The Fight of the Century

The Fight of the Century

Imagine being on a motorcycle trip through Turkey during a Trump-inspired war (of a sort) between Turkey and neighboring Syria. Now imagine being a very left-leaning liberal who has been struggling for several years to comprehend how America got to such a low-point as to actually elect a dolt like Trump to the highest office in the land, nay, the world. You find yourself amidst a group of close friends and motorcycle buddies that includes a Republican ex-governor of a major state who happens to be a billionaire, a Republican who is a rabid pro-Trumper who once got stiffed by the Donald on a construction job and now owns a toll bridge (not many people can say that), an ex-commodity trader worth a fortune who likes to shoot anything that moves and votes for any Republican who can make him richer, and a centamillionaire Harvard MBA who is an avid environmentalist but votes for Trump because he damn well doesn’t want anyone telling him what to do with his hard-earned money. The headcount on the trip indicates that we are 60% Trump supporters and 40% Trump haters. Like everything in the world these days, if the votes were distributed on dollars of net worth rather than headcount, the vote tipped further to about 99.5% pro-Trump.

Then imagine that your long-time international motorcycle tour guide and Turkish mover and shaker makes an amazing arrangement with his national tourism pals to make a magical night for the group as a thank-you for twenty years of patronage. He arranged for the Library of Celsus at Ephesus, an Ancient Greek city on the coast of Turkey where the Temple of Artemis sat occupying one of the seven spots on the list of the Wonders of the Ancient World with places like the Great Pyramid at Giza, the Colossus of Rhodes and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. This incredibly special place was specially lighted for us with a string quartet seated amongst the ruins playing for us while we were served a lovely and elegant catered dinner. The only word that adequately captures the feelings of the moment is “resplendent”.

Now by way of background, this motorcycle group is a group I started twenty-five years ago. None of the other four members that were on our founding ride in Southern Utah were with us in Turkey, but the Harvard MBA I mentioned became a member on the second ride. This group has grown and morphed over the years by all of the original members inviting other members to join. Almost all of us have added to the roster over the years and the only organizing principle has been diversity and inclusiveness. We have had a true cross-section of life on our rides, but it is fair to suggest that our international travel generally slants itself to the more financially prosperous members, and to a certain extent, the ones with more flexibility with their schedules. Two of our more recent members, added by one of the founding members who could not join in Turkey, but was both best friends with the Harvard MBA (having worked for and with him for many years) and on a public company board with one of these new members. To round out the scene, the new members are husband and wife who live in NYC and are as liberal and anti-Trump as any of us in the group.

Motorcycle riding is like any other activity, there are many different skill levels and everyone has his or her style of riding. Some riders are aggressive and their alpha nature makes them need to be as close to the head of the pack as they can possibly be. Others are passive and happy to be followers, especially in foreign lands where their familiarity with the terrain and language give them a high degree of trepidation. Some riders are very skilled and experienced with excellent and instinctive reaction capabilities. Others took to the sport later in life and never really developed the muscle memory to maneuver a motorcycle through a challenging set of circumstances. Some riders are always alert and where they need to be in any circumstance. Others are oblivious and are forever wrong-footing themselves and putting themselves, their pillion and other riders in harm’s way. While anyone in the group can make a mistake at any time and anyone can make a stupid pass at any time, there are members more prone to all that than others and we all more or less know who’s who.

There is no mincing words about the Harvard MBA, he took up the sport late in life and despite his intellect and success in life, he has tasted asphalt far, far more than anyone else in the group over the years. He is the guy everyone most worries about and watches out for. He has also, over the years, decided that he is best served by following closely behind me, wherever we are and whatever equipment we are riding. i long ago accepted this leadership role with him and always figures that as the overall group leader, it was my responsibility to try to keep him in as safe a place on the road as i could. I have generally believed that place is behind me though I occasionally follow him if he is feeling his oats and wants to be out ahead. The other new member is an excellent rider who is quite technical and capable, but certainly does have some alpha genes in his system which makes him ride aggressively. Riding in a group with people of different skill levels is always challenging, but after twenty-five years I believe I know how to manage all of that. The first rule is to try to keep your personal “I just want to be free” attitude in check and recognize that the safety of the group requires managing the diverse team on the road as the first priority. Not always easy and sometimes frustrating, but I’m here after twenty-five years to tell the tale and I have yet to taste asphalt on a ride or cause anyone to do likewise.

Back to the Library of Celsus on that lovely Turkish evening. After our dinner, Kim and I lagged behind the group only to have our Turkish tour guide rush up to me and tell me two of my members had gotten into a physical fight, much to the consternation of the Ephesus guards and staff. I had the incident described to me as a physical confrontation that ended with the new member on the ground and the Harvard MBA having had hands on him if not having pushed him down. The whole confrontation had taken place (perhaps with the aide of too much alcohol) over riding and passing styles during the day, the accusation of multiple cut-offs perpetrated by the new member against the less proficient Harvard MBA.

I tried the next morning to force an apology to clear the air and was told to go to Hell. The next week saw a continuous tension between the combatants that over the last eighteen months has not resolve itself. Now we are planning our first gathering since then (delays due to COVID) and the hostilities have flared since both combatants have planned to attend.

My assessment is quite simple, riding faux pas happen every day on the road and are easily disposed of with an apology and a shrug followed by a day of staying away from one another. But when hands are laid on (intentionally, accidentally, under the influence, or whatever) shit changes and pride and social ideals come into play and it takes a bigger effort to clear the air. But clearing the air gets harder with the passage of time. I believe it gets even harder with a national psyche advocated and exemplified by Trump tactics where admitting fault is a sign of weakness and the mantra of deny, deny, deny if given freedom to be enacted. I do not think this altercation was at all a random accident. I believe it is a sign of our times and it pits those who believe in say-anything, do-anything against the self-righteous who abhor power play politics and power play interactions. This little shove was heard round the world as far as I’m concerned and it represents the fight of the century we have before us.