Don't Worry, Hell's Angels: I'm Not Man Enough to Hang With You . ..

Updated on February 8, 2019
kenneth avery profile image

I was born in the south. I live in the south and will die in the south. This is only a small part of the memories I share.

Member of Hell's Angels wearing The Colors.
Member of Hell's Angels wearing The Colors. | Source

Hell's Angels

If you think you need a better deal why don't you just take one

Like the Hell's Angels

Put your foot down, let's get out of this town

Fancy seeing all of you here, well I don't know

Fancy seeing all of you here

Dressed up in your government gear, paying taxes

Never thought you'd make it to here

Hell's angels

If you think you need a better world why don't you just make one

Like the Hell's Angels

Live your own law, lick your own paw

Fancy seeing all of you slugs, well I don't know

Once Upon a Time in America

when World War II was over, many soldiers rolled home to mold a life with their wife and kids. That was one side of the coin. There was another segment of the story and that was a certain few of these soldiers (with pent up rage) started to ride their motorcycles, party with their buddies, and for the most part, live FREE or die. I can appreciate that. Who wouldn't want a care-free life like that? Think about it. You hop over your hogg, ride to Tulsa with the wind flowing through your thick hair and beard and no one of the Civilized American Family would dare ask one question about you. I wouldn't today and I am 65 (mostly hard) years old.

Marlon Brando, Robert Mitchum, and mostly Sonny Barger, who did the ground work on forming Hell's Angels, I just offered Brando and Mitchum who have offered up their share of raising Hades, starting fist fights with brass knucks, drinking all of the alcohol that a small town in Phoenix could stock, and live to tell about it far down the highway next morning, and when the newly-formed Hell's Angels were rolling down into another town where the citizens (on the sidewalks) were so shocked at the sight of these burly, husky, muscle-bound guys who could beat-up a Peterbilt, that they said nothing and ran home.

First of all, for you readers and friends, let me be clear. Hell's Angels is NOT a motorcycle gang, but a motorcycle CLUB, or meeting, but NOT Hell's Angels the product of film and beaten foe and posters on sale in the lobby. I can give you this free advice about knowing the difference in a GANG and CLUB because I would not want your little boy, "Tony," age four, to be holding your hand and when a Hell's Angel member stamps out of the Food Giant, the little tyke WON'T say in perfect baby jive: "look, mama! There goes a motorcycle "GANG member. Can I be a Hellish Angel," because the Hell's Angel Motorcycle CLUB Member is now going to beat you senseless.

Again. There is the one failure in my failing to explain Gang and Club and I am not being facetious. I am not being a smart alec, but someone who fears such a man and woman and that is a Hell's Angel member--and if your brother-in-law or "Uncle Jake," who has stayed away from the family for six years, then shows up wearing black leather, a band across his long hair, and chaps like those drovers wear on a cattle drive, well, guess who is going to chow down with the family? A hint: It is not "Aunt Pearl," who lives in Peoria, Ill.

Seriously: My Hero, Hunter S. Thompson

not only wrote a best-selling book about the Hell's Angels, but lived with a CLUB with them for over a year. To me, that took nerves of steel. Mind you, Thompson is no mambypamby man with a .357 Magum because he knows which end of a gun goes blam. I read some of his book and it was more graphic than anything Hustler ever published, except those X-Rated photos with a black bar over the models' eyes.

But it was not Thompson's book that drew me to not want to leave home with I turned 18 to join Hell's Angels, it was the mere fact that I was a square when it come to being in with the "In Crowd," (e.g. Ramsey Lewis), and right off, a square peg will not fit comfortably into a round Club of motorcyclists who spend every weekend riding and when within the law, drink a little beer or a lot and stay to themselves. At the time where I was 18, I would have asked one of the Angels to teach me how to drink booze and that way, at least I could "act" like a man.

But if I passed their brutal initiation . . .and was one of the Angels' hierarchy would sit me down and ask: Were you in Vietnam, and the jig would be over. Cold sweat would trail down my trembling lips, and remark (very frightened): I only signed up to be drafted for Vietnam, but my dad served in WWII. And if I were to ask them about my dad's service, I would carry another butt-beating for asking such an ignorant question. So it would be proper for me to keep my mouth closed.

After Three Laborious Years

I would be dragged with the Hell's Angels "CLUB," on one of their fanciful outings. It was the times when the Angels would let me go with them to a road house so they could get really drunk and let me tell the cops (if some idiot who knew little enough to summon them inside the road house) that the Angels' members were only defending themselves by grasping the sharp broken whiskey bottles and putting them into the legs. Then I would put the icing on the cake my saying, if they had not acted in self-defense, the road house bullies might have taken their lives. And me? I looked pretty honest when I was 21, so the cops took my report on face value and left.

Not one. And I mean not one Hell's Angels lifted a finger to say something supportive about me. Talk about selfish. I didn't know that a Hell's Angel was so seflish. That wouldn't all. After the road house crowd has settled down, the band leader, one Mr. Knife Blade and the Sharp Edges, who were good for a laugh, left the stage on the instruction of one of the managing Angel and demanded that I get up on the stage, sing a few rounds of "Your Cheating Heart," "You Win Again,"and "Jambalaya," while the Angels all laughed at me until they cried. The road house crowd were so intimated by these rowdy lawbreakers that they too cried their eyes out--and a few lucky guests were smart enough to leave before the Angels beat them within an inch of their lives.

Yes, life on the road, and on the run is dangerous—especially if you are trying to hang with Hell’s Angels. And I can suppose that inside the thinking of the managing Angels, those who call the shots, that they can treat their Angels members, CLUB Members, (not going to make that mistake) in such a way that living from outside of the law in almost every way is a way of life for them.

