Yearly Archives: 2009

Half Full or Half Empty?

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I’m sure you have heard the question, “is the glass half full, or half empty?” It is commonly used to distinguish the difference on how someone views life — with an optimistic (half full) perception, or a pessimistic (half empty) perception.

I just returned from spending the weekend with my partner at his mother’s home. She lives near Pittsburgh. Regretfully, she is always one who sees the glass as half-empty.

Listening to a constant barrage of how bad things are (or will be) all day is very trying on the nerves of someone like me who is truly an optimist. Try as I might to point out the good things in life, she inevitably will look for something bad. But I did what several friends recommended: I pasted on a big bright smile and tried my hardest not to let her attitude get to me.

While I was there, I took action to rectify a situation that was unsafe: her home’s old electrical system. The original wiring was more than 50 years old. (Fortunately, electrical work for central air and a new stove had been added on separately and more recently.) Her old system was blowing fuses, and some outlets or switches would not work any more. While she probably could afford to have her house rewired by an electrician, it would cost a lot and while she is not destitute, the cost estimates that my partner got for her were more than she was willing to spend.

So this past weekend, I spent many hours replacing all of the original wiring, outlets, and switches. Now she has a new circuit panel box (instead of old, round buss fuses), grounded outlets, Ground Fault Interrupt outlets where code requires (bathroom, kitchen, basement), and more outlets so she no longer has to run extension cords for anything.

It took the better part of two days to run all the wiring, conceal it properly inside the walls, connect it to the panel box, and have a licensed master electrician connect it to the main power feed from the utility pole. (While I have an electrician’s license, mine is issued by Maryland, not Pennsylvania.)

The electrical work was done, looks good, works well, and brings her house up to code. There are no longer any fire hazards from her old wiring, or from all those extension cords (which always frightened me.) My partner worked a lot outside on the yard and gardens while I was fishing wires and connecting outlets and switches.

When we were all done, enjoying the fruits of our labors, my M-I-L said, “thanks, but what happens when…” then rattled off a number of rare but possible things that could happen, like a tripped circuit, a GFI “popping” (that is, doing what it is supposed to do if there may be a short caused by a splash of water), etc. She even dreamed up impossible things like the electric company raising her rates or charging her more on her monthly bill because she has more outlets than she ever had before. (She isn’t the brightest bulb on the planet.) It was very hard to describe that electric bills are tied to consumption, and that if you don’t have something plugged into an outlet, then just having an outlet doesn’t mean that the electric bill will go up.

We had a bit of a tug-o-war over whether or not “all those extra outlets” were needed. It was hard for her to accept my explanation that she may move a lamp sometime, or furniture may get rearranged, or at some point, someone else may be living there and will want to use outlets in different places from those she uses.

My partner tried to keep her calm and explain things, bless him. But without realizing it, he got caught up in the pessimism as well some times. There were periods when I was working to turn both of their attitudes around. I feel, however, negativity and pessimism is par for the course with my M-I-L.

The difference in the “half-full” – “half-empty” approach comes from one of the fundamental differences of my partner and my backgrounds. He was raised in a pessimistic atmosphere, where I was raised in an optimistic one. I always thought that good things happen much more than bad; we should try to make good things happen for others; and most people are good and try to do the right thing. My partner was not. After 16 years of exposure to me, he generally is optimistic and forward-looking. He just has these set-backs every now-and-then when we spend time with his mother.

But we did make lemonade out of lemons, one smile and off-key tune at a time. (My jaw aches from all the smiling I did all weekend, and my partner will be more than happy if he doesn’t hear me sing The Bright Side of Life any more LOL!) Thanks, “AZ,” Kevin, and John for reminding me to keep smiling. Your advice always works for me, because you have the optimistic attitude that helps keep my focus.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them, each and every day — even if you have to spend a lot of energy sometimes do that.

Mentoring

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Every now and then, I form a relationship with someone who looks to me for help, guidance, sharing experience, advice, and information. This is more than just asking questions and my answering them. These relationships are more like “mentorships.”

Three recent examples come to mind.

The 21-year-old novice biker I met in late April has become a riding buddy. I don’t have much of a chance to get out and ride as frequently as I would like to do that, but when I do, I try to arrange to go ride with him. I have often said that the best motorcycle training after taking a Motorcycle Safety Foundation course is to go on rides with experienced, safe riders. I consider myself in the latter category.

