Quote of the Day

Posted by Greybeard on Apr 5th, 2009 in Days of Old | Comments Off

“To  see a thing uncolored by one’s own personal preferences and desires is to see it in it’s own pristine simplicity.”

Bruce Lee,  The Toa of Jeet Kune Do

We lose a few more of them everyday.

Posted by Greybeard on Mar 5th, 2009 in Days of Old | Comments Off

This is a must read!!!

click this – My Father asks for Nothing.

  This was ‘my’ Dad,  and Here’s one of his tales of WWII.

Found some old pictures

Posted by Greybeard on Mar 1st, 2009 in Days of Old | 2 comments

We found a batch of pictures of “Grifter RavenClaw“  aka:  Grif  aka: Griffy  aka: Grief  aka:  GrifDog.  These are digital photo’s of real photo’s,  so the quality isn’t that good.  He weighed in at around 128 lbs in these photo’s,  the last being dated Sept. 2003.  We lost him to cancer,  that Christmas.

  I sure miss this old fellow!

Random Thoughts

Posted by Greybeard on Feb 10th, 2009 in Days of Old, News and weather | 3 comments

Imprimis came today,  with an adaption of a speech by Rush Limbaugh.   First off,  I’m not a listener of Rush.  Not that I wouldn’t listen if the opportunity arose,  I’m just not near a radio that often, with time to listen.  The intro goes like this:

“Rush Limbaugh launched his radio broadcast into national syndication on August 1st, 1998, with 56 radio stations.  Twenty years later it is heard on nearly 600 stations, by approximately 20 million people each week, and is the highest rated national radio talk show in America.”

And this is the guy,  the Liberal’s want to legislate off the air???????

Also in the mail,  was a letter from the “UAW Retiree Medical Benefits Trust”.   (Note:  I worked for over half of my career under the UAW for Generous Motors).  With the problems GM has been having,  a year or so ago we recieved notification that GM was shifting the burden of our retiree healthcare to the UAW and of course, GM was going to generously fund this new Benefits Trust.   Well,  I wish I would have written down my thoughts when I heard this news.   Today,  approximitely 1 year before the UAW takes over management of our healthcare,  I get a letter from them.  This gist of the letter breaks down to something like:   We’re reminding you of the fact that in about a year,  we will be taken over the management of your health care.  We’re also reminding you that GM has genererously prefunded a trust (for us to manage) that will pay for your healthcare.  We’ve been recieving cash payments, and investing them wisely, with all intentions of being able to fund your healthcare long into the future.  (THEN THE SHOE DROPS)  Unfortunatley, (I had to go back and look to be sure they used the word “unfortunatley”) recent ecomomic downturns,  have had a great affect on this plan.  (Ya know,  I sorta ken that as sounding rather ominous).  And in closing,  we’ll let you know next year,  if you still have any healthcare.

Now this is almost word for word the way I would have written it,  the day that I heard our healthcare program was changing management hands. 

Another thought for today,  I hear Obama’s Socialist Stimulus package finally got through,  all I can say is,  I hope it does some good,  even though history has proven that it won’t,  (and we, our children, and their children, will be paying for it for many years to come).

Finally,  a link from Brigid,  sent me over to “America’s Outback“,  and the photo that greeted me sent me immediately into revery about my lost pal “Grifter”.  I’ve likely written about Grif before,  and he still crosses my mind on a quite frequent basis.  He was 120 lbs of long lanky Rottweiler.  Protector, confidant, friend, companion.  Cancer took him at 8.5 years old,  but it was a good 8.5 years.  This painting of him,  hangs over the entry to our dining room.  (painted by Kim at Dog a Day )

 click for full size.

Not quite flying

Posted by Greybeard on Jan 26th, 2009 in Days of Old | 2 comments

Now if I could write like this,

http://mausersandmuffins.blogspot.com/2009/01/takeoffs-are-optional-landings-are.html

You’d have a really good story following this sentence.

Reading Brigid’s article titled, “Takeoffs are optional, landings are mandatory“,  I somehow felt a connection with this long time pilot,  even though I’ve never flown, (in a plane that is). 

“it’s got more horsepower than you’ll know what to do with and feeling the rush of air coming back,,exhilarating” ,

“This isn’t some plane that you occupy, this is a plane that becomes part of you,”,

“the choreography of brain and hands, wood and metal, that drive you towards the horizon”

These are just a few of the lines that bring back thoughts of my glory days of Enduro bike racing.   After reading the comments on the article,  (even before),  I realize that most all of the readers, associated airplanes with the article.   The mechanic’s,  the comaraderie, the one-ness with the machine, even the spirituality,  are all part of it.

For me,  it was a 90 horse power,  217 pound, two wheeled, knobby tired, two stroked, woods machine.   Be it Yamaha, or Kawasaki,  it was always a hot-rod dirtbike and a few like minded friends and family members.  

Horsepower?  For sure,  more than any sane person knew what to do with.  

Melding with the machine?  Yes,  becoming “one” with the machine,  you rocket through close packed giant trees, thick underbrush, thorns, wet knarly roots, mud, and sand,  at speeds that the average mortal would not understand,  or even believe.  (Occasionally, getting reminded of your speed, by a grazing thud of your shoulder against the rock solid surface of a tree.)

Choreography of mind, and full body?  After a long day’s ride,  you discover hundreds of muscles that you never knew you had.  Some sort of strain/pain, in every part of your body that there is a muscle,  because every muscle in your body is used and abused repeatly every half-second or so.  The faster you go,  the farther ahead you focus your attention.  You plan your route and technique, through the foward trail well before you reach it,  because if you don’t,  your reflexes aren’t nearly fast enough to make everything happen correctly.

After an hour or so out,  possibly after a crash or two,  it all starts to come together.  The throttle, the shifter,  the brakes.  The feel of the individual knobb’s on the tires,  as they grab that most important bit of soil that,  that makes the difference between T-boning a tree, and flying through a pair of tree’s 20 inchs apart, with a quick wag of the handlebars.

Speed is alway’s at the forefront.  Not, raging, blinding speed,  but smooth, confident speed.  You might have your fastest run ever through a particularly nasty piece of territory,  just before breaking into a long smooth clearing,  where you idle along in top gear, enjoying the scenery, and wildlife.  Averaging 24 miles per hour for up to 16 hours,  (the basiss for a Michigan Enduro) through the woods, swamps, sand pits, etc,  may sound somewhat tame,  but I can assure you,  it entails often pulling 75 mph through stuff that most people wouldn’t try to walk through.  

The crazy long weekends,  followed by the hours of cleaning and disassembling the bike.  Looking for wear or stress cracks.  Then lubrication and reassembling it with loving care,  after all,  this machine,  is going to be your lifeline,  in the next run.

And of course after the man/machine thing,  (or girl-machine thing), there was usually the campground.  Often no-where’s near a real campground,  but in the true, wild country of northern Michigan.  Family , friends, and food, around the campfires.  Stories of the day,  stories of past days, lubricated by an occasional beer, pot of coffee, or other form of liquid refreshment. 

Thanks Brigid,  for bringing back some of these memorys.  It’s not quite flying,  but it’s darn close.