me to prospect for their little virtual hitters group.

I ask you, how ridiculous is that? It was Posers Central, man. That's was it for me. Here I was, a true biker who for three decades, had made the choice to successfully avoided having to buy other bikers coffee and beer, clean their Harleys, and housekeep after 'em after they made a mess of the clubhouse after parties, and this internet group wanted me to be a pretend prospect, in a pretend motorcycle club? I didn't think so, man. The idea was too absurd to devote even a single thought to. That's when I left and created the Seedy X-Bar & Grill, at first to highlight the absurdity of an online motorcycle club. I decided that the Seedy regulars, would be called "Goons." The idea of the "Goons" was an outlandish, ultra-exaggerated caricature, of what the VB was trying to represent to the world with their "Dirty Dozen" of made members. I wanted the Seedy's Goon to be an Uber Caricature:

An internet biker-enforcer who took no crap in our etsablishment.

Of course, it was all meant to be a parody, and fun. I even created a character named BOUNCER X who threw virtual flamers out of the Seedy, just to tick people off. That caused some ruffled feathers at the VB, who went on an internet crusade to convince people that the Seedy Goons were supressing freedom of speech. The whole thing was ridiculous. I had the Seedy's attorneys who were on retainer, point out the legalistic reality in the virtual court of public opinion, that we didn't have to tolerate offensive behavior in our establishment, and that this was not an encroachment on the freedom of speech. The Seedy X-Bar is a private concern just like a real bar, and we could bounce any and all to the curb, that we wanted. Freedom of speech had zero to do with it. These offensive miscreants had the right to say whatever they wanted to, outside of the doors of the Seedy X-Bar.

It is amazing that bikers outside of the virtual walls of the Seedy X-Bar, took all of this as seriously as they did. Didn't they realize that none of this existed in real-life? I can't say that it didn't exist in real-time, because it did. The palpable entities however, like the building housing the Seedy, the smell of the urinal cakes in the Seedy's mens room, the bitter taste of the Seedy's Purple Madness Beer, existed only in the realm of the mind. The pain caused by BOUNCER X's stainless steel plunger, as it whacked flamers' in the ribs, was only imaginary. You couldn't Google-Map the Seedy. It doesn't have an address, other than residing somewhere in the Lower Beast Side of NYC. The Seedy's trangressions to these flamers, became as real to them as fantasy football becomes to players of that game. In a fantasy world, the Seedy Goons became the enemies of free expression.

What was real though, was the camaraderie within the Seedy X-Bar, fueled and nurtured by a like-mindedness on the righteousness of Harley-Davidsons, conservative views on life, and a respect that we had for one another. All of the Goons too, are life-long fans of Snow's Iron Horse, myself included. That is a common interest and bond. What was real among the Goons, were their Harleys and how they felt about 'em. Whether they were Sporties, knucks, pans, shovels, evos or twin cams: Harleys Ruled. These were real machines that hit our respective streets, highways and byways. They screamed "BIKER LIFE" from their straight pipes. They did the Almost Ton, during every ride.

Our right-leaning attitudes were also real in our respective lives, on display and being lived every day of our lives. We had our convictions, and none of it was of the pansy leftwing variety. In our discourse in the 14 years that the Seedy X-Bar & Grill has been in existence, real joys in real life happened. Tragedies also happened, and commiserated on, but not to the point of being maudlin. The Goons have too much self-respect for that. Goons don't think or act like victims, they deal and then move on. The Bill Parcellsian saying comes to mind about the Seedy Goons, "Don't tell me about the pain, show me the baby." Marriages happened, divorces happened, children happened and then grew up. Goons moved to different states. Bikes were sold and bought. Bikes at the Seedy however, were mostly kept. Dedication to one's Harley, going the distance with her, was a premium principle. Life went on away from our keyboards, but in any signifcant institution that has strong convictions behind it, the Seedy was always there, like one's Harley is always there for a biker when all else swirls around him like a chaotic maelstrom, in life. The Seedy X-Bar, is like an old friend, 24/7, three hundred and sixty-five days a year , year after year. Want some Purple Madness on the house? Later.

FINITO