Roadside Reading: The Encyclopedia of the Harley-Davidson

Here's a book that combines two of my favorite things: history and motorcycles.

This is a fat (447 pages), full-color guide to all things Harley-Davidson, and by extension, all things motorcycling as they relate to H-D. Because it's written and originally published for the British audience, there are a few spelling and grammatical peculiarities to relish or ignore -- your choice. Also, you may notice the listing for Hell's Angels shows a photo of two members wearing England rockers on their backs.

The coolest thing about this book is not that it celebrates the H-D brand above all things but that it gives an objective history of the company with both successes and failures -- most notably how the AMC takeover nearly destroyed the company and seriously damaged the reputation of its bikes.

In addition, nicely organized sections explore the Harley lifestyle, customizing, military use, police bikes and racing as well as the history of the Buell company.

It tells year by year what models were produced and the characteristics, production run and sample prices for the bikes when they were new. Neater still are the lush photos of customs, really great vintage bikes and period advertising from the early days.

The A-Z section -- that is, "zed" for you in the Isles -- carries a load of interesting trivia you might not expect, including Elvis Presley ("a confirmed Harley rider ... in the 1964 film 'Roustabout' ... rode a Honda!"), as well as explaining stuff you might have wondered about, such as how to tell a shovelhead from a panhead.

I may not be all you could ever want to know about Harley, but it's a book motorcycle enthusiasts of any stripe can pick up and enjoy, flipping to the parts you want to read and skipping what you don't. Even without reading, you can still enjoy it as eye candy.

"The 
Encyclopedia 
of the 
Harley-Davidson 
by Peter 
Henshaw, 
Chartwell 
Books (US), 
Regency 
House 
Publishing (UK) 

I give it: 4 out of 5 Revs

Friday Film: 'The World's Fastest Indian'

Adapted from the true story of Burt Munro, who set the land-speed record in 1967 on his modified 1920 Indian motorcycle, "The World's Fastest Indian" is enormously entertaining and inspiring.

Munro, an eccentric New Zealander who liked to "go fast," had long dreamed of testing his bike on the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah. When he feared his own time was growing short, he mortgaged his home and accepted donations from friends to make the long trip. 

On arrival, he was denied the right to run because he hadn't registered ahead of time. Officials also were concerned about the old codger's safety on the machine -- he doctored up the cracked tires with black shoe polish because he couldn't afford new ones. But the plucky, amiable Munro caught the attention and sympathy of other racers, who vouched for him and convinced officials to let him do a test run. Little did they imagine the amazing speed he would achieve.

Munro's motorcycle with half of the racing shell in place.

Burt set a record of nearly 185 mph, and was clocked unofficially at 201 mph on other visits. The record remains unbroken, according to the film.

Whether it's the culture he's from or his own temperament, Munro is maybe the most easy-going guy you'd ever hope to meet. Culture shock when he lands in the States, and picking up on a girl who's not really a girl doesn't throw him; he just takes things in stride. But his determination keeps him moving toward his goal despite all obstacles.

Burt Munro, 1899-1978

With quirky humor, between tense moments of failure, the film tells Burt's story in riveting fashion. Bonus features on the DVD show the real Burt Munro — whose own words became movie dialogue — and demonstrate how brilliant an actor Anthony Hopkins really is. Also notable in the cast is Diane Ladd as a lusty widow who lends a hand — and her bed — when his trailer breaks down on the way to Utah.

Check out this Indian Motorcycle site for a number of pages featuring Burt Munro and his work.

"The World's 
Fastest 
Indian," 
2005
directed by
Roger Donaldson
starring
Anthony 
Hopkins
rated PG

This is one of my favorite movies 
of any genre. I give it: Five Revs out of Five

Thanksgiving on Two Wheels

This year I'm grateful for all of the people who have supported me on my  journey into motorcycling.

To the Lady Riders motorcycle club, Wind Chasers chapter member Leslie who invited me to the club's spring meeting, to Yibbity and her sweet daughter, who met me at the ice cream stand and to President Colleen MacShara, who took time to encourage and watch over this greenhorn turning sloppy circles in an empty parking lot on a Sunday afternoon.

To the rider coaches who patiently taught me and showed me where I was going wrong. Especially the ones who finally passed me to get my endorsement.

