Worn Out Welcomes

I sometimes wonder what welcomes I have worn down, worn out over the years I have stacked up behind me. Blissful and ignorant, my Younger self stretched the limits of more than a few relationships, friendships. Blithely, and with no concern for what my actions might cause in others, I forged ahead with my agenda whatever it was or might become. I meant no harm, but invariably I still hurt some feelings over the years.

My Older self would like to imagine any pain I may have caused to be minor hits like we all take as we beat our way through the jungle from the cradle to our graves. I would guess that it is normal my older self would skim over the unpleasant times and dwell only on the good ones.

But would that be honest? Memories collected to make my youth look like some 1950s sitcom may be by themselves true. What about the filler, the moments and times in between I would just as soon forget? Rough times and ugly moments also left scars, imprints on what I was, what I became. I am nothing now but an accumulation of moments, good and bad.

Facing up to all of them is difficult. Some dark times I can only remember in pieces and parts. A facial expression…… Eyes filled with pain staring me down…. The way I felt when another's words cut me like a knife……. A ten second slice remembering my physical escape after hurting someone deep………… Or the ten seconds watching their backside fade into the sunset after they wrenched my guts out.

Remembering the pain can often leave me feeling better in the here and now. Even though I will sometimes wince internally when certain memories pass by, I notice now that I have come through them all without being bitter over the hurt caused me and only minor pangs of guilt still linger over the pain I caused in others. My list of regrets is actually rather short. And that makes me feel good.

Ya Gotta Wet it!

I picked up this pre-owned CD for exactly $8.97. How Bull Moose Music determined that exact value, well, I guess it doesn't matter. With my frequent buyer card, I paid maybe $6. I bought it because any CD with a title that incorporated the word "Copulatin" and of course "Blues"........Well, how could I resist? Old school Jazz and Blues from the 1920s and 30s, maybe some from the 1940s. I dunno, they are old tunes, great tunes, and damn filthy tunes.

I'm not into porn sites, dirty mags, or XXX videos rented from the back room down to Don's Videos on Rte 236. But sing me a smutty song and I perk right up. I think it was my exposure to all the dirty Irish tunes my brother brought back from College in the early 1960s and managed to recall perfectly no matter how shit faced he was. Or maybe it was the heavy doses of Hawaiian music when I was but 5 years old watching nubile native girls move their hips in unnatural and sinful ways at the King Kamehameha Club while my parents got exuberant and sloppy, stumble back to the car and barely make it home on mixed drinks had to make an impression even on a small fry like I was. Music and sex were inseparable from then on. Even when I wasn't sure what sex was or could be.

And now, well, I'm still not sure. Music and sex are momentary instantaneous ecstasies I never feel when involved in day to day, one foot in front of the other drudgeries dealt with until I can come home and..........................Crank it............. or ..... Wet it.

Either one will blow my dress up.

Grief

I have truly been lost in the BoZone the last 10 days or so. I lost my way the moment I answered the phone. A close relative informed me of a death in the family. Immediate grief set in. The following days became a fog. A trip south to attend the services and stand or sit for hours crowded in with other grieving relatives and friends while the immediate family stood numb trying to deal with the unsought overwhelming show of support. I wonder if we helped them cope or made the process worse? I know I did not feel better when I finally began the 600 mile drive back to Maine. My pain will have to wear itself out I guess.

Rituals, traditions, and the best clothes are dug out from the back of our closets when someone close dies. Moods are somber and serious. Jokes are carefully made in attempts to bring some relief without being insensitive. Copious amounts of food are set up on tables while strangers mingle with relatives. Old friendships are re-kindled, old feuds forgotten, and possible new connections created.

Like weddings, funerals bring people together in celebration. One celebrates a new beginning. The other celebrates an end. Tears accompany both. Then we move on. Damaged maybe, but we move on.

I have some experience with death. Live 59 years and it has to touch you more than a few times. No matter what ceremonial rigamarole we wrap death in, grief always ends up being a truly personal struggle. Sure it is fine to say misery loves company, but our misery is felt individually, no matter what the person next to you feels.

Tired platitudes are pulled out of religious hats, out of secular hats and used to try to make our pain go away. "She's in God's hands now", "Her pain is gone now", or "She is in a better place now" - All of them not meant to make the deceased feel better, but aimed at keeping their memory alive in our minds. If the person is important enough to us, their memory will always be there, an uncomfortable knot in our soul. We will sift through our memories and settle on one or two that make us smile and maybe a few that make us weep. But part of them will always be here, no matter what.

With this in mind, I would say that none of us ever really dies as long as someone remembers us.

RIP Erin.

That Guy

Last Saturday, Bike Shop Jim tried to pin me down. "You riding tomorrow with us over to Bear Brook?"

I was still undecided at that point. The plan called for another Sunday shot because of a bike ride. I knew it would turn into an all day affair. Bear Brook State Park in New Hampster was chock full of punishing trails.....miles of punishing trails. Besides, the group we were hooking up with were true gnarly dudes, looking to pound whoever was along into the ground with their stiff pace and aggressive riding. My body was no longer young and numb and finally I had started to wrap my mind around this notion. Riding on Sunday was gonna hurt............deep.

I looked at Bike Shop Jim. "Uh, I don't know yet. You know I have a yard that is out of control and I......."

"Here come the excuses." Jim started in. "Come on ole man, just admit you are over the hill. Grab your walker and go home." He smiled and then said, "You picking up lunch today? I feel like a Turkey club from Rosa's."

