Kindnesses

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Today I write about kindnesses that I have observed and that have been extended to me, to others, to those I love, and to perfect strangers. Humanity is a strange and complex thing. When it is extended to others for no reason other than to be kind, gentle, thoughtful and caring, it warms my heart deep down to my soul. Today I point out a few people whose kindnesses are observed, valued, and appreciated:

My partner, the love of my life. Each day, I observe what he does to make my life easier. He carries out lots of actions at home “behind the scenes” to free up my time so I can carry on the crazy-busy life that I lead. He is my cheerleader and champion. When I came home the other day a bit dejected about an issue at work, he listened. Then he gave me support by describing my skills that I can engage to overcome this challenge. He demonstrated how much he believes in me. How blessed I am to have him as my best half.

My best friend, AZ, has been pulled many different directions in the past month, what with buying a home, yet caring for two dear friends who were hospitalized and needed attention which he freely gave without equivocation. Further, a close mutual friend has been going through a very rough time. AZ has expressed in thought, word, and deed how compassionate, thoughtful, and caring he is. It is no wonder why I adore him so much, as my adopted eighth brother.

Mrs. K, one of my “elder buds,” who learned from me that my aunt needed to get exercise every day. Without asking, Mrs. K shows up at my aunt’s door and says, “let’s take a walk.” Gently, carefully, and slowly, they stroll around the neighborhood. They stop to observe baby fawns, families of geese parading their young, and squirrels playing in the trees. To hear my aunt describe what she sees is wonderful. What a kind, sweet, thoughtful daily gesture that my friend, Mrs. K, extends to my aunt because Mrs. K likes me. She never knew my aunt until a month ago, and now they’re fast friends. What a joy, what sheer delight, in receiving this help for someone who I love dearly.

Man on Metro. I do not know this gentleman’s name, but I see him regularly on my ride home from the office. Without fail, he assists people — lost tourists trying to figure out the confusing Metro map and system, older or disabled people who need a seat, or just picking up discarded newspapers. He demonstrates thoughtfulness in all he does. He thinks no one notices. I do. He sets a great example for me.

G, the grocery store associate. She greets us by name every time we go to the store when she is there. She mentions good buys to consider. She is joyful, friendly, and such a happy person that you can’t help but smile. She puts up with a lot of grief from the me-me-me people who go to the store and complain about stupid stuff, yet always, she demonstrates kindness in a thousand ways.

F, a mentee. I am working with her on a vexing local issue in my community. She listens exceptionally well, communicates with clear and concise understanding and grasp of difficult details, yet with humor and grace. While I am teaching her the finer points of community service and activism, she is teaching me about working with people who do not always “get it.” What a great team we have made. Oh, did I mention, I just love her smile, too.

O, a very hard working man in our community. He works from sun-up to sun-down seven days a week, earning a meager income to support his family both here where we live and in his home country. He never complains, and he always is working. Rain, sun, heat, cold, whatever… he is a true demonstration of what “work ethic” means. And he does all of his work with kindness and thoughtfulness to those for whom he provides service. As if they were his family. He teaches me that despite ignorant comments directed his way about his situation in life, that actions speak louder than words.

Kindness means a lot to me. I observe it in others, and try to emulate the good things I observe in what I do.

Life is short: be kind to others.

How has being a biker impacted your life?

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That’s a great question. A regular reader of this blog asked me this question, so I pondered it and I thought I would post a public response.

I guess I can say that being a biker has made my life more fun. It has given me a good reason to wear boots and leather often, and it has introduced me to some really great people who have become friends with whom I enjoy a shared passion. Riding a motorcycle is a heck of a lot more fun than driving a car. I go crazy cooped up in a cage (as bikers call cars.)

Before my partner became disabled, we rode together frequently, with him as my passenger. We loved riding two-up, and went to some interesting places. Riding together drew us closer so motorcycling impacted our lives by helping to build a strong bond built from having fun together.

Motorcycling has also brought sadness to me, when I witnessed a very close friend get killed by someone who was talking on a cell phone while driving and ran into him, killing him instantly, right before my eyes. That incident has made me very passionate about banning the use of cell phones while driving, which I advocate for before our spineless state General Assembly every year, and will continue to do so until the law passes.