The younger guy appreciates my time, attention, and advice. And he acts on it. He also dresses the part more appropriately as well. Instead of buying some new electronic gizmo, he invested in a quality full-face helmet, a pair of sturdy Chippewa engineer boots, and is saving up to get some quality protective gear when the weather gets cooler. Good for him. His riding skills have significantly improved. I am visibly seeing that he is more relaxed, attentive to what matters while riding, and his confidence is building. He’s coming along very well. I’m proud of him.

In another recent circumstance, I received an email that said,

I’m a cop, and just got assigned to the motor unit after several attempts. I am now taking all of the training on operating a Harley. I get along well with the guys on the squad, but… I’m gay. I don’t know how to tell them. I’m afraid of their reaction. How do I deal with this? I have been reading your blog, and find what you have to say inspirational. Can we talk?

Talk we have, and we have shared a lot of email, too. He’s a very nice guy, and I can understand where he’s coming from; however, with him being half my age, it’s hard for me to remember what he is going through. Also, while I worked for homophobes when I was his age, I didn’t work in a hypermasculine environment. I am learning from him as he is learning from me. At least with me, he knows he’s safe and he can tell me what’s really on his mind. I am finding that my mentorship is more of a masculine gay role model. We rant and rave about gay stereotyping, which is still quite prevalent today. But we also figure out strategies to deal with it. This fine young officer will do quite well. He has a good head on his shoulders, and thinks before he acts. He also thinks before he opens his mouth — which is a rare thing these days, sometimes, with some people.

The third recent mentorship is with a woman who has found some time and energy to get involved in civic affairs. She wants to learn how to deal with the politics and the wranglings of our complex county. She wants to get involved in advocacy on behalf of underserved, under-attended residents who are often overlooked when it comes to dealing with development, schools, transportation, zoning, and the overall bureaucracy our home geopolitical glob-o-sphere of almost one million residents.

She is going with me to meetings, she is asking the right questions, she is meeting people. Then she calls or emails me to vent. It is very frustrating to deal with some of these people. I have probably forgotten more about these matters than other people know. I guess it comes from growing up and living within five miles of where I was born. I’m not a mover or shaker. I just consider myself a steady, well-connected, advocate for what’s right. And yeah, I’ve been around the block once or twice. I am glad to have someone to help bring along into the process. We need people to step up and exercise civic duty and pride to make our community, our county, and our state a better place to live for all.

Taking someone under your wing requires time, attention, and patience. But it’s well worth it. This is the kind of stuff I live for, and what gives me the most personal pride. It sorta makes me feel like my life is worthwhile, and appreciated.

Life is short: show someone that you care.

Rolling Thunder

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Rolling Thunder XXII occurs today, the Sunday before Memorial Day here in the good ol’ USA. It stages at the Pentagon and ends up in Washington, DC.

This is an annual demonstration for POW/MIAs and Veterans issues. It is not a parade of balding, fat, drunken bikers as sometimes is reported in the media.

I have ridden my Harley with a large contingent from my home county down to the staging area at the Pentagon, then queued up to ride into Washington DC, around the U.S. Capitol, and ultimately ending up on the west side of the city near (relatively speaking) the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial. There, various dignitaries and event organizers speak and describe concerns of the day. After all, this is a demonstration, not a parade.

Will I be there this year? No. I haven’t gone in several years. Why? Well, I find that I’m better able to support vets in my community. I tend to focus my support in narrow, but I think meaningful, ways. Two of the tenants in my rental properties are veterans. I give them a break on the rent, so they can afford to live in the county where they work, and send their kids to outstanding public schools. I spend some time with a well-regarded non-profit organization that supports returning soldiers and their families in a variety of ways. The horrors of war and their experiences affect their ability to return to civilian life, so we help out with that, as needed and requested.

Further, when I have attended, our group lines up among the hundreds of thousands of others. Even to get a mid-slot in the line up, you have to get there very early. There is no shade, so a hat, sunscreen, sunglasses, and very comfortable boots are required. You’ll stand there for hours and hours waiting your turn to mount up on your bike and ride. Meanwhile, you look around at everyone else’s bikes and just wait. There isn’t much to do, and the wait can be six or more hours. (I’m not whining; I am just stating facts from experience.)

