A Pleasant Morning

The temperature is cool but not cold,

unusually pleasant for early June.

The world keeps getting hotter

as does the political rhetoric,

but this morning is perfect.

The two young border collies are resting  

after an intense bout of Frisbee catch-and-fetch.

One lies on the table

by the wide front window

undisturbed by squirrels on the bird feeder.

My wife and surrogate daughter still sleep.

I'll make their coffee soon.

I already had a cup

as I washed last night's dishes,

a clean start to the day.

Laus canis

 

Jaeger with a blue (Marian) halo.

I used to look kindly upon old men walking their dogs. Now I am they. I am recently retired, transitioning from students to a young dog. Already he has loosened my arthritic hip with countless episodes of Frisbee tossing and brightened my outlook with his pleasure at our daily dog walks.

Even the occasional bagging of a sidewalk turd is no source of irritation. No,the monstrous deposition becomes a symbol of my virtue, my belonging to a sacred society, as I stroll along with the bag displayed like a young acolyte processing with the monstrance.

We both are proud of our virtue.

The Interpretation of Art

I admit to having the maturity of an adolescent boy, but the University of Dubuque's sculpture outside its welcome center might make a more mature person giggle:

Sculpture abutting the Peter and Susan Smith Welcome Center at the University of Dubuque.

I thought of the inspiration of my scientific predecessors, such as Val Kilmer in Real Genius, and considered developing a new course, Boulder Balancing,  or a cross-listed course with music. Hard Rock for the Rock Hard.  But even if I could slip it past the administration, some parent would probably complain about their innocent college student child being exposed to such mind-expanding material.

Instead, I walked around the sculpture, admiring its form, photoing it from a low angle looking upward.  And suddenly I realized that I had totally misunderstood the sculpture.

This was no paean to a penis!

No, this was a statement about Mother Earth's crushing of male hubris:

A different angle dangles a different interpretation.

In geology classes, I have often talked about the death of the dinosaurs when a huge rock from space impacted Earth, killing off the dinosaurs, and I was reminded of the words sung by The Police:

Walking in Your Footsteps

Fifty million years ago

You walked upon the planet so

Lord of all that you could see

Just a little bit like me

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Hey Mr. Dinosaur

You really couldn't ask for more

You were God's favorite creature

But you didn't have a future

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Hey mighty brontosaurus

Don't you have a lesson for us

You thought your rule would always last

There were no lessons in your past

You were built three stories high

They say you would not hurt a fly

If we explode the atom bomb

Would they say that we were dumb?

We're walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

Walking in your footsteps

They say the meek shall inherit the earth

They say the meek shall inherit the earth

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Gordon Matthew Sumner

Walking in Your Footsteps lyrics © Songs Of Universal Inc.

Searcher

 Many years ago, my friend, Jim, went on an Outward Bound trip to Maine.  The trip included a solo time on an island, a couple of days meant for contemplation.  Afterward, a counselor gave him a quotation by John Kavanaugh about being a searcher.  Later, when my dad got sick and died, Jim shared it with me.

A few years back I made a presentation that included that quotation.  Below are the parts from Kavanaugh.

World-Wide Web

When I was young
the web entangled,
wrapped me tight and
squeezed my identity
into its dark belly---
constriction.

The web covered my eyes,
left me hung up
on religion,
sexual norms,
misogyny and racism---
Southern culture.

But now,
a web of connections,
of people I choose,
of people I love,
friends and family---

that web supports me. 

Riding Tips for the Honda Africa Twin Adventure Sports ES DCT

I've ridden motorcycles for many years, but when I purchased the 2022 Honda Africa Twin Adventure Sports DCT, I still had a steep learning curve ahead of me. This video was particularly helpful. 

I picked the Africa Twin DCT for several reasons:

1. I have developed arthritis in my left hip, and the DCT means I don't have to shift gears with my left foot.
2. My hands cramp after a short while on a traditional motorcycle, such as the Kawaski I owned previously.  The DCT means there is no clutch lever to worry about.  In addition, the Honda ES model comes standard with both cruise control and grip warmers.  Last fall, I rode over 5000 miles on a 6.5 week trip, and my hands handled it fine.
3. I mostly ride alone, including on my trip West, and Honda dependability means a lot to me.