"Yeah I guess so. Call it in. Order me up a roast beef club, ...uh... No, make that a ham and cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion and mayo. Not toasted." I grabbed the truck keys and headed out.

The whole run to Rosa's Jim's "walker" comment stuck in my craw. On the way back to the bike shop I saw an old duffer inching along Main St making slow but steady progress with his walker. If I lived long enough, I knew the odds were even I would be that guy someday. And the day I might become that guy was not as far off as it used to be.

When asked my age recently, I have been telling people I am sixty years old like some teenager not quite 16 who cannot wait to claim that next birthday less than a year away. I don't think I am doing it because I am looking forward to being sixty. Christ, who looks forward to being sixty? I think I am claiming sixty as a kind of preparation exercise for when my next birthday finally rolls around. Claiming it now keeps the shock of hitting the big 6-0 down to a minimum. Anyway, that's my theory and for now I'm running with it.

So I slow down and pull over on Main St to watch in my mirror the old codger struggle along behind his walker. He never slows. He never speeds up. Two steps, pick up the walker, move it forward a foot or so and then two more steps, and so on. He finally catches up to where I am pulled over.

As he passes my window, he looks over and says, "Beautiful day, ain't it." And on he goes, not even hesitating to hear my reply which I never made, because his cheery demeanor caught me off guard. I could not imagine myself with even the hint of a cheerful thought if I was stuck behind a walker on Main St. And here is this old fart, smiling and cruising at a snail's pace loving life. Damn.

I pulled back into traffic and finished the drive back to the bike shop. On the way, I decided I was going to ride on Sunday come Hell or high water. I knew that the number of rides I had left in me were dwindling and any day on a bike, no matter how painful, beat gimping on Main St behind a walker. And yeah, the ride was painful, but I survived and grinned all the way home. Thanks to that guy and his walker.

See Ya...............................
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Image poached from Bleed Cubbie Blue

Is That A Cruller in Your Pocket.........

......Or are you just happy to see me.

I had to laugh this morning when I came upon this headline "N.J. Dunkin Donuts worker caught in 'extra sugar' sex sting". Of course I had to open it and read it.

Seems for a nominal fee over and above the price of a cup of coffee and a donut, one enterprising young woman augmented her income by offering personal services to the patrons of the drive through. Because these "services" were deemed illegal by local and state statutes, naturally the local police became interested in her "off the clock" and "on the c(l)ock" activities. Determined to muzzle this budding entrepreneur and restore civility and morality to the Dunkin Donut parking lot, they set up an undercover sting operation. Of course they caught her.

All I can think of is this really puts a new spin on the term "Dunkin Donut".

Later...............................

August 2nd

I was sitting at my computer this morning. Spread out on any unoccupied flat service was the financial information from the last month at the bike shop. As I balanced this and entered that into the loose dog balance sheet I use to keep myself from spending more than I have, I thought about Congress and this date.

At first, that flash of anger I have been nursing since this whole cluster f......this whole mess began surged up to the front and I lost my concentration on my own efforts to curb spending while still trying to keep my doors open. I had not realized just how angry I was at Congress. I screamed, 'You fuckin assholes".......and then softer but with deep seated disgust, "you fucked us again".

No matter who claims victory out of all this, it is a sure thing the main losers are the 95% of the American population not flying in corporate jets and smoozing poolside in Palm Beach. We got screwed again. They kicked the can further down the street for someone else to deal with. What a bunch of gutless wonders.

I thought about what I would have done had I been in Congress. This thought stopped me cold. I have never been one to say, "If I was in charge...." Oh, I am quick with "You oughta do this, or not do that". But as far as imagining my reaction or action as the man in charge, I have never done that. I know this fiscal crap is way more complicated than the simplicity of the talking points tossed out there for public consumption. I also know, running a government is not as simple as running a business, no matter how big. So applying my own rules of fiscal responsibility would not really fit. But the basics might.

First of all if I am facing a debt ceiling, and believe me when I say I am always facing one, I look for new income streams besides budgeting what money I do have or expect to have. Closing loop holes is akin to me looking for back door ways to make my bottom line healthier. Closing loopholes is like finding money, and Congress did not even consider it for long. What is up with that? Are tax breaks for corporate jet rides that freakin important?

Second of all, I would never drop my price on anything, unless the cost to me went down. But Congress does not think along those lines. It seems that Congress has decided that even though for most of us, costs have gone up, Congress has allowed a privileged few to keep stuffing more money into their pockets on the the backs of the rest of us.

I am fed up with this notion of entitlement handed over to the corporations and those who run them. The rich have done nothing for me I did not earn through my sweat or my purchases. My life will continue on as usual even if they have to ante up and pay more for the privilege of being called Americans. It is not a matter of fairness. I just feel they should pay more for the privilege of picking my pockets.

Later.........................................

Getting back into this blogging game is coming harder than I thought it would. I have started several posts, but gave up on them for one reason or another. Too tired to finish, what I wrote didn't even interest me once I read them, or I just could not get comfortable stealing time away from all the other crap going on in my life at the moment.

Yet the urge to write still exists.

The Debt Ceiling

Just what the Hell is the problem? We have had no problem raising it at the drop of the hat in the past. Now all of a sudden there are those folks who would try to force this country into fiscal responsibility in one drastic measure. We cannot fix the damn economy overnight.