That incident, plus training I have had over the years, has made me much more aware about what is going on around me. I am more vigilant not only when I am operating my Harley, but also when I am driving my truck, or just when I am out and about in general. I pretend that no one else can see me. I try to keep a lot of distance in front, in back, and on both sides of my vehicle. Then if another driver does something stupid, like turn in front of me, weave while yakking, or stop short, I have room around me in which to maneuver or take evasive action.

How has being a biker impacted my life? I do not really know any other ways in which it has. Being “a biker” is only one facet of a complex personality. Sure, I may arrive at a public hearing on my Harley, and I may dress a bit more casually than attorneys who are there in pin-striped suits and dress wingtip shoes and who arrive in their expensive luxury automobiles. But that is how I am anyway — I have often said that my twin brother got the “suit genes” and I got the “jeans genes.” Even if I did not learn how to ride a motorcycle and operate one for over three decades, I think I still would be wearing boots and jeans and shunning dress clothes anyway.

There are some people who apply stereotypes to bikers as they apply stereotypes to gay men. Some ill-informed, closed-minded people expect all bikers to be loud drunken savages who speak derogatorily about women and make boastful comments (positioning their masculinity.) Honestly, most “real” bikers — at least those with whom I hang out — are not like that at all. They are thoughtful, caring, concerned men and women who enjoy the same passion as I do — riding a motorcycle and having fun while doing so safely.

Yes, there are some bikers who behave in ways that fulfill the stereotype. There are gay men who behave in ways that fulfill a negative stereotype as well. We are all different. Some bikers ride with a helmet, boots, and appropriate gear all the time, even if not required by law. These are the responsible bikers who do not drink alcohol if they’re going to ride a bike. These are the bikers with whom I enjoy riding.

There are gay men who work hard, and contribute to society in a number of ways. They care for their families and friends, and help their communities by working as a civic leader (as I do), or serve in a publicly elected position (as I have.) Then there are some gay men who are irresponsible, and expose themselves to serious harm and risk. I won’t describe it — you can figure it out — and these are the gay guys who do not read this blog anyway.

What I am saying is that we are all different, and we as individuals are complex. We have multiple interests, talents, abilities, and approaches to life. Bikers can be gay men and gay men can be bikers, as the two are not mutually exclusive.

Pardon the tangent… how as being a biker impacted MY life? It has brought me fun; it has taught me to be more vigilant; it has helped me to demonstrate to others that the “biker lifestyle” and the “gay lifestyle” are not mutually exclusive.

Life is short: be who you are.

Memories

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I always take time on September 11 to remember my mother. I know, a lot of people remember this date for another reason, and I’ll get to that in a moment.

September 11 is the date on which my mother died. I blogged about it last year, so I will not repeat myself.

It’s been eleven years since the fateful date of her death. What’s happened since then? My partner and I settled into the house that I built, developed a stable, productive, and deep partnership together, and have led quality lives. We have had many fun and not-so-fun experiences, learned a lot, and each of us changed jobs once — moving on to better things for each of us. We have matured, grown, and have deepening respect for each other, and for others.

My Mom influenced me in many ways. She always told me to keep smiling, and keep plugging away because life is short — you only reap what you sew — so plant your roots deep and care for your family, your neighbors, your friends, and Mother Nature. That we do…. Thanks, Mom, for your continuing inspiration in my life, and for your love that endures beyond your physical presence on this Earth.

The media contrived “9/11” to refer to the U.S. attacks on that date. That media contrivance drives me absolutely bonkers, but the reference isn’t going to go away, no matter how wrong it is. (I remind you, FDR did not refer to “12/7” as a date which will live in infamy.)

Right after the U.S. attacks of September 11, 2001, I spent six months in New York City (on-and-off; not permanently) providing relief and working on a series of special projects. While I had visited NYC several times before that date, the ongoing exposure to the city in that “post-September 11” timeframe taught me many things. It taught me about the endurance and perseverance of humanity, and of New Yorkers. It taught me that people can rise to overcome many challenges. And it taught me that I really don’t like New York City.

My feelings have nothing to do with the people, as it has to do with long-term, ongoing memories that I would rather not think about. I have not returned to New York City since February, 2002, and have no intentions of going back. It just hurts too much. Plus, I am not a city boy. I do not like crowds, noise, late-night activities, and the expense. I am much more relaxed and comfortable in my simple suburban lifestyle, with my partner by my side, and enjoying the view of Maryland’s back roads and nearby areas from the saddle of my Harley. My needs are simple, and I much prefer quiet and peacefulness than noise, dust, dirt, and “busy-ness.” Not for me.

