Last week, my mother casually texted me a photo of the back of an outlaw biker. She was out in a semi-rural part of Maryland, enjoying some crabs at a table adjacent to some members of The Pagans, the notorious motorcycle club. My very sweet mom sees beauty where others might see mortal danger, and the design on the group's jackets caught her eye.
"I hope you asked permission to take that!," I texted back, panicked (and jealous I wasn't hanging out somewhere as cool). She told me that she had; two members had refused, but one said he didn't mind.