"...and the best part of this- no millenials! No safe spaces here." The Decline of Polite Society and Harley-Davidson

"You're part of the problem," I thought, the second a Viet Nam veteran made this statement to me as we were walking toward Patriot Harley Davidson for Rolling Thunder. We were walking toward the main stage to hear Dr. Bruce Heilman, an amazing storyteller and one of the surviving members of the Marine force that landed on Iwo Jima, provide his take on Memorial Day. The difference between Bruce Heilman and the gentleman walking beside me could not be more stark and gave me something to ponder as we rode toward the Pentagon.

I'm fully aware that events like these mean different things to different people. Case in point, the first year I went, I just wanted to be part of the crowd. It's fun to be in a pack of thousands of motorycles riding on a closed highway, waving at kids and enjoying the camaraderie. The great weather, the very well organized Harley dealer and Fairfax Police, and the presence of so many veterans, friends of veterans, and motorcycle enthusiasts was awesome. Throughout the morning, the various speakers woke something up in me, a pride in being a veteran that really connected me to my friends, family members, and brothers and sisters of this great fraternity that is the U.S. Armed Forces. So... year two, I came in a much more reflective mood, and I was sporting my USS Carl Vinson cruise tee shirt from our 1994 WestPac. Like the Harley-Davidson brand itself, it's a bat-signal to others that transcends space and time. Some served on my ship (before or after me), some served in the same water (50 years before and 25 years later (eek!)), some in the same battle group, etc. It's amazing how quickly you can forge connections if you make yourself available.

Unfortunately, it also draws a divisive element that seems to get worse with each passing year. Us-versus-them. From around 2003, I was worried that Harley Davidson's arrogance was going to cost them dearly as their baby-boomer customer base aged out of riding. Their sales experience completely sucked, and there was an air of exclusivity that I couldn't seem to crack. Like many uninformed Americans, I was raised to believe that H-D was the pinnacle of motorcycling, and everything leading up to that was an inferior stepping stone. Like a mean-girl, they made you come begging to the brand; long waiting lists, dealer premiums, artificial scarcity, and at the time, a rightfully-earned attitude that if you didn't want to play by their rules, they'd find a customer that would. The flip side of this, when I expressed to a salesman (H-D Ocean City, now shuttered) that the motorcycle I was test-riding was ponderous, top heavy, and just didn't feel good, he said, "The key to a Harley Davidson is that... wherever you go, you'll be accepted." Oh. My. God. I nearly ran out of the dealership, and my rift with the brand was complete. Us-versus-them, and I was them.

Back to my anti-millenial buddy. From the text on my tee shirt, he quickly deduced a few things: 

1. I'm not a millenial. I was sailing the seven seas when his snowflake's parents were in college
2. I'm a veteran warrior, which for someone his age, means I'm likely a republican (I'm independent as hell)
3. I look like a younger version of him; black shirt, jeans, veteran, middle-age white male. We must have similar views, right?

Us-versus-them, and I'm an accidental Us.

Dr. Heilman's speech was incredibly moving. I've heard my share of war stories over the years, but his keynote speech was a gift from the Greatest Generation to us. He had no malice toward the younger members of the crowd; he wanted to make sure the firsthand experience of World War II was remembered- the sights, smells, and emotions. When he concluded, there was a moment where the Us transcended all of our differences. We're all humans, and we need to watch out for each other.

As I fired up my motorcycle and got ready to go, I thought about the keynote address and where we're headed as a society. It seems so simple- if we can look beyond our noses, everybody is better off as a result. Learn from our history, remember our history, respect one another, and seek out the good. Doesn't seem too hard, right?

The reality is a bit more complicated and takes us back to Maslow's hierarchy. Dr. Heilman assumes we're at Belongingness or higher, while my friend thinks we're fighting for Safety. Depending on what one knows about the world and one's place in it, I suppose any answer could be right, but as a country, I think most of the middle aged, white male Americans (the dominant group at Rolling Thunder) are not fighting a daily battle for their safety and could use a long look at the bigger picture:

Us and Them.

Think about what happens to 'Us' over the years. Us fights, protects, builds, elevates itself, and attains a privileged status. Us reaches a pinnacle with a strong base of support, legitimacy from within and without, and Them clamoring to become Us. Us becomes more insular and devotes more time to preserve and exclude; Them looks really different from Us. Us becomes a parody of its former self and takes on the characteristics of a kids' clubhouse. Us becomes irrelevant in the face of the changed world it chose not to see through the clubhouse window.

Sound familiar Harley? UAW? Political parties? Baby boomers? It's time step up and acknowledge the current reality and your complicity in failing to move the ball forward. The world is an amazing place, and it's even more amazing when you're confident and inclusive. We wouldn't be discussing the decline of H-D or the need for safe spaces if we just acknowledged the pendulum has swung too far and could use a little course correction.

I know Newt Gingrich strongly disagrees with me, and I hear there are no great moderates in history, but it's high time for America to look around and seek common, higher ground. If we don't, our children's children will read about our country in the same way we read about the Roman, Ottoman, and British Empires in history class; the past tense.