Rock & Roll Heaven

"If it's illegal to rock and roll, throw my ass in jail!"
Kurt Cobain

The Beginning. I bought my first three records (round black vinyl disks) when I was 10 or 11 years old. Back in 1958 we had a music store in Wallingford, Connecticut where one could take a record into a listening booth before you bought it - just to try it out. The listening booths were always crammed full of teens and pre-teens who were in the process of being infected by the rock and roll bug.

The three records I bought that day were entitled "Johnny Be Good" by Chuck Berry, “Speedo” by the Cadillacs, and "Jailhouse Rock" by Elvis. Most of my contemporaries were listening to Pat Boone and Ricky Nelson but I was drawn to the harmony and choreography of the Doo Wop groups. This was my first foray into rock & roll - specifically R&B inspired rock. I was a huge Chuck Berry fan and I played that record over and over again. And the Cadillacs had the harmony and moves that set the stoic Ed Sullivan Show viewers on their heals.  Jailhouse Rock was for my mom who was a closet Elvis fan. I knew both my father and grandfather would pitch-a-fit if she bought it herself - they dubbed Elvis a devious influence on the young. Pa was so busy cussing during Elvis's first appearance on the Ed Sullivan show you could hardly hear "Elvis-the-Pelvis"sing.  

Back in the late 50's I was under the complete musical influence of Alan Freed, Cousin Brucie, and Wolfman Jack - all New York City DJs. The 1955 movie "Blackboard Jungle" (with a bit actor named Sidney Poitier) kicked it all off... riled up our parents and produced purportedly the first rock and roll hit, "Rock Around the Clock." Each night I huddled under my covers reading my Hardy Boy books while my radio softly and secretly played the tunes that launched the rock & roll era.

Musical Memory Joggers:  I wish I could remember life's journey a bit more clearly; the missteps of my life, my successes, goals met or ignored, and the alternative paths passed by - they are all a fading memory. The mind is a strange thing however; while I can't recall what I had for breakfast yesterday, the music of my past helps me to vividly re-experience my first kiss at the age of 11 with a blonde named Sharon, my first slow dance with Linda Welton, and just about every single word of the Doo Wop classic "In The Still of the Night" that we danced to at the Friday night YMCA teen dances.

The Journey. From 1958 until today, I experienced the metamorphosis of rock music - ever evolving and changing. While I gravitated to R&B I had to keep my love of this uptempo music pretty much under wraps - raised in the all white world of Wallingford, subtle Yankee racism made this “negro music” unappreciated by family and friends.  With the Five Satins, Chuck Berry, The Flamingos, and James Brown being the predominant tunes played on my record player, there was musical conflict in the house. When I look back on this love of R&B I am in good company.  After-the-fact I discovered the Rolling Stones, The Beatles, and so many other rock artists were also influenced by R&B and American delta blues music. 

As I aged, a wide ranging musical menu morphed pleasantly from one era to the next and sustained me during my youth and on into manhood; it included some of the following:
-- Doo Wop harmonies (The Jive Five and The 5 Satins), 
-- Detroit "Motown" soul (The Temptations, the Supremes, and The Four Tops), 
-- Memphis soul (Otis Redding and Wilson Pickett), 
-- Soul Sisters (Etta James and Aretha Franklin)
-- California surfing music (The Beach Boys), 
-- The British Invasion (The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and, the Dave Clark 5), 
-- Songs of social protest (Joan Baez and Bob Dylan),
-- Psychedelic Rock (Jimi Hendrix and Jefferson Airplane), 
-- Southern rock (Alabama and The Eagles), and 
-- The concert hall extravaganzas (Prince, The Eagles, and Fleetwood Mac).

Today. They say time marches on - in my case it has zipped by. No more records in my house, cassette tapes are long gone, CDs sit on the shelf gathering dust, while my Apple Music account and streaming music giant, Pandora, now serve as a look-back on my musical heritage.  

I picked out this song as an appropriate way to end this piece - follow this link for some appropriate lyrics from Eric Clapton - Rock and Roll Heart  

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Mind Your Crows

Let me kick this off with a quick chat about one of my favorite birds.  Four crows the size of black chickens just landed in my backyard and are cawing and cackling as they graze on the seed under my bird-feeder. Just a couple of weeks ago I caught one in the act of reducing my Vole population - GO CROW! great job!  Keep it up!

I always have enjoyed the company of crows. Back in my jogging days one or two would follow me along my route - diving, dipping, and yacking all the way. Crows are said to be extremely intelligent birds; a mother of one of my 5th grade students once nursed an injured crow back to health and, even though released back to nature, that crow became her friend for life.  Crows are also extremely curious and love shiny trinkets; if you can sniff out a crow's nest you might just find some fine silver bauble woven into the nest's structure of sticks and straw. 

