Hey Honey, I just realized I'm a blockhead and we should go to church on Sunday. Sigh.
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November 30, 2011
November 29, 2011
Peace, Love, & My Sister
This is a recent photo of my sister, Paula with her husband, Dan, and children, Jonathan and Rachael. It's pretty hard to give her grief when she and her family are looking so Stinking Adorable. But...but hey, I guess I'll always be one of her "Little Brothers" so a bit of grief now and then is still my job. In all things I have attempted to do my job well over the years.
Last week Paula, or I still call her PJ, sent a note about a contest to enter a video shot at home duplicating a scene from "A Christmas Story" which was a classic at my house before it became a popular classic. Really. Denine and I went to see it at the movies with my brother, Brian, in our hometown the weekend Paula and Dan got married. No one, I mean hardly anyone, actually saw the film debut in theaters.
Anyway, that must of been in the recesses of my mind today for I have many. For some reason I thought back to our childhood at Christmas. I remember sitting in Santa's lap and other stuff at an earlier age,but the first Christmas gift I remember actually buying was a gift for PJ. By my reckoning I would have been 9 or 10 years old. That was a few years before I launched a successful lawn care endeavor that usually kept a little cash in my pocket.
We grew up with fairly modest means, but were never lacking. We had food on the table, family game nights, and Involvement With Our Parents. All great stuff. We did not sport name brands or have tons of cash, but we enjoyed some great riches. Having set-the-table, here is a little bit of Our Christmas Story.
As I recall, when I was 9 or 10 Christmas season rolled around and my folks scheduled The Family Trip to The Department Store. Paula, Brian, and I all had goals to buy each other Christmas gifts and I am not sure about their budget, but my budget was very modest. Modest like enough money for one small gift for each person so it has better be something that counted. I think the cash came from Mom and Dad with instructions to spend it on each other.
We must have questioned each other about Christmas Wish Lists because I recollect having a specific goal for PJ. I don't even recall what I got for Brian. I hope it was spectacularly great, but I doubt it. I really hope I did not stiff him. He's a good guy and that would been mean. Brian, I hope you Loved It.
For me, at that time I was totally into Hot Wheels so I'd bet I asked for one of the Mongoose & Snake Hot Wheels Cars which were and still are The Best Hot Wheels Ever. The car body hinged up with little props to expose the drive train and car guts so you could pretend you were doing pit work between Red Hot Heats where you crushed all comers on your home course Hot Wheels track. All that joy and satisfaction for a dollar or two. Side note: Do Not Ever swat your brother with a section of Hot Wheels track. It will leave a welt and you will be proved guilty by the evidence left behind.
We entered the department store and it got a little wacky. It was like a big game of Sardines. You know Sardines, the reverse of Hide-And-Go-Seek where you try to sneak in with the person hiding without being seen. The store resembled the game in that I did not what to hover looking at any particular area for any period of time for fear a sibling would see me and be tipped off to their gift. I had to be sly. I had to sprint through the checkout line with the goods unseen. "Dear Lord, don't let the large lady with the completely full cart need a price check and let her find whatever she is attempting to excavate from the bottomless pit of her purse Now!".
I had to be in stealth mode. Denine says I am a bull in a china shop. I do not possess keen stealth skills. I claim it is because I am a forthright and straightforward kind of guy. But I had some stealth mojo working that night, my friends. I was Dr. Stealth. I was On-A-Mission for Santa.
Back to The Big Gift for PJ. At that time "Love Train" by The O'Jays was on the charts. I thought I had the Christmas wish locked in, but I did not. As I casually glanced at the 45 RPM records to avoid detection I scooped up a copy of "Peace Train" by Cat Stevens. A classic Little Brother Blunder.
Come Christmas day other than informing me that she had indicated Love Train my sister was a good sport. I'm not sure how often we listened together, but I'd like to think often, because I remember listening to Peace Train over and over again on my Dad's record player in the dining room. I always loved how the back-up singers brought the song to climax and we all wanted to embrace that peace he was talking about.
"Glide on the peace train - Oh Wah Eeh Wah Wooo Wah - Come on the peace train!"
