Sam Crow and Stereotypes

As a neophyte to the culture Kurt Sutter has introduced to the mainstream through Sons of Anarchy, I feel totally incapable of speaking to the art of motorcycle maintenance or the subtleties of organized crime, gang warfare, or arms dealing.  My experience with motorcycle clubs (outlaw or otherwise) is limited to my interactions with my mechanic in a small town in California that is not unlike Charming.  If I ever had a stereotypical picture in my mind of a motorcycle-riding mechanic, this guy would fit the bill.  Big gut, long white goatee, shaved bald head, Harley-Davidson t-shirt.  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when I took my Subaru in for an oil change and brake pad replacement.  Within five minutes, however, I was reminded yet again that stereotypes more often than not reflect the exception, and not the rule.  He was one of the nicest guys I've ever met.  Maybe it was because I drove the only Subaru in town and this added some novelty to his shop, or maybe it was because a glitch in the Subaru's computer that developed during my tenure in the town stumped him.

His garage blurred the lines between mechanics and art.  Two of the slots in his garage were for routine oil changes and other maintenance jobs; the other two were for the custom builds - classic cars and motorcycles, and there was some fairly amazing metal working going on.

"John's" office was what really made me like him.  He had a billboard full of pictures of him and his daughter, "Mandy."  From infancy through toddlerhood and beyond, John had documented Mandy's development.  Pictures of him and Mandy on his bike, at her dance recitals, as him dressed as a Hog-riding Santa Claus and her as an elf were my particular favorites.  Sure, there were the requisite posters of scantily clad women on the walls of the shop, some raunchy bumper stickers. John was also the head of the local group of motorcycle enthusiasts.  They rode together in the town Christmas parade and collected funds for anything from the local library to the Lutheran church's food drive for the homeless.

I didn't need Sons of Anarchy to break down the stereotypes I carried around in my head about dudes on bikes.  I had John.  What the Sons of Anarchy is doing is helping the rest of Suburbia understand that this culture is more than what has been typically portrayed in the media.

For example:  James Frey in his book Bright Shiny Morning provides a typical description of an MC member who owns an auto shop.  His name is Tiny.  He fits the description of John, but that's pretty much where the similarities end. Tiny spends most of our time with him shouting at his wife on the phone.  He also seems to take pleasure in constantly reminding a new employee that his life is in danger.  And, after a particularly violent attack on Tiny's garage, Tiny completes the image of the terrifying biker dude.  I wont spoil the ending for you.

Stereotype successfully propagated.

The characters in Sons are studies in members of a society we've been shown to be traditionally packed with testosterone, petroleum, and violence - and that's about it as far as complexity goes.  But these residents of Charming are full of a texture and life that make them more real than most real people.  To be sure, this particular stereotype is based on plenty of evidence.  Hunter Thompson not only wrote about the Hell's Angels, but was on the receiving end of a pretty major beating.  Sutter knows this culture.  He's studied them, lived with them, and even spent a birthday with one of the most important and influential members of Hell's Angels (Sutter Celebrates Sonny's 71st). 


And we're the happy beneficiaries of his research.  God, I love this show.