It wasn't about owning a flashy showpiece, although, with its skirted fenders and sweeping highrise handlebars, Terry's Harley certainly fit the bill! It wasn't about being a bar room brawl type of cool, either. When he slipped on his black leather jacket and riding boots, his friends called him Cosmo, short for Mr. Cosmopolitan. He was cool, but it was sophisticated and dignified and graceful. It wasn't about a mid-life crisis. Crisis? What crisis? This was living a dream! It was about taking to the open road, a concept as American as apple pie! Power. Freedom. Riding this low slung bad boy was an experience like nothing else. That's what this was about. Not that other stuff. Well, okay, maybe just a little.

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