But alas... crows are a misunderstood bunch and are seen by many as evil.  Some of this stems from their intelligence - if you mistreat a crow he/she will remember you forever. From sitting in a near-by tree giving you the sinister "evil-eye" to a swooping attack from the sky.  Crow-myths also abound - the web site "Squidoo" reveals that "Crows are viewed as a bad omen, often foretelling death.  It is said if they 'caw', death is very near." Based on what's going on in my backyard right now, best be saying my good-byes to y'all.  

One of the main reasons crows gained their fame for evil doings was because, like vultures, they eat dead animals - to include humans. Schedule a good old fashioned battle with swords, broadaxes, and lots of carnage and very soon after the dust settles the body-strewn fields will be visited by flocks of hungry crows nipping and tucking at our succulent body parts. 

It is amazing to me how such an intelligent and proud looking avian garnered such a sordid reputation; some quick research uncovered the following.

Celtic Warriors: The  Celts believed a crow was sacred and the Celtic term for crow indicated a massive flesh wound as a result of battle - they honored their scars from battle. As the crow eats human carcasses, Celtic poetry uses the metaphor "the crow pierced you" to mean thatyou have likely died. To the Celts crows were a sign of evil while the elegant swan symbolized the opposite - purity.

Greek Mythology: The Greeks took a less evil view of the crow and thought this bird was just a bit too gossipy.  Athena replaced him with the wise owl to stay by her side. This seems to have translated into the rather sexist reference to gossipy women who are occasionally referred to as "Old Crows."

Biblical Reference: The crow also appears in the Bible and this intelligent bird was sent by Noah to search the earth after the flood. The crow, however, did not reveal to Noah the flood was finished. Because of this crows are considered selfish and secretive.

So what's my point?  Good & Evil, Plus & Minus, Black &White, Puss & Boots, Rock & Roll... no real point and no deep thoughts on this one.  I saw this gaggle of crows and reacted in a positive way. They were such a neat little family as they rousted around my backyard.  

I would like to leave you on a positive note with a recommended video from the PBS Nature series; entitled "A Murder of Crows" it will give you an entirely new perspective on this wonderful bird. Link follows:  PBS "A Murder of Crows

A Visit From the Ghost of Christmas Past

As another Christmas season sneaks into the room; like old Ebenezer, we just can't hide from the Ghost of Christmas Past - and I am not sure we want to.  I always loved the image of this particular Dickens spirit.  The travel into my own Christmas Past was vividly brought home to me as, a week ago, I spent time with my two boys in Tampa - they are actually both grown men but more on that later.

I first visited my son Andy and his family in Tampa; they have one infant and two children.  Like most kids now-a-days, my grandchildren have way more toys than anyone deserves; many inoperable, some simply out of juice, others downright broken.  The children are deeply immersed in a combination of television, super heroes, dolls, and computer devices of all kinds - both talented and bright.

What transported me back, however, was their unfettered joy and excitement in these few weeks before Christmas.  Wrapping little AJ in my arms and whispering, "Is Santa coming?" is all it took.  I physically felt the quiver of his little body and, paying close attention, I could feel the thump-beat of his heart - the look of wonder on his face was immediate.  In that moment my own ghost of Christmas Past took my hand and walked me right back to a long-ago Christmas when I got the same response holding my baby boy Andy (AJ's dad) in my arms while whispering the same simple question.

And so as I snuggled with AJ and Adriana and we talked about Christmas I found myself becoming just a tad melancholy... mixed emotions.  The sheer pleasure of being with grandchildren just before Christmas cannot be beat but the memories of the good-times-gone tore at me.

I also spent a short time with my 35 year-old middle child - Justin.  Heck, he is far from a child but rather a hulk of a grown man - a body-builder.   Where was that skinny little kid that sat with me as we viewed countless Christmas specials on TV?  Well, he was right there next to me for about 40 minutes as we watched the black and white version of "It's a Wonderful Life."  I was transported years back in time as I heard Justin again speaking the lines uttered by poor old George Bailey; we watched knowing Clarence would get his wings... but we sat there and watched never-the-less.  That big guy sitting next to me might well have been a spindly little 7 year old - a few moments of memories with my boy-man... sheer joy and simple pleasures!

It is interesting to experience how we older folks view our grown children at this time of the year as we hearken back to Christmases long past and recall and, indeed miss, the magic.  It doesn't matter that my boys are all fully grown adults - Christmas with your children, whatever their age, is just special.  The old phrase "they will always be your babies" is oh so very true - especially this time of the year.

So my trek into the past was unexpectedly personal and poignant - it was guided my my Grandchildren and not the Ghost of Christmas Past.  It was aided by an old classic Christmas movie that re-cemented a father-son bond.  In a very short visit with my two boys and grandchildren I was able to reconnect for just a bit with those long gone feelings surrounding Christmas; it brought a tear and a smile all at the same time... like I said; mixed emotions!

The one thing that transcends all of the spirits, all of the traditions, all of the tall tales is the love we feel at this time of the year.  If you are lucky enough to have young ones scurrying about, make sure you give them long snuggles and lots of hugs and feel their excitement as you whisper on Christmas Eve... "Santa is coming tonight!"

