This is the Memory palace.
I'm Nate DiMeo.
It is the freedom, right?
That is the thing about motorcycles.
The speed, sure, the agility, of course, but it is the freedom.
The person on the bike, on the Harley, on the highway, the cars,
the trucks stuck in traffic, but that biker weaving their way through faster, toward the open road.
The freedom of the open road.
The loner, the lone figure in the vastness of the desert landscape.
Or up the California coast, the wild Pacific, crashing redwoods.
That's the thing.
Advertisers know it.
A man on a motorcycle, a woman on a motorcycle could sell you a cigarette,
vacation, anything that feels like escape from whatever gridlock you have driven your life into.
Hollywood knows it has given us Marlon Brando, the wild one, Peter Fonda again and again.
A wild angel born to be that way.
See him, an easy rider on his chopper with Dennis Hopper American flag helmet.
An image once so counterculture cool, but at this point so American,
you could probably just swap it in for the flag itself.
Freedom itself.