I'm inclined to anthropomorphize my motorcycles. It's obviously daft - I know they are lumps of unfeeling metal, but since I've had two Sportsters I am conscious not to show any favouritism between them. I try to rotate riding them evenly. My orange 2002 model - which I have had longest - is undeniably the superior model and I've certainly lavished the most money on it, whilst my grey 1989 - a more recent acquisition - is tattier and altogether rougher. I'm worried though that I might be developing a favouritism for what was always supposed to be my rat-bike.
Actually it's the roughness that's the very essence of its charm. It's why I get a buzz parking it up next to a row of gleaming bling-machines. Which is exactly what I did at the local HD dealership's open day this weekend: The plain paint job, the lack of any graphics and with just-enough home-customizing/bodging ... it all causes the casual weekend riders to stop just for a few moments and think what model it actually is - I suppose they can't recall seeing it in the catalogue.