The Magna & the prayer

Honestly I am surprised that I have lived this long...

The stupid male gene has always been with me. As I  age it still rears its ugly head sometimes, ok a lot of the time.Yes repressing it is easier as you grow older, though it will never leave you. 

Your long lost friend...
The stupid male gene.

The first "big" bike I bought was a 1970 Honda CB750 "four" (4 cylinder). 

It was rated as the fastest production bike in 1970 (though some will say the Kaw 1000 was faster?). The Honda was heavier and the Kaw had a little more horsepower.
Mine was a beautiful turquoise blue with lot's & lot's of chrome.  

The CB was fast enough to scare the crap out of me, no wait that is because I am 58 now not 20. 
Dang I was too stupid to be scared @ 20... 
(reminds me of the James Bond film with the Russian computer geek spinning his pen saying; "I am invincible", remember?)

I bought the bike from a good friend in 1981 who in turn was buying the fastest production bike of 1981. The Honda Magna V65 1100cc cruiser.

Before I bought his CB he suggested that we go on test ride so I could decide if I wanted his old bike, really? (go ahead twist my arm). Off we went to Oak Creek from Steamboat, a great road for riding bikes. 

There is this one long, very long straight stretch of  pavement outside of Oak Creek. 

Ya know what that means...
As we are heading back from Oak Creek I am feeling comfortable on my new ride (still gotta pay him), and then we hit that long, long open road. 
No traffic to be seen, enter stupid male gene, let's see what this CB 750/4 will do. 
5th gear full throttle in a upright position as I "Ride The Ton", or 100 mph+ on a bike. 
Biker slang, subculture. 
At 20 years of age, would you be satisfied doing the ton or looking for more?
Of course not more baby, down on the tank I lay and that wonderful 140 mph speedo started to climb, 105, 110, 115, 120. 
(My friends new bike speedo only went to 85 mph, remember those?).
Now we are talkin', yeah I was grinning ear to ear. 
That was until my buddy goes blowing by me laid back on his new cruiser like I was standing still. 
Oh and by the way, his grin was a lot bigger than mine...
Nothing like the feel of speed on two wheels.

Onto the future. 
37 years later I am still looking for either of these two bikes. I have owned over 80 bikes (this includes our trainers) and have always come back to the CB's and the Magna. The Magna because it was the one that got away, got away blowin' past me @ 120 MPH...

Searching Craiglist & FB marketplace are part of my daily routine. Once in a while I will come across either of these two memories.
Last week it was the Magna.
One popped up on my local CL;

It was listed with 25k miles @ $790.00. 

OK I am interested enough to not run away from it, could it be legit?

Bikes with this low of miles and age are usually a good buy. Most of the time they have been sitting for years and someone wants to dump it to get it out of the garage.

Book on this bike is well over $3000.00 in good condition. So I am interested, ok to be honest I am interested in peggin' that speedo needle, maybe even break it off...

As I look at the pics I notice that it has not been left outside. Garage kept, nice! 

The gauges are always the best way to tell. On this model, Honda as with most manufacturers, used a red paint for the "red line" marker on the tach. If the bike has been outside for any length of time, the red line is usually pink or white. Other hints as to its life were the lack of rust on bolts, chrome pitting, and the engine cut off switch was still bright red and not cracked.

Now my hopes are going up, could this be the one? Have to be careful with lust it can fog your mind, course that stupid male gene will be real happy.

Over the years I have bought and sold a lot of things on Ebay, FB, & Craigslist. Only once did I buy something I shouldn't have, and it was my mistake.

I missed a cracked engine casing. 

I also have had my fair share of scammers. They are usually very easy to pick out, though sometimes they are quite crafty and experienced in ripping people off.

I dive in and contact the seller by phone/text. Patiently I wait a day & half and then he responds. 

I communicate with him and he tells me he posted the ad for his sister. Flag #1. 

He provides me with an email address (which is not typed properly) to contact her and the price is lower? Flag #2 

Off my email goes and a day later I get this response; 

Don't get pissy with me because of the "redactions"...

I do a VIN check and nothing glaring is reported, though I will not spend $20 to find out more.

I look at her? his? online album of the bike. 

Very carefully I look at each picture and I am still hoping...