Mind you, nothing is wrong with New York City. Many, many people call it home, and many more visit every year. Great for them. It is a marvelous place. It’s just not for me nor my partner.

Life is short: remember those you love.

Leather, Breeches, Boots, Bike

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My partner took this photo of me at my request on Monday when I decided not to go on a motorcycle ride, and we decided to “play” instead. You saw the results of some of this “play” in my last blog post.

I really liked this photo and the image portrayed, so I thought I would post this one, as well.

Life is short: Say, “grrrrrrrr!”

Gear description

Disclaimer: I (the “officer” in this image) am not a sworn law enforcement officer. Nothing in this image should be considered anything other than demonstration of my “avocation” and interests. I had to put this disclaimer here because there are some people who just don’t understand….

Driving With Improper Footwear

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I found this wayward character operating a vehicle with improper footwear.

I said, “license and registration, please.” The open-toed footwear-wearing miscreant produced it, revealing that he had won the vehicle about a month ago, and was on his way to donate it to a children’s charity.

“What’s with that footwear? It’s unsafe to use for operating such a vehicle!”

“Oh, sorry, Officer, Sir! I don’t know what I was thinking, Officer, Sir! I promise, I won’t wear them again, Officer, Sir! Perhaps you can suggest some ‘proper’ footwear, Officer, Sir?” Then he flashed me a huge smile, looked at me with those deep baby-blue eyes, and flexed his pecs. Man, with that nonverbal behavior, this guy can get by with murder.

However, I let him off with a warning this time. His response? “Thank you, Officer, Sir! I promise, I will be good and correct the errors of my ways, Officer, Sir! Nice patrol boots, Officer, Sir! May I see them up closer, Officer, Sir? Perhaps your uniform requires cleaning and pressing, Officer, Sir? Do those boots need shining, Officer, Sir?”

“Sure, fella… there seems to be a concealed weapon in your waistband that I have to check out in person. Follow me down the street to a more secluded spot.”

“Yes, Sir, Officer, Sir!”

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Life is short: have fun!

Photoshop skills credit: David (Bamaboy) whose talent is only exceeded by the quality of his character. And for those who don’t know, the errant vehicle operator is none other than my studly partner who enjoys my wacky sense of humor. Additional disclaimer: I (the “officer” in this image) am not a sworn law enforcement officer. Nothing in this image should be considered anything other than demonstration of my personal interests, or “avocation.” I had to put this disclaimer here because there are some people who just don’t understand….

The Go or No-Go Decision

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Every biker faces the dilemma that I faced yesterday morning. Based on what I was observing out my window, as well as what I was hearing on weather reports on television as well as reading on-line, the question was, “will it rain and should I go on that ride today or not?”

Sunday night, quite unexpectedly, it rained. Monday morning at dawn when we awoke, the ground was wet but the streets were dry. The clouds, though, were low and leaden. The weather forecasts from six different sources were all over the place. None were in agreement.

It is very difficult to predict weather in the part of the United States where I live. The Chesapeake Bay is not that far away, nor the Atlantic Ocean for all that matter (meteorologically speaking). Both of these bodies of water strongly influence our weather. There are mountain-ettes (foothills of the Appalachian chain) to my north and west. Then there is all that hot air from Congress… (but wait a minute, they’re not in session right now.)

Anyway, I had cleared my calendar to be able to go on a long motorcycle ride with my club. However, it really looked like rain. It felt like rain (by that, I mean that I was achy.) The scheduled ride was toward the west, where the radar on television indicated that rain was falling and would be worse as the day went on.

I called the club’s phone number where ride updates are posted, to hear if the ride leader had cancelled the ride. He didn’t….

… but I made that difficult and very disappointing decision not to go on the ride. Being the superstitious sort, I figured that if I did go on the ride, it would rain cats-and-dogs. However, if I did not ride, then it wouldn’t rain.

The latter proved true. It did not begin to rain until 4:30pm. I would have been home by then (or close to it!) I don’t get to ride very often with my club, and I missed a great chance to do so. Oh well… nothin’ I can do about it. I guess, overall, I would rather be safe and dry than sorry and wet.

No Labor Today!

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Today in the United States is Labor Day, which is the holiday that marks the unofficial end of summer. The holiday is late this year. Schools have been open for a week or two in the area, and most people have returned to work. The Metro has definitely been more crowded, and predicted to be worse on “Terrible Traffic Tuesday” when everyone and everything, including Congress, is back to work (or at least, “back to the office.”)

