The cyclist and the biker

The cyclist and the biker went into a bar,

And the cyclist ordered a fruit smoothie, the biker a beer.

Said the cyclist, “I ride for miles and miles.”

The biker replied, “So do I.”

The cyclist said, “I’m building muscles and lungs.”

The biker nodded.

The biker said, “How long does it take you to reach the coast?”

Cyclist, “It takes as long as it takes, no more and no less.”

Biker, “WTF does that mean?”

C, “Well less time than to ride the STP (Seattle to Portland) and more than my regular six mile loop around the airport.

C, “BTW, WHY DO YOU RIDE THAT BIG EXPENSIVE, polluting hog?”

B, “You need not shout;  I’m not hard of hearing. I ride with my friends in the club around the state and across country,”

C, “Hmm, so do I. But you make so much noise!”

B, “You’re the one shouting. Loud pipes save lives.”

B, “Do you ride with friends? Or do you ride alone?”

C, “Well, both. BTW. What is that denim vest with the patches all about?”

B, “Those are my colors. My club patches. The rest are ride or rally patches. This one is for a fallen rider. What are your bright clothes trying to tell me?”

C, “These are my colors, I guess. One tyvek jacket is for my club and the others are rides.”

B, “Isn’t it dangerous riding on the side of the road?”

C, “Yes, it’s why I wear bright colors. How do you keep safe on the road?”

B, “I ride in numbers. We have signals to tell each other when we change kanes, go over railroad tracks, or see something in the road.”

C, ” So do we.”

B,”Well my friends are here; it’s time to ride. Nice talking with you. Be safe.”

C, “You too. Thanks.”

B, “For what?”

C: “For sharing the ride.”

The biker left; the cyclist finished his smoothly and went out to ride his bike, but sadly it had been stolen.”

And So he walked home.

The walker next to him said, “So, where’s your bike?”

– Small town boy

Life Quilt, row 5, #2 – Costumes

This shirt, while wonderful to wear for a motorcycle ride or an OSU event (whose colors are black and orange), the memories it most brings to mind are about Halloween. My Halloween costumes often involved tee shirts.


The darkness you see isn’t dirt. Look closer and see a skull and crossbones, subliminally scarey I guess.

Disneyland

why? Potassium deficiency caused massive low glucose


Disney

We went to Disneyland, I got sick but kept taking my metformin which resulted in low, very low glucose, which resulted in my delusions, which resulted in being hospitalized (see hospital bracelets above), twice, and getting potassium pumped into my hand. This had happened once before as a result of eating too much soft licorice. It seems pure licorice root is a potassium depleted (diagnosis Betsy).

Adams High, 1974

Halloween at Adams High School:


I had borrowed Betsy’s kilt (mini skirt) for school. One of my students told me to keep my legs together because I was drawing flies.

Motorcycle costume (not Halloween)


The difference between motorcycle and motor scooter costume is reflective clothing and body armor.

Scottish costume

After I changed my name to McAnelly a couple years ago I began wearing clan tartans: red Ulster and McNeil.

Burning Man 2015 costumes

My costuming began with me: long hair (what there was of it) and long beard (with a curl).



And ended in my birthday suit


Which gave me my playa name, “Bare Necessities.”

Not my costumes:

Elmo bike costume

Full body tiger suit

My grandson

– small town boy

I see; visual memories.

You may have noticed, as I did, that my memories of Reno and GRABAAWR  (See my Life Quilt stories) was made up of more pictures, literally, than text.

This brought to my attention again that I process life visually and spatially.

This is part of my visual intelligence and results in visual thinking.

Thinking about my abundant use old photos to depict memories held in the actual (and visual) Life Quilt containing my old tee shirts made by my friend Joanne, a quilter in Cedar City, UT, has erupted into acknowledging how many times I depended on a visual representation of my world.