In the past two times I went (a few years ago), I made it to the final destination at about 4:00pm, which was well after most of the speeches had ended. It really wasn’t worth the hassle and exhaustion. The crowds are overwhelming. And I just betcha the boots will be outnumbered by the sneakers… but that’s a different story.

Finally, I’m not even in town. This blog post was written and scheduled for posting to appear today while I’m away. I couldn’t go if I wanted to. But I’ll still let out a sigh when I see throngs of bikers on the highway, or hear a Harley rumble off in the distance. I would rather be riding — anywhere — but an obligation and a promise to my mother-in-law prevents me from doing that.

Overall, the demonstration, attention, and concerns that Rolling Thunder brings to light are important. I hope everyone has a good time, rides safely, wears a helmet, and is able to voice concerns on behalf of (and pay tribute to) those who have served, and are serving, in our Armed Forces on behalf of our great country.

Oh, before I left town, my partner and I went to the cemetery, and put up a flag at my Dad’s grave. He was a veteran of WWII, and I won’t forget.

Attention Span of a Gnat

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A fellow Bootman who has his own Yahoo Group lamented recently about sending out photos showing his work in boot photography, but was concerned that he hardly ever received any comments, thank-yous, or “attaboys.”

I have seen the trend of this type of thing occurring on boards like “Boots on Line” and Jared’s “Abootfetish” Yahoo group.

After I took the time to compose, crop, and edit lots of photos and posted them in various places, I was disappointed that I hardly received any replies or comments or email. I once thought, “nobody pays attention, nobody cares.”

Well, that’s not true. Lots of people pay attention–I have proof! I have software that works on every page of my website and blog that shows me what pages are being viewed, and where people come from. When I post a message with a link to my website or blog, I see upwards of over 2,000 visitors within 24 hours after posting the link. That’s pretty amazing, considering how narrow the field of interest there is about boots.

On top of that, about 80% of the daily visitors to my website and blog come from Google and other search engines. Last week, I was reaching new heights (in absolute numbers) of the number of unique visitors to my website. (All due to the Law Ride 2009 photo galleries.)

There are a few people, such as my local Silver Spring, DC, and NoVa Bootman lurkers, who have bookmarked my blog and/or website home page, and visit every day. But few people bookmark web pages any more. Most visitors “surf in” and “surf out.”

My stats indicate that about half of the visitors to my blog and website are on for less than 5 seconds. That indicates to me that they stumbled upon it while surfing the ‘net, and didn’t stay. Ooooh… heaven forbid! Aaak! he’s gay! Run for the … [next website].

The next most common visit length for my website or blog is from 30 seconds to 5 minutes. There are some visitors who stay longer, but most have very short visits.

I have learned a number of things from observing how visitors visit:

  • Most visitors come from search engines.
  • Those who come from links usually drop in and leave quickly. This is an indication of true “surfing” behavior.

  • There remains strong interest in certain things that I blog about: Muir Caps, wearing leather in public, and motor cops, but not some other things. Oh well, it’s my blog; I’ll blog about what I like.

  • There are a lot more people looking at what you post on the Internet than you think. Most don’t say anything because they either don’t know how — or, more likely, they are doing what they do on the ‘net: they are surfing.
  • Most visitors have the attention span of a gnat.

I am not saying that most visitors have the brain capacity of a gnat. I am saying that they surf along at a rapid rate and are scanning, rather than reading.

Us older guys who were taught to read by Mrs. Snaggletooth in first grade have trouble understanding that the kids in their 20s now (born in the late 1980s) did not learn how to read like we were taught back in the early ’60s. They were taught to read using a process of sight scanning for key words and page elements. We were taught to read word-for-word, where they were taught to read “for meaning” (however interpreted through sight scanning.)

Further, much pedagogical research indicates that the vast majority of humans “read” images much more than they read words. Why are the world’s printed newspapers dying? Kids don’t read. They scan, and they scan using the tool that they grew up with (and us older guys didn’t): the world wide web on the Internet.

It’s time for us older guys to have a change of heart about how we view the world as it is engaged by younger people. They have an attention span of a gnat, but they do not lack intelligence. They just apply it differently.

