Freedom - pay the price
Rendezvous ...
Tic says There's a lot of incredible very  real bad asses out there now.  He respects many of them, the PBR Bull
Riders Assoc, Surfing Extreme Big Deadly Waves, , UFC, World Combat League, WEC, Professional  Boxers and
many more. There  were  some real fine HA people who were boxers, too.  These men  were and are not punks or
thugs. I never felt in the Dirty Dozen Motorcycle Club we were that. We never started trouble. It was always some loud
mouth, or college drunks, or just typical guys who enjoy starting trouble and all my years as a member we were never
beat because we were willing to rat pack them if necessary.  Club members, now have to be smarter, take a different
angle to keep respect towards us intact. You got soccer thugs, guys and girls willing to pound the shit out of each
other for U-tube, or whatever, to unleash their stupidity. Then you got something all together different, perhaps driven
by poverty, rejection,  lack of love, no direction or drugs.    Gangs and bangers from LA to the east coast and down to
the deep south are growing. Tic says he started to see it in the late 70's when you had to be careful not to get turned
around in some areas in South LA on your scoot because of some 14 year old wanting to call you out or just see if he
can shoot you off your bike so he can tell his buddy's how cool it was.  Then the biggest problem is Al Queda ,
Europe, and South America shit, and of course and unfortunately, our beloved US Government and Law Enforcement.
Just look at what they've done to George Christi, one of the best men in our country who is older now, totally
respected by all who know him, including some law enforcement from Ventura County, California, and he is trying to in
his later years raise his child, enjoy his grandchildren and family, but still getting harassed constantly by area law

It really pisses me off because there are a lot of older brothers suffering and I aim to try and change that and 21 M will
provide for them . Law enforcement can be stupid and cowardly at times. Instead of pulling their resources together
and going after gang bangers hard core, they start calling everyone up and say be prepared to work a double shift,
the Hells Angels are having their 60th anniversary in Yucaipa and the Outlaws and Banditos are coming for a war, ya
sure. Policing the Hells Angels and outlaw bikers is a lot more fun than driving extra patrols into central LA. Not one
arrest, by the way, I know of,  at the anniversary time, and the cops say "I guess we showed them", just wasted time
and manpower for nothing. So here it is, for the old dog to stay on the porch and keep control of the house, we have
to do something different than all the rest and we can do it because of our love for our motorcycles, our clubs, our
brothers, our families, our areas and our country. We have to "Rendevous and Unite".  Not a ‘weak' Federation but a
coalition made up of  respect and loyalty to our cause and each other, with laws and rules. Now this is the part that
gets tricky; first to have it, you got to get rid of stupid pride and ego, especially with people who don't like some people

Like recently, I witnessed  people trying to do this thing of theirs alone, it won't work, not in this day and age. We don't
have to hold hands with each other, but we have to honor each other, we can take care of respect at rendevous like
we did in the 60's. Now this is the part that's going to sting a little but because I feel it can work and because we're all
similar people anyway (One for All, All for One), the Red & White have to lead this thing. They're the most recognized
club in the world. It's like Mohamad Ali and Joe Frazier, no one knew Joe or how great he was, but because of Ali, who
everyone in the world knew, Joe became very great, ‘Smokin Joe'.  I love the HAMC, always have, always will from
day one in ‘65 my allegiance was to them always but I respected the others who were good men from the Outlaws to
the Goose to the Jokers to the Banditos. And I was a member of the Dirty Dozen Motorcycle Club and if we'd had this
back in the 60's and 70's,  we'd had their back, and they'd had ours and everyone in the coalition would have had
each other's back.

We'd settle bad shit at Rendezvousing time. We all have to pony up, if not, as back in the 60's, clubs will lose  respect
they acquired, the government will continue to break us down, one by one, club by club, man by man. It's really about
numbers. Remember, we're 1% bikers first, you had to have a bike (Harley) to be a member. We have something ‘real'
in common. Not a bowling ball, a set of golf clubs, or tennis racket, or a car or sewing machine, but a big ol' fucking
Harley.  Clubs tend to grow slowly, very slowly.  It's best and has always been this way. By uniting, we can continue
this pattern, and keep clubs in tact and grow at a safe rate. Uniting gives us ‘numbers' to support each other, our
culture, and 1% ways. It's not that we don't know what to do, it's that we don't do what we know.

