Yearly Archives: 2010

How Heat Damages Dehner Boots

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Shown here and below are photos of boots worn by motor officers who participated in the Law Ride that was held in Washington, DC, on May 9, 2010.

Look at the areas on the side of each officer’s right boot that is inside the red circle. You will see that the boot shaft in that area is a dull gray. That dull gray area on the boot demonstrates what happens to Dehner’s Dehcord (Clarino) product when it is exposed to heat of a motorcycle engine.

I have often pointed out that such damage occurs, and now can show visible proof.

It’s kinda a love-hate thing about Dehner Boots. They style is great. The quality of the material on the shaft of stock boots cannot withstand ordinary exposure to the heat of motorcycle engines. Why? It is plastic, not leather. The change of color and loss of shine is due to the plastic slightly melting and changing its composition just a little bit. Unfortunately, once damaged, the material cannot be repaired, fixed, or restored to its once lustrous shine.

Many cops have told me that they like stock Dehner boots because they are easy to care for. A quick spray of furniture polish and a wipe-down restores the boot shafts to a very shiny appearance. All except the area exposed to the hot engine, which dulls out rather quickly. Some cops don’t care, and some do. Those who do replace their boots quickly enough that it doesn’t matter to them if the boots “show character” from such damage incurred when worn on a police motorcycle.

I have to point out, while I am a Harley guy (thus the name), this damage occurs to Dehner boots worn on a Police Harley. The other manufacturer of police motorcyles — BMW — has its engine, engine guard, and exhaust pipes configured in such a way that the rider’s boot shaft doesn’t get close to the source of heat, so the boots do not discolor like they do when worn on a Harley.

If you like Dehner boots but don’t wear them while riding a Harley, then the stock version should suit you well. They are much less expensive than the all-leather version, which costs more than twice as much.

Life is short: know your boots.

Weird Email

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I received the following email message:

Sub: hi booted harleydude
Message:
dear booted harley dude
how you doing
i got apartment
you are cool
my home phone number is 352-xxx-xxxx
my cell phone number is 352-yyy-yyyy
mail it your leather pants
your friend [name withheld]

I am rather understanding and accepting of all people. However, this message left me scratching my head. What did this guy want? Who is he? This is the first message I have ever received from him.

One would think, “aw, give the guy a break. He may be from another country.” Generally, I would give a much wider latitude in not understanding how to write in English or communicate in a first message to someone who lived somewhere else, but this guy lives in the United States (I validated it from the IP address of the sender.)

I try hard to respond to every legitimate, non-viagra-vending-spam email message that I get. But this one left me confused and, to be honest, mildly offended.

I wrote back and said, “thanks for your message. I do not call people who I do not know on the telephone,” and left it at that.

If you received such a message, what would you have done?

Life is short: resolve confusion.

Travelers Do Stupid Things

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Photo above: my view of Mt. Rainer and the Cascades after departure from Seattle

For about 20 years in my old job, I traveled about 150,000 – 200,000 miles each year, going to some 70 – 80 locations, primarily throughout the United States. Large cities, small towns, islands, deserts, and everywhere in between.

I do not work for that employer any more, nor travel nearly as much. And after airport security was forever changed after the attacks of September 11, 2001, traveling by air has been nothing but a big PITA.

But it can also be amusing if you look and don’t let stupid things other people do annoy you. Here are some things that I observed on my recent trip to and from Seattle:

  • Going through security at BWI, after a woman takes off her shoes to run them through the x-ray, she asks the TSA agent staffing the machine, “will your machine be able to show me if I need to replace the soles on my shoes?”
  • [Yuppie carrying a huge cup of expensive coffee at security]: “Hell no, I won’t give you my coffee! I ‘need it’!” (Yeah, right… just admit it, you spent US$7 on a cup of coffee and you didn’t read the signs that you can’t bring it through security. Duhhh…)
  • [very important guy in a suit to security agent]: “I don’t have time for this. My flight leaves in ten minutes!” (Well, dumb-dumb, get up an hour earlier next time!)
  • [Ding-dong trying to carry three bags onto the plane, but stopped by the gate agent demanding that he check one bag]: “No, I have to have these bags when we land. My stuff is very important! (Yeah, you’re important, too. I’m really impressed.)
  • [Guy trying to put two bags in the overhead bin when asked five times to put one under the seat on the full flight]: “I need legroom!” (Yeah, well, your convenience and comfort is much more important that everyone else’s, isn’t it?)

But everyone isn’t a self-centered jerk. I also noticed:

  • Younger, tall guy lifting bags for three other people when the plane was loading and unloading.
  • A woman sharing a meal that she brought on-board with her seat mate.
  • Two men taking a middle seat (each) in the back so a young couple departing for their honeymoon could sit together in the ransom-payment “economy-plus” seating.
  • Many displays of patience, which these days, is more necessary than ever.

As I said, traveling these days isn’t much fun, especially when people say and do dumb things and think only of themselves. When they cooperate, follow the rules, and listen, the experience is much better.

Life is short: plan ahead, relax, and think before you act.

Happiness For A Day

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Life is short: show those you love that you love them. … so I frequently end posts on this blog when I speak about my family and legion of “elder buds.”

