How I Became a Gypsy by Alduro
July/20/2011 Filed in: Hangarounds and Prospects | Member Profiles
Almost two years ago my dad joined a motorcycle club and I’ll admit I was curious as to “why” and somewhat concerned all at the same time. My dad kept calling his club a “family club” which originally meant nothing to me at all, all I knew was they wore matching vests, patches and looked pretty much like what I thought a “biker” was supposed to look like. I had visions of going to the county jail and bailing him out or I’d try to picture what he would look like with a black eye after a street fight. Honestly I had no idea what he had gotten into. After many lengthy conversations with him regarding his club my eyes were opened to the reality vs. perception of what a motorcycle club is, what it is not and most importantly the differences between the various types of clubs out there.
After a while I finally had the opportunity to meet some of the guys from his club and they seemed pretty cool but most of all I could tell that they really watched out for each other which really made an impression upon me. It also made me feel better about him being a part of that group. From the outside looking in, it appeared to me that they accepted him as an extension of their natural family which I found intriguing. Later that weekend we (my dad and guys from his club) all rode together to a rally and after swapping BS stories and generally hanging out I decided that…
A. I was tired of riding alone all the time and…
B. This “brotherhood” thing was something that I wanted to learn more about…
Now I’m not generally the type of guy who could be called a “socialite” nor am I the kind of guy who is generally given to following a crowd. I was not a Frat boy in college, I do not generally associate myself with organizations (political or otherwise) and am generally suspicious of organized social or fraternal groups as a whole (for example I have no idea what a Lion’s Club is). Add to that I’m not overly good at maintaining relationships and probably am one of the more independent souls on the planet, so it was something of a change in gears for me to decide to join a club. Needless to say it really threw a curve ball at my wife and she had to take what I’d like to call a “period of adjustment” to get used to the idea.
The funny thing is I knew I wanted to be in a club before I had ever heard of a Gypsy or the Gypsy MC. A friend and I scouted several clubs, we hung out with them, bombarded them with asinine questions and had several very in depth conversations with each other about what we were looking for and which clubs best fit that description. We knew for example that joining a 1% club was just not something consistent with our lifestyles or priorities. We also knew that whatever we did we did not want to be isolated from our families. After a while my dad and a few other folks mentioned the Gypsys in passing. At first I didn’t really pay much attention, I just threw the name “Gypsy” onto the stack of other clubs we were looking at, but every time we mentioned the name “Gypsys” to someone familiar with the MC culture they had nothing but good things to say, and this happened a lot. Everybody seemed to like and respect the Gypsys even the people in other clubs. Soon my curiosity was piqued and I had to find out more. There wasn’t much on the internet at the time but I did dig up the email address of a guy called “Tiny” in Dallas who invited us to stop by the Big-D club house sometime. A few weeks later I and two of my friends did just that. We pulled up to the Big D Chapter clubhouse after seeing a few Gypsys going inside. We stood outside for a few minutes just shooting the bull and working up the courage to go in, because we knew virtually nothing about this club, only that they wore gold vests, a lot of bikers we knew liked them, there seemed to be a lot of them and that the music coming from inside the building was loud. Finally I drew the short straw and entered the door first. It seemed a lot like that scene out of PeeWee Herman’s Big Adventure when he walks into a biker bar for the first time. We timed it perfectly, the band had just played the last note of a song and there was utter silence just long enough to hear the door slam behind us so that everyone in the building turned to look at us at the exact same time. Man there was a lot of Gypsys… I busied myself noting the number of people between me and the nearest exit when someone at the bar interrupted my line of thinking by asking “can we help you?”
My friends and I looked at each other with that “deer in the headlights” expression and then I blurted out “Tiny invited us”. I hoped they would believe me and thankfully they did.
“TINY!!!” someone bellowed across the room. Of course the guy that approached was anything but tiny. A friendly enough guy but big. He shook my hand and introduced himself to me and my friends and after asking where we were from he introduced us to some Gypsys that had a chapter near where we lived. That’s the first time I met Compass and Fishtail of the Grapevine Chapter.
