There truly wasn’t anyone like Evel Knievel. His motorcycle was his weapon, but what did he combat? Gravity, I suppose. For what purpose? Political? Maybe. Celebrity, fame and fortune? Probably. Destrudo? Definitely. Even the name was a creation, a gift from a punny policeman that Knievel modified, turning “evil” into “Evel” so that he sounded dangerous, but not devilish. He made himself into an American icon, donning red, white and blue, and as the song goes, “stars and stripes too”. I don’t know if anyone ever asked for an Evel Knievel, or need one, but that is beyond the point. … Continue reading BEING EVEL