This past Saturday, my partner and I planted some flowers in a garden outside Mabel’s condo, so she could see them from her window and enjoy. We didn’t think much of it. She said that she liked to see flowers, and all the flowers she once had were gone, destroyed by snow, eaten by deer, gobbled by weeds.

In about an hour, my partner and I pulled weeds, turned the soil over, added some compost to enrichen it, and planted some daisies, coriopsis, and our state flower, Black-Eyed Susans. Mabel loved Black-Eyed Susans, in particular. I don’t quite know how I remembered that, but I did.

Mabel was so happy. She gave each of us a big hug, a huge warm smile, and thanked us profusely. We said, “nothin’ to it; glad to help.” We washed our hands and were on our way.

Sunday morning, Mabel phoned. Once again, she described how happy she was to wake up, open her blinds, and see the flowers. She said that she knew she could call early (6:30am) because she knew I was always an early riser.

“Mabel, thanks for your call. Seriously, nothin’ to it. You made us some great casseroles when I was laid up with my broken leg. It’s what we do: help each other. Thank you for the thanks, which warms our hearts. Seeing your smile is our rich reward.”

Monday morning, Mabel’s neighbor called me to let me know that the ambulance came to Mabel’s condo, followed by the coroner. Mabel died in her sleep. That surprised me. She had not been ill, and she wasn’t “that old.” She was 78. Always bright, peppy, and full of good cheer. I knew that she had a history of heart problems, which is why she gave up driving her own car. She was afraid that “some crazy driver will cause me to have a heart attack!” She always said that with a laugh, but I sensed that she was seriously frightened.

Mabel gave up her car six months ago. I helped her sell it. Then I began including Mabel on my regular rounds of older folks who I take to the grocery store for shopping trips. Mabel was doing well. She was getting rides, using the bus, and otherwise getting around rather well on her own. She admitted to me rather sheepishly on Saturday morning that she had me take her to the store because she liked spending time with me — but she really didn’t need it. She was managing well on her own.

Mabel taught me a lot of things. She was an avid historian. I learned a lot of history of my own state, and about the U.S. Revolution. She shared information in an entertaining and informative manner, dropping in occasional lines like “Charles Carroll of Carrollton was the last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence when he died at age 95 — 40 years beyond the life expectancy of someone of his cohort.” She always talked like that… sprinkled scientific terminology with history. I shall always cherish what I learned from Mabel spending time in my life. Sharing with me. Being my friend.

Mabel was so very happy — for a day — the day being Sunday, the last day of her life. All because of a few measly flowers that we planted on a Saturday afternoon. Who woulda thunk?

Life is short: show those you love that you love them. Do it now… you never know.

Posted in joy

Fitting It All In

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“Busy” doesn’t define this past weekend. Lots and lots on the list, but lots got done. You read about our gardening chores for some of my elder buds in yesterday’s post. On Sunday, I did much more.

First, at dawn, I snuggled close to my partner, watching the sunrise, the birds chirp, and together, we planned our day. I got up, fetched the paper, and went to swim for an hour. Upon my return (before 8am, still), I prepared home-made waffles (the kind you make with flour, corn starch, baking powder, etc. Not from a mix).

After breakfast, I changed into biker gear (leather jeans, shirt, and tall lug-soled Chippewa boots). My partner started preparing our gardens to receive the plants we grew in our basement over the winter, as well as those which we bought on Saturday. I went to my Aunt’s home to check on her, feed her breakfast, and give her the meds she takes regularly. Then I went to a location where I joined some friends for a motorcycle ride.

I rode my Harley for about three hours. The ride was sweeeeet! The weather was cloudy and coolish — great “leather weather!” We rode throughout the Maryland byways on back roads with a good-sized group of some 15 bikes. I rode sweep (last), which I am finding is my favourite position. While it is a safety position, since all members of my group keep their bikes in tip-top shape, I don’t have to worry about someone having a breakdown. Instead, I just sit back, put my boots up on the highway pegs, and enjoy the view of the Harleys in front and the countryside to the left and to the right.

Side note: there were a lot of “Sunday bikers” out there. A “Sunday biker” is someone out riding his Harley, but wearing improper clothing and the worst: sneakers. At least the riders in my group always wear the right gear for the ride, including boots.

When I arrived home in the early afternoon, my partner and I enjoyed some lunch. After that, we planted away in our gardens. My partner loves do this, and it is my pleasure to help him.

When we were done at 4pm, we both were very tired. We shucked our clothes and got into the hot tub to unwind.

Dinner, served promptly at 6pm, included home-made pasta (made last week, so all I had to do was boil it), chicken, and a salad.

After dinner, I wrote this blog post, then shut down the computer. Bedtime rolls around early on these very busy days.

Life is short: get ‘er done!

Harvesting Smiles

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I admit, I whined somewhat on Saturday when the weather was spectacular, bright and sunny, with a low dew point and mild. It was a gorgeous day and the Harley… remained in the garage. Oh man, would I have loved to have been out riding. But something else took priority.