  • All of my memories of my father are visual: riding in the model A, vaccinating pigs, him pulling my tooth while he was in bed, and the red records in the blue sleeves for the new console radio he bought. He died when I was nine.
  • I flunked out of chemical engineering at the University of Colorado in 1960 because I couldn’t visualize chemistry fast enough for testing. I’ve recently discovered that I’m as smart as anyone else, but I’m a slow thinker, because I have to see it. While other aspects of engineering encouraged you to construct concepts and reconstruct them for answers, chemistry relies on recall of concepts difficult to represent visually.
  • I once had to ask my wife to wait in the process of construction of a deck at our beach house until I could visualize how everything fit together. This single event was the greatest impetus for me to ‘get it’ that I was a visual thinker.
  • In my later years as a science, math, and computer, I relied almost solely on visual representation and manipulation for problem solving. I taught teachers and students Image Processing (thanks LuAnn and U of Az) and Systems Thinking as evidenced by its visual representation in the Stella computer program (thanks Luanne and MIT). Systems mean a lot to me: components, connections, interactions and boundaries which can be visually represented.
  • Recently I’ve found myself on a spiritual path that is filled with visual expressions: I write of buckets inside me filled with the Holy Spirit whom I’ve visualized as a man named Jeff.
  • I was asked to teach an ed media class at the U of o in my PhD program. It contained the concept of visual literacy, which much to the disappointment of my elementary librarian wife, I had no understanding of then. However, before I got the teaching assignment, I had to visualize the course in my head and then on paper using Venn diagrams.
  • Also my wife can tell you that I’m a very messy person, requiring a desk, bedroom, and life that is all ‘out there’ to see. If it gets put away I can’t find it.
  • Recently I discovered that riding a motor scooter has made me a better driver and diminished effects of vascular dementia, because of visual defensive driving and focus required.
  • People have called me a visionary, idealistic, impulsive, and at the same time very collaborative and empathetic.
  • In my leadership roles I am known to be full of fresh ideas but unable to carry through over the long haul. When I brought innovation it was through teaching teachers how they fit into the structure of education and the structure of the teachers union. My collaborative skills were valued too. At my last teaching assignment they called me the ‘glue’ that held the department to cooperating in planning science courses.
  • I used a note taking method called ‘Concept Mapping’ which visually represents concepts through drawing ways they are linked. Also an art teacher I worked with (thanks Joan) helped me make my journals more meaningful with drawings, diagrams, and color.
  • I finally told my wife after moving here to Corvallis after my retirement that I would do no more ‘some assembly required’ furniture because the Chinese diagrams didn’t make sense to me.

BTW: I’ve written this whole thing without pictures though it appears to me to be disconnected and without connections.

I can’t write my blog or stories without first visualizing the title, then I am compelled to write. It is now 2:14 am and I’ve awakened with this in my head awaiting its visual representation in the written word.

Get the picture?

– Small town boy

Will you walk with me?

My wife is always several steps ahead of me,

When hiking in the Rockies, she left me in the dust.

My dog walks with me now that Animal Crackers demoed a halter that makes her do so.

My great grandson walks just behind me, imitating my slow old man walk.

My pace is slow, my range is short, I have to sit once or twice when walking the dog around the park.

I use a cane when I go for a walk because of a full hip replacement in my right hip, it’s twenty five years old.

I’m seventy five next Friday.

I do better on my bike, a semi recumbent Giant Revive,


But I ride with no one.

I have a Honda 150 SHi, but it’s too small to ride with the Oregon Scooter Club in Portland or Salem.


My neighbor, the house my kids play at, has a small scooter unused in his garage.

I said, “We should go for a ride.”

His eyes brightened and he said, “yes.”

So I walk with my dog.

But I often think there’s someone else walking with me, right beside me, who’s in no hurry and always ready to sit next to me and talk.

I love Him for this.

He gets up with me in the morning, and we greet the day, and we talk about those who need help today and those who don’t, the list is long.

He’s with me the last thing at night, and we put the day to rest, and we talk about the things that happened today, the good and the bad.

He does not judge me or my actions or my thoughts or me.

He is my closest friend.

I decided to take life one day at a time when I turned seventy.

He helps with this.

Each day I purge my mind, my heart, my body, and my spirit of their respective baggage/histories/hurts.

And be open to the day He has in store for me, and the events, places and people it has for me.

I’m happy because He walks with me, 

And because I walk with Him.

– Small town boy

Scooter Games

On my little (150cc Honda) scooter 

I play games on the road. 

I play man hole slolum, for instance.

This is where I swing and swoop avaoiding man holes.

Some streets are full of them and they are not in a straight line.

It is important to avoid them because they are slippery, especially in the rain.

You have to avoid them or hit them directly.

If you hit them on the edge, sometimes, they will flip up?

So if you see me in my bright orange vest and bright orange helmet,

You will know I’m playing man hole slolum.

When I go through Avery Park, I play speed bump rodeo.

I think I’m on a bucking bronco when I go over these speed bumps.

I don’t go fast, the speed limit is 15 mph, but my imagination

Takes me to the rodeo.

The other cars are not as careful,

Sometimes they buck and shocks have to catch them when they fall.

Sometimes they don’t want to go 15 mph.

On my bicycle I play broken glass polo.

I sometimes carry a child’s broom

To clean the bike lanes of broken glass.

The polo game exists mostly in my mind since I have to get off my bike to sweep.

Still…

Games I don’t play include: Keeping up with the others, taking shortcuts, confusing drivers, and panic stops.

Well, I did have a panic stop on my scooter, because of Police flashing lights,

And was tail ended by a pickup with a winch on front.


Now I don’t do that if I can help it.

Putt putt.

-small town boy