The past two days of this three-day weekend have been very busy for me and my partner. Our “honey-do” list around the house had several major items knocked off of it, from building a new book shelf for my partner from salvaged red oak (including routed edges and corners), installing new quarter-round in the hallway, preparing and seeding the lawn area that I tore up a few weeks ago when I installed underground rainwater drainage piping, and replacing batteries in about 20 smoke alarms for seniors. I dunno, there were dozens of other little things that were accomplished, too. Soreness prevails.

I did manage to drop by two birthday parties for family. That was fun, albeit too brief.


Today, however, I absolutely insisted on having the day off. Enough with the honey-do list! I hope to go on a long ride on my Harley with a group, weather permitting. My fellow riders are great, and it is, after all, a holiday! No labor today!

Life is short: get out and enjoy it!

Christmas Presents and New Years Surprises

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‘Tis the season that all of the “Christmas Presents and New Years Surprises” in my family have birthdays. That is, 12 of the 15 of us siblings have birthdays ranging from mine on 16 August to mid-September. We collectively refer to those of us with August birthdays as our parents’ “Christmas Presents” or the September babies as “New Years’ Surprises” up through and including our “last rose of summer” (my ‘little’ sister, all 90 pounds of her, was born September 20.)

My Dad was a diplomat and worked in Europe for six months each year, returning to the U.S. to bring us back from the Oklahoma homestead to our Maryland home by mid-December each year, so we would enjoy Christmas there.

Do the math… when is nine months after Christmas and New Years? Te he… hiya, Mom & Dad, here we are!

While some of us were multiples, such as with me and my twin, we each enjoyed our own separate birthday party, even if it were not on the actual date of our birth anniversary. Thus, this weekend, one sister is having a party on Saturday and a brother is having his on Sunday, even though their actual birthdays were last week and next week, respectively… go figure.

I’ll be the bad Biker Dude Uncle/Great Uncle who shows up on his big Harley to terrorize the kiddos, give them rides on the bike, and share the joy of family, extended family, in-laws, out-laws, and sundry others. My partner will enjoy blissful peace back home… he does not attend these parties with me. (Large families can be somewhat overwhelming, but I am accustomed to it. I mean, after all, I was born into one!)

I will bring a card, good cheer, and a huge smile for all. That’s what life is all about: love for family and our caring concern for each other.

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

Boots In, Boots Out

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This may be hard for some people to believe, but I am not trying to establish a record of how many pairs of boots can be owned and worn by one man. I did, however, briefly hit a new record by receiving a new pair of boots — Guide Gear engineer boots — that I picked up on a surplus sale for only US$20. This brought my collection up to 150 pairs of boots.

However, the very next day, I shipped a pair of my boots to a buddy (he will reveal himself at a later point in time.) These were my Chippewa lug-soled engineer boots that I bought on a close-out sale in 2007.

The Chippewa boots were labeled size 10-1/2D yet my feet swam around in them so much that they were more like an 11EE, which is my friend’s boot size. No matter how thick my socks nor how many additional insole/inserts I put in the boots, my feet continued to “swim around” in the boots and therefore they never felt right. They’re great boots, but not my size and since they were a close out since Chippewa stopped making them with a lug sole, not avaiable in my size.

So, for now, my boot collection remains stable at 149 147 pairs (oops, in June, I had to discard a pair of Harley Harness Boots and a pair of Corcoran Field Boots, but I forgot to delete them from my list until now.)

One pair in, one pair out… and that’s probably what it will be like for a while. Again, believe it or not, I do not envision buying any more boots, but I’m not one to turn down a great deal or opportunity.

Life is short: wear your boots!

Fascinating Photo

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I usually blog about my life, but in this case, I am blogging to display a photo that my buddy David (Bamaboy) sent to me yesterday. He is a tremendously skilled photographer and Photoshop editor.

The photo above shows a Banana Spider, which is indigenous to the part of the country where David lives. He says this species of spider is not poisonous, but man — it sure looks scary! Just as scary as some of those really bad spiders that I ran into in South America and Australia. (Fortunately, I never was bitten though I came close a couple of times.)

Anyway, I thought for something different that I would post a photo that I enjoyed viewing. I hope you like it too!

Life is short: show your friend’s skills