To make a long story short we hung out with the Grapevine Chapter folks for a while and soon I felt that this was the right club for me. Shortly thereafter I became a prospect and learned even more than before about the Gypsy MC, what being in a club meant and what I could expect from them and they expected of me. After patching in my first run was the Monty Mann in San Antonio. That was the first time I really felt like I was part of something far bigger (and cooler) than I had originally thought. I knew there were a lot of Gypys but I had never hung out with over 200+ friends, brothers and sisters all wearing the same colors, going to the same place in a pack and just having a great time in general. I knew the people in my chapter were the best folks I had ever ridden with but it wasn’t until I met others in the club that I found out why…it’s the culture of the club that they are a part of, that I’m a part of. I’ll take care of them, they’ll take care of me and ultimately that’s what it’s all about.
A. I was tired of riding alone all the time and…
B. This “brotherhood” thing was something that I wanted to learn more about…
Now I’m not generally the type of guy who could be called a “socialite” nor am I the kind of guy who is generally given to following a crowd. I was not a Frat boy in college, I do not generally associate myself with organizations (political or otherwise) and am generally suspicious of organized social or fraternal groups as a whole (for example I have no idea what a Lion’s Club is). Add to that I’m not overly good at maintaining relationships and probably am one of the more independent souls on the planet, so it was something of a change in gears for me to decide to join a club. Needless to say it really threw a curve ball at my wife and she had to take what I’d like to call a “period of adjustment” to get used to the idea.
The funny thing is I knew I wanted to be in a club before I had ever heard of a Gypsy or the Gypsy MC. A friend and I scouted several clubs, we hung out with them, bombarded them with asinine questions and had several very in depth conversations with each other about what we were looking for and which clubs best fit that description. We knew for example that joining a 1% club was just not something consistent with our lifestyles or priorities. We also knew that whatever we did we did not want to be isolated from our families. After a while my dad and a few other folks mentioned the Gypsys in passing. At first I didn’t really pay much attention, I just threw the name “Gypsy” onto the stack of other clubs we were looking at, but every time we mentioned the name “Gypsys” to someone familiar with the MC culture they had nothing but good things to say, and this happened a lot. Everybody seemed to like and respect the Gypsys even the people in other clubs. Soon my curiosity was piqued and I had to find out more. There wasn’t much on the internet at the time but I did dig up the email address of a guy called “Tiny” in Dallas who invited us to stop by the Big-D club house sometime. A few weeks later I and two of my friends did just that. We pulled up to the Big D Chapter clubhouse after seeing a few Gypsys going inside. We stood outside for a few minutes just shooting the bull and working up the courage to go in, because we knew virtually nothing about this club, only that they wore gold vests, a lot of bikers we knew liked them, there seemed to be a lot of them and that the music coming from inside the building was loud. Finally I drew the short straw and entered the door first. It seemed a lot like that scene out of PeeWee Herman’s Big Adventure when he walks into a biker bar for the first time. We timed it perfectly, the band had just played the last note of a song and there was utter silence just long enough to hear the door slam behind us so that everyone in the building turned to look at us at the exact same time. Man there was a lot of Gypsys… I busied myself noting the number of people between me and the nearest exit when someone at the bar interrupted my line of thinking by asking “can we help you?”
My friends and I looked at each other with that “deer in the headlights” expression and then I blurted out “Tiny invited us”. I hoped they would believe me and thankfully they did.
“TINY!!!” someone bellowed across the room. Of course the guy that approached was anything but tiny. A friendly enough guy but big. He shook my hand and introduced himself to me and my friends and after asking where we were from he introduced us to some Gypsys that had a chapter near where we lived. That’s the first time I met Compass and Fishtail of the Grapevine Chapter.
To make a long story short we hung out with the Grapevine Chapter folks for a while and soon I felt that this was the right club for me. Shortly thereafter I became a prospect and learned even more than before about the Gypsy MC, what being in a club meant and what I could expect from them and they expected of me. After patching in my first run was the Monty Mann in San Antonio. That was the first time I really felt like I was part of something far bigger (and cooler) than I had originally thought. I knew there were a lot of Gypys but I had never hung out with over 200+ friends, brothers and sisters all wearing the same colors, going to the same place in a pack and just having a great time in general. I knew the people in my chapter were the best folks I had ever ridden with but it wasn’t until I met others in the club that I found out why…it’s the culture of the club that they are a part of, that I’m a part of. I’ll take care of them, they’ll take care of me and ultimately that’s what it’s all about.
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