The best problem in the world is trying to work out what you like better; the sudden throaty roar of the exhaust, or that crazy, violent surge of speed.
Being on your bike, alone inside your helmet, but open and involved, is like nothing else.
You see, it occurred to me recently that there are only two types of people in this world. People like us and everyone else. The more people I meet, the more I know that people like us are a pretty small group. That’s cool, though.
I grew up without a brother. Three sisters. Interesting thing about sisters is that eventually, they bring you brothers. My brother Carlo and I have been brothers for nine years. He’s like me. I’m like him.
We like stuff that people we know don’t like. They like lycra, we like leather. They like ties, we like guns. They like lattes, we like building bikes.
Have you ever felt like you want something else?
You stormed wildly through your 20’s. Reckless. Chasing that feeling. A blur of hard work, hard partying... everything else squeezed in between. In your thirties you made it. You and your girl got married and you had kids. You know that’s what we’re here for, what your place in life is. After all, we’re just the smart monkeys and we have to procreate the species like every other animal.
You got the work thing sorted and money’s ok. You actually like what you do during the week. You get to do it your own way and it works. Suddenly you’re halfway there. Was that really as good as it gets? Will you now just fade into middle age?
Not people like us. We hold on fiercely. We find things to feed that fire in our hearts. People like them just accept their decline. They start to put on some weight. When they get together with their wife’s friends, they talk about work. Or shares. They compete and try to outdo each other. They tell people about themselves instead of asking questions. They only buy the best. They make sure you know how much they spent on their car / watch / wine / house / pool.
When I’m talking, they’re just waiting for their turn to tell me something. They think people like us are rude and aloof. It’s not that, mate. It’s just that you bore me.
Carlo and I are going into business together and we’re totally pumped about it. We’re kind of lucky because we’ve made some money already so we’re doing this for us.
For people like us.
We want to capture that feeling. We want to make stuff that works how it should. Stuff that feels right in your hand. We want to customise motorbikes. For us. We want to make and buy and sell and talk about the stuff we like. Not the stuff we think they’ll like. In fact, we couldn’t give a fuck.
What we think is that if we only do stuff that we really like, some of you, people like us, will like it too. We think that there’ll be a few of you who feel like we do. You skate, or you surf or you ride dirt bikes. You shoot guns and write poetry. You race cars and paint landscapes. You don’t know many people like you. You like it that way.
HALFWAY THERE is not a brand. Think of it more like a club, or a community. It’s something we’re doing for us and people like us. People who feel the same, even if they don’t know it yet. We’re like a tonic for all the crap that society throws. A nice cup of clarity from a river of shit.
HALFWAY THERE is motorcycles and other stuff we like. Things that make us feel good. We’re looking to build something beautiful. It doesn’t have to be big. It’s something for us and something for you.
If you don’t get it, that’s ok. Settle in for your steady decline to the end. If you want to tell us what’s wrong with it and why you don’t like it, don’t. Just fuck off.
HALFWAY THERE is just for us. It’s just the way we want it to be.
If you feel it too, then welcome.
Our arms are open, brothers.