If only... all of the credit goes to my wife Sally. She has been relentless in passing on Christmas ornaments to the grandchildren... sparkly ones, funny ones, delicate ones.  We do this based our own experience of decorating our tree - just about every ornament has a memory or a special person attached to it.  We give these ornaments to the children in our lives in the belief that this little token of Christmas will be treasured and passed on into the future and may just bring about a comment "That one came from Grammy and Grampie! They really loved Christmas!"

Cast Iron Revsited

Eureka!  My Lord I found it!  I walked into Goodwill and it was there right in front of my eyes - a 22 year old with a lot of potential.  It was a Wagner Cast Iron 11.75 inch cast iron skillet - rusty, encrusted with goop, and only $10.00.  What makes this relic better than the new Lodge Cast Iron cookware I already own?  Simple, the largest pan I have is only 10 inches - have been lookin' for a 12 inch pan for a while now.  More importantly, the old cast iron had a cooking surface that was machined smooth as a baby's bottom.  The new stuff from China is made with some suspiciously flawed iron - the cooking surface is rough and pitted. The American made Lodge Cast Iron uses a finer metal and is not quite so rough but no where near as polished as the old stuff. While possible to season a new pan so it is non-stick, the smooth slick old pans are better than the best high tech stainless steel pans out there today. Stay with me and I will prove it to you in high definition video splendor... read on.

Worth It?  If you happen to run across an old cast iron skillet carefully check out the details; the brand-mark is found on the bottom of most pans.  If you come across a skillet made by "Gibson," run directly to your computer and do some Google research.  You just may have more than a good pan... you likely have a valuable pan.  If you could care less and don't want it... call me immediately.

Bringing It Back.  This posting very simply proves one thing - with very little effort you can take an old relic and bring it back to life... short, sweet, and to the point.  For less than ten bucks I created a pan that rivals the best All Clad has to offer at $295.00 for a single pan.  If you find some cast iron in Granny's cellar, bring it into the light, dust it off, and follow these steps...

• The beginning is a real mess - rusted and encrusted - don't despair.  Begin the process by taking a stiff brush and dislodge as much of the rust and caked on goobers as possible.

• Next Step... take it to your sink and wash out the pan with regular dish-washing liquid soap - this should be the last time your pan ever comes in contact with soap.  Now the fun begins... get some sandpaper designed for sanding metal, apply some elbow grease, and scour out all of the tough stuff.  This may take some time and, ladies, forget about your nails on this job.  Finish it off with some "Barkeeper's Friend" scouring powder.  Wash, rinse, and dry.

• Now it gets pretty slick (pun intended).  Get some good old veggie oil and, using paper towels, coat the pan really well inside and out.  Wipe it, polish it, and reapply the oil. Place in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes. Take it out and oil it again - slip it back in for another 30 minutes.  Be warned... you will smoke up your house so open a window and turn on your kitchen fan. When the hour is up, take out your revived skillet and wipe it clean with dry paper towels; then apply a light coating of butter on the cooking surface and place the skillet back in the warm oven - leave over night.  Wipe it out the next morning and if the spirit moves yah, fry an egg.  You now have a last-a-lifetime non-stick pan... enjoy!

Scoff If You Will... It Really is Non-Stick!

Postscripts.  
Some pans just cannot be returned to splendor without some extra-ordinary work.  If you run into one of these... hit the Internet to take it to the next level.  Some recommend electric drills with wire brushes or an extended soak in a bath of water and Lye... be careful.

Sink damage warning.... if you have an aluminum or ceramic kitchen sink, your pan revitalization project may take a toll.  Use an old dish towel in your sink to provide some protection against scratches and dents/dings.

If Only... this would be my last mention of Cast Iron cookware.
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The "If Only" Blog Tidbits:  

• Except for stainless steel, the pans you cook with sloth off microscopic bits of the metal they are made from... as it gets absorbed into your system, copper and aluminum will negatively impact your health... cast iron won't.  Use it and you will never have to worry again about iron deficiency again.
• Do you salt and pepper your food while cooking?  With cast iron you might try putting some salt and pepper on top of the oil in the pan before you insert your food - this enhances the non-stick feature of the pan.
• Rumor has it that you cannot cook high acid tomato-based foods in cast iron as it will eat away the iron.  That would only be true in an unseasoned piece of cookware.  The seasoning you work so diligently to achieve provides that layer of protection that keeps the tomatoes and the metal playing nice-nice with each other.

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Cyclists... A Deeper Understanding

THE CYCLIST, PART 2

"If you have an apple and I have an apple, and we exchange these apples, then you and I will each have one apple.  But if you have an idea and I have an idea, and we exchange these ideas, each of us will have two ideas."  George Bernard Shaw

To the issue of "group rides" - as discussed in Part 1 there are those pesky packs of cyclists who seem to be just about everywhere on the highways and byways nowadays.  You expect them to share their piece of the road with you and, likewise, you are obliged to share the road with the cyclist.  Above all else the interaction between motorists and cyclists must be safe; if a cyclist is struck by a motor vehicle it could be game over.  If you were driving the car that hit and killed or maimed a cyclist the memory would hang on your conscience like a load of wet laundry.  My point here is to put forth at attitude of understanding so when we see the road signs encouraging us to Share the Road we will all try to abide.  So, in the fine words of Mr. Shaw, let's "exchange these ideas."