… Something to think about… and it’s only the older guys who have gotten this far on this blog post. The younger dudes surfed away hours ago, and probably have twittered at least 20 tweets since then.

Support Your Local Motorcycle Cop

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Come and get ’em! Thanks to your votes, and dialogue with some fine motor officers who were in DC for Police Week, I had bumper stickers made:


These stickers are [not] available [any more].

The stickers were 3″ x 10″ printed in high-resolution and quality. They featured a motor officer in Motor Patrol Boots on his Police Harley.

Do You Ever Rest?

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Last week, several friends asked me, “do you ever rest?” Sure! 61:40 hours each week!

61:40 hours? How do you figure? How do you know this so precisely? You work full time, you do repairs and go grocery shopping for elderly people, you take care of your house and yard, do some consulting, attend a bunch of meetings as a civic leader, mentor some people, take care of your aunt, prepare home-cooked meals, keep blogging, update your websites… how do you have that much time to rest?

Well….

Friday night after I get home from the regular family dinner, my partner and I turn off the TV and the computer, put some music on the CD player or turn on the piano (it plays itself), and then we just sit back, hold each other, and relax. This practice of “Friday night snuggle night” has been a regular for us for years, and one we both cherish.

Weekend mornings as dawn breaks, we get closer, and I may rest my head on my partner’s chest. Listening to his heartbeat and his soft breathing is very relaxing to me. He may scratch my back, and snuggle tighter. Touch is a very important element to our togetherness. We will rest together that way for about an hour before rising to get the day going.

I’m also a believer in “power naps.” For about 20 minutes each day on my subway ride home from downtown DC to my stop out in the ‘burbs, I zonk out. So there’s a whole 1:40 extra minutes of sleep. Damn, I’m a bum!

I sleep about eight hours each night. Eight hours??? Yup. My body demands it. With as much running around as I do, when it comes time to go to bed, I crash. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out like a light.

Despite all the demands on my time, I am in bed by 8:30, or 9 at the latest. Even if I have to leave a meeting early, angering some as I do that. Tough. I know what my body needs and what I require in order to function day-to-day. Eight hours of sleep, each night. Period.

Well then, doing the math, 7 days x 8 hours = 56… add 1:40 of power nap time… the rest is snuggle time with the man I love. 61:40 hours is a lot of rest time. Heck, that’s 36.7% of my entire week! And if I’m really lucky, we’ll even hang in the hammock in our back yard park for a couple hours on a nice weekend afternoon. More rest, relaxation, and closeness. I’m wasting time with all this rest! I’m so lazy!

Life is short: keep it balanced.

Police Week: Sucker for a Smiling Cop

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I am a sucker for a smile. It brightens my day to see people smile, and I smile often myself. But I am especially happy to see a cop whose smile naturally compliments his attractiveness, such as the officer shown here.

I met him on Law Ride on May 10. He is among those who explained the differences between riding a Police Harley and a Police BMW, that I blogged about last week. He is from the city of Folsom, California. He joined the bunch from Sacramento County who trucked their police BMWs back to DC so they could participate in the various events of Police Week.

This officer is a very nice guy. He smiles naturally as you speak with him. It’s obvious that he likes people, enjoys his job, takes it seriously, and that he is naturally talented to succeed in his line of work.

I saw him again last Friday as law enforcement officers and officials were gathering at the U.S. Capitol for a somber memorial service to remember those who have died in the line of duty, and to hear various elected officials pay tribute to the dedication and service that law enforcement officers provide to keep all of us safe.

Because the service was formal, all of the officers dressed in their most formal uniforms, including this officer. His uniform was clean and pressed; his boots were shined to perfection. It was a bit warm that day (80°F, 27°C) but quite humid (more typical of the humidity Washington is known for in the dead of summer, not in May.) This officer appeared to be a bit warm, and I asked about that. He said, “yeah, I’m steamy.”

Well, officer, you’ve made me steamy, too (LOL). I enjoyed our conversations. I was pleased to take your photo with your camera of you and your bike at the Capitol. Thank you for letting me take your photo with my camera as well. Also, thanks much for adding to this humble guy’s knowledge and appreciation for your fine work, appearance, and classy style.

