Archive for January 13th, 2009
Cruising On My Scooter
In the world of automobiles, you have cars and trucks. In the world of motorcycles you have Harleys and crotch rockets. Standing way off to the side, behind a tree, over by the trash can, their’s the scooter.
For some reason the way we arrive to any location is incredibly important, regardless of the significance of the location and/or our business their. If you go to the store at four in the morning to buy your girlfriend some tampons, you look awesome doing it in a Hummer, whereas if you were in a Ford Fiesta you would be laughed at by the alley cats hiding in the bushes, (and nobody wants that).
The debate as to whether or not we need to arrive in style being credible or worth while, is not the topic of this blog. The only reason I reference it is because it’s pertinent to part of the reason scooters just don’t make you cool.
So that’s the first reason, it’s hard, (or rather impossible) to appease the shallow, material, and judgmental inhabits of “Stranger-Land” on a scooter. Please go buy a Lamborghini if you’d like to make me stare at and envy you.
The second reason is the sound. Nothing kills cool quite like the sound of “riding” something recreationally that sounds like a lawn care product. “Did someone just pull up on a weed whacker?”
Third is the look. Even though scooters have come a long way from the old school ‘70s models that were, for all practical purposes, bicycles, they still look very unstylish and just plain ugly. They need to revolutionize the look, go crazy, break out of the mold and do something daring.
Fourth, you don’t have to have a legitimate license to drive one, thus, it means children can do it. As we all know it’s hard, (or rather impossible) to be cool if a child can do it. You can’t be at a stop light, trying to flirt with some girl in a car, when a thirteen year old pulls up beside you. Ruins the moment, (trust me).
Finally, the name is the absolute deal breaker. Scooter? It sounds like a snotty nosed, unpopular kid, (or the luckiest criminal bastard ever… I’m talking to you Libby!). Even if you fancy yourself a hip, modern hippie who’s above “outward appearances” and “what people think of you” it’s impossible to go “hop on the scooter” and take off without people actually stopping to say, “Holy shit, what a dork.”
I own thirty seven scooters.
Egg On!
Ramblin’Rooster
