“Why you wearing that Raider gear?” My friends who are die hard Dolphin fans would ask me.
“Cause Oakland is a tough town.” That was always my answer. I think that’s why a lot of people still wear Raider gear worldwide. Oakland IS a tough town.
It was pretty cool to land with a custom chopper and a custom FXR.
I had my head on straight with my sight set on the prize. Even with all the money making skills I brought with me, I wanted a forty hour a week job.
I know what it’s like to sit in the tattoo shop and wait for a customer to walk in and spend money, sometimes for weeks. I had my glass shop set up but making sure I had my money for anything, any run I wanted to go on or if my bike broke or whatever came my way I wanted to be ready. So I got a job painting houses for a real cool guy who let me do my job and gave me enough space to achieve my personal goals. He had been in Oakland for years and had seen many people come and go and he knew how tough life can be. I painted houses the first year there forty hours a week.
I knew for sure I didn’t want to get in any relationship. That would be way too complicated to deal with. This was my second time around the brothers. I didn’t think I would get three so I had to make this work.
I went everywhere on my bike. I bought a flat bed 1952 Chevy pickup as soon as I got to Oakland and slammed it to the ground. It had a .327 engine in it and I used it to haul stuff in it on the side. If it wasn’t raining I was on my bike and sometimes even if it was. I wanted the brothers to always see me on my bike.
When I got to Oakland the longest living brothers still alive in the world were there. And there was a whole bunch of young brothers popping wheelies on Harleys that wanted to be a brother just like me. It is in Oakland’s culture.
There is a real lot of motorcycle riding going on in Northern California. Oakland is in Alameda County, which is the third largest county in the country. It’s like the Wild Wild West in Oakland California.
They guys that I started riding with could really ride well. We would ride in the tightest formation possible, weaving in and out of traffic at ninety. All that riding in Holland was paying off. You have to be confident in the man you are riding next to when he is an inch off your wheel. I was confident.
It was exactly like summer camp. That’s how I used to describe it. You are with all your buddies, you got a bunch of counselors and you are all doing fun activities. Sounds like summer camp to me.
One of the Brothers who had been around for decades lived down the block from me. He was as wild as any man I ever met. He had a son named Will and we became the best of friends. For as wild as the dad was the son was absolutely chill. I can safely say he was the coolest person I ever met in my life.
Chilly Will. That’s what we called him. Young Will. Little Will. He had a bunch of names. It depended on how you knew him. Once you knew him good enough you were family. He was always introducing everyone as his ‘Uncle’ or his ‘Aunt” or Cousin. Some people have friends. Will had family everybody else was just an acquaintance.
When I first got to Oakland, Will ran everywhere with his next door neighbor named Korn. They were as thick as thieves. The best of friends. Will lived in a house with his dad and this big Rottweiller named James. Korn lived next door with his wife and three kids and his Aunt. I lived down the block. Not a day went by that I didn’t see those two cruising around, laughing seeing what trouble the could get into. Will was always up for everything. Whatever was coming his way he was ready.
Will grew up motorcycling and could ride a wheelie for blocks. He was probably riding about the time he could walk. At the first party I was ever at he did a wheelie show up and down the boulevard with another brother for the crowd. The street was lined with folks on both sides like they were watching a parade.
I don’t think anyone really knows what happened, but Will’s friend Korn got a motorcycle and started riding around town. He must have been the victim of a hit and run within the first few weeks of owning his bike. Some guy in a big pink Cadillac hit him and killed him. We figured out it was the guy in the big Pink Cadillac because he was found a few exits further down the highway beaten to death laying in his car. Someone must have seen it and followed him. That’s Oakland. That’s Street Justice in its purest form. I definitely felt at home in Oakland.
76
I left my house with enough time to get gas. We were about to go on the road for over a month and ride to Wyoming for a big run and then to Sturgis South Dakota for a big motorcycle rally. It was going to be over a month on the road and I was excited.
I brought a hundred dollars for each day then an extra thousand just in case anything breaks on my bike. This was before I ever bought that extended warranty. I had never owned a brand new bike fresh off the showroom floor so I never bought the warranty. I didn’t even know about it. I thought it was only for new bikes. Now I can’t live without it.
I was already getting a name for just making it on time so I didn’t want to be late. I got my gas and got back on the road. I got stuck at a light that just wouldn’t change. I probably didn’t weigh enough to trip the pad so I ran the light. Then I ran the next stop sign. Then the next one. Then I saw the red lights flashing in my mirror. There wasn’t anywhere to go so I pulled over. Once in a while it’s fun to let them chase you for a bit, but now was not one of those times.
I started to pull out my license and insurance. A real old cop walked up to me.
“You know why I pulled you over?”
“Yes sir.”
“You ran a stop light and two stop signs. What’s the rush son?”
“Going to meet my friends. Go for a ride.”
“You all going to go to Sturgis?”
“Thinking about it.”