In my last posting, the final thing I presented to you was a video of an intense rotating pace line.  The video depicted a group ride that was moving along very fast with a constant rotation off the front.  If you did not take the time to view the video, I urge you to at least watch a portion of it now.

Note the following from this rotating pace line:

• The group is riding two-abreast and they took up the travel lane almost entirely.
• There is no bike lane or decent sized shoulder on the road they are riding on.
• Many cars were seen approaching the group but absolutely no cars passed them out during the video; assume most vehicles traveling in the direction of this group ride were backed up behind them... unhappy and impatient.

While those readers with a cycling background were likely impressed by this ride, the video was presented as an example of a group of cyclists who did not adhere to the Share the Road philosophy.  What should they have done?

• Save the rotating pace line (two abreast) for a more appropriate road (wider travel portion, a designated bike lane, or at least a nice wide shoulder)
• On this particular road, ride single file and ensure the leader who is "pulling" on the front rotates to the back only on straight-aways when line-of-sight is ideal for all - cars and cyclists.

Questions posed by readers, friends, and co-workers....

• Why do cyclists ride in a pace line?  The reasons vary but the most prevalent are as follows: 
• Physical Fitness / Exercise: Two hours of hard cycling burns many hundreds of calories and is an outstanding cardio-vascular activity.  
• Efficiency of effort - able to cycle farther and faster with less energy - drafting close behind others is the hallmark of the pace line.  
• Social - working as a team is a basic and positive human trait (unless a politician).  A well executed pace line represents the ultimate in teamwork.  Activity is sometimes followed by coffee, conversation, and camaraderie.
• Why do cyclists break the law (ignore stop signs, run red lights, etc.): First and foremost, cyclists have the right to ride on the road with you, the motorist.  Most experienced cyclists are very aware of their legal requirement to follow all posted laws.  That said, the laws applying to cyclists are not clearly understood by most motorists.  I'll provide two examples of  what motorists view as breaking the law - when it is not.  
• Most modern traffic lights are tripped by sensors buried under the pavement.  A bicycle is too light to trip that sensor.  Cyclists (and motorcycles) are allowed to treat a red light as a stop sign if they are the only one in that lane and the light does not change within 2 minutes.  In other words... stop, wait, and then move on through the red light.  
• At a stop sign a cyclist in Virginia has the right to take a right hand turn and ride completely through a stop sign if taking the turn onto a road with a bike lane - treated just like a yield sign for motorists.  As the cyclist never enters the portion of the road traveled by cars this move is deemed safe and is within the law.   
• When there is a white line on the right side of the road, why don't cyclists keep to the right of the white line?  Many roads have white lines along the right side but they rarely denote a bike lane - just the right side of the road.  The white line is simply a safety feature designed to assist motorists in figuring out where their lane boundary is at night or in low visibility conditions.  Many of these white lines have less than a foot to the right of them. These are considered "shoulders" and are often full of debris and pot holes - unsafe and dangerous for a bicycle.  Cyclists have a legal right to ride in the travel portion of the road such as this.  When there is a designated and marked bike lane they should ride in the bike lane unless the condition of the bike lane makes this unsafe.
• Bikers (bad term) move out into the travel portion of the road - why?  This is called, "taking the lane" and there are many reasons a cyclist will do this; two examples: 
• A cyclist is riding down a street with a line of cars parallel parked.  An alert cyclist has eyes peeled for drivers opening their doors and, if a driver in a parked car even looks like he is getting out into the traffic lane, the cyclist should signal and then take the lane.  Getting "doored" is one of the most common cycling accidents.  
• When making a left-hand turn a cyclist, after signaling, has a right to safely enter the main lane of traffic getting as close to the center line as possible.  Like a motor vehicle, the cyclist then yields to on-coming traffic and, when clear, safely makes the turn left.  There are actually a number of other circumstances when a cyclist takes the lane - the key is signaling intent and moving safely into the travel lane. 

