We Are All Peculiar

"Yep, he rode over a pothole that threw him. He broke his clavicle but also several ribs that poked and deflated a lung, sending him into ICU. He is now working from home."

"You guys are nuts! Why do you ride?"

"Because it's fun... most of the time."


I love to ride my bikes, just like I did when I was a kid. So, I do, when I can. I maintain and ride them all, with various degrees of success and frequency. And with a certain amount of risk. I have four bikes: my commuter hardtail with slicks, my Mtb four-link with Fox, my carbon road, and my very old, heavy and bulletproof college Schwinn 10-speed. And I'm always tinkering with them, cleaning and lubricating. I've had multiple accidents, some due to cars and some due to other cyclists. I've not had a solo accident since 1998 when I bought SPD-clip pedals, fell over at the first stop sign and bruised my ego.

Everybody has a peculiar love. My love is machines. I have a safe full of guns, from a scoped 30'06 to my .22 college Colt Woodsman, that I love to dissasemble and clean. Guns are risky too, especially due to idiots at the outdoor gun range. I have three cars: my old rusted "stealth" truck (women don't see me), my "locker-room" van, and my old Vette. Truck and Vette are tiny and have no airbag. So, my drug of choice is machines. My son's is computer games. My daughter is hooked on people.

All engineers like machines. A friend is into cameras, another has kayaks, and one has collections of collections stored in several garages. The older we are, the more we've accumulated, but I'm trying to reduce my junk to become simpler and more portable so that if I retire, I can fit into an apartment with bus access to give up cars. Unfortunately, I'm having a tough time deciding on a home for the Vette. I love the Vette. The Vette I ordered from the factory in September 1972 which now needs some electrical detective work and a new paint job, otherwise it's delightful, functional and pristine... which is what a machine needs to be, if not people.

Machines don't bitch and don't create a mess, but do require space, time and money... just like a wife and kids do. Even my iRobot Roomba vacuum cleaner dog-substitute requires an overhaul every three years. And all machines have risk as compared to not doing or having anything at all. But compared to people with their complexity, high maintenance, games played, outrageous demands, uncontrolled emotions and unsolvable problems... machines are no risk at all.

Less is better. Of everything... machines and people. Especially the love of.


-© 2010 by Willy

Change?

Only babies like to get changed.

I like my life just fine the way it is, thank you. I like my routine because it keeps me sane amidst all the other change that hits me and that I have no control over.

Sometimes life is just a swirl of problems, especially this time of year... the government end-of-year. My world spins. Work has to be completed and reports are due, end-of-year money has to be spent, new year budget request are input. Everybody... but everybody... has things they want, new regulations to follow and demanded expectations to meet... in addition to my already overloaded schedule. I can do a better job if I stick to well-worn procedure and schedules.

At my touchstone, the swirling comes to a stop, albeit temporary. I stick to my routine of fitness and outside activities as much as possible, sometimes slightly modified, as I've done lately in training a buddy for his first big hike.

In early 2007, I updated the house to take care of ended-relationship emotional turmoil (one major change to help take care of another major change). I actually planned to sell but the mods came out so well that I kept the house... it would have been more change otherwise. But it was a year of pure hell. Not only did I grieve about the relationship end but also one night when I came home I found my mattress in the closet (and that's where I slept) because the hardwood guys put it there to get it out of the way.

A needed TDY to Hawaii? Not for me... send a kid. Invited promotion to an important and visible position? Not for me... get the other old guy. I'm just fine the way I am. And I suspect you are too.

And a corollary: I especially don't need some gal getting interested in me, because she'll want to change me.


-© 2010 by Willy

P.S., sooo... do you like the results of the change brought about by the new congress and the new administration?