Peace Train and Love Train both hit big in the first few years in the 1970s. The USA was in a war that it could not win in a place it should not have gone. Students had been shot at Kent State. Woodstock. Hippies. Squares. Short hair. Long hair. Free Love. No Love. A President about to be exposed. I look back and wonder how close we were to self destruction.
Peace Train was a hit for Cat Stevens, a folk singer from England. Stevens eventually went on a spiritual quest after realizing there was a lot more to life that being a recording star. He converted to Islam and changed his name to Yusuf Islam. He asked a lot of questions about society, and has done much to promote peace. After sitting out of the spotlight for over 20 years he has begun performing again, but with a different agenda and soul. His words now are really about peace and not about how a song about peace made him a lot of money.
Love Train, the hit about spreading love around the world was one of the best recordings for The O'Jays. They came from Canton, Ohio and eventually personified the "Philly Sound". Guys from places like that can make hit records or end up on the streets. There can be a thin line between Soul Train and the train station headed home.
Over the years the two songs have become interconnected due to my Christmas gaff. And I guess it strikes me that two sets of vastly different musicians communicated corresponding messages at nearly the same time. Peace and Love are partners. They are friends.
And for my sister, while I could argue that my mistaken choice may have been closer to the trajectory of her life, they both are fitting. She has been a supportive pastor's wife, raised a family, and gone back to school so she can better minister to others. While I can say many good things about her, I can't say much more significant than she loves Jesus and every day attempts to not only to embrace, but set forward his example of Peace and Love. Ultimately she has pursued both.
My sister. She has a little Cat in her. She has a little O'Jays in her. She has a lot of Jesus and bringing his kingdom here on earth in her. She was the best gift from Christmas that year.
Cat Stevens - Peace Train (1976)
Cat Stevens - Peace Train (2006)
The O'Jays - Love Train (70s Soul Train Version with Sweet Dance Moves)
November 28, 2011
November 24, 2011
November 21, 2011
Known
Denine and I enjoy a television program called "Parenthood". The show covers the life of three generations of the Braverman family which is headed by Zeke and Camille. Last season it came out that Zeke and Camille had serious marriage problems that stemmed in part from cheating on each other. It looked like the long marriage was hopelessly damaged. In effort to save themselves, the spouses agreed to marriage counseling.
Slowly the marriage began to heal. One of the apparent issues was Zeke's style of leadership effectively ran over Camille and after years of taking it Camille was no longer willing to be a doormat. Zeke learned. He grew. Eventually when he found himself returning to old habits he would come to realization and recite a therapy mantra "I hear you and I see you". After years he was finally learning how to fully recognize his wife.
Norm enters his local corner bar. Just inside the door the regulars shout "Norm!" to greet him. Welcome to Cheers, where everybody knows your name...if you too are a regular.
Before our girls when to Kenya they asked if we could all go out for a night of Karaoke. There is a long story as to how that conversation got started so I'll skip that particular set of details. We had noticed a local "members club" had Dynamite Karaoke on Friday nights so I stopped and paid the handsome $10 fee to join. Yes, it was $10 to join. Classy joint.
When the chosen Friday night arrived the four of us ventured out to give it a go. We did not know what to expect and I think we all had a minor case of cold feet, but we forged ahead. I even tried to say maybe we were all just a little too tired to go out, but that line of reasoning failed. Inside what you may call a dive bar we found a group of friends, kind of dressed like bikers, that had pulled a bunch of tables together.
It was clear that the Old Couples Biker Club did this gathering most Friday nights. Also, it was apparent they were friends with the staff and the Karaoke DJ. A little functioning community had sprung up on a plywood floor amid ashtrays and empty beer bottles. It did not take long until they started introducing themselves to us. Over the remainder of the evening we laughed together and cheered for each other. At the end of the night there were hugs and handshakes. It's a great memory.
Some other Friday nights we connect with a handful of our local friends and go to a local spot for pizza. We always ask to sit in "Jeremy's Area". It is sometimes more like going to see Jeremy, our waiter, than going for a meal. He visits and catches up with what is going on in everyone's life. He thinks of his regulars as his people. In between our conversations with Jeremy we celebrate Friday night, share our life stories, cheer our friendship, and we greet other friends who show up for dinner.