To the people at work who noticed my bike and complimented me on my "courage" for trying something so unusual for a woman of my ... ahem ... maturity.

To my oldest sister, who yelled at me for being so reckless as to buy a motorcycle. And to my youngest sister who applauded by choice, and whose enthusiasm for riding fueled my own.

To my 83-year-old father, who read my blog and laughed, and who came by often to ask about my progress and talk mechanical things.

To the friends who asked, "Did you ride today?"

To readers of this blog who joined me on this journey, commented and encouraged discussion, especially Lori, who stuck with me from my first faltering rides to full licensure.

And most of all, to my loving husband, who located my motorcycle on eBay, went with me to check it out, drove it home for me, supported my learning process, rode with me, reminded me to turn off my turn signal, push-started it when I drained her battery and assured me that "It's only metal -- it can be fixed."

My heart overflows with gratitude today. I hope yours does, too.
Happy Thanksgiving.

Roadside Reading: 'Lois on the Loose'

leToday I'm launching my series of motorcycle-themed book reviews with a humorous nonfiction world adventure: 'Lois on the Loose: One Woman, One Motorcycle, 20,000 Miles Across the Americas," by Lois Pryce.

The cover alone sells this book: A cute, young redhead perched jauntily atop a dirt bike on a yellow and orange desert plain. Who could resist?

Lois was chafing under the weight of an office job at the BBC when on a whim she bought a Yamaha XT225 Serow and planned a trip from Alaska to Ushuaia, Argentina. She left her cubicle, packed her cases, crated the bike and set off on the trip of a lifetime.

While reading this book in bed at night, I would often relate some funny story to my Ironman, who would inevitably frown and say, "She's an idiot. She didn't plan." Well ... she DID survive to tell the tale, I'd remind him.

One problem I had with the book was the spareness of details and lack of follow-up. For instance, Lois talks about having to pack light, but doesn't say what she deemed necessary to carry. She also describes meeting the love of her life shortly before heading out on her lengthy trip, and being concerned what the distance would do to that love, but in the end she never talks about what happened when she returned to England.

I will say this for Lois: She's a great travel companion. She's game -- ready to roll and slow to complain, even under the most trying circumstances.

And believe me, she was tried.

Starting with freezing conditions in the north, where she mistook clumps of snow falling off the sides of her tent for marauding bears, and carrying on through difficult communication with Spanish-speaking natives, financial rip-offs by fake cops and local drivers alike, questionable food, impassable roads, a blockade by a military junta, torrential rain and crushing wind.

Through all of that were ongoing carburetor problems due to altitude, broken chain, leaking oil, running out of gas, flat batteries and roadside flops. Worst of all was a stretch of the trip with a bitchy companion whom Lois was unable to placate, followed by a horrific crash.

Another issue, though minor, was my own language barrier with Lois' British vernacular, such as a reference to Columbus nipping over for his "first recce," which I later learned meant reconnaissance, and her description of a situation as "aggro" -- I assumed, aggravating.

But Lois writes cleverly, with a wry wit that makes even the rockiest parts of the trip a pleasure.

"Adventure is just a personal thing, I decided, it means whatever you want it to," she says near the end of the book. "To me it just means having a go at something that might be exciting or difficult, just to see if I can."

I give it: Four Revs out of Five.

Friday Film: 'Why Sturgis?'

Say the name Sturgis, and most people think of one thing: The weeklong annual motorcycle rally that draws thousands to the biggest biker party in the world.

But those who have been there know there is a lot more to Sturgis than drinking, dancing and ogling biker babes. The tiny town of Sturgis, South Dakota, named for Civil War cavalryman Samuel David Sturgis, is set in one of the most naturally beautiful land in the United States, with a rich history dating from the old west.

The sweet, sentimental documentary "Why Sturgis?" (see trailer here) by Martin Schliessman and John Brune is an affectionate and personable look at the life and times of a town that's a lot more than a place for bikers to meet up once a year. Sure, they show the rally in all its glory, but the history and natural attractions of the area also get their due.