The argument that the solution is with spending cuts alone is patent bullshit. Of course we need to cutback our free spending ways, but we also need some kind of new income stream to stoke the fire. Closing loopholes and asking the income bracket we bailed out not 3 years ago to share some of the rewards they garnered on our dime seems appropriate.

Anyone who believes that taxing the rich more is flirting with disaster is either rich or clueless in my opinion. Yes, it took us 40 plus years to dig this hole we are in. The negative result we are experiencing now though seemed to pick up steam as soon as Bush the Lessor instituted his tax cuts. Trickle Down Economics did not work when Reagan pushed it, and it has not worked since. All it has down is pour money into pockets already flush with cash with no tangible rewards for the majority of the country.

I am so sick and tired of hearing how important and entitled the rich are I could spit. Instead of stepping up and making sacrifices the rest of us have been forced to make, the rich folk have dug in their heels and basically told us to pound sand. It seems Congress agrees.

Congress

About as useless a crew as I have ever seen take up space inside the Capitol Beltway. No matter what party we belong to, we should all be thoroughly disgusted with the lot of them. Ideology has completely taken over from pragmatism. What's good for the country not even on their radar. They are so wrapped up in butting heads over policy, nothing is getting done.

One of my Senators, Olympia Snowe, sends me a monthly(?) news letter entitled "The Snowe Report". In it she focuses on all of the issues she is concerned about. Her latest report gave the current gridlock in DC only a passing mention while she pushed the notion that a balanced budget amendment to the Constitution will solve all our fiscal problems. The majority of the report then became nothing more than a public relations effort to show her as an effective legislator. She stopped being effective years ago. All of them stopped being effective years ago. Bunch of jive talking losers in my opinion.

Obama

I voted for the man. And even though he has disappointed me some since he was elected, I will vote for him again. He seems to be the only voice coming out of DC that is pushing for some kind of solution that will move us along. Whether his ideas have any merit or not, at least he is focusing on solving problems, not just arguing over stupid shit and trying to shift blame. He acknowledges that mistakes have been made, but we need to move on. Republicans and Democrats in Congress however seem to only be interested in blaming each other or Obama for the mess the country got itself into.

We are all responsible to some degree for what we have now. That is the nature of a democratic culture. The prosperity of the population rises or falls based on the choices and attention we pay to the process. Demanding change is worthless unless all of us are willing to step up and be part of it. Ideology can set our course, but we should be ready to use common sense to help avoid the pitfalls and reefs that course may have in its path.

Later..............................

Back in the Groove?

Having been MIA from my blog and yours these past many weeks, I find it difficult to write without serious struggle. I have excuses for my absence. Some are honest excuses and did contribute to the why of why I was away. The Bike Shop, broken computers, and a rediscovered ability to sleep at night pushed me in a new direction and away from being parked here in front of the screen for hours at a time. The other excuses were just me looking for a way to avoid posting when I thought I had surely lost whatever touch I may have had previously.

To be fair, my blog is not the only thing I have been ignoring. I stopped my compulsion to find news that pissed me off. And I gotta say it has been great. I read the headlines, feel a twitch and a lip quiver, then I move on. Regaining control over my own small piece of the World instead of ranting about the world I can never hope to control has helped to calm me down and focus on what is really important at this moment in my life.

But the last 6 years of blogging have proven my addiction to seeing my own words in print, albeit, electronic print. I have always enjoyed writing and am now jones-ing hard to get back to it. Many potential stories, opinions, and general observations have gone by the wayside. It is time for me to find room for my blog again.

Call this my crude attempt to get back in the groove.

Later...............................

My Political Compass

After 59 plus years on this planet, I should know enough about myself to never say never.  Or in this case never promise to not write about politics.  All it ever does is get me all in a tizzy and sour my outlook on what the boneheads in DC are doing at any given moment.  But like a fly drawn to shit, I just cannot keep my mouse from hitting links of the political kind.

I made this promise to myself along with other promises to resist ever present Web generated enticements that would divert my focus from the very real task of trying to pull my bike business up by its bootstraps and get back on the road to profitability.  It worked for a couple of months.  I guess I should be happy about that.

So anyway, I wake up most mornings, sip on coffee and spend some time perusing the news as the Internet sees it.  Until recently I have successfully just skimmed the news that is sure to get my bowels in an uproar.  News about political stupidity, religious stupidity, and any news that focuses on celebrities and who they are banging or not banging this week.

That doesn't generally leave me much to read, so I am done scoping the news before that first cup is drained.  I then switch my computer time to time dedicated to making my bike shop run smoother.  Build orders, check my bank balance to see what checks have cleared and whether the credit card charges from a few days ago made it safely into my account.  I spend time searching for new products and vendors who supply them.

Somehow a series of links found me looking at "The Political Compass".  It is a website that insists the traditional Left/Right designation is not enough to really pin down a person's political bias.  Hmm.  I was intrigued.  Finally someone else out there feels as I do.  Claiming anyone is a Left Wing libtard because they are Pro Choice does in no way mean that is what they are.  Just as thinking anyone who is for Gun Rights is not enough to label someone a Wingnut from the Right.  People have all sorts of conflicting views on things and pigeonholing them based on the flash point issues doesn't tell the whole story.

They set up the political bias as an Axis chart.  Right/Left as the horizontal line and Authoritarian/Libertarian as the vertical line.  Doing this they claim allows one to locate a truer representation of where one sits politically.