Each club keeps their own identity, there own laws. All 1%er clubs are fundamentally similar,  brother hood, respect,
love, loyalty, honor and something new we're working on, "integrity" - big word. We love to run our scoots with our
brothers in a tight pack and always look out for one another. This is what it has always been about, having people you
care about who are not of your family blood. Vision an army of 3000 1%ers, Red & White, Outlaws, Pagens and East
Bay Dragons. (Not Rice Rockets, let them go put their own deal together.) RENDEVOUSING twice a year, taking care
of righteous business, honoring each other and getting rid of people who tear us apart. If you fuck up and don't put
your club or brother's interest first, you go away. We all know the rules of club life, they're real simple, don't break
them cause at rendevous you can just go away.  This is what's called Respect.  Tic told me, "I just hate biker war, I've
been in the center of them with my brothers and we saw it very up close and personal. Not like fucking Bangers  who
drive by and shoot the fuck out of everything and every one. We were in the same room, or bar, or very close
quarters. We didn't hurt citizens or families or children, we were real men. Back in the day, when clubs Rendevous,  I
always felt we could work things out. I remember when I met Goat at one. He was a Hession, we started partying and
it lasted for weeks. He always said tic, like wait a tic, or just a tic, or meet you in a tic. He drove me crazy with that shit,
but we were with each other so much I started saying it and everyone started calling me Nicatic, I still say it today, 40
years later. I just loved that guy. He was a righteous member of another club. He was killed later that year just before I
was going over to LA to party and hang with him. He was my friend even if he was a member of a rival club.  I
remember seeing Tramp in Berkeley in ‘66. He was so fucking cool, older than I by quite a bit. He saw me and
nodded, I thought, damn, I want to be like him. Imagine me, a US Marine, wanting to be a Hells Angel. What the fuck
was that all about, but I did and I can't deny it. He changed me that night forever.    
I remember a run to Yuma, a big
run, and hanging out with Little Lee (redbeard) who was a early righteous Bandito, a wild little cat and I was amazed
how he had lived so long. We were puttin next to each other a few days before and I looked over and said to myself,
"What the Fuck'. I couldn't believe my eyes. He'd gone down coming over from Texas and toasted his risers and
handle bars.

Clubs tend to get in trouble when they build too quickly and assume it's their right. I'll tell you, in the ‘60's the Banditos
were a ragtag club but look at them now. Texas is Bandito country and everyone knows it. You can pull through, visit,
wear your patch, see some family, but if your planning on staying you got to go through the Banditos because Texas
is theirs. Just as I believe California is Red & White. No disrespect, but it's how I feel. Little Lee stood up and put his
arms around me, he was a wirely little shit, tough as nails and as tough as they come. He said that's good advice
brother, I love you. We went back to our clubs and people. I saw him a few more times before they all packed back to
Texas.  Little Lee was killed about 6 months later in a shoot out, but to me he was a true 1%er and a righteous brother
from another club.  I'll tell you the reason I hate problems with another motorcycle club is they are like us so much, you
really don't hate them the right way, but you have to take care of business and hurt people. As a Dozen, I got used to
scaring myself and when you're a little afraid, you fight back harder. Better clubs respect each other instead of scaring
the fuck out of each other.

Now there's one thing that has to be done and I'll tell you the HAMC understands this better than anyone and I totally
trust them on it.  Believe me, I don't want to step on anyone's right to do what they choose, but no 1%er club or active
club member can traffic drugs in this day and age and not have serious consequences. You or your organization will
go down, go broke, loose most everything, serve many years in prison, but worst of all, you lose your scoot, your
family, your brothers and the club life, you will loose these things that allow you to be free and enjoy this fucking life.
I'm not saying you can't use, that's your choice and your clubs decision. But Law Enforcement is bent on stopping this
drug trafficking thing. I personally don't want blood of innocents on my hands. We  ripped off drugs in the 60's ( bricks
of grass ) but never sold them. We kept them for ourselves or gave them to certain people.  I see people every day all
messed up on Meth, talking to lamp posts or caring on conversations with no one around, stuck in their tweaky skinny
soared up bodies. They are someone's son or daughter, stuck in
Meth hell. My attitude back in the day was not to
care, I just turned my head if a brother chose to traffic, but when I saw member's children suffering and fighting the
problem, I said, "we can't be sure this stuff is not going to get a hold of our family's and took a hard stand. Now if this
one rule is set in stone, we will have the courts, DA's, Judges at our feet, and we will start demanding they take care
of the business we put before them. Law Enforcement will have the first opportunity to make right what we put before
them and if they don't, society will look the other way if we take care of it.  21M will make us more money than drugs
ever have or will and we can keep it all. It belongs to the HAMC but is meant to be shred with all. Each club has to
start cleaning their kitchen. If you don't, you're on your own. The government will eat you like a pig eats her own. They
have too many numbers, guys like Jay Dobyns, time and money to pick away at us.  You never get to really keep drug
money.  Eventually you get caught and go away, and so does the money.