Law Ride: Photo Gallery

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I took about 150 pictures and some video during Law Ride last Sunday. I liked this picture a lot, and so did many others.

After Law Ride was over, my life continued its usual tightly controlled spin, with working full-time, consulting, helping neighbors, planning a big community home-repair event at the end of the month and securing donations for it, attending some meetings in my community, checking in on my aunt, and caring for my partner and our home. This is all while still insisting on getting 8 hours of sleep each night.

Thus, the time required to crop and edit the photos, then to write code (which I do directly, not with any web page-producing software) … it’s a rather heavy demand. But it all comes down to balance and multitasking.

Well, it’s all done now, and posted on my website. I announced it on Wednesday last week, and again last night after I added a gallery on the Beemer Ballet. The traffic to my website has been tremendous. If you haven’t seen the gallery yet, drop by for a visit!

Life is short: wear your (cop) boots!

Law Ride: A Cop’s Influence

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I saw these nice-looking Chippewa Hi-Shine engineer boots with lug soles on a handsome cop last year at Law Ride.

There was something that just caught my eye about these boots. The man filling them and his uniform was attractive, but nice looking uniforms on a fit cop all look nice to me. He was among a very few who wore a leather jacket. That was an added element of attraction.

But still… I kept looking at those boots. What was interesting to me (in my self-conversation) was that I already had two pairs of these boots, so why was I attracted to yet another pair of the same boots? I dunno. I really don’t know. Don’t try to ask a Bootman what attracts him to boots. It’s just one of those things I live with (and really don’t mind!)

Soon thereafter, I took a pair of my own Chippewa Hi-Shine boots to a cobbler, and asked him to put lug soles on them. He did, but to be honest, I wasn’t all that happy with the results. He installed a sole plate — a rather thin addition to the sole. He did not remove the old sole (which was still in good shape) and replace it with a new Vibram 100 sole. The cobbler looked at me as if I were from Mars when I asked if he would install a thick Vibram 100 lug sole on top of the existing nitrile sole. Instead, he just put on the sole plates, thinking that’s what I wanted. Nobody really wants a double-soled boot (so he thought).

Oh well, fa cosi sia. I learned. I wear those boots from time to time. As the year progressed and as I continued to chat with Mike, the owner of Stompers Boots, I felt rather badly that his business was suffering from the downturn in the economy. So as a Christmas present to myself, I ordered another new pair of Chippewa Hi-Shine engineer boots from Stompers. As a favor to me, Mike ran across town to get a cobbler to install a thick Vibram 100 sole for me (and I paid extra for that). Mike knew what to ask for, and I finally got what I wanted.

That cop last year influenced this Bootman, and I am very happy with the results. Very fine-looking tall black boots with a snow tire on the sole, so I have excellent traction when I wear them while riding my Harley. In fact, very early yesterday morning when I rode my bike to the University to swim for an hour, I had those boots on. I arrived at the empty parking lot and noticed that it had been swept clear of residual cinders and sand left over from the winter. So I began to do some practice on tight turns, trying to beat my record of a complete u-turn in a very tight space (within 1-1/2 parking slots). These boots provided the traction and stability I needed as I turned and had to put my boot down to avoid dropping the bike on the few times I turned way too tight. That boot sole planted firmly on the pavement held me up. If it slipped the slightest amount, I would have dropped my bike; that simple.

Funny how these influences go ’round. While last year I was really interested in that cop’s boots and got myself a pair, this year, several cops came up to me to ask me about my pair of these boots that I wore to Law Ride. I was happy to talk with them, answer their questions, and refer them to Stomper Boots, the best boot shop in the world.

Life is short: wear your boots proudly!

Going to IML in Chicago?

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Time is rolling around again for the International Mr. Leather Contest, which will be held May 21-25 in Chicago, Illinois, USA.

I referred a buddy to my blog post that I wrote last year about IML. He replied saying, “gosh, this isn’t what I wanted to hear.” My friend is going to IML, but his interest is hanging out with fellow gear-guys, not having a one-night stand. While my partner and I have no interest in returning to IML again, we are happy we went two years ago to see what it was all about. Call it “one of the things to do in a long career as leathermen.”

