Probably from a false sense of drama, and partly because creating a documentary in tandem with reality sometimes causes us to forget that normal shit is totally unaffected by our hopes for story arch, we really didn't know what to expect on the first night, considering the snow. After we posted up Part One of the documentary, we piled into the car and headed to the show. The roads were solid ice; no cars were driving up here on Mt. Tabor. It wasn't until 39th and Belmont, heading West, that we saw our first set of headlights. The whole city seemed to be held up indoors, waiting for the snowstorm to pass. But when we arrived at The One Moto Show, we were not surprised that the show was jammed packed full of people, bikes and music. It was like Christmas in February. Someone's sole job should have been taking pictures of people hugging. Someone else's job should have been taking pictures of Ornamental Conifer pouring booze down people's chins. It doesn't take an enthusiast to appreciate the bikes. They were awesome. But it was more than the bikes. It was a true coming together. A rally in the best sense, for people that seldom get to experience something really unifying, at least this person. The community that we witnessed in the building of the show was compounded at the show itself. It was church, which I guess makes Thor a really convincing John the Baptist or a satisfactory Jesus Christ. Either way, we drank the Kool-Aid, bought the shirts and can't wait for next year.

Juliet Zulu