POTATOPOTATOPOTATO

Welcome to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, current home to more Harley's than
anywhere on EARTH. Where the current game is how many bikers can you
hit on the freeway, with extra points for sidecars.

Sadly, this is tru, and worse, they are playing this weird pinball
game on the freeways, which are currently are no where near free
way. As the sound of hundreds of Harley's stream into my van, we are
stopped for almost an hour in a gawkers block. I have the Muddy Paws
Pack with me, on the way to an agility run thru, and without movement
to lull them asleep, they are quite awake and interested in the
sights and sounds about them. Directly behind us was a pack of maybe
30 bikers, and of course, they take special pride in their loudness.
POTATOPOTATOPOTATO (say this really fast and you will understand the
reason for this onomonopia). I hear the dogs start a low rumble, and
then they take up the chorus: POTATOPOTATOPOTATOPOTATO. I am
disturbed. I really don't want the dogs to offend the bikers behind
me by growling at them! Besides, they shouldn't be growling! What
are they doing? POTATOPOTATOPOTATO OWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW.
Tru adds a discant to the rumble, howling to the 'song', and his mom
begins, her mouth a perfect O. Chrys, who doesn't seem to know how
to howl, continues with the rumble. I look behind me, at the stopped
bikers. They begin to laugh, and take up Tru and Charms' chorus...so
down 94 we go, POTATOPOTATOPOTATOPOTATOPOTATOPOTATO
AWWWAOOOOOOOOOOWOOOOOOOOOOO.

Quark used to ride on a Harly. Ain't no way this spoiled pack of
bench dogs is getting one!

Mindy and the Biker Pack