To try to give some balance to what may be perceived as a dislike for IML or Chicago, which isn’t true, here is what I said to my friend in an email reply:

You will LOVE Chicago. It is a great town to visit. It is a very walkable city (flat, few hills) and they’re very leather-friendly. Feel free to go fully leathered while being a tourist.

There are lots of things to see and do in Chicago. And it’s the best town in the USA for pizza. Lots and lots of choices, all over the place. (And every local has a favorite they claim is better than all the rest. Don’t worry, you really can’t go wrong anywhere except perhaps Pizza Hut! LOL!) Try Lou Malnati’s, which is just a couple blocks from the Hilton. Get “deep dish” which has more ingredients, not more dough. Definitely the pizza to get in Chicago!

There are some great museums, though I have to admit that I am spoiled by having the Smithsonians, which are all free to enter. But admissions are part of the price of being a tourist.

Don’t go see a movie! You can do that at home. Go see the city. It is vibrant, alive, and fun. It’s also generally safe, especially along the Miracle Mile. That’s the name of the section of Michigan Avenue with the high-end stores, shopping, restaurants, but also tourist stuff to see, like “the bean.” “The Bean” is really cool and you should definitely boot up and go see it — and take your picture reflected in it. See the pics on my website.

There are a fairly large number of panhandlers around. It’s cruel, but hold your head up and walk on by. Don’t look them in the eye or establish eye contact. Do not give one money; the rest will follow you worse than a flock of pigeons.

As in any city, keep your wallet in your front pocket, not in a back pocket or a jacket. There could be pickpockets around, too.

As for transportation, yes, there are lots of taxis. Plenty will be at the hotel. There will be some at the bars, too. However, we didn’t use taxis when we were there. We didn’t go to the local leather bars during IML, but I have been to them before. The Chicago leather bars are about 3 – 4 miles away from downtown. IML provides buses to the leather bars at night, late into the night. The bars are packed during IML, dark, loud, and hard to talk to anyone due to the crowds. We decided not to go to the leather bars during IML because the night would run waaaay too late for us. We’re just not the night-owl types. We would rather just play tourist wide-awake during the day, staring with a great breakfast (There’s a great breakfast diner “Yolks” just a few blocks from the hotel on Michigan Avenue; try it!)

The public transit system (subway and trains) is very good, and reasonably priced. We took the train from O’Hare Airport into the city and then walked to our hotel. For $2.25, we got to the hotel directly and inexpensively. The train trip takes about an hour, but it’s still faster than using a shuttle or taxi, stuck in traffic.

I went to Chicago a few weeks ago and stayed in the very same hotel where IML will be held… note, it is about a 7-block walk from the train exit at Jackson to the hotel, and I wouldn’t recommend it in the dark. But in daylight, it’s fine. And an easy walk on the flat, wide sidewalks. Alternatively, you can use the train to get downtown and then get a cab from the train exit to the hotel. That would probably only cost $5 including tip. I’m cheap, and I walk! Be sure to have luggage with wheels!

IML itself is worth seeing. Don’t skip out on the events you paid for with your registration. Go see the introductions, stroll through the leathermart and see things you wouldn’t imagine existed. Get your boots shined (for only the cost of a tip) by one of the bootblacks competing for Mr. Bootblack. Go to the final fashion show (Mr. IML contest.) It’s interesting, and honestly, you’ll never be in a place with as many leather-clad guys anywhere else. It’s kinda cool to be all leathered up and be around all those men.

It’s also fun to hang out in the host hotel lobby and watch the leather clan come-and-go. Many of them are so funny. There are a lot of once-a-year leather dudes who worry more about their hairstyle or how straight their leather tie is than anything else. They’ll stand there yapping away on their cell phones or texting trying to find their friends. They will watch other guys to see how they’re dressed, who they’re talking to, and what they’re doing. Those kind of guys crack me up. My partner and I spent hours people-watching. We had a lot of fun — only if they knew what was really on our minds. (My partner and I would exchange what we thought were “thought bubbles” for some guys, and then burst out laughing. I’m sure everyone around us thought we were nuts.)

Anyway, relax, have fun, go play tourist, and DO IT IN LEATHER AND BOOTS! And since you’re flying there, be sure to check out my “Air Travel With Leather Gear” guide. It can help you decide how to pack.