My Fifteen Minutes of National Fame began with a phone call one fine morning in June of 2002. My brother-in-law breathlessly reported that he'd just heard Paul Harvey finish his morning show with a comment about a guy named Dan Starr, from Saint Charles, Illinois, who rode his Harley while wearing a kilt. Paul described me as a six-foot, two-hundred-pound, long-haired, bearded biker, and finished by asking, "are you going to tell him he can't? I'm not... Good day!"
For the next few weeks, I fielded occasional phone calls from radio stations who wanted to talk to the kilt-wearing Harley guy, and eventually I did on-the-air interviews with stations in Pennsylvania, Michigan, Oregon and Ontario. It was fun; I kibitzed about how the weather's got to be just right for a kilted ride, not too cool, and definitely not too many bugs out. Ever have a bee fly up your... sleeve?
It was also complete BS; at the time I hadn't ever actually ridden a motorcycle while wearing a kilt. So where did Paul Harvey get the idea that I did? Far as I can determine, it was from an article about men in kilts that was published the previous month in the Daily Herald, a suburban Chicago newspaper. The article said I wear kilts and ride a Harley (both of which were true, as was the description), and it seems Mr. Harvey read this and assumed I did them at the same time. Which, at the time, I hadn't done. I tried to explain this to the first couple interviewers, but eventually realized that it was a lot more fun to give them what they wanted to hear.
A couple years later, on my way from a parade to a post-parade party, I made Paul Harvey retroactively honest by riding about forty minutes and twenty miles while wearing my band kilt. This wasn't my plan--the party was only supposed to be a mile from the parade, but I had gotten my directions from a member of the Shriner motorcycle corps. Word to the wise: don't get directions from a guy who spends most of his time riding in circles and figure-eights!
I don't ride in kilts very often, and it's probably not a great idea from the standpoint of safety and potential embarrassment (em-bare-ass-ment?), but it is one of those things that's fun to do a few times a year. If I get everything adjusted just right (which I don't always manage, because I'm still not sure exactly what "just right" means), a kilt rides about the same as a pair of shorts. If not, it can have a mind of its own, uncooperative and a bit of an exhibitionist.
And now you know... "the rest of the story!"