Next comes the discrepancy of the mileage, flag #3, it is not 25k miles it is 2k miles. A 1983 bike with 2k miles for $700? Though it could be an honest mistake from someone who does not know bikes? they might not know the last number was tenths of a mile?

Yes I am grasping at straws, I want this bike (down stupid male gene, down boy!).

No wait, something else catches my eye, something is wrong with the speedo. The bike pictured is probably not US spec. In the early 1980's US spec bikes did not have 140 mph speedos, flag #4.

I am still hopeful (yeah it is that stupid male gene again), though something is starting to gnaw at me.

Off goes the next email to "her";

I am still lead to believe that this bike is being sold locally.

Then "her" response, the mother of all responses, flag #5;

As the old saying goes, "I was born at night, but not last night". She (?) wrote a pretty good story but they had no idea I lived in the area before and could validate everything they said.

The fisherman did not take into account that the fish at the end of their hook was a Megalodon.

Next is my response to their heart wrenching story;

All of my email reply is the truth, really, the people and the locations that are mentioned are legit (this is the funniest part, and people say God doesn't have a sense of humor).  

The fisherman had no idea...

The final response from the fisherman (adult language);

Guess I will not be invited over for Christmas dinner this year...

On to the coup de grace...

Experiences with people like this at first cause me to get angry, they are just plain lazy! 

Get a real job to earn a living...

Then I start to feel sorry for them because they are caught by the fish, and being pulled to the bottom...

This is my final response to my fisherman;

I have done this 3 other times in the past with people who attempt to rip me off.

First exposing their stupidity carefully and honestly.

Promising all of them that I will pray for them for 30 days, which I take very seriously. 

For 30 days I pray to God for Him to change their hearts and bring them into His kingdom. 

As I do not know them or their reasoning for trying to rip me off, I leave it to God to repair. 

He knows who they are and can change their heart, I can't...

One of the times in the past, the person who wanted to rip me off actually contacted me later and thanked me for my prayers and understanding. Letting me know that they had turned their life around.

I am no better than the fisherman, I am the same, flawed. 

Looking for forgiveness and a better future. 

How 'bout you, what are  you looking for...

The Magna & the prayer.

W

Retirement vacation

Yes I took a vacation while retired...
Still sounds weird to me, because being retired is a vacation.
Every year my wife goes to the beach. Some years I have gone, other years I have not, usually because of work related issues.
This year the spot (again) was Surfside Beach in South Carolina.

Marg flies the girls and grandkids out and sis & husband (Maureen & Alex) cover the lodging for a week. 

This is a snipits video of the week long vacation, enjoy.

Let me know if this works, I don't post a lot of videos...

Jordi Bowen (Stacey's son)

One Voice

You are a single voice in the wilderness.
Or maybe the madness...
As you shout what will change?
The trees hear, they can not change.

Stop the shout, leave the struggle.
Focus on oneself and those that are near.

The madness that you see, what you can not change.
One voice will not make a difference in our world today.

You know your path forward as it is clear.
Time to look up, find faith and accept you are one, though not alone.

Trust so you can continue on the path, seeing what is pure and true.

W

Consideration

As we walk our path, there they sit.
Shoulder to shoulder with their heads bowed down.
The granite slabs are cold this morning.

Slowing our pace we feel the air of reverence, curious as to the cause.
Is it a romantic moment, maybe
grief or remembrance?

Quietly and slowly we pass,
in the water holds the truth.
A red rose, a yellow rose. 
Intertwined on the surface,
a solemn tribute to...

W

Last walk

As our 46 years in Colorado were ending very soon, we wanted to spend as much time as we could fit into our hectic schedule to do some of our favorite things.
One of our favs was walking the St.Vrain State Park Lake loops around what was originally called Barbour Ponds in Firestone/Longmont Colorado. 

There are multiple lakes in this state park that offer amazing scenery and wildlife, especially birds. This is one of Colorado's state parks that have nesting Bald Eagles near, nesting Osprey, and many other raptors flying around. 
There is one huge dead tree in the middle of the park that you can see from miles around. This is the fav for the local eagles as they like to perch high up in its branches ever alert and vigilant. When you see them, time to go for your walk. 

