My dad is a Harley guy. He rides a Harley and he wears Harley stuff. His wardrobe consists mainly of blue jeans and a Harley T shirt. He likes it that way and he LOVES his Harley T-shirts. Over the years we have collected as many as we can from places we have visited all over the world. We even brought one home for him from Bali, Indonesia. He has Guam, Hawaii, Mexico, Alaska and many many other places. His friends all know he collects them so they pick them up too on their travels. This past summer dad was in an accident with his Harley. He and some buddies were out riding and someone carrying huge inner tubes in the back of a pick-up truck had not tied them down properly. One tube flew out and caused a bit of a pile up. Dad and his buddies were injured but they are ok now thankfully. When I got the call that there had been an accident, dad had already been taken to the hospital and was awake and ready to tell me himself that he was fine, just a little banged up. The first words out of his mouth were "they had to cut off my Harley T Shirt". I knew that all was well when his biggest concern was his shirt and jeans. I will admit to panicking just a little in hopes that they had not cut up the Indonesia shirt. That one would be hard to replace. For Christmas his riding buddy Danny replaced dad's Seminole Harley shirt with Chief Osceola on the back. All is now right in Dad's Harley world.
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