Being Predictable:  A responsible cyclist is schooled in the art of being predictable.  After learning basic bike skills the next step is to learn to ride on the streets and coexist in a positive and safe manner with motorists.  This includes communicating by signals as well as sometimes loud verbal communications.  As a driver you may witness some of this activity and, up until now, would likely have no clue what was going on. Just a few examples of what every good cyclist already knows:

• Cyclists must be aware of the road conditions and communicate them to all in their cycling group.  The lead rider who is pulling the group will also be on watch for unsafe conditions to include glass, potholes, sticks, rocks, or gravel.  When one of these obstacles is noted the rider shouts out the obstacle and normally points to it.  If the group needs to divert into the travel lane to avoid it, a waving signal is given so all can move left.  If in a large group, other trailing riders also make the shout out.
• Be aware of surrounding motor vehicles and communicate them to all in the group; this includes cars entering the bike lane forward of the group, cars approaching the group from the rear, and cars passing the group.  This verbal notification is not always done when riding in a wide bike lane but cars would certainly be called out on a narrow road such as depicted in the pace line video you watched earlier.
• Being predictable means that everyone around the cyclist knows exactly what his/her intentions are - fellow riders, drivers, runners... yes and even those pesky squirrels that dart out in front of cyclists.  An important aspect of this skill involves hand signals - if "taking the lane" for a left turn, the trailing cyclist in the group calls out when it is safe for the group to move into the travel lane.  All cyclists in the group normally point with their outstretched left arm signaling the group's intentions.  Other signals include pointing right for a right turn or the palm of a hand pointing down and backwards if slowing or coming to a stop.
• Verbal communication is also an important aspect of riding in a group.  Motorists or pedestrians often hear this and wonder what's up?  This is just another means for a cyclist to remain predictable.  The following might be heard... "slowing, stopping, car-back, car-up, runner-up" to name just a few.   We once had a misunderstanding with a passing motorist as a group of us came upon a broken bottle followed by a pot hole - the shout out to the group went something like this... "GLASS!"  "HOLE!"  The motorist who was passing us out did not hear it that way and had some words for us at the next stop sign.

As far as the motorist is concerned, you very simply need to be cautious.  As mentioned in the previous posting, there are idiots on bikes who have no concept of being predictable or sharing the road.  When approaching a group of cyclists, assume they know what they are doing, be patient with them, and approach with care.  Pass the line only when you can do so safely and provide a separation of at least 3 feet between your car and the group, know that you can make it past the group before the next corner, and do not toot your horn - we know you are there.

So what scares the crap out of me when riding in a group or pace line?  A new rider who is unpredictable, a bike snob who blows through traffic signals and shows complete disdain for motorists.  As far as motorists are concerned, the driver who passes a group of cyclists too closely as well as a tentative motorist who passes far to the left in the on-coming lane with no regard for site lines.  And then there are the idiots, "the texters" or an otherwise distracted driver, "the goobers" who may be drinking or just have an issue with cyclists who wear spandex.  True story... in Williamsburg there was an issue with a pick-up truck containing two young males who would pass by a cyclist very closely and the passenger would then fling his door open into the cyclist - usually knocking the rider off balance and into a crash mode.

Following is a video of another pace line - a bit more controlled with some good tips for all of us.

In sumary: I have been riding my road bike out amongst cars and trucks for about 2 years now and have experienced a number of close calls and, thankfully, witnessed only a few nasty bike accidents.  This article is my attempt to allow you to view the cycling world from another perspective.  So... on behalf of all of the cyclists out there, I apologize for the bike snob idiots who have no regard for safety or sharing the road.  I simply ask you to be careful, be predictable, be vigilant, be patient, and share the road when driving around or near a group of cyclists.  As we hear you approaching from behind we have no option but to trust that you are being as predictable in your action as we are in ours.  More often than not you will get a smile and a friendly wave from an appreciative bunch of cyclists.

Share the Road?

THE CYCLIST, PART 1

Dave, his bike, and the Pacific!

This will be a short series of two articles; The Cyclist Part 1 provides a background and bounds the discussion while The Cyclist Part 2 brings you, the reader, to the table.  Weigh in, comment, and ask questions.

Many of you know my recreational exercise-of-choice is cycling but this is likely of little interest as so few of my friends and relatives are, themselves, avid cyclists.  Then it occurred to me that the non-cyclists out there are actually the motorists who smile at us, tolerate us, hold us in disdain, and (in rare cases) dislike us completely.

There is a long and negative history between the motorist and the cyclist and, like most other negative human interactions, it is likely based on a lack of communication and one or two really bad-news encounters.  The roadside sign that reads "Share the Road" is rarely heeded by either group - motorists and cyclists just do not see eye-to-eye.  This sometimes leads to confrontation and, with a 4,000 pound car vs. a 17 pound bicycle, there is no contest - the cyclist losses each and every time.

Because of the high emotions invested in this relationship, I thought it might be interesting to swap perspectives on the "Share The Road" concept; I will provide one view as both a cyclist and a motorist and you can weigh in with your own thoughts, comments, and questions.  Considering the mushrooming population of cyclists and the crush of automotive traffic vying for the same chunk of asphalt, this could turn into a most interesting discussion. 

So, in The Cyclist Part 1, let's just set the scene and narrow down the discussion. 

• Mountain Bikers: The cyclists we are not talking about here are the mountain bikers - they are normally up in the woods happily careening through the trees and underbrush along a single narrow trail... the animals look on in amazement and then scurry out of the way.  These cyclists are of little impact to you - the motorist.

• Leisurely Cyclists: We are also not addressing the recreational cyclist who rides at a slow to moderate speed around their neighborhoods or on wide paved bike trails - they sit atop a hybrid bike that is designed for comfort and exercise and are pretty tentative when it comes to auto traffic.  Some may inappropriately ride on local sidewalks. 