“I remember when them boys just started out. I been here since the beginning.”
He looked around and took a big breath.
“Get out of here. Don’t run any more lights, ok?”
“Yes sir.”
I jumped back on my bike and took off. That’s what It’s like in Oakland. The brothers are part of the mystery of the town. And that’s cool.
I pulled up just as everyone was taking off and I fell into formation. We would ride like that from sun up to sun down gas tank to gas tank every day. Just like synchronized swimming, only faster on the pavement. It’s cool when the best part of the trip is getting there. But you have to be a motorcycle enthusiast to feel that way. Not everyone is.
About three days into the trip we were riding somewhere near Omaha. It was about ten in the morning and we had already had our breakfast stop. It was sunny and dry and we were really moving fast on this two lane road. A real back country road with nothing but corn fields on either side. The road moved up and down and when you were in the ditch you couldn’t see what was over the next hump in front of you. That didn’t matter to me because I was the last guy in back. I was riding next to another guy who had recently decided he wanted to be in this family and was going to try and make it.
That’s a very big decision. It’s all about the time you put in. If you can relax and realize you are home, that these are your brothers, you are right where you are supposed to be, then everything will work out. As long as I remembered that this is forever then it didn’t matter how long getting to forever would take.
We were clipping around ninety miles an hour on this two lane road when we came up out of a valley and the road straightened out. No more hills and Valleys. We really hit the throttle. We took a big wide turn and on the left of the road was what was left of a small town. A tornado had just passed through a few hours earlier and left nothing but splinters. There was nothing standing taller than your waist. The people were all picking through their belongings when we came flying past. We slowed down and we looked at them and they stopped picking up their stuff and watched us go by. It was a surreal moment. I was the last one in the pack so I saw the whole thing. As we passed they went right back to salvaging their stuff. It put a lot in pe
rspective for me. These people just lost everything and I am racing down the highway chasing my dream. It made me realize again it could all be over at any minute.
We went to a big run where I met brothers from all over the United States. Some brothers I knew from Holland also showed up which was cool to see. I was one of the tattooeers that was putting on the run tattoo, so I met and got to know even more brothers. It felt great to be the crew from California. It felt great to have stuck with it.
We left the run after three days and rode to Sturgis South Dakota. I had never been to a Sturgis Motorcycle rally before. I had been to a bunch of Daytona’s and Biketoberfest but not Sturgis. If you have been to one then you know what it’s all about. I had never been to one of these events with the brothers. Which was different because these guys are treated like the rock n roll stars from the street. Me and the young brothers were always waiting for anyone to get out of line. I used to get off my bike and look around and think, ‘Who is my gift? Who has been sent here to get knocked out so I can show the brothers what I am made of. That was how I thought. No one told me to think that way. And it was never too long until someone stepped up to answer the call. It was almost as if they would tap me on the shoulder and say, ‘Excuse me I know you are busy but can you knock me out?’ I always obliged.
After thirty six days on the road and I was dreaming about sleeping in my own bed. We rode through a few states in a pack of about ten guys from Sturgis until the split, which is where anyone who is going North goes North and anyone who is going south goes South. Everyone except me and one of the brothers were going South. We were going back to the bay area alone. We said goodbye and went in the store to pay for our gas. When we e came out of the store. The sky was black.
“I hope you brought your rain gear.” He said as he pointed down the highway we were just about to get on. The sky was as black as can be which would have been fine but it was only one in the afternoon. It was one of the worst rain storms I had ever seen.
“We can’t wait it out?” I asked him. I once again had a really shitty set of rain gear.
“Nope. I gotta get back to work. Besides, it might rain for days.” He said while he put on his rain suit. He found the whole thing funny. I had an old set of rain gear that I had brought from Holland. I almost never used it. It had duct tape on the leg where it had been burned from the exhaust pipe. I had a half shell helmet and a bandana so the rain felt like it was tearing my face off. The brother I was with had a full face helmet and a state of the art rain suit.
“Gotta be prepared.” He said as we took off into the blackness of the rain storm. Lucky for us we only got the side of it. The highway we were on veered to the left out of the storm.
“Lucky you.” He said at the next gas stop when we were putting the rain suits back.
Riding across the country on a motorcycle is something every man should do at least once. For some of us that’s once a year.
When I got back t Oakland I got invited to a movie premiere from John my movie producer friend. It was down in Hollywood so I brought the young brother I was staying with and we went down to see John’s new film.
This was pretty exciting for me, I had become great friends with John and this was the premiere of his newest film. He treated us like Kings. That was the first time I ever stood on the red carpet. It was at that famous Chinese theatre where they show all the new big films. Every seat in the place was taken it was standing room only. I would look around and see all kinds of stars but the thing I noticed was how everyone treated the brother I brought with me. Like he was the star. That made a big impression on me. Being at this movie premiere made me think that any dream is there for the taking, no matter how big. When I got home I took out the script John had put notes on and started a re write.