As we walked around for our last time we really felt glad that we took the time to appreciate what God had put just a couple of miles from our home. 
Every year for the last 10, we would frequent this state park as it was so close. 90 % of the time we were there the eagles were there smiling down on us. A few of the times we were walking the lakes the eagles would grace us with a show of their fishing skills. There is nothing like watching a Bald Eagle hover over a lake, swoop down catching a fish in their talons and fly off to enjoy lunch perched in a large tree overlooking their domain. 

(Not my picture, public domain)

During one of our walks here we were able to watch one of these beautiful Bald Eagles feasting on a Mallard Duck. The eagle ate everything but the wings...
One of my favs, Duck Confit!

We were blessed as we could go during the week when there were not as many visitors at the park. On the weekends the ponds where circled by numerous fisherman, fisherwomen and children. 
The lakes/ponds are stocked by the state with a variety of fish from keep to eat or catch and release. As we walked around we would talk with the fisherpeople and listen to their stories of fortune or misfortune. One day we watched as a woman standing on a paddle board, paddled to a spot in the middle of a lake grabbed her pole and started fishing? never seen that one before... 
As we do not fish it was fun to watch and learn about what many of these people were doing just to put food on their table. Whole families would be there working the poles with their small children playing around the family unit as they caught today's dinner.
Think about it, fresh fish for dinner, not bad and it would be yummy yummy for my medium sized tummy...

W

The tractor and the Triumph

As a motorcycle safety instructor, I usually do not tell my war stories about crashes... 
Due to a post (picture) I made on FB sometime ago, and that so many of you asked me about, 
I will now enlighten you with my war story of the "tractor and the Triumph"...

When you are teaching people to ride you see/experience some of the craziest things, and also some of the most heart wrenching.

I was working with one of my mentors teaching a beginner class of 12. Normal class, yes we do have these sometimes. We had all the bikes in the staging area lined up in a nice straight line waiting for the students to come back from lunch.

As I look to my left there is a John Deere tractor approaching (nothing runs like a Deere). One of the grounds crew for the Community College is driving the green machine towards our range. 

Nothing unusual as we always saw him working at the site, but wait the bucket is up full of sand and well, I say: "hey Bob do you think he can see the bikes"? He says; "yeah he knows we are here". We turn and continue to talk and well that tractor just keeps motoring on into our parking lot from the east lot. We turn again and we are getting concerned enough to start yelling, course he can't hear us over the tractor's engine noise and his ear plugs. Then we start running, waving and yelling louder, no response as the tractor marches on. 

By this time we can tell it is too late, the tractor is goin' in... Once he hears the bucket hit the rear of the first bike he slams on the brakes thus causing the front of the tractor to dive dumping all the sand on the bike as it is pushed into the second which is then pushed into the third one. Knocking over all three, thank God the class was at lunch and no one was on the bikes. 

As we stand there with our mouths agape, silence fills the air. Nobody not even the tractor driver can understand how this could have happened. Next comes the fun part, I have to call the administrator of the company that I work for to explain what happened and ask what he wants us to do. I have never heard a louder quiet over the phone than when I said; "a tractor ran into a bike, pushing it into two others and in the meantime dumped a load of sand on the range". 

We're not going to be starting the class back up after lunch...

Anyway, the Triumph I am sitting on in the photo was the tractor drivers. Months later he talked to me and told me he had liver cancer and needed to prepare the bike to sell for his wife when he was gone. I agreed, went to his home to pick up the bike and meet his wife. I was able to bring the bike back to life for them, ride it down their street for him before parking it in their garage one last time. 

A couple of months later his wife called to tell me he had passed and she was selling the bike. I offered my condolences and wished her well hoping that she and her children would weather the storm.

He was a very nice person, always had a warm greeting for me when we met on the motorcycle range. There are many ways we can serve, giving of ourselves for those in need...

W.

Patience...

Patience I'm told. 
I was told that I lack this virtue ? 
I have cursed my lack of this skill.

Raising the same two Orchid plants for over 15 years means you have patience, no matter what you see/witness from me. 
If you have never taken on this endeavor of Orchid management, then you probably would not understand.