After answering 5 pages of questions, it was no surprise to me they had me Left of center but favoring the Libertarian view on Life as it should be.  What really caught my eye though was that Mahatma Gandhi and I seemed to sit on the exact same spot.  Or at the least we were within ear shot of each other.

I found it odd he was as close to Libertarian as he was.  But as most of us seem to do when knee jerking,  I am prone to see things in one dimension at times also.  I guess it makes sense he would fall below the line between Authoritarian and Libertarian given his lifelong battle against what could be considered an Authoritarian government at the time he lived in.  The British may be polite now, but back in the hey day of the "Commonwealth", they could be damn brutal when the need arose.  And Gandhi did spend his whole life struggling to kick their butts out of India.

My only complaint about this test is the same tired complaint I have about all tests of this sort.  The answers I had to choose from did not always accurately cover my take on the question.  But over all, I would say as tests of this sort go, this was one of the better ones.  And once again I have confirmed what I always knew about myself.  Keeping the government out of most of our societal interactions is the way I would like to see the World spin.  But we need some structure and guidelines to keep the sleaze bags who would take advantage of the rest of us on at least some kind of leash.

Keep it 'tween the ditches......................................

Too Much of a Good Thing?

Wrapped up tightly in our virtual worlds, we are protected from the drudgery and boredom of the Real World that lurks just beyond the electronic veil we have encased ourselves in.

Dad misses his kid's first steps because he's busy answering an email from a coworker on Sunday morning regarding business not even considered yet, but considering it on Sunday gives them a jump on when it might come up on Monday.   But have no fear, Mom caught Junior's stumbling first steps on her I Phone and can download it later for Dad to see when he's ready.

In the meantime a lovely daughter crosses the yellow line into oncoming traffic on her way to the store to run an errand for the family.  Her text asking a friend how her previous night of partying went, more important than steering safely through the suburban traffic hurrying to the local strip mall for groceries needed for that one meal a week together many families hope for, but when they sit down, the meal is taken in bites between electronic bells and tunes ringing from everyone's cell phone.

A pedestrian is mowed down by a granny taking a right turn with one hand while she pokes at her GPS screen with the other hand instead watching the road.  Her explanation to the officers answering the call, "The gadget told me to go right, so I turned."  The pedestrian lays crumpled and broken with his brand new Blackberry clutched in his right hand.

Grand kids sit pasty faced and bulging at the seams on the couch in front of the 50" HD TV in the basement gaming and giving their thumbs the work out that should be given to their legs and lungs.  Trees stand outside unhappy and sad that small legs wearing untied sneakers no longer hang from their boughs.

Face to face conversation has become rare.  People are more comfortable revealing their secrets to the whole world via Facebook, Twitter, electronic forums and of course Blogs.  Factual news has become nothing more than opinion disguised as fact spewed from countless web sites hoping to re- write history and push fringe notions on what is right and what is wrong.  Using 30 second sound bites and video blinks, we decide the fate of the physical world our bodies exist in and then retire to the safety of the virtual world we have created for our minds.

Relationships become electronic and long distance allowing each lover to satiate themselves as they will without concern for the electric lover they imagine is real.  Giving an employer 8 hours of work is resented and often abused as 4 of those hours are spent connecting with interests and friends from our virtual reality.

At some point, virtual becomes real, and we reject the world we were born into.  The Real World is nothing but a tedious chore we have to deal with.  We have always known we had no control over the Physical World, but we can control our virtual one.  Or so we think.

Once the inventors, purveyors and providers lauded this new World Wide Web as the wave of the future that would finally bring the World together.  Now that it has become part and parcel of our human condition, many have decided that we have a longer road to unification because of it.  Concern for the general welfare mutating and breaking down into a selfish myriad of apprehensions over minutia and we focus on finding individuals who share our exact mindset.  Thinking that because there are a million people who share our self centered take, we refuse to entertain the notion that diversity is what got us here and we decide that only our way is the right way.

There is always chaos and uncertainty in the beginning of a thing.  And so it seems chaos lurks at the end.  We have some time I think to figure out which end we are at.  But I won't hold my breath.

Later................................................

" 33 "

I'm awake.  It's 2:09 dark thirty in the AM.  Instead of coming home tonight from the bike shop around midnight toasted, roasted, thrashed and ready to crash, I came home pumped up hard with my fire still stoked and burning on a full flame.  I performed some minor domestic magic, emptied the pick up of the trash I brought home to take to the dump on, at this point, some vague and hazy date in my soon to be immediate future.  I fitzed, farted, and diddled around with basement stuff til almost two and then sat down here and pumped Neil Young up to way past wow. 

Two beers later my boiler seems to be calming down.  Obscure relief valves I did not know I had have opened releasing the adrenalin built up but not used to full capacity over the course of the previous 16 hour workday. 

I ponder the wisdom of re-stoking the furnace with some sweet sour mash knowing that in a few hours I have to get up and do it again.  Go to the bike shop and play fire fighter attempting to douse numerous small blazes threatening to burn out of control unless I at least cast an angry eye or token gesture in their general direction.

In the meantime, as my brain struggles to come to grips with this new conundrum, I am still awake and by now I am tapping my old white boy feet to "Warehouse".  Oh no, it's almost over.  What to play next at volumes no human should even entertain introducing to their brain?  So loud I can feel inner juices bubbling up seeking escape from the din I have subjected them to.  Yes, some tunes are meant to be played just shy of painfully.  Later in the morning I will most likely want tunes I can barely hear as I struggle to chase and shake drunken cobwebs out of the way as I move into another day.

