Hooligans or Homeowners, Who Shall Rule? 8-28-93.
At about ten minutes past two a.m. this morning something happened to me. I decided that I'd had enough. My cup of forbearance ran over.
Motorcycles. Motorcycles without mufflers. Motorcycles operated by sociopaths who use these machines to produce a sound very much like a 50 caliber machine gun. Why? A normal, rational person can only speculate. It defies understanding. These are not children, they are adults in the usual sense of the word.
Motorcycle as delivered from the factory are equipped with a muffler as are automobiles. I have heard that this is so because it is required by law. If this is so then why do these nocturnal nuisances rival a Browning 50 caliber machine gun in the level of noise they make? I have examined some of these machines up close, at an address I shall later reveal, and it is apparent that they have been altered for the sole purpose of increasing the noise output. They have no muffler, only header and straight exhaust pipe.
Do the owners of these modified motorcycles make these alterations? I suppose so. Do franchised motorcycle dealers make these alterations? I seriously doubt it they do. It would be very bad for their public relations. Well then, who is behind the modifying of these motorcycles in such an antisocial way?
This brings us to he beginning of this story. We shall now describe to the reader a place called "Hooligan House". This house is located at 4155 Southwest highway in Hometown, Il. This house is occupied by the Laske family. Mark Laske, the youngest son is employed by Harley-Davidson franchised motorcycle dealer shall call him hereafter, operates a motorcycle shop in the garage at "Hooligan House". On the fence behind the the garage you can see header-exhaust pipes hanging in a row. Hooligan House Garage at " Hooligan is a magnet for all hooligans, far and wide, who aspire to the ultimate toy, a motorcycle that sounds like a Browning 50 caliber machine gun. What more could a hooligan want! Oh, to cruise the streets of residential areas in the wee hours of the night and detonate people right out of their beds! Such is the supreme joy of a hooligan.
The absolute topper to this tale has not yet been told! The operations at "hooligan House" have been going on for years Not weeks, not months, but years! The reader must surely be asking, "Why hasn't something been done about this? "Bless you, that's exactly the question I hoped you would ask. Let's ponder that for a moment.
A motorcycle shop and hooligan nest (Hooligans flock to this spot from far and near as soon as the sun goes down) in a residentially zoned neighborhood? MR. Mayor, Mr. Alderman, Mr. Police Chief, wherefore art thou? What shall we call this? Malfeasance? Non-feasance? The Old Payoff? At ten minutes past two this morning I called it ENOUGH! THIS IS PROVOCATION BEYOND HUMAN ENDURANCE! All winter long I wait for spring when I can open my bedroom windows and smell the sweet fresh air. I don't open them to be assaulted by the mega-decibels coming from the straight exhaust pipe of a moron-hooligan's instrument of social revenge on society for not providing a world of endless summer and wine and roses. From this day forward I pledge my every waking jour to the removal of this social cancer!
This neighborhood belongs to the homeowners not to the hooligans.
The goings on at " Hooligan House" will be monitored and reported by this correspondent in the days ahead. Each report will be given wide circulation. Photographs be added in the near future.