• Kiddos: We are also not talking about the kids on BMX bikes or the rusting Walmart Huffy. These youngsters pose a danger to themselves and those around them but this is a parenting issue that could be the subject of a future blog... but I think not.

The three main groups of cyclists that motorists most often come in contact with are the commuter and, what I will call, the recreational rider. A smaller, but significant group of cyclists, is the athlete... the racer.

• The Commuter: The commuter cyclist usually rides alone, can be seen in street clothes or what looks like workout garb; they tend to be rather unobtrusive.  The commuter rides various styles of bike - many are on road bikes or the more upright hybrid and they almost always have fenders, lights, and a storage bag draped over the rear fender - a comfortable but fast ride is what they need and an ultralight racing machine is not required.  Their single-minded focus is to get safely to and from work and save a few oil wells or some gas money along the way.  With an eye on-the-sky, their biggest concern is inclement weather.  The cycling commuter is very confident in traffic and has learned how to negotiate it most adroitly.

• The Groupie: So that leaves the nemesis of the motoring world - what I will call the group rider.  This is the population of cyclists that you may have the most angst with; they ride in groups of 8 to 25 individuals and move at a pretty good clip (17 to 30 MPH).   The group cyclist  is mounted on a very light thin-tired road bike with drop handlebars.  They are dressed in tight fitting clothing - the signature padded shorts with a colorful bike jersey - a race-team replica or one that advertises a local bike shop.  And the most disconcerting issue for most motorists - these folks are riding in large packs.  Right off the bat, packs imply aggression, hunters, armies, gangs, and cooperative chaos.  If you pay attention you may be surprised at how close they are riding to each other - 10 or 20 inches often-times separate a rider's lead tire from the bike directly in front; that seals it... these folks are reckless risk takers. This breed of cyclist rides in what's called a pace line... normally a single file string of riders.  Much to the displeasure of motorists, one or two riders occasionally pop out of the line into the travel lane and they ride side-by-side with their buds.  If and when you pass them you may also hear unintelligible yelling and screaming and that simply confirms your impression that these folks are just an out-of-control group of mindless misfits.

One more little detail to get settled - there are idiots on bikes... there are idiots in cars.  That single fact is what drives the angst, spins up the emotions, and forms the basis for this discussion.

This discourse will also benefit from a general understanding of those cyclists who ride in packs; road cyclists fall into the following general categories:

• Bike Snobs:  These are normally middle aged men with well paying jobs - BMW drivers.  They have the latest gear with bikes in the $6,000 to $10,000 range, riding outfits that cost hundreds, and they are fit and they know it.  While they missed-the-boat on the pro cycling tour, they pride themselves in leading the pack and winning what is commonly known as the "town line sprint."  Most of their conversations revolve around their average speed, power ratings, and new bike gear.  Bike snobs often have more than one bike - inclement weather?  He shows up with his rain bike.

• Racers: There is a large amateur bike racing community with men and women who train for and participate in a wide variety of races - triathlons, track (velodrome) racing, cyclocross, stage races, and criterium races... just to name a few.  These are the true athletes and you will see them on the group rides simply getting ready for a more formal race event.  You may also find racers riding in a team group - they are preparing for a team event and are on a training ride.  As riding in a mixed group often does little to prepare them for their race beyond speed, you also will see them riding alone or in pairs - usually going at a blistering pace.  

A Group Ride - California Wine Country

• Fitness Buffs & Fat Busters: This last group makes up the majority of the group riders you will encounter and they are out there on-the-road for many reasons - one of which might be to burn some calories in order to slim down or to remain their svelte selves.  There are all sorts of other reasons why this cyclist may have selected a fast group ride as a means of achieving fitness or slimming down - usually the need for a lower impact form of exercise or to add some variety to their jogging routine.  While they don't normally race, participation in charity rides is common - riding a "century" 100 mile course is a great way for them to challenge their endurance, achieve a noble goal, and support a worthy cause all in one fell swoop.  The group ride is a means to prepare for these events.  When the weather turns cold or rainy, unlike the racers, you might run into these cyclists at the "Y" taking a spin class or working out on the treadmill.  These riders set themselves up on some very good road bikes that stretch their budget up into the $2,000 range.  Split between men and women, they ride at a fairly brisk pace but not what one might consider a race-day pace. 

Be Afraid... This is a Gang?

As I mentioned, all three of these groupings are gross generalizations intended to begin our conversation.  And again, all three groups are sprinkled with one or two idiots.  That said, cyclists participating in a group ride are, for the most part, very normal people who are loving the bonding experience and teamwork necessary to ride with the group, they may be reliving the childhood thrill of riding a bicycle, and some get off on feeling the adrenalin rush associated with the high physical exertion required of a group ride.