The filmmakers describe how a local motorcycle club, the Jackpine Gypsies, started the rally 71 years ago with events capped by the hill climbing contests and the Jackpine Gypsies Championship Half-Mile Race. They include here possibly the last interview of the late Pearl Hoel, "First Lady of the Sturgis Rally" -- widow of one of the original Jackpine Gypsies, Pappy Hoel, co-founder of the Sturgis Rally & Black Hills Classic. Interviewed in 2001, she describes how she was asked to speak about the nature of women who attend the rally.

"I'm the antique from 1938," she says with no hint of irony.

Like awestruck tourists, the filmmakers visit the sites that define the Black Hills area -- Mount Rushmore, Bear Butte, Fort Meade and the Crazy Horse Memorial -- as well as the tourist-trappish Wall Drug store and places made famous by the rumble of motorcycles in August.

They talk to historians, bikers and tourists, with a healthy emphasis on the national significance of the area in our development as a nation -- the discovery of gold, western settlement, establishment of an Army outpost and the 1857 Sioux Council to ensure the safety of the land that was sacred to the American Natives.

If you enjoy history, you'll love this movie. Not just military history, but motorcycle history, as well.

"The motorcycle rally is in fact an outgrowth of what was going on at here the post," historian Charles Rambow says in the film. Following military maneuvers and an elaborate ceremony, "At Fort Robinson in 1938, half of the (cavalry) troop turn over their horses. When that half of the 4th Cav get back to the post, their horses have been replaced by Indian motorcycles and Harley-Davidson motorcycles."

Pearl describes what it was like for riders in the early days of the rallies.

"In early days, they had only a cloth helmet," Pearl says. "Well, anybody would know that a cloth helmet wouldn't help you any if you had a motorcycle accident. Well, then came the cap, and if you'll notice in some of the pictures in my album, you'll see that everybody had just a cap on. And later on, everybody had helmets, which I think was a smart thing.

"As far as wearing a helmet is concerned, I don't like to wear a helmet for the simple reason that I can't hear as well as I want to."

There's also that element of putting the myth of the "Bad Biker" to rest.

"Why Sturgis?" is highly recommended. I give it: Five Revs out of Five.

'Full Throttle Saloon'

I didn't see this show when it premiered a year ago, but it's back on TruTV starting tonight (Nov. 17) for a second season. Since "Full Throttle Saloon" is not nearly as outrageous, I'm guessing it is more "real" than "Ma's Roadhouse" turned out to be.

So-called "reality" shows generally are not my favorite, but I did give this one a look. Once again, I want to emphasize that "reality TV" isn't real, so let's just get that out of the way.

Here's the lowdown on "Full Throttle": Dreadlocked white-boy rocker Michael Ballard owns this bar in Sturgis, South Dakota, billed as "The World's Largest Biker Bar." The grounds include shops, bars, cabins, restaurants, burn-out pits and acres of parking. Two weeks a year, during the annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally in August, it is just one of a number of local bars aggressively competing to collect the buckage of thousands of bikers who flock there each year.

Last year, the 69th rally, Ballard anticipated a big profit. But hail and other setbacks severely disappointed his expectations. This year, for the 70th anniversary of the rally, in 2010. He starts this season warning that if he doesn't turn things around significantly, he'll have to close the bar.

One of his partners is his girlfriend, Angie, of "Angieland" where she shows off two of her best assets. She also dances with the Flaunt Girls, who she hopes will go big-time when a talent scout visits.

The Flaunt Girls entertain

Here's a little sample. Something's wrong with the sound, but you get the picture.

Also in this crew is Jesse James Dupree -- lead singer for Jackyl, which has performed on the show -- not to be confused with the Jesse James who started the now-defunct West Coast Choppers, starred in "Monster Garage" and broke the heart of America's Sweetheart, Sandra Bullock.

And speaking of Sturgis, come back on Friday for a review of the film documentary "Why Sturgis?"

Winter Storage

After the mild weather last week, with many bikers still on the street, it's hard to think about the inevitable. But the time is drawing nearer when it'll be plain crazy to take to the road on two wheels.

That means prepping for winter storage.

I have a garage at my disposal, but what if I didn't? Would I leave it out on the driveway to collect snow? No way!

I know of at few places that offers winter storage. Most large dealers offer heated storage and oversight.