"Turn that crap down.  You'll go deaf ferchrissakes.  And where are you then smart ass?  .....................I said turn that crap down..........no, turn that crap off.

Uh?  Dad, you talking to me?  Can't hear whatja saying.  Got the tunes up. 

Walker's Paradise

I was taking a few rare moments from my recent business related only time on the Internet this AM to peruse some of the news from around the globe.  I hit the regular sites, Drudge Report, Drudge Retort, NY Times, Google News, etc.  An interesting article on pedestrian death rates popped up on my radar.  It appears that if one has a penchant for running over pedestrians, Florida is prime hunting ground.  I assume it is the concentration of old fogies that makes it easier pickings. 

If one likes to walk with a sense of safety, New England seems to be Walker's Paradise.  My own state comes in at number 45, New Hampster at 44, and Massachusetts is a relatively safe 42.  And while Alaska can claim being the 2nd safest state to hoof around, Vermont comes in as the safest place to wear out those new Reebok walkers you just bought.  If you want an edgier walk while up here in the North East, head to Connecticut (29th), or Rhode Island (31st).

I guess it is no surprise that states with more rural and less urban would be safer to walk in.   Cram more people and cars into smaller spaces and the interactions between the two groups will have a higher percentage of ugly results.  Why then does the State of New York come in at a lofty 39th?  No place is more crowded than New York City.  Throw in all the other urban areas in that state and I would have expected New York to be at least breathing down Florida's neck for the top spot.   I guess there might be something to the notion that New Yorkers are born street smart. 

I've been to New York City many times.  Only once did I come close to taking out a pedestrian.  Matter of fact it would have been a three-fer.  But I went on auto pilot and stopped inches from rolling over a very big black woman with a child clutched in each meaty hand.  She stepped back from the front of my GMC tractor trailer, looked up at me with eyes the size of pie plates.  I looked down at her with my pie plate eyes.  A scowl came across her face and she screamed, "Fucking Asshole", then proceeded to continue her Jay Walk across the street, dragging her scared shitless children behind her.  I will admit I checked my drawers when I finished the 6 blocks left to the Bronx Food Market.

47,700 plus pedestrians have been mowed down by cars, trucks, buses, motorcycles, or bikes between 2000 and 2009.   That breaks down to almost 5000 people a year. The article goes on to say that while automobile deaths have dropped dramatically, drops in pedestrian deaths have not enjoyed a similar decline.  The pedestrian death rate is hardly chump change when compared to other causes of death in this country.   But in the hierarchy of what we die from, getting nailed by a moving vehicle is just another hazard of living in an increasingly crowded country.

Later..............................................
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 Image from "I don't Brake for Nuns"

Whew!

Well I guess we dodged a bullet and I got myself some new underwear I didn't need.  Harold Camping now insists his prediction of the Rapture beginning on May 21st, 2011 was but a snafu in his interpretative calculations and that October 21, 2011 will encompass both The Rapture and The End.  I have to say, it certainly seems to be a more efficient use of World ending power to just do it once, get it over with, and move on to the next planet full of fornicators, blasphemers, and deviants.  I am guessing God did not get to the lofty position he sits in by wasting his time with installment plan destruction.  Smite once and move on, it's a big Universe.

Now that I have completely ruined any chance of making the Rapture Elevator, I figured I would take a look around the planet to see what the blissfully ignorant teeming masses did once the grand event did not unfold as Harold indicated it would.  Was there a collective sigh of relief echoing across the oceans?  Were there screams of disappointment that once more God failed to live up to the promises his prophets had made?

No on both counts.  Collectively, Mankind did not even blink an eye.  Sunday morning came and it was business as usual.  Fornicators fornicated, Blasphemers blasphemed (not sure if that is a word, but hey who cares), and the knee benders showed up pew side as usual to pay deep respects for a God they know is watching.......................SSDD. 

But one person apparently was MIA.  Seems Harold, the man who stirred up this recent End of Days scenario, was keeping his head down.  I am trying my hardest to be somewhat sympathetic to the many people who divested themselves of their worldly goods and obligations in anticipation of being included in the group of 200 million chosen to go topside.  They woke up on Sunday, May 22, 2011 and their cars were re-poed or being re-poed.  The bank computers were busy churning out all kinds of past due notices these poor unfortunates will be facing in the coming weeks.  Their kids will have to make friends all over again.  And I imagine dealing with such a complete let down of faith and belief will take some time to get over. 

As I said, I am trying hard to find some sympathy for them.  Failing that I started looking for some pity.  That cupboard was bare also.  So I tried to laugh at them and I couldn't.  They did not get what they asked for.  But they surely got what they deserved for allowing themselves to be led down the garden path.

Later.......................................

An Update on the Last Date - The God Variable

First of all, I noticed that some Internet gremlins got hold of Google and screwed up my last blog post.  Several comments mysteriously disappeared.

Hmm.................... Is this a sign that in 3 days we will see the beginning of the end?  According to a fellow name of Harold Camping , the recent series of exploding watermelons in China are a sign.  So maybe he would also like to add to his list of random events signaling the end, my lost comments.  I would be honored if they were added.  If for no other reason than to keep his comedic lunacy at a fever pitch.