Hopefully this background sets the table for our continuing discussion.  The Cyclist Part 2 is where you join in the discourse - in the comments section of this blog, on my Facebook page, or via e-mail (cc103acs@gmail.com); pose a question or two you might have about cyclists riding in large groups on our public roads.  I will also pulse my fellow workers at Langley Air Force Base on their questions and perspectives - they are not shy about commenting on cyclists; I hear it all the time.  I am also doing some basic research on cycling law - what are some of the exceptions to the normal motor vehicle laws that cyclists are exempt from - you will be surprised.

As a minimum, the next cycling segment will touch on what is going on inside that group ride; your questions or insights will be invaluable.

If Only... you would weigh in.  So, come on... what really pisses you off about cyclists and why?  Do you wonder what motivates them to mass in groups?  Why to they yell so darn much while they ride?  E-mail me your comments or post them at the end of this blog.  And before you go...  get the feel for a group ride through video...

Food for Thought and just to get you thinking, the embedded video shows an extremely fast group of riders.  You will only rarely happen upon a group such as this.  They are likely a mix of Bike Snobs and Racers - riding in what's called a double rotating pace line.  While perfectly legal to ride two abreast and out in the traffic lane, this group is likely causing some perturbed motorists to roll by with very negative impressions.

If Only We Could Eat Together...

Many of my writing seem to be focused on matters of the kitchen... the tools required to make comfort food... the devices that draw one to the warmth and creativity of the kitchen.  Cooking, after all, is one's attempt to provide nourishment and pleasure to friends and family living together in a difficult world.  Preparing a meal is a time-honored activity that involves sharing and gift giving at its core.  Sharing and gift giving... quite a concept when simply talking about a meal.

One thing I need to guard against As I ramble on is to not barrage you with stories from "the good old days" of my youth.  There were some joyous moments back then but also a pile of rather dark days that have been deftly suppressed   And, if one ever gets into a discussion about the days-gone-by with a history buff, they will take pains to bring out all of the reasons why those days were not so good after all - the cold war,  the Korean War, assassinations, nuclear proliferation, Vietnam, etc.  As seen through the eyes of a 10 year old, however, life could not have been more ordered and perfect.

This writing will have a tangential relationship with cooking and food but will dwell primarily on what I see as a basic child rearing and family values issue - the lost art of the meal.  Rather than preach or admonish I will simply relay the joy (and sometimes pain) of sitting around a table and being very much together with my immediate family.

• The Setting: Wallingford, CT - CIRCA 1957
• Immediate Family: Father (Ron), Mother (Jan - polio victim in a wheel chair), Sister (Kathy), Me (Davy), Collie Dog (Lassie - of course)
• Extended Family: Maternal Grandmother (Nanny), Grandfather (Pa)

Our meals were taken (yep... that's how it was put) every night at the same time; about 5:30.  As my family was living with Nanny and Pa, there were six of us gathered around a large claw foot oak table just about every evening.  On Sundays, our "big" meal of the week took place mid-day; we all assembled around the same table, however, there were usually many more relatives squeezed in.

So where is the centerpiece of today's lifestyle - the TV?  Only a minor intrusion in 1957, it was a little black & white set that was normally set to the OFF position for most of the day and it was certainly not ever on during our evening meal.  It was also far on the other side of the house in the living room - not able to be seen or heard from our table.

The TV was reserved for those special adult occasions - 30 minutes of "Douglas Edwards and the News" each evening or "The Ed Sullivan Show" on Sunday night.  TV was very much regulated for the children with early Saturday morning cartoons and cowboy shows being the focus.  Ahhhhh... the Lone Ranger, Abott & Costello, Roy Rogers, and (of course) The Bugs Bunny Show!      

 

OK... let's talk about how our mealtime unfolded... generalities are required:

Pre-meal Activities:

• Still well before women's rights kicked in, Nanny was usually cooking in the kitchen with my mom.  Pa worked in the living room at his shaky card table desk tallying up his daily silverware sales figures while listening to the news on the radio.  My father was making his way home from the factory - yep a real blue collar family.  Just before supper, sister Kathy and I were puttering about - doing homework if school was in session or washing up after a long day of outside play if in the summer.  The family is together - poised and ready to make their way to the table directly at the appointed time - 5:30.

The Meal-time Logistics:

• All of us would be called to the table - usually by Pa's raspy voice; the reminder for hand washing always went out.  We all sat down in our appointed places with Nanny at the kitchen end of the table and Pa at the opposite end or head of the table.  That seat was always reserved for the 'elder' so on Sundays when my Great Grandparents were alive, Grandpa Craig assumed that seat. 

• The meal is set in the middle of the table with the food piled high in individual bowls or on platters... now we call this serving food "family style."  Back then, that is just how we did it.  The food was passed around from one to another; a very sharing gesture when you think of it.  We had a single meal, single menu, and all food was to be at least tried.  Peas?  Yuck!  "Take 5 of them and eat every last one!"