And at my journey’s end while I am been writing (with a deep wonder) about how it would Really be for me to be a member of Hell’s Angels, I cannot put it in so many words—not that I would lie. No, sir. Even the Hell’s Angels do not lie—not to each other and not to rival motorcycle CLUBS. The only lying from the Angels would be to “Johnny Law,” and that would be easy to do—especially if they were hauled off from one of their CLUB houses and question them for some drug that didn’t go down right or something just as flimsy.

No, ladies and gentlemen, I can say right here and now with a clear conscience that I will not EVER ride, hang out with, or even try to be like the members of Hell’s Angels. What I CAN do is show them the same respect that I would to any of the forms of life that Our Creator put here on earth.

Isn’t that enough?

February 8, 2019___________________________________

Riding in the wind . . .
Riding in the wind . . . | Source

Questions & Answers

    © 2019 Kenneth Avery


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      • profile image

        Ken Avery 

        7 months ago

        Mr. Happy . . .I have to agree with you on Harleys, yes, those big ones with a motor that shakes the ground. I have a cousin, a 74 Sportster with Windshield, Saddlebags, the works, but he seldom rides because his wife's health is not good.

        And as usual . . .thank you Much for the nice comment, and listen. Please write a book about YOUR life.

      • profile image

        Ken Avery 

        7 months ago

        Hi, GH: To emphasize how Much I Appreciate your comment read this: "THANK YOU!" All caps means I am yelling thank you.

        Honest and write soon.

      • profile image

        Ken Avery 

        7 months ago

        Doris, Dear Friend --- thanks for the very sweet comment and the part about the "Over The Hill Gang," I loved that. But with my health, the only thing about a motorcycle is watching it roll with a younger man or girl.

        You be sure and have a safe night.

      • MizBejabbers profile image

        Doris James MizBejabbers 

        7 months ago from Beautiful South

        Guess the only thing I knew about Hell's Angels was what I saw in the movies. When I met my husband, a Vietnam era veteran (and former company man) at age 38, he wore a black leather jacket and rode a huge motorcycle. I mention his age because he'd just got back from taking his little daughter on a motorcycle tour of the west. They'd joined up with motorcycle "club" of elder folks called "The Over the Hill Gang" and had the time of their lives. Made me want to go. Maybe at 65 or 66, they are more your style, Dear Kenneth. Check 'em out.

      • Georgie Lowery profile image

        GH Price 

        7 months ago from North Florida

        The only experience I have with motorcycle clubs is watching all seven seasons of Sons of Anarchy three times, but I wanted to leave a note to say I really enjoyed your Hub. Keep writing dude!

      • Mr. Happy profile image

        Mr. Happy 

        7 months ago from Toronto, Canada

        I got a lot of respect for the HAs. To begin with, I love motorcycles, the Harley types too, not the tiny crotch rockets that the Japanese make. Naa, I like these chrome beasts! Maybe it's an inferiority defect: I'm a pretty small fella but I like huge, monstrous motorcycles.To be honest, I probably couldn't even make a turn on some of those bikes. I just don;t have the weight to put into the turn.

        I got respect for these dudes though. I never worked directly with them but that's just because of the heat they drag behind. Otherwise, I'm cool beans with the way they seem to run the show.

        I remeber when they came into my province (Ontario), in the 90s and they rounded-up all the small motorcycle "clubs" and more, or less made them join them, things changed. Everything worked great. Maurice "Mom" Bouchard was President of the Montreal Chapter and being the next provice over, what happens in Quebec always influences what happens here in Ontario. I was happy though. Those days the HAs worked with the Italians and man ... ya, good days, little violence. Almost everyone was happy. That's at least my perspective. I do know that the Rock Machines, the Satan's Choice and other "clubs" were not as happy but for me what mattered at that time, was that the underground economy ran smoothly and it did for the most part.

        I got respect for these dude because for the most part, they got each other's back. Everyone can respect that attitude, I'd say. I smile when they pass. I'll always respect their dedication and brotherhood and I don;t really care to hear about negative stuff. We all have negative stuff we can talk about. When's the last time You caught a beating by the HAs? Never. When did I? Never. So there ya go: we're all good. Why do people complain? "Loud Pipes Save Lives!"

        I've done a lot of drugs in my life; different kinds too and I can say in all honesty, that being on a motorcycle, riding down the road is the best high ever! Nothing beats it.

        Now, I'm sorry for Hunter catching a beating. That was unfortunate. I really don;t want to try to get into the politics. I wasn't there and all I have are different perspectives, from different people. I'm not judging here.

        "Were you in Vietnam, and the jig would be over." - No, come on. Haven't You learned? You just gotta say You have "bone-spurs" and You're good to go.

        Back to the HAs. They had some issues it seems here in Ontario. Smaller groups broke off and we're back to a multitude of colours riding around. I'm cool with that too. As long as we respect each other, I'm always cool.

        Just last week I was looking at making a donation of sorts. I donate regularly to different groups and causes. So, it's not really a donation but I found a website for the Rochester Hells Angels Chapter 81 which sells merchandise and I figured that's a good way to support a cause and get something back too, like a t-shirt.

        Here, this is good to know for everyone: "HELLS ANGELS do not sell or give away anything with the name Hells Angels or our Death Head logo on it. Any such item is counterfeit. Having or displaying any such item by anyone other than a Hells Angel could be hazardous to your health as not everyone likes Hells Angels." -

        Okay, enough of me. It's way past my get ready to hit the road time. 'twas fun while it lasted! Thanks for this piece of writing. RIP Hunter! For the rest of us, still battling this thing called life: Best of Luck!


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