We like to "keep it local" when we can, so we patronize our closest market, which is a Piggly Wiggly. James, the store manager, will try to bring in products that regular customers suggest. I stop to say hello to James most of the time when I see him in the store. Bryan back in produce always asks how many bike miles I am riding these days because he once saw me come in after a ride. Denine uses specific checkout lines to speak to cashiers she has built a relationships with by being interested in their lives.
I think it is pretty fascinating that Jesus spent much of his ministry with 12 men and 5 or 6 women that traveled with him. It was very much a model of community and defines the pattern of the early church. It is pretty clear that while he was comfortable speaking to large crowds he was very focused on living and dealing with with people he could know individually.
I find it equally interesting that Jesus stopped to talk to people along the way. He took the time. He was interested in knowing them. Big crowds, religious leaders, and self proclaimed important people could wait. Conversations went past sports and weather and drilled right to the core of life.
Consider grabbing a Bible and check out the fourth chapter of John. It's the lengthy account of Jesus encounter with the Samaritan Woman at the well. In those days a Jewish man would not speak to a woman, even his wife, in public. And here goes Jesus speaking to a half-breed woman. He openly discusses theology with her. Rabbis do not discuss such things with a woman and here The Rabbi is doing so with a filthy prostitute. Then he takes a drink from her ritually unclean bucket. I hear you and I see you.
To be known. How many people out there are simply waiting to be known by someone? Anyone. How many people lead lonely lives in the middle of the crowd? Waiting. And waiting. To be known and not saying a word. Maybe they want to but can not. Maybe they Just Do Not Know How. To be known.
How hard is it for us to take time to know someone? Really. How difficult is it to believe it is important simply because it was important to Jesus? Do we fully understand the simple act of knowing someone can be life changing. Life giving. Live breathing. For both people.
May you find the courage to make others known. May you find the simple words that speak truth, life and encouragement. May you notice opportunities that before were not seen.
I hear you and I see you.
The orgins of the Food Truck Craze
I saw the guy peddling food one day in China.
November 16, 2011
November 15, 2011
Sometimes you see the craziest things in the most unexpected places.
We stumbled on this between factory visits today. I present to you the crazy tall bike guy in Taiwan. He runs a bike shop and this is how he markets to draw attention to his bike sales and repair emporium. Most locals ride beat up old mountain bikes so marketing new bikes can be a challenge. How Tall Bike Guy came up with this plan to draw attention is beyond my ability to reason. He asked if I would like to spin on his tall bike. I said that I wanted to go home without any road rash. He nodded knowingly and smiled.
November 14, 2011
Mr. Lucky....again.
Some days Denine calls me "Mr. Lucky" because of all the good stuff that has come my way over the years. The way the other day went down this holds truth for sure. While in China my friend, Ivan, mentioned that he knows a guy that owns a carbon bike factory and perhaps we could pay a visit while we were in the area. I was kind of thinking the guy likely makes cheap knock-off bikes, but was interested is seeing what he does so we went by towards the end of the day. What a good call.
What I observed knocked my socks off. This guy, who set up shop in some regular town in China, makes custom carbon bike frames for a number of industry heavyweights including Bianchi, Garnaeu, Elite, Merckx, Cinelli, and more. Troy gave us a complete tour of the production line where few people are given access. It was a complete access pass to high end carbon bike goodness. Tasty, tasty bike goodness that only a avid rider understands.
Then Troy gave us an invitation to ride a few sample bikes on the grounds. I grabbed a sample bike that had the Shimano Di2 Electronic drive train and took off across the compound. I weaved through shift workers as they looked at "The Crazy American". I accelerated, bobbed, weaved, braked and turned a precision machine through its paces. It was hard to not giggle like a little school kid. Awesome.
After the multiple test rides Troy agreed to go on to with us to dinner. Over great chow we chatted about life, culture, and of course bike design. What an experience to find Troy as a new found friend. Yes, it is hard to disagree that I am indeed "Mr. Lucky". Good times with old and new friends.