Mounting the Africa Twin

But riding it took practice:

1. It's taller than any bike I owned previously.  Just getting on it with my arthritic hip, especially when it was loaded for traveling, was a chore.  However, my dealer, Randy Sindt of Sindt Motors in Dubuque, showed me how to step up on the peg while the kickstand is still down, as shown in the video above.  It was a huge benefit.  I've seen online videos of short riders trying to throw their legs over the saddle from the ground.  What a struggle.  An unnecessary one, too.
2. I've dropped bikes multiple times, always at slow speeds.  Several things helped prevent new falls:
• Never lock the front brake when the wheel isn't straight.  Never.  To keep myself from grabbing a handful of brake, I put a single finger on the front brake lever.  That's enough for slowing the bike quickly, but it also has so far kept me from locking it up.  When I dropped the bike (twice) out West, I snapped the front brake lever short.  That turned out to be a blessing, and I rode several thousand miles before getting back to Dubuque to replace it.  I couldn't grab a handful of brake if I had wanted to!
• Since the DCT doesn't have a clutch, you can't ride the friction zone.  I finally learned to both give the bike a bit of throttle at the same time that I stepped solidly on the rear brake.  The DCT will then feather the clutch for you.  I can creep along below walking speed, using the rear brake to control speed as one would a traditional clutch.  This is a game-changer.  And the bike simply won't stall, a huge additional benefit of the DCT.
• Practice slow-speed maneuvers.  In pretty weather, I still practice figure-8s, weaves, and other slow-speed maneuvers at a nearby parking lot. An extra 10 minutes in the parking lot before a ride reacquaints my body with the bike at slow speeds.
3. Starting off on an uphill slope or, worse, a side slope was always tough.  But with the DCT and a single finger over the front brake lever, I can twist the throttle and get going while still having both feet on the ground.
4. Before I began preparing for my trip West (photos here), I had never been on overnight camping trips by motorcycle.  Everything for six weeks except food had to fit on the bike.  I'll write more soon about my packing list.
5. The wind out West was fierce, with 60+ mph winds on a section of I-80 near Laramie, Wyoming.  The Africa Twin had the weight and stability to get through it.  I just had to learn to trust it.

Overall, a lot of the practice was about gaining confidence without getting complacent.  I once heard John Wooden, the famous UCLA basketball coach, speak at a basketball camp I attended in middle school.  He said, "Be quick, but don't hurry."  

It's all about the attitude you bring to what you do.

 

A Different Christmas Present

Christmas was different this year.  Our home is finally an empty nest, our younger daughter having graduated from college and moved West to the same town where her sister lives. Last year we traveled there, a long drive with bad weather on the drive home.  Why not meet somewhere a bit further south?  We chose Moab, Utah.  We booked a single room that sleeps six---the first place I've seen with queen-sized bunk beds---and met our daughters and their men there.  We had a great time hiking, exploring, and soaking in the outdoor hot tub.  

But that is not what this is about.  Instead, it's about the present I received.

But first, a bit of family history.

Back in 1992, I was a bachelor teaching geology at the University of New Orleans.  My mom still lived in Walnut Cove, NC, in the house I grew up in, and I planned to visit her for the holidays. Mom was always generous with presents, but I knew of nothing in particular that I needed.  So I sent mom a list of 10 questions and asked her to answer them as my present.  I started with "What was life like when you were a little girl?"

My mom, Ina Easley.

Mom bought a journal, answered the questions, and included some photos like the one above.

My daughters have seen the journal and heard me talk about it, a prized possession.  And Anderson Copper's podcast about grief that he started when cleaning out his mom's apartment after she died stimulated me to revisit and digitize it.  It's available here.

 This year, they decided to do something similar.

Ananda and Tess bought a journal and wrote early and good memories of their time with me while growing up.  Then they gave me a list of questions to answer, which I'm currently working on.