Here's where you start:

Drug Trafficking by members of clubs has to stop. Members involved will turn in their patch to club leadership and be
given 3 months to terminate, sell out, and stop all drug traffic or selling, manufacturing, possessing or making drugs.  
This is any drug which constitutes a felony.  If member can do this, he will be given full patch and status back.  If he
goes back to or engages in trafficking of drugs again, his patch is pulled and he is kicked out of the Club. You can say
it's not the club but because of RICO, they can link any active member to the organization and pull the chapter or area
club down just like they did Chuck Zitto, a better man then most of us by a long way, a man of integrity who never
used drugs.  Even if you yourself hasn't been involved and they pull you in on RICO, you have to prove with a lot of
time and money that you and the club are not a criminal organization.

Note: Definition of drugs not for trafficking: heroine, cocain, meth, crank, prescription or others which constitutes a
felony. For some reason, I can't put marijuana as a felony.

A member may use drugs of his choice in agreement with his Chapter or club
Member refusing to stop trafficking:

1.  If member is reluctant to stop , he is visited by 3 ranking members of his club or chapter and they will encourage
him and help him to stop, and if necessary to offer help, emotionally, financially, etc to try and do all they can to keep
him active and a righteous brother
2.  If member refuses and says fuck you, 3 council members return & report, see you  at Rendevous.     
Europe and other parts of the world have different laws, this pertains to the United States and Canada.     -Tic.)   

Tic told me some stories why he feels that trafficking is so strong on law enforcement and society's mind. He says he
is not against members getting high, we as clubs cannot control the world just let someone else peddle it.

Tic says, I like Jack, it's legal, but I have friends who like bud and bowls, he said he personally liked LSD and riding
his scoot on it. It's kind of  like keeping a chambered hand piece under your pillow with the safety off, kept you right on
the edge of life, so to speak. Real scary shit but a lot of fun.

When LSD came around in ‘65-66, a lot of clubs were trying it and just having a ball. But drugs play dangerous games
with your mind.  Tic said, I myself did some careless things a few times with it also. Before Burr put out the rule to
quite messing with it, we were doing some real dumb moves with the stuff, like one time there were about 30 of us at a
Sly and the Family Stone concert and we putted to it on paper acid. As the concert was drawing to an end, two big
black guys came up to me in trench coats, gangster types, so I thought, and thanks to the LSD, it's me or them. I had a
Rugar stuck behind my back, tucked in a belt under my Patch and a 20 gauge with double OT. stuck down in my
boots under my jeans. I could break it down in 3 pieces about 10 inches long. Just as the final song, "We Gonna Take
You Higher" was being played, the two guys reached in there coats and smiled like they were going to blast me away.
I pulled my Rugar just as the lights came on. Son of a bitch. It was two young kids just jiving and having fun, not two
big thugs and I was just about to open up on them. I was a full 6'1", 220 at the time and both of the together probably
didn't weight that. Just to skinny 20 year old  kids. They jumped back, their eyes as big as a baseball and ran for their
lives. I just stood there with my gun in my hand, trippin' and kept saying, ‘This is really good shit". Hog Jimmy came
running up to me and said, "Tic what the fuck. Put that thing away, what the hell's going on". I said you wouldn't
believe me if I told you, but this acid is really dangerous. The concert was over and cops were picking up on some
trouble so we blended into the crowd of about 10,000 and got to our scoots where the rest of the club was. We were
all stoned and the cops were wanting us out of there. Now we got to ride 20 miles through Phoenix, back to our bar on
acid with all the city lights. Drugs have always been part of club life but there comes a point as it did with us that
you're playing Russian roulette when riding a scoot or packin. It's like wearing black clothes and trying to run across
the LA 405 blind folded at evening rush hour.  Target practice for cars.   

Another time in the ‘60's on a mandatory run at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, Hog Jimmy and I came up on 7
dead, 5 were bikers from another club we'd been with a few hours earlier. A real fucking mess, one was cut completely
in half and we didn't know it until we were moving them to the side and the person came in half. They all had been
doing a lot of Reds. We laid all five of the club members in a nice row on the side of the road by the pines with their
Cuts on. The HP were coming in and we left as there was nothing more we could do. We found their brothers at the
South Rim and told them what went down. We were all pretty crazy back then and it took terrible things like that to
help us realize riding a scoot on drugs is risky.