But what if he is wrong as he was in 1994?  The World will still spin and the planet's creatures will continue to fornicate, grow, die and new malls and subdivisions will be built.  Or maybe just old malls will be sold and old subdivisions will be sold.  Regardless, Life as we know it will continue it's erratic but steady pace.

According to Harold, 200 million of us will ascend to Heaven.  He claims even Jews can make it if they accept Christ as their savior.  He made no promises regarding Muslims, Buddhists, or folks of the Hindu religion.  The 6 billion or so of us who are left will suffer excruciating deaths by fire, crushing earthquakes, or be turned into pillars of salt.  This agony will last until October 21st when I am assuming the Earth will self implode, explode, or just wink out of existence.  Whatever happens our pain and suffering, especially the pain of anyone rooting for teams from Cleveland, will finally be over.  I am guessing some Cleveland fans are secretly hoping he is right.  The first sign Harold is right will be at 6PM, Australian time on May21st.  An earthquake will strike Kiritimati Island, a Pacific Ocean atoll and follow the Sun around the planet.

Harold's claim is based on foolproof mathematical formulas that tell the whole story.  Numbers don't lie and I for one, after careful scrutinizing of his addition, have to admit the numbers add up.

2,011 + 391 - 1 = 2,401, or 7 x 7 x 7 x 7.  See.  Right there in front of you, the proof stares back with detached and emotionless truth.  2011 is obviously this year and 391 refers to 391 BC when he claims The Old Testament ended but I am not quite sure what the one "-1" is.  I am assuming it is the God Variable.  But I have faith his math is right on.  I mean really, 59 = 7x7 + 11 -1 right?  If this is correct then he must be also.  Logical and well thought out I have to say.

I would look into this more, but I have to head down to Walmart for some new underwear.  If I have any chance of making the Rapture Elevator, I am hedging my bets by wearing brand new, not just clean, underwear.

See ya in Heaven or maybe under some rock.....................

Wear Clean Underwear on May 21st

I think I was 8 or 9 when I was first confronted with the concept of the end of the World.  My mom and I were on our way north from the Washington DC area to visit my aunt and uncle in Maine.  We stopped in New York City for 3 days and did the tourist thing.  Empire State building, Statue of Liberty, etc.  We spent one day just walking around.  I had never seen buildings so tall, or people so crowded together.

One of our walks was through Central Park.  Apparently there is one area of the park where all the whack jobs congregated.  They would stand at some prominent spot, a park bench or on a concrete wall surrounding a fountain holding signs or the Bible and voice their opinions on any number of subjects.  "The End" was apparently a hot topic.  More than a few had distinct views on when we humans would finally wear out our welcome.  I can remember one fellow was sure we only had a few months left.  He assured me and the small group of onlookers that unless we repented our sins, God was going to plow us under and start over in a few weeks.

Eight year olds tend to take anything an adult says seriously and even worse, literally.  What followed my exposure to this new world view, was probably one of the first serious conversations I had with my mom about anything other than the real world, real time things kids think about.  The guy scared me.  He was serious.  He was an adult.  And he told me the World was going to end.  I had been well schooled by that point to listen seriously when an adult got serious.  I believed him.  My mom talked me down, trying so very hard to keep a straight face. 

Anyway, ever since then I have been fascinated by End of the World theories and warnings.  Over the years I realized that at some point one of the whackos was probably going to nail down the right date.  Odds being what they are and all.  So whenever I see a new End of the World date pop up, my first thought is, "Hey, maybe this one is going to be right."

Imagine my delight when I heard the other day an interview with a fellow who is positive May 21, 2011 is our day of reckoning.  And by October 21, 2011, it is a done deal and only a select few will be allowed into Heaven.  The rest of us will end up in some galactic landfill somewhere.  The man went on to explain that once he was convinced it was all over in a few months, he actually became a happier man.  He stopped worrying about mundane realities of the physical world and concentrated on the world he was sure he was headed for.  He hoped to be one of the "chosen" who would end up poolside in Heaven sipping cool drinks and swapping tall tales with St Peter, Gabrielle, or maybe even the big guy himself.  He even claimed he had stopped paying bills, had not filed his taxes, and had given away almost all his worldly possessions. 

Is May 21, 2011 the date that will finally win the Armageddon Lottery?  Maybe, maybe not.  All I know is just to be safe, and make the right impression in the right circles,  I'm going to be sure I'm wearing clean underwear on May 21, 2011.

See ya soon.........................or not.  ;)

Well Done Mr. President

My initial reaction when I heard Bin Laden had been killed was, "Jeez, about time ferchrisakes".   It was not until I had had time to really process the information and let it filter through all the pent up anger and frustration built up inside of me these past ten years that I experienced my true reaction. 

I was not dancin in the streets ecstatic, but I was pleased enough to high five and grin.  As the days passed since I heard, it seems a weight has lifted off of me.  The sorrow and grief from 9/11 ran deeper than I thought I guess.  America got a bit of closure and a much needed boost to our morale.  Suddenly we resembled our old selves again, if only for a few days. 

And how was news of Bin Laden's death received in the Islamic world?  At first like us, not much other than being stunned.  I think the entire world was caught way off guard by the audacity and daring of a US raid into the heart of Pakistan.  No immediate outrage, just muffled half hearted complaints at first from his supporters.  Al Qaeda  had been sucker punched.........hard.  And that pleased me immensely. 