An Orchid plant will bloom once a year if you are fortunate and you keep to a specific regiment. Having taken classes on Orchid's has taught me that it is a partnership, yep a partnership...
So in my 15 years of Orchid partnership I have witnessed or should say been blessed with 2, yes 2 blooms in one year. Some years there have been no blooms at all even though I continue with my patient management of the plants, always praying for that magical bloom. The Orchid bloom is well, let's just say devine. Few can appreciate an Orchid bloom as so many have never had the patience to develop the bloom.
I have only seen 2 natural Orchid blooms in the wild (Hawaii), though I have had 12 years of Orchid blooms in our home. 
Once many years ago, now twice, I will have 2 blooms in one year! A very unusual occurrence. 
Below are pictures of the second bloom  of 2017 starting, it should pop open any day now.

I find it interesting that not only is the plant blooming twice this year, I have two separate shoots with blooms. I have never witnessed this on either of my plants!

W.

Only 25 days

Marg gave a speech today in front of her peers. When she read this to me last night for practice, I was brought to tears...

Only 25 days until Christmas. A time when we celebrate the Birth of Christ – but we also get caught up in the business of the holiday season.

We are busy shopping in hectic crowds, waiting in long lines at busy airports, trying to bake just a few more dozen cookies… life seems to get busier and busier – a bit out of control to say the least.

There is just never enough time!!!

From: The Applause of Heaven by Max Lucado

HIS SUMMIT

If you have time to read this chapter, you probably don’t need to.

If you are reading slowly in order to have something to occupy your time… if your reading hour is leisurely sandwiched between a long stroll and a good nap…if your list of things to do today was done an hour after you got up… then you might want to skip over to the next chapter. You probably have mastered the message of the next few pages.

If, however, you are reading in your car with one eye on the stoplight… or in the airport with one ear listening for your flight… or in the baby’s room with one hand rocking the crib… or in bed late at night, knowing you have to get up early in the morning… than read on, friend. This chapter is for you!

You are in a hurry. America is in a hurry. Time has sky-rocketed in value. The value of any commodity depends on its scarcity. And time that once was abundant now is going to the highest bidder.

A man in Florida bills his ophthalmologist ninety dollars for keeping him waiting one hour.

A woman in California hires someone to do her shopping for her – out of a catalog.

Twenty bucks will pay someone to pick up your cleaning.

Fifteen hundred bucks will buy a fax machine… for your car.

Greeting cards can be purchased to express to your children things you want to say, but don’t have time to: “Have a great day at school” or “I wish I were there to tuck you in.”

America – the country of shortcuts and fast lanes. (We’re the only nation on earth with a mountain called “Rushmore”.)

“Time”, according to pollster Louis Harris, “may have become the most precious commodity in the land.”

Do we really have less time? Or is it just our imagination?

In 1965 a testimony before a Senate subcommittee claimed the future looked bright for “free time” in America. By 1985, predicted the report, Americans would be working twenty-two hours a week and would be able to retire at age thirty-eight.

The reason? The computer age would usher in a gleaming array of advances that would do our work for us while stabilizing our economy.

Take the household, they cited. Microwaves, quick fix foods, and food processors will pave the way into the carefree future. And the office? Well, you know that old stencil machine? It’ll be replaced by a copier. And the files? Computers are the files of the future. And that electric typewriter? Don’t get too attached to it; a computer will do its work, too.

And now, years later, we have everything the report promised. The computers are byting, the VCRs are recording, the fax machines are faxing. Yet the clocks are still ticking, and people are still running. The truth is, the average amount of leisure time has shrunk 17% since 1973. The average work week has increased from forty-one to forty-seven hours. (And for many of you, forty-seven hours would be a calm week.) 

Why didn’t the forecast come true? What did the committee overlook? They misjudged the appetite of the consumer. As the individualism of the 60’s led to the materialism of the 80’s, the free time gained for us by technology didn’t make us relax; it made us run.

Gadgets provided more time…more time meant more potential money…more potential money meant more time needed… and round and round it went. Lives grew louder as demands became greater. And as demands became greater, lives grew emptier.

“I’ve got so many irons in the fire, I can’t keep any of them hot,” complained one young mother.

Can you relate?

When I was ten years old, my mother enrolled me in piano lessons. Now, many youngsters excel at the keyboard. Not me. Spending 30 minutes every afternoon tethered to a piano bench was a torture just one level away from swallowing broken glass. The metronome inspected each second with glacial slowness before it was allowed to pass.