77
You never know what day is the day you will be called upon, but one thing for sure it’s probably going to start out like any other day. When you are waiting to be called in and to be recognized and accepted into a family every day is pretty damn exciting. Being that day could be the day. Any day at all you just never know.
When you work at one thing for a few years of your life, no matter what it is, it’s a rewarding feeling. It was for me. There is no greater feeling then the love you have in your heart when you are finally recognized and accepted into a family. I was now part of a world wide family, with brothers everywhere. Free airport pick up, free airport drop off, a place to stay, a bike to ride with other brothers when I get there. That’s what it like in a Brotherhood. I had seen it for years, brothers getting picked up at airports being greeted by brothers they had never met, and acting like they grew up in the same house. Like REAL brothers do.
As soon as I became a brother, one of the older brothers loaned me twenty five grand and I stopped painting houses and starting building a tattoo shop. I was still tattooing on the side, another brother told me I could set up in his building so I built a five station shop. Will helped me build it.
Will had become my best friend. Breakfast lunch and dinner, we did it together. I was travelling all over and Will starting going with me. Everywhere. My day would start with the phone ringing about six a.m.
“I’m outside.” Will would say. I would hurry up and get out there. As soon as I got in the car it would start.
“Let’s get coffee.”
“After we drop the kids off.” That was Will. He picked up where Korn left off. A lot of people said it, but Will did it. He picked Korns kids up every day and dropped them off at school. Then we would go get coffee.
“What you wanna do today?”
“Make shit happen. We in the make it happen business. Today and every day”
“Well I’m going to Vegas today.” I said.
“Correction. We are going to Vegas today. We can take my truck.” We left right then, straight from the parking lot. Will was spontaneous.
There was some brothers on trial in Las Vegas so I went there to show support. I used to travel everywhere with my camera. I still had the film bug. I was still writing for the magazine every month, and writing scripts in my spare time. I wanted to go to the porn convention and make a film for one of the older brothers in the room. Not a porno movie. One of the brothers was a teamster and he got me and Will in the convention. I was walking around the convention floor with this big camera in my hand. I would walked up to any one of the porn stars.
“Excuse me. Can I pass my camera by you and when it passes you can you say, ’Hey Cisco. Wish you were here.’”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“You don’t want me to get naked.”
“No. Just wave. Or blow him a kiss or something.”
“No problem.” I collected about thirty different ‘Hello’s’ and I figured I had enough to make a short film for Cisco. I knew he would dig it. I was on the way out and I figured I better capture some ‘B’ roll. B roll is what I would cut in between the porn stars saying hello. Basically it was just going to be shots of the convention floor with the crowd and the lines of people waiting for autographs. The porn convention is like any other convention except they sell porn stuff. It’s probably not what you think. There might be some wild parties at night but on the convention floor, it’s all business.
Me and Will hung out until the convention closed then we got invited to a penthouse magazine party, in the penthouse of some big hotel. There were a few brothers there from all over and a bunch of cage fighters and porn stars. MMA was just starting to get big at this point. A real big guy walked in the door. He was huge, about six eight and four hundred pounds. He was passing the bar and he looked at one of the brothers who was equally just as big.
“I bet I could kick your ass.”
The brother put his drink down.
“Let’s go. I’ll give you a shot at the title right now.” The brother said real serious.
“I’m only kidding.” The big civilian said.
“I’m not. Let’s go. Right
now.” The brother said who was now standing in a fighting stance ready to go. The big civilians lip started to quiver. He stood there frozen.
“I don’t want any trouble.” He said full of fear.
“That’s what I thought.” The big brother said. “Better watch what you say and who you say it to.”
A few hours went by. Me and Will hung out in the back of the penthouse apartment with the brothers. The apartment was huge, a Las Vegas penthouse what did I expect? The living room itself was as big as a football field. Will spent the night talking to Ron Jeremy and two porn stars doing lines on a piano. In the middle of the rom was a whole bunch of couches with porn stars and cage fighters sitting watching old matches on the TV. I was standing next a few brothers when the big civilian guy walked past me and up to the big brother who was sitting in a chair relaxing.”
“I still think I can kick your ass.” He said and he took a swing at the big brother. I couldn’t believe it. He must have been drunk or didn’t like being put in his place earlier.
“That’s it.” The big brother said. But before he could get up I jumped on the guy from behind and put him in a backwards head lock and started dragging him out of the penthouse. The whole party froze. The guy was way bigger than me but I had him in a real good choke hold. He was on his heels and I made sure his head hit every post and table on the way out. As I got to the door the doorman opened it and I threw the guy in the hall. Before he could get the boots I got pulled back in the penthouse.
“That’s enough.” One of the other brothers said.
“Good job.” Said another. I felt great. And I had only been in the family about a month.
We hung out there until the dawn then got back in the truck and drove back to Oakland. A few days later after I had edited the film I went by the house. I walked in and saw some brothers watching TV.
Becoming A Son Page 38