It would seem that most of you have become a nation of Sheeple. Sheep-people.
|Sturgis was a lot better back in the eighties. Riding to Sturgis on your Harley was a pilgrimage and hadn't turned into a fad just yet whereas, in the nineties, everybody and their mother went out and bought a Harley and then decided to pretend they were bikers, trailering their overpriced bikes to Sturgis and then riding five miles outside of town from the campgrounds into town.
I rode my FLH across the states back in the eighties, and believe me, no restaurateur ever opened their doors for me, in fact, because of my leathers and long hair most restaurants, motels and bars slammed their doors closed in my face and threatened to call the cops if I didn’t leave. Back then it was pretty tough being a hungry, cold and tired bah-bah ‘biker’. Here's a for instance; Situated right outside of Houston, in Sugarland, Texas is a strip club called Sugar Babes. Well, there I was sipping on a warm beer, minding my own business when this huge Mexican bouncer came up to my table and told me I had to either leave or tie my hair back and remove my leather jacket from the bar. When I refused he bounced my butt out the door without giving me the courtesy of leaving my bubbly and bouncy waitress a tip. They didn’t care about me spending my hard earned dollars at their fine establishment or taking into consideration that my bike was my only means of transportation, for work and for play, and that I had no other means of getting around. To Sugar Babes, a strip joint, I was a ‘biker’ and I wasn’t welcome there or anywhere else for the most part.
My bike, was and still is a ’76 Electraglide. God didn't put it on this planet for me to go ‘joy-riding’ around on and my leather jacket wasn’t meant to be a fashion statement like what you see of the 99% of people today who are wearing them today. Riding, back and forth to work or down to the beach in Galveston, trading the good for the bad, the rain and the sunshine, was my life and I wasn’t ready to settle down just then and I’m still not sure if I am yet.
Another thing, back then, very few people had tattoos. I guess it’s because tats were actually meant to mean something to that person and he/she didn’t go out and get one because everybody else was doing it. You know, now days, all you people who have yourself tattoo’d up for no reason are called ‘tatters’, people who want to be different but don’t realize they’re all the same.
I’ve watched this whole crazy sheeple phenomenon grow since the nineties when people seemed to start following what other people were doing and quit being themselves. Today, you can't tell the fakes from the phonies. There are wanna-be ‘biker’ sheeple everywhere, driving pickup trucks they don’t need, riding Harley’s they can’t afford, arms, legs, chests, backsides covered in meaningless tattoo’s, sheeple wearing white framed sunglass, wearing khaki colored Cargo Shorts while they stroke their long beards standing in the heat at the gas station filling up their newly leased SUV hauling their $15,000 Polaris 4x4 in a home-made trailer. It’s hard not to bump into one everywhere you turn, the Home Depot, Sam’s Club, for Christ’s sake, even at church.
It’s sad to see what people have evolved into, a bunch of followers, sheep, sheeple. After you and several thousand other of you read this take look around, is the guy sitting next to you at the red light or who just walked into the bar/restaurant a sheeple, at work maybe, probably?
Nobody seems to think for themselves any more….
The quick transformation of having been a person once to turning into a sheeple has been bafflingly, incrediblly quick. One day there you are a self-thinking person, personable of one’s own inspirations and desires who starts following the latest fad (now you’ve turned into a sheep) who then follows another and another fad until you’ve turned into a sheeple and eventually turning into the Latin genus of the word “ignoramus-sheep-people”, or Sheople, sheeple now spelled with an ‘o’. (Meaning you have turned into a: Sheep + People; did you know that before looking where they are headed a sheep will follow another sheep right off a cliff. That’s why sheep need to have herding-dogs, to keep them from killing themselves).
Take a look in the mirror. What do you see? White sunglasses, tat’s, beard, pickup truck, motorcycle, Harley jacket, nose ring? You might’ve been a sheople all along and not even known it.
Anyhow…that’s why Sturgis was way better back then, when the strip wasn’t clogged with a bunch of a bunch of sheople doing what everybody else is doing, a little bit different, but still the same… walking off cliffs.
By the way, I’m sorry if you are a sheople and I hurt your feelings.
I keep having to tell myself that Sheople were people once and they have feelings too.