Besides the non-ending and ever-expanding “honey-do” list at home, I have three older friends who are still living independently, but whose mobility and ability to function are limited. Each have recently given up driving, which was very hard for them to do, but had to be done. They each were gardeners in their day, having lovely gardens around their respective homes. Each of them told me how much they missed seeing annuals out their windows, and looked kinda forlorn and sad.

My partner and I remedied the situation. When we were at the nursery on Saturday, buying the obligatory plants for our own gardens, I turned to my partner with a look that made him cry out, “what’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

As a tear ran down my face, I explained what Mabel, Iris, and George each had told me, in their own way, about missing flowers in their gardens.

Ever the problem-solver, my partner said, “okay, let’s buy a some extra flats of this-and-that.” US$100 later, flats of flowers brimming from the back of my truck, we left the nursery and drove right over to my elder buds’ homes. We planted the flowers in their gardens all afternoon. It was back-breaking work, as the gardens hadn’t been turned over, de-weeded, or otherwise tended in some time. We mixed in some additional “clay-breaker” soil and compost from our yard, then applied mulch, which was free for the taking from a county-provided supply.

The smiles we harvested immediately were worth the effort, and made me feel better. Even though I couldn’t go riding, and our own gardens still need to be planted, the days’ work could not have been more “worth it.”

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

My Brother-in-Heart

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This is my brother-in-heart, AZ. I found a couple pictures on my computer that I had not processed yet. These pics were taken of us when I visited him in Arizona in September, 2009. What a wonderful guy. How blessed I am to have him in my life as my best friend. His smile warms my heart, and his heart warms my smile.

Seattle Sights

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I write blog post 800 from Seattle, Washington, USA. I haven’t been here since 2001. Still as hilly… but let me tell ‘ya a secret: it does not rain here all the time. Shhhh… don’t tell ’em, but it is sunny and pleasant. I came here to give a speech. Did it, got the ovation, warm regards, “atta-boys” etc., etc. As you are reading this, I am winging my way back home.

While here, I had a very pleasant opportunity to meet a guy whose screen name on BOL is Hwystud. What a nice guy! We enjoyed a very nice seafood dinner on the waterfront under bright sunny skies with mild temps. We talked about our lives, interests, and — of course — boots! I truly enjoyed visiting this beautiful city and meeting a great Bootman. Thanks, Hwystud, for such enjoyable company.

If you look real hard in the photo below, you can see Mt. Rainier.

Life is short: enjoy the great people you meet along the way.


Are You That Leather Boot Dude?

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The other day when I came home, I changed from my work duds to full leather. Naked leather jeans, leather shirt, and an old but favourite leather vest, my “Skyrider” vest that my partner had made for me when we went to the Sturgis motorcycle rally in 1995. It was an unusually cool, clammy, wet day: perfect for leather.

I heard the mail truck and went out to get the mail. The truck was just pulling up to my box. The postal carrier was busy looking at the mail on his lap, deciding which was mine and which went to the next house. He handed me the mail and then looked at me. Let’s say he did a double-take, “leather bounce.” That is, he looked up at my face, then down at my boots, then slowly back up again, looking at the leather jeans, then the shirt and vest.

He said, “nice gear! Hey, are you that leather boot dude?”

I didn’t quite know what to say. Not knowing if he recognized me from my blog or website, I just played coy, and replied, “thanks for the compliment.”

He said, “hey, I recognize you. I was reading your website a few weeks ago and decided to get myself some of those Chippewa fire boots you talked about from that store in San Francisco. See?” Then he pointed to his feet. Darned enough, he had on a pair of Chippewa Firefighter Boots. He went on to rave about the comfort of the boots and said that he found my website informational and helpful. Gee, thanks again, man. I’m glad to meet a “happy customer.”

He seemed to have all the time in the world, and wanted to know more about my gear that I had on, how comfortable it was, where I got it, how much it cost, how it fit, and so on and so on. I had to bug off because it was damn cold and I didn’t have a jacket on. The leather was warm enough for a short trip to the mailbox, but not for standing out in the drizzle and cold shootin’ the breeze about boots and leather with the local postal carrier. (Too bad he was a substitute for our regular carrier. I’d like to see him again and continue the conversation.)

Anyway, you never know who you influence or what they think, but it just goes to show that almost anyone can be a boot and leather dude incognito.

Life is short: wear your leather (and BOOTS!)

Proof of My Point

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Yesterday at about 5am my time, I posted one message on the Hot Boots “Boots on Line” board linking to my gallery of photos that I took on the Law Ride on Sunday, May 9.

So far, the post got two replies, from my dear friend “KneeHighGuy” and Larry, the webmaster of Hotboots.com.

One would think, “only two replies? Does anybody care? Is anybody reading it?”

Yep… I have proof in statistical page views and visits. In 24 hours since I made that post, that gallery has received 1,085 visitors from that one link on BOL, with 3,104 page views (a “page view” is looking at one page or one picture. One visitor often views more than one page, so the number of page views will always be higher than the number of visitors.)

So if you whine or worry that you post a message on BOL and “nobody reads it” because of few or no replies, have no fear. They are. Believe me, they are.

Life is short: tell us about your boots on BOL!