Ottawa magazine ran a pretty cool 5-page story on Lee, the shop, Rob's panhead, and the motorcycle scene.
"It’s about soul and history and how, if you could put Rob Watt’s Harley on a strap and could carry it around your neck, it would be a musical instrument. Not a machine, but a musical instrument, the low-throated reverb of some classic Les Paul heard in the Blama-ama-ama-aaaaaaaaa of the engine. Not the high tink of a telecaster — which would be a Honda — or the fine tones of a Stratocaster — which would be a Suzuki Ninja — but a Gibson Les Paul mister, hanging low, looking mean, Jimmy Page about to hit the opening notes to “Black Dog” and the rest of the world fading to black and not really mattering all that much anymore.
That’s what this was about — winters spent communing in a garage, summers out on the road, travelling to weekend festivals with names like Greasebag Jamboree, putting the cubicle and the computer lab far, far behind you, like visions in a rear-view mirror when they become so faint, they might as well be a heat mirage.
It’s about working with your hands and building something you can touch and use instead of having to explain or PowerPoint or prioritize or delegate or any other ephemeral, wispy uselessness that passes for labour in this day and age."
You can check out the full article here:
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