For almost a dozen years I spent winters flying to various spots around the country conducting technical training. This meant having some of my meals in airports. When ordering my $10 bagel invariably I would be asked if I wanted it toasted and if I wanted cream cheese. It was comical. The counterperson would already have the oven door open and be looking at me when I declined and a few seconds later I would again break his stride when I said no to cream cheese. I fleetingly but curiously observed that my choices were so unexpected that they caused ripples in the routine, unexpected double-takes. Often I felt like apologizing to the people behind me, and would try to not feel abnormal as I sloped away.

Is there any place any more for noncomformists? It's bad enough that our non-mainstream choices get us noticed--most of us are introverts and aren't looking for attention. But ironically, we're often branded as attention-getters.

Vintage motorcycling is non-conformist. It's borderline quixotic to prefer fifty-plus year old machines. And although vintage has so much amazing support today and is a thriving niche in the marketplace, in its purest form it really is antisocial. Misfits indeed.