two hundred eighty four
two hundred eighty three
I was born in Eastern Ohio, in a small industrial town surrounded by small dairy farms, pastures, woods, ponds, lakes and meandering creeks. The mosquitos and flies were horrendous but I didn't know how bad they were until I moved to the desert southwest.
This is a stock picture, the boy is much cleaner then I remember ever being. All summer I was coated in dirt, tanned, scraped and bruised. I had to be threatened to wear shoes or a shirt.
two hundred eighty two
ALWAYS WEAR CLEAN UNDERWEAR
two hundred eighty one
I'M FOREVER
TWENTY SIX YEARS OLD
............IN MY HEAD
I don't have many pictures of the younger version of me, in fact I have very few pictures of me period. This one is from the 80's, I was in my mid-twenties.
Even though I'm 70 years old I still look out through my thickening glasses and perceive the world around me as a twenty six year old.
I can still jump, run, work a twenty hour day, lift heavy things and fight. The problem is the actual thought of jumping or running triggers an override in my brain that shorts out all physical attempts to do either because I have had a knee replaced.
Working long hours is possible but the recovery time can now take days. After a manual labor career my body is capable of efficiently moving large objects because I have learned to use it, but overpowering a heavy weight with pure muscle still seems a waste of energy.
As for the fighting I still have a great posturing bluff that has served me well, but I'm not sure I'm regarded as much of a physical threat. What I do have is the "old man card".
The majority of men fight over pride. Sometimes you are at the wrong place at the wrong time. There is little you can do if you are the what I call "it". I have been the victim of this a few times.
When I was young I healed quickly so even a real thumping never made me miss a day of work. Today I think I may stay down for a lot longer.
The "old man card" works like this; if a fight is about ego, both parties need to be perceived as a trophy. Beating up children, women or old men is far from sporting in fact it is shameful.
If you point this out and own the fact that you are and old man, he and his friends will see there is no upside to a victory. You lose a little pride but it usually ends in a good laugh.
This is a common conversation I have with friends my age. We laugh about it but none of us are happy about this fact.
A few weeks ago I was walking out of Costco towards my truck when a woman driving by stopped, rolled down her window and asked if I needed help finding my car. I thought what the hell do I look that pathetic and lost?
I have had several young women offer to help load a heavy suit case in the past couple of years, but last week I had an older woman say," Let me load that it's too heavy for you". She weighed about 110 pounds.
I loaded them after I pressed each suitcase over my head five or six times. I think she got the point or she thinks I'm crazy.
I had an eighty year old lady hit on me. She was pretty up front about it. She said the men her age were dead and life is short. I was at a loss for words so I just smiled.
Another day I stopped to answer a phone call during a bike ride when a very nice woman stopped to see if I was having a stroke or heart attack. Bless her heart for her kindness but my ego felt like I had had my testicles removed.
This is just life I understand that, but I don't have to like it. All I know is I'm going to get up everyday and do the drill, what other choice do I have?
There is a choice but I refuse to stop living a full life. I want to do what I have a passion for as long as I can, after all I am only 26.
two hundred eighty
San Francisco
When I lived in San Francisco I met a man. We had very little in common because we were from very different backgrounds and social circles. We had a few conversations about life and politics over the first year. One day his wife who had been ill for a very long time passed away.We talked about important things but mostly guy stuff. He was a Doctor with an obviously successful practice. He had retired years earlier and was healthy for an eighty year old.
Unfortunately his heart grew weaker over the years. He was always concerned with my wife's health, she has been dealing with a serious illness. We ate in a French Restaurant in Sausalito a few years back. We talked on and off over the years and lately he started to FaceTime.
I asked how he was then we talked like a couple of guys. I always knew this day would come and wondered if he would return my texts.
Today I was in a mountain pass driving a bus. I was in a very spotty cell phone area and had passengers. I had to cut our call short and had planned to call when I was back in town.
There was no answer so I left a message. A few hours later the phone rang and it was his daughter. I had no contact with his family we just talked from time to time. She said her father had passed away.
Not knowing this old friend other than our conversations, we were strangers. I gave my condolences and she said she would tell me about the service arrangements. We said goodbye as my heart ached.
I should have taken the time to talk. I wish I could have said goodbye but I didn't realize in the moment it was our last conversation.
I could roll with this guilt trip but he knew how I felt and I knew how he felt. We knew we might be saying goodbye for the last time at the end of most calls. He called me minutes before he died so that means everything. I had no idea I was that important to him.
I miss him.....
two hundred seventy nine
two hundred seventy eight
LETHARGIC
I will do this God willing because I’m stubborn and bull headed. Right now I need to move forward with my conditioning. I’m making progress and now I put it in words to be read by others. I have used talking trash to activate my ego. That usually gets me out the door.
two hundred seventy six
two hundred seventy five
The SR-71 Blackbird spy plane was developed using thousands of hours in early wind tunnels, chalk boards and slide rules. It was secretly designed and built in the 60's as a high altitude high speed spy plane during the Cold War. The declassified speed was 2193 miles per hour. The ultimate in thrust and aerodynamics far ahead of its time.
Racing bicycles are designed to reduce drag and air resistance. They are powered by one human so preserving this limited amount of energy is vital. Feather light aerodynamic bikes, aero wheels, aero positions, helmets, shoes and clothing are developed and tested in wind tunnels.
The ultimate in cycle track racing is run on indoor tracks in still air, on smooth wooden tracks on 200 psi tires to limit friction. Everything is aerodynamically designed plus the choreography of nose to tail drafting is an art. They reach sustained speeds of over 50 mph. I have been in a line of road bikes on a rolling highway once I could not believe the speeds we could maintain.