 

My favorite, the American Road Shop in Waterford Township, is almost filled up for storage that runs Nov. 1 through May 1. The nice folks at the Road Shop offer a dust cover, battery tender, 20-point inspection and discounts on bike parts and labor as well as a discount on storage if you have work done on your scoot. For example, storage is only $19.95 a month with $1,500 in service work, or free with $2,500 in service.

Harley-Davidson dealers also are quickly filling up. ABC Cycle in Waterford Township charges $1 a day in climate-controlled environment with fuel stabilization, battery disconnect with springtime charge and reconnect, spring wash and 25-point inspection.

There must be plenty of other places, depending on whether you require heated storage. I suppose you could always leave it in a self-storage locker for a monthly fee. You can even get those with climate control.

There are a number of things you ought to do to prepare your bike for hibernation. One is gas stabilization, to prevent the stagnant gasoline from hardening in your fuel injector or carburetion system. A friend of ours claims it didn't work for him and he still ended up with a lacquered carburetor, so he doesn't bother anymore. But my hubby always puts gas stabilizer in his filled tank and runs the motor to spread the mixture through the whole system. I followed his lead.

Another big concern is the battery. Sitting in the cold generally makes a battery go dormant, as you may know from trying to use a flashlight or camera that's been sitting in your car overnight. But freezing is not good for auto batteries, which can crack under extreme conditions. Your battery may contain acid, which must be handled with care. Some batteries need to be filled with distilled water; others do not open and are maintenance-free. But that doesn't mean they're good to go if they sit idle in cold conditions all winter. Nonuse can render them incapable of holding a charge.

 My owner manual says I should take my battery off the bike, take it to a warm place, place it on a nonconductive surface and hook it up to a trickle charger. A trickle charger will keep on charging even when the battery is at full charge, so you use it once a month to keep the battery charged, rather than keeping it on. A battery tender such as a float charger has a regulator that stops charging when the battery is full, so you can hook it up and forget it till spring.

I've decided this year to ignore that good advice and buy a new one in spring. My battery is already four years old, and they generally only last five to six years if maintained carefully. But mine has already drained twice since I bought the bike -- once when I was riding it at slow speed! -- so it hardly seems worth saving.

Motorcycle batteries aren't terribly expensive. A new battery should run you about $20 to $50, depending what you need. In replacing it, I plan to take my old one with me when I shop, to make sure to get the same kind. There are different types for different motorcycles, and it does make a difference.

A neat Dutch women bikers website called Motoress recently offered a comprehensive article about prepping your bike for winter storage. Don't worry -- it's written in English. With some variant spelling ("tyre," f'rinstance).

Happy hibernation!

Hells Angels

I've been reading a lot about the Hells Angels lately. Not sure why ... I picked up one book, then another and another, and then the Angels were suddenly much in the news.

Last night I finally watched "Gimme Shelter," the infamous film of the Rolling Stones' 1969 Altamont free concert, at which a Hells Angel stabbed a man in the crowd to death. In coming weeks I'll talk more about the books and the movie, but for now I wanted to comment a bit about the phenomenon that is the Angels and why they've been in the news again lately.

Let me say right here that I do not personally know anyone in or affiliated with the Hells Angels Motorcycle Club. But the Angels have been on my mind lately, so I thought I'd talk about it.

Many people consider them to be the top outlaw motorcycle club in the world. The term "outlaw," as a friend who's a member of the Forbidden Wheels MC pointed out to me, doesn't mean the members are all criminals or that the group is a criminal organization -- although criminal behavior often goes with the territory. What "outlaw" means is the group is not recognized by the American Motorcyclist Association.

The irony of the club is that although it rejects most of the conventions of American Society, it also is a registered trademark and corporation. Witness the website www.hells-angels.com. with its motto, "When we do right, nobody remembers, when we do wrong, nobody forgets."

I'm a little concerned about putting their colors on this site, for fear I might rile 'em. Because that's what I was getting to -- the organization just settled a lawsuit against the Alexander McQueen fashion design house for using the club's winged death's head symbol. Funniest thing about that is Sonny Barger, a founder of the Oakland, Calif., Hells Angels club, talks about starting the club in the 1950s using a patch a friend had found, not realizing it was already in use by the San Bernardino Hells Angels chapter.