Some of the music, though, I learned to enjoy. I hammered the staccatos. I belabored the crescendos.

The thundering finishes I kettle-drummed. But there was one instruction in the music I could never obey to my teacher’s satisfaction. The REST. The zigzagged command to do nothing. Nothing! What sense does that make? Why sit at the piano and pause when you can pound?

“Because,” my teacher patiently explained, “music is always sweeter after a rest.”

It didn’t make sense to me at age 10. But now, a few decades later, the words ring with wisdom – divine wisdom. In fact, the words of my teacher remind me of the convictions of another Teacher.

  

“When He saw the crowds, He went up on a mountainside…”

Don’t read the sentence so fast you miss the surprise. Matthew didn’t write what you would expect him to. The verse doesn’t read, “When He saw the crowds, He went into their midst.” Or, “When He saw the crowds, He healed their hurts.” Or “When He saw the crowds, He seated them and began to teach them”. On other occasions He did that … but not this time.

Before He went to the masses, He went to the mountain. Before the disciples encountered the crowds, they encountered the Christ. And before they faced the people, they were reminded of the sacred.

Before you “face the masses” try to spend some time with Jesus on the mountainside.

Have a very Merry Christmas!!!

Brother Steve

Brother Steve's birthday coming up. Watch the video, all of it (adult content) let me know why I chose this video for him. This is a test of how well you know Steve, my bro, happy B-day!

Off to work I go

"honey I am about ready"...

Are the kids ready for school? not sure I am to focused on the damn money again. She has been on me about how little money we have, with the needs of the kids and all. I am trying my best but it is not my fault.
I served and now I am trying to serve again to earn a living for my family and me. We are real tight, stuck in this barely livable home, with rent so high we are struggling. Dang we even gave up the TV can't even watch the games I am working. Well I hope to be working for a little longer, this boycott is killing us, the lowly stadium workers. It's not affecting those rich people that the protest is about, it is killing us the lower, much lower middle class. I haven't thrown more than 50 bags of nuts in the last 2 games. My friend Ron at the turnstiles said he is being laid off after this game, no one is coming through the gates. My other friend Katie, she has two kids, father left months ago, she was laid off two weeks ago from parking. Only two of the main lots filled last game, and there are 8 lots.
What are we to do? we all agree about respect, but we have to choose our battles carefully, who is really being hurt? Those rather rich players, owners, and leagues? they will easily weather the storm. 
For me it brings back terrible memories when the baseball players went on strike, for what? more money, do you think they thought of us, taking good care of their fans...My father was considered one of the great bag tossers, he could send a bag to a smilin' fan from three rows away, spot on. Then the boycott, then well let's just say he disappeared, couldn't handle the shame of not providin'.

What are we to do, I served, yeah a soldier (Marine) I know I am not the smartest, though I do understand what my parents taught me. Honor & respect especially for your country. Though now I am not sure I will be able to serve anymore, the fans that are not showin up. 
All because one man could not show respect.

"Honey, I gotta go, love you, be strong and pray".
I am not happy as I leave my wife and kids, tomorrow was ice cream night. The kids loved it and mom well let's just say she smiled a lot. Now without my usual pay we are cutting back again, extras, needs & wants. I want to be a provider and a good father, but here comes that train wreck again. First one destroyed my parents & family, thank God I joined the Marines, 3 squares and a bed, guaranteed, thank God for my country. I will always show respect, what I was taught on so many levels.
Now what am I to do, I have tried getting a job as a janitor, but the line was so long I had to come back two times just to fill out an application. I don't live as close to the building to clean as to the stadium. 
I can walk to my job at the stadium, I would have to take the bus to the cleaning job, which pays less so we would be cutting back, where? We already shop garage sales for clothes, and live on a lot of rice and beans. My wife and I are strong on; "the kids come first", she has given up so much, cause I can not provide...
I don't blame the fans, I know that a "day at the game" can set them back easy $200 or more each, times what? 20-50,000 people. Yeah I ain't so good at math but, well I am pulling in maybe $100 a game now including tips (well let's just say who's team is winning is in the fan's wallet). 
Just hope someone will stop the madness so I can provide, maybe win back my self respect for providing for my family. 

