Murrin’s Musings
The Hidden Cost of Art

A college art professor whose name now escapes me once said “art is what moves your soul”.  Taken on its face this statement allows us to appreciate many mediums as art be they music, dance, pottery or metal sculpture; so long as when you see it you feel it deep within.  It can solicit passion, desire, deep thought or even just make you smile.  Nonetheless, by the ‘soul moving’ standard I challenge anyone even the non-biker to debate the converse.  In its basic sense, art is about appreciating someone else’s talent or developing your own.  As with all art, when acquiring it one needs to be mindful of the budget and be wary of its hidden costs.  Hidden costs, it’s just a motorcycle, right?

Those who know me know I am certainly no art snob.  No priceless masterpieces adorn the halls of my home.  The garage is a different story.  Inside the house it is more often crayons, play glue, dried flowers and popsicle sticks all concocted  with the childhood imaginations of my four and nine year olds.  To live a life lucky enough to hang your own kid’s finger paintings on the fridge is artful bliss.  A few Harleys in the garage just adds to the bliss.
 Motorcycles as an art form are a personal and subjective topic.  Vintage, modern, Italian, American, an infinite number of tastes are out there to be appreciated.  I cannot state that I am a die hard fan of the full fairing Ducatis or the sleek Aprilias that lay claim to be the ‘sexiest of motorcycles’.  Moto Guzzies, ugly – Big three from Japan, yea fast but cookie cutter.  For me I think it is a bit more function over form.  I like things mechanical.  I like seeing movement - clunking, chugging, shifting, clanking, beautiful movement.  The snort of a big twin evokes wanderlust to ride.  An opposed twin BMW is my iron butt choice but not an exhaust note that moves anyone’s soul.  Perhaps this appreciation of uncluttered mechanics comes from my father, a man’s man who said of things mechanical, “The weakest link WILL break, fix it right the first time and NEVER buy cheap tools!”  When it comes to Panhead ownership, truer words were never spoken.
It is perhaps for this reason that Harley-Davidson has been the purest art in the motorcycle genre for me.  I’ve owned more reliable bikes, faster bikes, and cheaper bikes.  However, I’ve not stuck my head into the garage before heading to bed as often just to LOOK at those others.  I’ve not turned and stared after walking 10 or 15 yards away in a parking lot just to enjoy its appearance.  I’ve not taken as many pictures of the others to file away in my scrapbook that maybe someday someone (a long time from now) will lay out on a table at my wake for my friends to flip through and reminisce of dead me and a lifetime of artful bikes.  Steve Shore said it best “No other bike looks better leaning over on a kickstand than a Harley”
All things considered it is not the fine running ‘Twin Cam’ nor the ground breaking ‘Evo’ that moves my soul though I’ve owned and enjoyed both motors on a variety of bikes.  I’ve always considered the Panhead the most recognizable Harley-Davidson engine ever made for obvious reasons.  Produced between 1948 and 1965, it replaced the Knucklehead and sold originally for less than a thousand clams.  Mine, an FL sport solo with a foot shift and hand clutch (an oddity in 1952 and the first year it became standard) sold for exactly $970.00.         Despite seeming an object of ancient history it was produced until I was a year old!  Engine choices were either 61 or 74 cubic inches which were very large bore for the time.  You could choose from six standard colors. The company sold a whopping 5,554 Panheads in various configurations.  My Pan seen in the photo below is a 1952 model restored by Jimmy O’Brien of Slim’s Customs in Atlanta in the classic 1950’s ‘bobber’ style.  The finished product moved my soul sufficiently to spend the dough on the professional photo shoot once Jimmy breathed life back into her.  Corny author pose notwithstanding, the shots of the bike produced some great images that I think are truly art.
Excepting the occasion when my pant leg gets sucked into the velocity stack shutting me down mid shift or the one time while cruising down 400 I accidentally touched the exposed rear plug cap fumbling with the petcock and almost welded my penis to the seat it is a stellar bike.  It garners thumbs up everywhere I go and means instant respect in every parking lot.  Especially upon start up where a few carefully orchestrated and dramatic kicks are required to fire the ‘kick only’ motor, just like back in the day.  Any missteps in the starting sequence and it’s time to sit and wait 20 minutes while all dries out.  I don’t plan on winning any races or for that matter always being on time for Yvonne’s wild rice and baked lemon chicken but sometimes art does have a hidden cost.
Well, signing off for now.  Remember, ride hard, ride safe, and when life lets you, ride full throttle.