What pleased me the most however, was the reaction from most of mainstream Islam.  Instead of the predicted outrage, I have the distinct impression a majority of the Muslim world is happy that Osama Bin Laden is dead.  Yes, he will always be a hero to the fringe lunatics who use terror to make their points.  But like I always knew, the average Joe Muslim is just like me, they just want to be allowed to carry on with their lives peacefully.  Like me, they hate that fringe voices have hijacked their culture and use it in all the wrong ways.  Maybe now the stupid, petty hatred many Americans have for any Muslim will ease up. 

And then this morning I read an article about the outrage of one of Bin Laden's sons.  Why was he not captured alive and given a fair trial?  His burial at sea was a purposeful slight to Islam.  His wives should be released immediately.  and so it went, blah, blah, blah.  Omar, his son, thought that his father should have been afforded the same right to trial as Saddam Hussein of Iraq and Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic. 

Dude, those guys were nasty actors for sure, but they were leaders of real countries that at least pretended to follow real laws.  Your dad was a thug without a country and deserved to be shot down like a mad dog.  He received much more respect than I would have given him. 

Which brings me to our president.  My internal polls regarding Barack Obama had been inching down these past few months as I watched him give ground to the ever increasing domestic stupidity coming at him from the Right.  But his ballsy call to go through with this mission just raised him back up in my eyes.  There is definitely steel in this man's backbone.  It appears to be high grade spring steel.

Well done, Mr President.

And to Seal Team 6 and all the military and intelligence people involved..... Excellent job guys.  Just excellent.

Later.........................................

The Perfect Ride

There are situations, points in time, lyrical moments that cry out for whiskey.  Some incidents and accidents insist on massive, almost intravenous infusions of good Kentucky or Tennessee sour mash.  Other circumstances, temporary moments of altered states lean to maybe sipping lightly from a recently  filled stainless steel flask pulled out new from the Quality box full of bike parts early in the day when Life was hectic and I needed something special to look forward to in order to keep me on an even keel as the world in my immediate vicinity threatened to spin out of control.

Smiling my way through the rest of my day's labor, I  eagerly anticipated this moment when I could enjoy my first sip from that brand new Stanley commemorative 8 ounce flask and consider a job I hope is well done.  Finally finished and more importantly, hoping what I have constructed will bring a smile to the man who will soon throw a leg over this "perfect ride".

I sit here wondering how to impart the pleasure of constructing something that was once but a concept of many parts coming together, coalescing in my mind so many weeks ago.  I pondered as I hung, draped, and installed the many and various parts, my feeling of ownership or maybe responsibility for this pinnacle of civilized machinery as it slowly evolved with each gee whiz part I screwed on and adjusted.  This bike was a thoroughbred, a A flirtatious filly that would need the right jockey to push her to her limits.  And this jockey would only be able to push her limits if I had done my job.

Building such a fine machine caused delays as I anguished every little thing.  From making sure the saddle was level to creating the best chain line possible.  I used emery cloth.  I used almost every tool I own.  I wished for tools not in existence. I sweated details like I almost never do.  And I cussed like I always do.  I refused to let it go until the clock had literally run out.  I have to hook up with the infamous John Fox on the Turnpike tomorrow to pass my handiwork off as he heads south of the Mason-Dixon line to deliver this 18.6 pound beauty into the eagerly awaiting hands of it's new owner, Dave the Punk.  And while all our backs are turned, Bike Shop Jim finds that first limit in the parking lot out back.

Suddenly the Presidents of the United States swing into gear and with the knob turned up to wow, rock hard with "Mach 5" ......Drive with the top down.  Or tip back, sit back,  throw back some fine spirits and ...................................Grin.

What I missed

Far out.  The planet spins whether I am paying attention or not.  Events ripe for commentary unfold without my knowledge and when I finally touch back down to Earth, I am overwhelmed by sensory overload.  Lost in my own little world this past month and a half, I have missed out on being there to see important events unfold, finding out about them only after the dust has settled.

I had heard about the Tornadoes of last week, but only now, as I peruse the still images of the damage and the casualty count am I able to comprehend how devastating the events were.  My reaction is probably the same, but damn if I don't feel like the guy who shows up after the beer run to find out Cal Ripken Jr. just hit a grand slam and I missed it because I was not there.

I just watched a video of Obama's speech at the recent White House Press shin dig.  Made me laugh out loud.  Barack got some pay back for the recent stupidity from the Right side over his birth certificate.  I loved it.  But it makes me wonder why he let it fester so long?  And then I remembered how I would have handled it had it been me.  It would still be unreleased.  I did really enjoy the hits on the Donald, who apparently is now complaining the President's remarks were "inappropriate".  That just makes it funnier.  You go Donald, you da man.

The one event I was almost on top of was waking up to the breaking news of  Bin Laden's death in Pakistan.  Turns out while we thought he was hunkered down in some uncomfortable cave in northern Pakistan, he was really living the high life in a mansion 35 miles from Islamabad, the capital.  Hmm.............. It took us 10 years to find him?  And the Pakistan government did not know he was kickin his heels up poolside in their back yard? ..................................... The fact we did not bring the Pakistan government in on the mission is interesting and disturbing at the same time.  There will be some fall out.............Well I guess it's a good thing he is dead.  But the victory has a bit of a hollow ring to it.

Because I have been so out of touch recently, I took at least 2 minutes this morning to find a site that wraps up the important news from around the World on a weekly basis.  Seems to be an objective site in that all they do is offer links to the stories themselves.  Of course their picks could be construed as manipulative and in the end they really want the reader to join some secret group hoping to overthrow some government somewhere just because..........well just because that's what secret groups do.