My how things change.

The following is quoted from the New York Daily News:

The French design house Alexander McQueen doesn't have to fear the sound of revving motorcycle engines anymore.

The Hells Angels have settled their lawsuit against the brand as well as Saks Fifth Avenue department store and online retailer Zappos.com.  The defendants will pull all merchandise featuring the motorcycle gangs trademark "death's head" insignia, reports New York magazine.

The companies will attempt to recall all merchandise, including rings, dresses and purses featuring the trademarked design and have the pricey items destroyed.

The Angels insignia is trademarked and for "members only" said the gang's attorney, Fritz Clapp.

In 2006, the Hells Angels filed a lawsuit against Disney for using the Hells Angels name and membership images in its script for the film "Wild Hogs."

The gang withdrew the complaint after receiving assurances that its marks would not appear in the film, according to Clapp, reported the Financial Times.

In 1999, the (New York Mayor Rudy) Giuliani administration paid  $450,000 to seven members of the Hells Angels and two of the bikers' girlfriends to settle a lawsuit over a police raid on the group's headquarters in the East Village, the New York Times reported.

"The reason for them doing it is, I guess, because we're the Hells Angels," one Angel told the Times. "They have this strange idea that we're all illegal criminals or something.''

******

You'll notice the newspaper refers to the club as a "gang." This is something law enforcement agencies and the news media in general like to promote, but I will do my best not to employ that stereotypical term. It is a club -- albeit very different from the Optimist Club.

Items that  the fashion house had designed with the death's head symbol included a three-finger “Hell’s Knuckle Duster” ring, a matching clutch, a $1,595 dress, and a $560 scarf — all of which can be seen here.

The Styleite blog had some snarky comments to make about the lawsuit, notiing that "We find it hard to believe anyone carrying an Alexander McQueen clutch would be marauding as a Hell’s Angel"; and that the ring, which sold at Saks Fifth Avenue for $495, just tripled in value because of the ban.

So if you're an Angel, please don't sue me -- I'm only a messenger. And not a wealthy one at that. But feel free to leave me a shout-out.

First Impression of MotoGP

Next year I hope to see some live motorcycle racing.

Not long ago, we met a hometown biker who mentioned he enjoys flat-track racing in Marlette, Mich. I tried to look it up online, but didn't have much success. What I found seemed to be just motocross. Guess we'll have to try again next summer.

Motorcycle racing is huge all over the world, I know, but it's a foreign sport to me, with its own language -- one that I don't comprehend.

I've watched auto racing on TV and sat in the stands for the Gould Grand Prix at Michigan International Speedway, but I've never seen a real motorcycle race.

Marc Marquez: 2010
125cc World Champion

Till yesterday. We went to a bistro that had 20 TV sets tuned to various sporting events. One of them was the Moto2 Grand Prix at Valencia, Spain.

What I saw was a sport of strong, athletic young men; single-minded men whose arteries throb with the vibrant drive of their own life force, striving to win as if that goal is all that matters in the world.

It was hard for me to pay attention to my dessert companion, as I was transfixed. I didn't want to miss anything. Those racers were amazing to watch -- so controlled, so instinctive. I watched as they banked the turns as one, rising to use their own bodies as air brakes, then tucking and leaning as if to lay the bikes down on the track and rising again, flipping and smoothly launching into the next turn.

If only I had such grace.

Do Riders Get Rusty?

Feels like winter is almost here. It's too dark to see in the morning and snow is already falling in Michigan.

It's been a couple of weeks since I've been able to ride my bike, and I keep thinking my skills are eroding. Sure, I know there is a reason for the cliché: "It's like riding a bike -- once you learn you never forget."

But the last time we went out -- when I hadn't ridden for about a week -- already I felt rusty.

It concerns me that I'll have to learn all over again next spring.

So what can I do about it, short of moving to a warmer climate?
Say, that's not a bad idea!

 ********************

 Speaking of dark mornings, don't forget to "fall back" your clock this weekend as Daylight Saving Time comes to an end.

Translating 'Sons of Anarchy'

I habitually record favorite TV shows to watch more than once. Ones we especially like we burn to disk, and I name the files so they're organized and easy to find later. In looking them up, I've found that the titles are clues to the themes and meanings of the episodes.

