The Hawgs et mah Dinner

Somewhere from the archives I conjured up a picture of Marjorie Main calling to Percy Killbride, “Com’ an get yer dinner afore I throw it to the hawgs!” These two, Ma and Pa Kettle, were the quintessential hillbillies in the years of great silver screen movies and the sign at the side of the road saying HOG RALLY tied in nicely with the fact that there were no barbequed chickens or pizzas at the grocery store where I thought to pick up something quick for dinner.

It seems the HOGs had picked up all the fast food and I would have to settle for a salmon steak, but the fish too had all disappeared. I guess the Harley riders are as concerned about their diet as the rest of us. But to have so many motorcycles in town at one time more than made up for them eating my dinner.

Being a motorcycle rider myself, I was happy to get a chance to look at the many fancy machines that were parked everywhere around town. I drive what the Harley Owners Group refers to as a Japanese Wannabe in the form of a large Honda cruiser. It is a stock model without many of the after-market chrome add-ons that make Harleys look so great. That my bike will make enough noise to almost match the rumble of a Harley is little consolation when you hear the big twins from Milwaukee rolling down the road.

Not being a part of the Ontario HOG Rally, I thought I would go downtown, park my green machine and try to mingle with the visitors. I took a squirt can of oil to make a little puddle under the bike and got out my wrenches to pretend that I was adjusting something, but the ploy to look like a Harley owner fooled very few. I wore my leather skull cap even showed off my two modest tattoos, but I guess the Warriors and Tai Chi symbols just didn’t cut it either.

One thing was noticeable though and that was that the friendly people of North Bay were waving at me, no doubt thinking I was one of those rich HOGs who were spending so much money in our community. Bikers don’t carry much with them, preferring to use their plastic cards for all their travelling needs. I’m sure the Mayor’s Economic gurus have their calculators clicking out dollar signs of how much the rally brought to the city in economic terms.

But the sound of the bikes rumbling was as pleasant a music as you could find on Friday night. Not nearly as loud as the racket from the stage at the waterfront, and certainly unaccompanied by the screaming and shouting of profane lyrics, the motorcycles were a treat to my ears. I suppose it is a matter of taste. My generation had those obnoxious Beatles and Elvis to annoy our parents, this one has the likes of Billy Talent. Thankfully, there was real music on Main Street to entertain the HOGs or we might have had a ‘rumble’.

The decibel level of the ‘music’ coming from the sound stage could easily out-do the roar of the passing fighter jets at the former Airshow. Mercifully, there was a pause in the noise for the low-level fireworks display and time to usher the little kids and grandparents home before the entertainment began.

I wonder where the HOG Rally is being held next year. Maybe if I polished up the chrome I could stowaway in the line of riders as they motor through another Ontario town. My first stop would be at the local grocery store to get a barbecued chicken and salad.