The story that caught my eye was that Superman renounces his US citizenship in the 900th issue from Action Comics.  What?  The man of steel is turning his back on the USA?  Why big guy, why?  Damn, I hope he is not emigrating to China. 

Now that Obama's long form birth certificate has been released, there are several Birthers (Fox & Friends, etc) who were very quick to point out the problems with this "real" certificate.  Apparently though, their new standard bearer, Donald Trump is satisfied.  Now he wants Obama to release his college records.  What's next?  Permission to view bedroom habits inside the White House?.........................Oh yeah, the Right has already been there, done that.  Never mind. 

It'd be nice if the Right, the Left, and the Press treated us like we have a brain and focused on events and issues that really matter.  But as long as we continue to focus on stupid stuff, they will always be there to feed it to us.

Stay sane, or as close as as you can get....................................

The Reluctant Tycoon

Blog wise, April has been a bust.  I had other and some would say, more important things to focus on.  My bike shop for instance.  All month I kept telling myself that when the shop settles down after the initial Spring rush, I will have more time to dedicate to blogging, hanging out with my blogging buds, and contemplating my naval.

Things have not settled down at the bike shop.  In late March, business went from 0 to 100mph almost over night.  It has not slowed down since.  Everything in my life has been put on hold to make room for the bike shop.  And that is as it should be I guess.  After all, making money is what keeps the damn doors open. 

 I was caught off guard.   The last 5 years of mediocre or less cash in the till made the memory fade of the normal flow of a bike shop that is waking up from the long winter.  This Spring reminds me of my seasons 10 years ago.  Living, breathing, and dreaming of nothing but the bike shop, 24/7.  I knew I was one toke over the line when a bad dream woke me up.  It involved me, my daughter, one of my vendors and some wheel parts I ordered that came through wrong and oh my god, how was my kid going to win that bike race now.  Whatever it was, the dream was about bikes, business, and an angry customer who was related to me.  There is no bigger pain in the ass than an angry customer who is related.  Of course, my sweet daughter would never be a pain in the ass - ;)  It was a dream.

Even though I am exhausted, beat up, and more than slightly ragged around my edges, I am one happy buckaroo at the moment.  I am once again sleeping the sleep of the dead ( the one dream aside).  The extra cash has enabled me to fill my shelves fuller than they have been in several years.  I seem to have successfully made the transition from my old business model to my new leaner and meaner operation.  I am actually considering looking for those rose colored glasses I seem to have misplaced.

Life is really good at the moment.  I plan on hanging on while I can.

Happy Trails.....................................................................................

This Company Does It Right

I am so tired of the word "Green" I could spit.  That somehow just attaching the word "green" before, after, or within the name of a product, service, or process, we are to believe whatever it is is kind and gentle to the environment.  Humans are not kind to the environment.  Just taking up space and breathing has an impact.  Besides the "environment" does care one way or the other.  It's physicality has precious little to do with what we attribute to it.

I think rather than pull at people's heartstrings by attempting to drum up worry over the plight of frogs, trees, or some obscure moss only found in a 3 acre parcel destined to become a shopping mall, we should focus our narrow minded population on what environment we are really talking about.  We should be making the point clear that if we continue to mine the planet of all the non renewable resources at the pace we are, soon "our environment" will be in sadder shape, maybe even unlivable shape.  Never mind the frogs or the snail darters.  Their demise or mutation is but a warning of what might be in the future for us.

Barring a planet wide human kill, our species absolutely needs to sharpen our management skills as it pertains to producing the basic human needs for 6 billion people.  Instead of exploiting our natural resources as fast as possible, we need to exploit with longevity and careful consideration in mind.  We should insist the life span of the products last longer, the packaging be re-usable, and demand food production with less chemicals.  And it all starts with the producers, growers, manufacturers.  Without them taking the lead, our cattle brained population will never fully be behind it.  We will continue to consume mindlessly.  That is what the herd does.  Smaller installments of reality now and in the near future has to be better than the obvious critical tipping point of reality we seem headed for.

One small company in Portland, Oregon has been actively trying to lessen their impact on our environment since they began back in 1976 while making the best products of their kind and being financially solvent and prosperous at the same time.  Chris King Precision Components makes high end bike parts.  Their products outlast anyone else's and are beautifully executed.  If you have any Chris King component on your bike, you make sure all your gnarly dude buds know about it if they don't notice when you first pull your ride off the roof rack.

Besides manufacturing everything, including their own bearings, Chris King has constantly looked for ways to lessen the impact of their machining on the local, national, world wide natural order of things.  Products that outlast their competitors is a great start.  They also take the time, effort, and investment to recycle and re-use thousands of gallons per year of cutting oil they need to machine their parts.  By squeezing out the cutting oil from the aluminum scrap before the recycler picks it up, they end up with a higher value scrap and get more money per pound for it.  Their work place is legend in the bike industry.  People love to work there.  The company is actively involved in local and national programs that focus on responsible stewardship of the planet.  And they make money to boot. 

Yes, their parts are expensive.  But I believe their example is one the rest of the manufacturing world should try to emulate.  Of course, we have to wean ourselves off the Walmartian mentality of  "cheaper is better" and the notion that consuming for consuming's sake is a good thing.  It will happen because at some point, even the cheap crap will eventually be too expensive to buy.

Later..............................................
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Images all poached from Chris King Site