Years ago, I didn't know that all TV show episodes have titles; most never use them onscreen. But now, on the Internet I can always look up the names of individual episodes -- as well as guest stars and sometimes even the music used in them. One of my favorite bookmarks is TV.com.

But I was puzzled when I looked up "Sons of Anarchy" and found titles I didn't understand. Some were Gaelic, an ancient language used in the islands now known as parts of the United Kingdom -- primarily Scotland and Ireland, which is where the Sons are at this point in the story.

So naturally, I looked them up to see what they mean. I used to have a penpal in Scotland, who sent me a handy guide to Scottish and Gaelic words. It proved most valuable in creating a unique screen name on AOL (do you realize just how many Nicole Robertsons are floating about?).

To save you the trouble of looking them up yourself, I offer this quick guide to The Sons' strange nomenclature. I leave it to you to figure out what these words mean in relation to the show.

Season 1:

"Capybara" = this
is a semi-aquatic
animal that lives
in South America.

Season 2:

• "Falx Cerebri" = This Latin term refers to the tissue that divides the two hemispheres of the brain."
• Gilead" = In the Bible, hill of testimony or mound of witness.
• "Potlatch" = This is a ceremony practiced by native peoples of the west and northwest Canada and United States, in which the head of a family invites the people of the village to share food, and gives away many or most of his possessions. European ettlers considered it uncivilized, and it was banned by the federal governments of both countries in the 19th century to prevent the native people from impoverishing themselves.
• "Fa Guan" = "The judge" in Mandarin Chinese.
• "Na Triobloidi" = "The Troubles" in Irish, refers to the period of conflict and civil warfare in Northern Ireland from the 1960s to the Good Friday agreement in 1998. The bloody strife was over discrimination against the Catholic/nationalist minority by the Protestant/unionist majority, and Northern Ireland's status as part of the United Kingdom.

Season 3

• "Widening Gyre" = A gyre is a circular or spiral form; a vortex. In oceanography it refers to a large system of rotating surface ocean currents, particularly those affecting wind movement. The word comes from the Latin gyrus, and Greek gyros.
  Combined with an earlier episode's title, "Turning and Turning," these two comprise the opening line of William Butler Yeats' poem, "The Second Coming," which appears to predict apocalypse brought about by evil zealots and allowed by the inaction of good men (and women!). Also note this poem featured prominently in the horror/sci-fi series "Millennium," from "X-Files" creator Chris Carter.
  
  "TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
  The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
  Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
  Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
  The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
  The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
  The best lack all conviction, while the worst
  Are full of passionate intensity."
  
  The word "gyre" also appears as a verb in Lewis Carroll's nonsense poem, "Jabberwocky," which appeared in "Through the Looking Glass." Here is that poem:

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
  The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
  The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
  Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
  And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
  The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
  And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
  The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
  He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
  Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
  He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.

• "Lochan Mor" = “Great Pond” in Gaelic, in this case referring to the Atlantic Ocean, often referred with tongue in cheek by Britons as "the Pond" that lies between England and The Colonies (that's us!).
• "Turas" = Irish word for "journey"
• "Firinne" = Old Irish word for "truth."

In addition, the first and last episodes of this current season are titled "SO" and "NS," the letters on two rings Jackson Teller wears on one hand, signifying the club.

How do you think these titles are reflected in the show? Share your thoughts.

DSO on motorcycles

The Detroit Symphony Orchestra has been on strike this fall season, when they should be busy performing. The issue centers on pay. Michigan Radio has been following the story.

Regardless of how you feel about the DSO taking a pay cut -- or the fact many of us have taken pay cuts in this crappy economy -- I do believe we should support the arts, as they enrich our humanity.

In honor of the DSO, I offer the following undated photo. I found this in the morgue (that's the archives, to you civilians) at The Oakland Press. It probably was sent sometime in the last six years to publicize a then-upcoming performance. On the back it says:

"The DSO Bassoon Section: Paul Ganson, Marcus Schoon, Bob Williams, Vicki King, featured in 'Hell's Angels' by Michael Daugherty. Photo credit: Glenn Triest."

I love it.

If you know anything more about it, feel free to comment.