Taking a shine to tanks ( motorcycle )

[MORTARDUDE]

http://www.commercialappeal.com/mca/...521753,00.html

( great pictures ! )

Taking a shine to tanks
Ex-stockbroker now paints motorcycles

By Jane Roberts
Contact
December 22, 2003

After years of managing other people's money as a stockbroker, Mitch Omar traded in his left brain to develop his right.

And dropped a whole lot of stress in the process.


Now he's running O's Custom Paints, a motorcycle painting business, and aiming to invest the rest of his life in a world of shadowy skulls, tank flames and work he says is all about helping people define their identity.

"We don't have an average customer," he said, masking off flame colors with tight twists and turns of tape. In weeks his work will be a four-color tribute - in holographic shimmer - to the spirit of speed in a Harley-Davidson tank.

Omar, 44, still wears a white, button-down shirt, but there's no starch. And the Harley chain that used to pinch under a tie doesn't anymore.

Dean Witter wouldn't have understood the rings in his ear, but his customers do.

They come in to run a finger over the bomber babes, lightning streaks and pearlized finishes that sparkle in the glow of his spotlit showroom in Bartlett.

His work starts at $1,000.

"The custom bike craze right now is bigger than it's ever been," Omar said. "Every one of our customers wants something absolutely unique."

The best so far is the coffin-shaped tank he dressed up with gold hinges, pallbearer handles and ghost skulls.

Customizing is about getting noticed in the crowd - in this case, a leather-wearing, hard-driving, push-it-to-the-limit pack with both the eye and pocketbook for fine detail.

"It's not unusual to spend ten, fifteen, twenty thousand dollars customizing a bike," said Tim Bumpus, who owns Bumpus Harley-Davidson of Memphis. "These people want to stand out in a crowd. This is their identity."

Take Everett Young, a 27-year retired Marine Corps drill sergeant, now living and working a Joe-civilian life at FedEx.

Except he's never been just a regular guy, and his bike now is the proof.

He had Omar paint a skeleton in Marine dress blues, plus the corps emblem - with lightning going back to the seat - on the tank of his 1999 Harley FXD. The parting shot is a bulldog in a Smokey Bear hat - code for drill instructor - on the back fender.

"The thing that is really awesome about the dog is how clear and detailed Mitch drew the tattoo on his arm," Young said. "It's pretty nifty."

Bumpus has displayed Omar's work in his Whitten Road showroom for months, nearly as long as Omar's been painting for money.

"I was amazed at the quality," Bumpus said. "This is an art form you don't just acquire overnight. You'd think he's been doing it for years. It's as high quality as anything we've had."

That's important. Harley people are picky and as image-conscious as teenagers' playing footwear. They want their bikes noticed.

Young gets stopped all the time, he said, and it's not because people remember him from drill training.

"I notice 'em looking even when I'm stopped at a light," he said.

He may sell the bike but can't imagine letting go of the paint.

Omar started out working on dented, scratched-up tanks nobody else wanted.

"They were my canvas. I took it to a level I felt would be professional enough for people to judge if they wanted to hire me," he said.

Lots of people are. Bumpus sends most of his customized work to Omar, and Joe's Repair Shop accounts for at least another 30 percent in leads.

He also has to make time for shows and rallies.

"I spend about 25 percent of my time marketing," he said. "This is a very labor-intensive business. But I'm lucky because I bring marketing strategies from my previous career."

It means packing up work and bikes and driving to rallies in Panama City, Fla., or New Orleans. That's where the customers are.

"I'm working 60 hours a week, harder than I ever have, but with one-hundredth of the stress," he said.

"When you're dealing with someone's $7 million 401k and getting calls four times a day, that's pressure," Omar said.

"If something doesn't work out just right now, I go in the paint booth and fix it."