I don't know honestly who's the biggest or the baddest, a brother I ran with or a father who works day  in and day out
taking care of a very sick child. I respect him and if  I'm right with him he respects me. It's about conducting yourself
the right way around people. I have always felt a lot of society enjoys us, wishes they could do what we've done, glad
they didn't, but accept us as part of America. I want to be the friend of a mother or father who has that sick child, or be
kind to an elderly person who is having difficulty, or support all good people who are different then us but accepts us
as 1% outlaws of America. Like Sonny said, "Treat me good and I'll treat you better; Treat me bad and I'll fuck with
you." Incredible words. Try and live by them.

Note: if we do this thing we're going to show the world some shit.  One thing we'll  shake up so fast and get it gone,
will be the Helmet Law.

Helmet Shit
First, you got to believe in not wearing a helmet you are safer when riding your scoot.
Helmets are a false sense of security, they serve as a crutch, add enormous danger and hazard to your skill in riding a
scoot. (I'm talking of street and freeway riding, not racing Motocross or Extreme Bike sports). I've been riding hard on
and off for 45 years. I realize a helmet has benefit if I get into a wreck, in protecting my head - not my neck, liver, heart,
lungs, spline, or limbs. This bike shit has always been dangerous. Most people want it all and want it now, right now,
spoiled fuckin rotten now. They think you can just purchase freedom like the way they purchase everything else these
days. A bike and a stupid helmet. The do-gooders have faked them out, actually not that hard to do to wanna-be's.
You can't think that way when it comes to becoming a biker cause you can loose your life, or worse yet, get crippled
for life, but they do, instead of working at it day in , day out, paying the price to be a biker, they want something for
nothing, false freedom, thinking helmets are the answer. Without a helmet, you have to work at it harder, be more
respectful, something else they're short on. By not wearing a helmet, the laws of nature force you to conduct yourself
more wisely - ya, and get rid of the fucking music too, asshole.

One day, I was surfing Trestles, one of the special spots in California, and here was some kook with special ear
phones and a Walkman jiving all over. Some demented surfer, who loved God's ocean and the serenity of it all,
paddled over to him and yanked the shit off his bobbing head. The idiot just looks at the surfer, now paddling off
shaking his head and talking to himself, "What ya do that for, says the idiot,   Otta touch and brain dead for sure. Get
real man and in touch with your scoot and life - leave the music box off your scoot. There will be a party soon enough.

In California, I see a lot of Rice Rockets splitting lanes at a high rate of speed, helmets on, all about them. Slow down
buddy, where you going in such a big fucking hurry. They piss people off. I was taking a friend to the airport, a non-
biker, big ole fucking red neck from Texas, who can get real mean. The Rices were flying by, he just said, "How about
I just open my door on one of these irrelevant little fuckers". I said, "not cool, my truck".  Those guys in their helmets
and tennis shoes didn't realize here's a guy 2 feet from them that was wanting them dead. He came up with the idea of
the hour by saying, if he were in his big ol' Texas truck, he could ease into them, squeezing the life right out of their ‘all
about me' souls.; and say he didn't realize they were so close, that he didn't see there speeding asses until it was too
late, Awe shucks. Since the 60's, I always felt a bike and a car was like a hammer and a little bug meeting = car wins,
hammer wins!
Every time law enforcement stops Tic and handcuffs him, they run his guns.  And every time, they have to
cut him lose because they come back legal.  Every time you lose a liberty, or your rights, you'll never get
them back.
All Rights Reserved
US Copyright, 11/2006
The crazy little shit didn't want to
waste time going to a welding shop
so he just took electrical tape and put
the risers and bars back together,
trouble was after a few days the tape
was loose and the damn bars were
wobbling all over the place. Ol' Lee
was just smiling at me like we're
living life free at 75 MPH, like those
bars were welded hard as can be. I
just shook my head and got the fuck
away.  But on the Yuma run, I caught
him in a sober and quiet moment and
we sat down for a serious visit. I said,
‘Lee, the Banditos have a great
future and Texas is wide open, go
back there and build it up; leave
Arizona alone, at least for now, don't
try and bite off more than you can
handle.. We're here and we're
staying in Arizona. We're not going
anywhere, like California or New
Mexico. We cleared out one club in
Phoenix and we aim to hold on to this
deal. You hold Texas and maybe
someday if you do it the right way,
you can get bigger, but hold Texas
for now and be happy.
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Do you "really"
want to live
Standing, L to R:  Rabbit, Wop, CJ, QBall, Whitey, Bull, Smiley, Scarecrow,
Scrapper, Tiny, German, Tramp
Kneeling:  Jaws, Stoney, Sometimes
DDMC Patch and Dice Retired October 1996