Come on ladies, give the burly men that build bikes a try

By ERIN LAWLEY

Ladies, the next time you have an hour or so you want to kill curled up on your couch in front… Ladies, the next time you have an hour or so you want to kill curled up on your couch in front of your television, I suggest you try something a little out of the ordinary. Instead of tuning in to “Friends” reruns, “Will and Grace,” or even the watered-down TBS version of “Sex and the City,” flip on the Discovery Channel.

No, I’m not talking about a show dealing with the latest research on natural phenomena or an investigative piece on the Bermuda Triangle (though I’m sure such programs would be entertaining, too). I’m talking about “American Chopper.”

That’s right. Motorcycles. “American Chopper” is a reality show that focuses on the men of Orange County Choppers, who create custom motorcycles. Each hour-long episode follows the creation of a motorcycle (or partial creation, as some bike-building ventures have two installments) from inception to completion.

I know it sounds crazy, but I think you’ll actually enjoy this one, gals. I was skeptical at first, too — when I sat down to watch my very first episode with a guy friend, I was sure it would be just as riveting for me as watching those “World’s Strongest Man” competitions. But the experience was nothing like that. I was hooked on “American Chopper” after one episode.

What’s so great about it? First of all, the people on this show are captivating. If you like soap operas or sitcoms, then the character dynamics of “American Chopper” are sure to catch your attention. The shop owner and boss-man, Paul Teutul Sr., is a domineering, control-freak type who rarely lifts a finger in actual bike fabrication but is quick to offer his opinion at every step of the way — which also includes yelling at his son, Paul Teutul Jr., every 10 minutes.

Paul Jr. is the one who does most of the bike building. A big-kid type, Paul Jr. often makes mistakes, slacks on time or otherwise contributes to the many hitches that occur through the process of creating each bike, though he always pulls through in the end. The back-and-forth between him and his father is usually comical — ladies, if you think it’s funny to watch guys have ego battles over silly details, then this is your show.

Though these two are the heart of Orange County Choppers, what business would be complete without the grunt worker? Mikey is your garbage-emptying, phone-answering, long-haired, silly office slave. After one Mikey-heavy episode, he’s sure to become your favorite dopey, well-intentioned member of the crew, though there are several other minor characters who might catch your fancy, as well.

But there’s more to the show than the social climate, there is the actual purpose of the show: building motorcycles. What makes this so interesting is that this isn’t an assembly line manufacturing process, and these aren’t the bikes you’ll find at a dealership. These guys build custom bikes, which means they’re all unique and built completely from scratch to the team’s exact specifications and purpose.

It’s like watching artists at work. These bikes are beautiful, made usually for a specific cause with a special theme. For instance, OCC has made a bike for the fire department of New York City to commemorate September 11 (which includes a piece of the World Trade Center and resembles a fire truck); they’ve built a special, sleek, green-and-white bike for the New York Jets and they’ve built a bike to honor Lance Armstrong and his Livestrong Foundation.

This is artwork with a purpose, one-of-a-kind commemoration. And to make such artwork, these guys often have to completely rethink the way they conceive of a bike — sometimes the gas tank or handlebars or fender needs to be tweaked or changed in a new way to accommodate a daring design or design foul-up. For those who are not so automitively inclined, this is a fun way to learn a little bit of jargon that you’ll probably never use.

Still not interested? Then I’m going to have to play the sexy card. No one can deny that there is something sexy about watching a bunch of guys make a streamlined, loud, powerful machine. It’s just the truth. And for some, the burly mechanic types might add a little to the appeal of the show.

I’ll admit that Paul Sr.’s mustache, which creeps pretty far down his neck, isn’t my idea of attractive. Nor is Paul Jr.’s baby face or Mikey’s consistently unwashed-looking hair. But they’re muscular guys who are good with their hands, tossing around testosterone and showing their creative sides. I know some girls who just might be into that sort of thing, even if they won’t openly admit it.

Regardless of what really interests you when it comes to TV time, I think you just might find it with “American Chopper.” The components — character dynamics, artistic factor, sexy bike and mechanical ingredients — all add up to an experience that can be enjoyable for women while their men think they’re watching a bunch of dudes build bikes.

I urge you to turn off “Sex and the City,” even if it’s just for an hour, and explore the other side of the spectrum.

After watching another episode of “American Chopper,” Erin grudgingly confessed that Paul Jr. is sort of cute in a pudgy-faced kind of way. Snap her out of it in an email to [email protected].