Guess that lonely (bet he is pretty lonely now) football player never really thought about the consequences of that one fateful day, disrespecting the symbol of the country I served and so many died for. 

The only ones he has hurt were us, the ones that took care of "his fans"...

W
In my mind there are always 2 sides. 
One started what they thought was a symbolic protest, another started what they thought was a symbolic boycott. Neither thought of the results of their actions, for us the people who serve. It takes one second to make a decision that forever will affect your life, and maybe others.
 Think about that.

Something worthy of my time...

Simply amazing.

https://youtu.be/o2_Li7tntE4

Stuffed Spaghetti Squash (Originally Written Sept 2017)

Yeah, I never envisioned this one before.

I have been using spaghetti squash for over 38 years and came up with this one yesterday.

Spaghetti squash stuffed with marinated pork tenderloin tips, onions and various spices. Roasted in the oven with deep fried Brussel Sprouts and gravy.
Hungry yet?

The fried Brussel sprouts & my gravy are separate recipes. (Generally you have to pay for them...)

Average/large sized squash.
About 3/4 lbs of cubed pork tenderloin tips, dry rubbed with Carolina seasoning mix and a small amount (very small amount of thyme) marinated for 3-4 days.

Open the top of a well balanced (sitting in the pan) squash.
Clean out the seeds, feed them to the squirrels another meal there. Spaghetti squash seed fattened squirrel, yummy!

Sprinkle garlic bread seasoning around the inside of the squash, drizzle white truffle oil, ground pepper, tarragon & Thyme (small amount). Cram (do not break the shell of the squash) the tenderloin into the space mixed with cut onion (white sweet). Add a dollop of butter and drizzle with dry Marsala wine. Cap and cook @ 375 for 60-120 min (size dependent, longer better).

To serve, clean out the pork from the squash, then clean out the strands of your squash into a bowl, add a little more butter...
Place the squash in a bowl, top with the pork and gravy, serve the Brussel sprouts on the side in a separate small bowl.

This is the base recipe, amazing results. Give it a try and play with it, my next stuffed spaghetti squash recipe will be with lobster...

W

The blank stare

OK, I now have my new way to amuse myself, NO not like you are thinking...

I walk into my local Verizon store, difficult well really very difficult for me to do. I have prepared myself for this day for over a week, yeah really! I have finally figured out that it is not that people do not like me, they do not like how I try and communicate with them. Reply to a hand written letter, answer their phone or an email no way, if you ain't textin, I ain't listenin...
I have the shakes, nervous as all get out but I have to be strong... I am scared shitless of technology and my lack of understanding, no wait it's my lack of desire to have more of this useless crap in my life.

Thoreau did just fine on Walden.

As I come up to the counter I see a young 20ish woman very ready to try and assist me. Smiling face, "how are you today", a very pleasant professional greeting. I look at her replying "just fine thank you, how are you?" as I set my trusty dilapidated flip phone on the counter, asking if I can look at their "basic phones" or flip phones.
Dang if that smile didn't disappeared in a hurry, though I will give her credit she jumped right in, probably thinking who is this fossil...
Trying to impress her with my technical knowledge I ask if she can demonstrate how to text using the T9 feature on a flip phone.

The blank stare.

She says; "yes you can text from your phone or the two we have in stock".
I then try again with my superior knowledge; "I know I can text from my phone but it does not have the T9 feature, you know where you start pushing the buttons and it recognizes common words and auto fills".

Blank stare, again...

OK I am trying to be patient with someone that does not have the superior knowledge of technology that I have. I then whip out my trusty flip phone and show her, on this phone you have to push the #2 three times to get to the letter C.

The blank stare, and now the dreaded I lost them frown is starting to show.

Again I try and communicate with this alien behind the counter and tell her I would like to try one of the phones that has the T9 technology to see if a feeble minded idiot like me can use it properly...

That silly blank stare.

Got to give her credit, good out, as she said; "I'm sorry the two phones we have in stock, we can not demonstrate on, you would have to buy it to turn it on...
Out of respect I let her win and thanked her and walked away.

Though I am only going to stalk the next 20ish sales person, carefully, maybe a guy this time and see if they can grasp my superior technological knowledge so I can join the 21st century...

"Ma please tell, yes tell me Ma do you text, say it ain't so, you're my last hope...

W