The Menu:

• The menu usually included meat, potato, a canned vegetable, Wonder Bread, and lots of butter... all washed down with a tall glass of whole milk.  An alternative might be a casserole - mac and cheese or goulash were favorites in this house.  Surprisingly, meat was not the centerpiece of every meal, fish was almost never served, and we actually ate LIVER!  And, of course, there was always a dessert - pie, cake, rice pudding, or red shimmering fruit jello.  

• We children were encouraged to eat every morsel and were admonished for any food left on the plate with comments about how the "starving children in Africa" would appreciate the scraps that remained.  The dessert was the first bribe I ever experienced and it almost always worked, "If you don't eat your peas... then no pie for you!"  I soon became a member-in-good-standing of the CLEAN PLATE CLUB.

Table Rules and Conversation:

• The adults talked and the children listened... end of story... no exceptions.  We heard story after story about life's little lessons.  Pa in particular would have story re-runs but they were never quite identical to the one that was told two weeks ago.  Embellishment was an art that Pa simply mastered.  

• We had our most interesting listening experiences whenever a distant relative would visit our table - fresh new stories... YIPEE SKIPPY!  When Art and Flossy came all the way down from Springfield we had a jolly good time... Flossy would tell story after story while Art would sit and chuckle with a cloud of cigar smoke wafting around the table - yep... they smoked at the dinner table back in '57.  

• The primary rule for the children was to stay seated throughout the meal.  As a child, one had best not leave the table until "excused" by an adult.  A child who left the table evidently broke one or more rules and was sent to his room to think about it - no stomping or muttering... head down... go to your room.  

• Once the meal was finished we all sat around and listened to the stories of our elders' - family history with some additional tidbits thrown in to help the story along.  Some stories were funny while others were very disturbing (racism and ethnic intolerance ran rampant).  The adults rarely spoke to the children.  When we were addressed by the adults it was usually to correct us on how we held our forks or to remind us to chew our food completely; rarely (actually never) did we hear, "and how was your day today, Davy?"

Wrap Up:
So how did we get from the "then" of the 1950s to the "now" some 60+ years later?  It was all my parents doing... once they left the nest and Nanny and Pa were not in the house to enforce the traditions, they went completely modern on us.  They brought us the lifestyle of the 60s and never looked back.  The following list says it all:

• TV Dinners drove us to expect to have an endless variety of food at the table.  Little aluminum pans with ridged compartments completely changed the menu; I had peas and salisbury steak while sis had corn and meatloaf.  When my generation took up parenting we went one step farther and began serving a varied menu to our families but this time cooked from scratch.

• Roof-top Antenna and then Cable TV:  Replacing the elder male at the head of the table, the television gradually became the centerpiece of the meal.  We substituted Pa and his stories with Walter Cronkite and the News.  I will tell you, that man's stories were far from positive; rather than assuring us that all was well and ordered in the world; old Walter brought the horrors of war, space launches, and assassinations directly to our dinner table.

• TV Trays sealed-the-deal and dragged all of us away from the dining room.  Our individual TV dinners were laid out on colorful but wobbly fiberglass trays - no conversation between us at all with our eyes transfixed on the TV and the specter of world events.  

The dinner table stories died a slow and painful death; suffocated by the inventions and technologies mentioned above.  The passing of food; breaking bread if you will, ceased to take place - this gesture of sharing has been mostly snuffed out only to raise its head in restaurants or during Thanksgiving dinner.  The dining room actually has been physically and architecturally eliminated; replaced by a family room with a 55 inch LCD TV.  While the TV trays are out of vogue, all can now sit at the kitchen counter on stools or lounge on the floor while we watch CNN's Wolf Blitzer bring the Syrian conflict plop into the middle of our home.  Eating is somehow a secondary activity.

I am now 65 years old and Sally and I always try to sit down for a meal together at our little round Bistro table.  Whenever we have guests or relatives we revel at the opportunity to gather at our rather large dining room table - it is really neat.  But inevitably the children are not very good members of the CLEAN PLATE CLUB with gobs of food left on their plates.  Their parents do not even think of bringing up the masses of starving children in Africa with them.  The kiddos dismiss themselves from the table without so much as a word; they proceed to run around or roll on the floor and the stories that attempt to get told by the adults are short-lived - interrupted by the need for one or more to sneak a look at the text messages that came in during the meal.  Story telling and story listening is a lost art. 

And so we can't go back to those more ordered days and I've really stopped trying quite so hard.  When visiting our house, I still subject my family to the sit-at-the-table ordeal and they do their best to put up with it... I appreciate that.  Humoring the elders is acceptable for them and for us - especially when I still have my wits about me and know it's happening.  

That said, I am going to try an experiment... Sally and I will soon sit down for a very special meal where I will ensure the menu includes meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and frozen Green Giant Niblets.  I will put on some old 60's rock ballads, turn off the TV, and we will tell stories.  When the food is fully consumed we will continue to sit and tell more stories.  After dinner I will fire up NETFLIX and we will watch an episode of Lucy... and then... and only then, all will be right with the world for just that one night.

If Only Nanny and Pa could come back and put things back in order.  "Nanny, does the fork go on the left or the right?"