bicycle Archives - Page 5 of 6 - Ramblin' with Roger

Proximate disaster

A blizzard and several avalanches in the Himalayas in central Nepal are reported to have killed more than two dozen people

When I read about wildfires in San Diego County, California, or flooding in Mecklenberg County (Charlotte), North Carolina, I contact the appropriate sister to check out if she’s being affected. Usually, the answer is no, though one year, a fire was uncomfortably close.

They do the same for me. Flash floods five miles from Albany made the national news, but the actual storm missed me.

I was thinking about this because my friend Karen, who I’ve only known since 1958, has been in Bhutan and Nepal. Cyclone HudHud created some landslides in Nepal. So when we heard that a blizzard and several avalanches in the Himalayas in central Nepal are reported to have killed more than two dozen people, her friends, including me, were concerned.

She explained on Facebook(!), where I purloined her picture, that, according to the local paper The Himalayan, “rescue missions are underway on Huinchili,” one of the mountains visible to her on the trek. Fortunately, she went no higher than 7000 feet; she did have to endure hiking uphill for six hours in “incessant raw rain.” But the snow was at much higher elevations, causing the avalanches.

Some guy in Albany riding a bike got shot, apparently in the head, at 9:40 a.m. on Thursday. I found this more than a little unsettling. When I started riding my bike to the choir that evening, I realized that I just didn’t want to be out; totally irrational, I know, but nevertheless true.

Mistakes were made in treating Ebola in the United States. The second nurse who got infected should not have been allowed to fly. I’d bet money, and I seldom do, that at least one of the two US nurses who got infected were exposed when they took off the protective suits.

But all the conspiracy theories about Barack Obama, that he, e.g., wanted the disease to come to the US to get back at white people shred both common sense and common decency.

Listen to my little pep talk, instead of what that person said

When someone, or several someones, say and do stuff that I think is crazy, I can yell and scream at them, but I have found this to be singularly unhelpful in getting rid of my frustration.

Reprinted from my Times Union blog.

I’m riding my bicycle to work earlier in the month, obeying all traffic laws. When I get onto the main drag, I heard this yelling behind me. There was this yahoo in the shotgun seat of the car, screaming some unintelligible thing to me. Well, not exactly IN the seat, but with his torso halfway out of the window. It wasn’t angry yelling, it had the mocking and somewhat crazed tone of Woody Woodpecker. Since I wasn’t in the car’s way, I can only surmise it was some sort of comment about… well, I’d be speculating.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Once it took place on Western Avenue, but the car stopped at a traffic light, and I caught up with the auto. The car’s passenger and the guy nervously said, “Heh, heh, I was just kidding, man.” But the recent guy was too far away to bother with.

Five seconds later, some guy on the sidewalk, witnessing this interaction, starts jabbering at me, and the only word I heard clearly was what polite society calls the N-word. I had neither the time nor inclination to deal with him and rode off.

In the words of Alice’s Restaurant by Arlo Guthrie, “But that’s not what I came to tell you about. Came to talk about…”

Mantra.

When you’re in a situation in which someone has said or did something wrong to you, and you don’t have the opportunity and/or the desire to respond in kind, what mechanism do YOU use to get past the incident?

Mine came to me about thirty years ago, when I bought the album Keep On Doing by the Roches, produced by Robert Fripp. The last track is Keep On Doing What You Do/Jerks On The Loose, written by Terre and Suzzy Roche. I could only find a live version of the song.

Here are some of the lyrics:

Look who did it to you
Joker over there with nothing to do
Don’t let ’em get through
Keep on Doing what you do

Why don’t you listen to my little pep talk
Instead of what that person said
And now I’m gonna open up the window
And you will come in off that ledge

You work too hard to take this abuse
Be on your guard jerks on the loose

When someone, or several someones, say and do stuff that I think is crazy, I can yell and scream at them, but I have found this to be singularly unhelpful in getting rid of my frustration. It just doesn’t make me feel better, but rather, gives me the sense that I’m as out of control as they are.

Instead, I say to myself, usually shaking my head sadly, “Jerks on the loose.” If it’s one of those drivers going through an Albany green light (i.e., red for less than five seconds) and almost kills someone, I might say, “Be on your guard; jerks on the loose.” SO much better for my blood pressure.

This doesn’t mean I NEVER succumb to a bit of ire, but often I find there’s a better way.

What’s It To Ya?

I didn’t NEED help, didn’t ASK for help. If/when I do, I’ll be sure to make my desire for help known.

I tend to have a rather laissez-faire attitude towards other people’s action unless it’s harmful or venal, or otherwise stupid. Why can’t I get the same courtesy? And it’s always the little stuff that gets on my nerves.

Item: I ride my bike part of the way to work, then catch a bus most of the rest of the way (to get past a hill I cannot make without being all sweaty for work), placing my bike on the bus. So, the other day, someone asked me why would I ride my bike when the forecast in the afternoon was so lousy, with a probable rainstorm? And it sounded rather accusatory, in the “What were you thinking?” mode. And she’s not the first person to ask the question.

Well, here’s the answer:
1. If it’s raining, I’ll just put the bike on the bus ALL the way home.
2. The forecast is occasionally wrong, and if I didn’t bike when rain is projected, I’d almost NEVER ride.
3. The storms generally strike around 4 pm, and I don’t go home until 5:30.

As it turned out, we had two wicked storms, one at 2 pm, and another around 4:15. It was still raging at 5:15, but by the time I left, it had abated, and I rode half the way home, per usual.

Item: it’s really hot at a rehearsal. I go to the bathroom, pour cold water over my head. Someone notices the residual water and asks about it. “Why would you do that? why wouldn’t you just go outside?”

Well, because:
1. The effect of the outdoor coolness would dissipate as soon as I came back in, whereas
2. The cold water stayed in my hair for several minutes, keeping me cool for an extended period.

There are a couple of other examples, but you get the idea.

I get the sense that these folks meant to be helpful, though they tend to sound judgmental. But I didn’t NEED help, didn’t ASK for help. If/when I do, I’ll be sure to make my desire for help known.

I’ve noted that others have the same type of problem. one friend unfriended someone on Facebook who accused her of “playing” at 2 a.m. when she was working. And had she been playing, who was he to judge?
***
Arthur made an interesting observation:

“I have a simple pop-culture mantra that I often repeat as a sort of caution for others because it’s kept me out of social media trouble: Everything you love, someone else hates; everything you hate, someone else loves. So, relax and like what you like and forget about everyone else.

“There’s nothing wrong with choosing to stay out of pointless squabbles on purely subjective matters of taste. We all have far more important things to worry—and fight—about.”

I note this because a blogger I know personally suggested that the duo Hall & Oates SUCKED and that only people who liked them did so ironically. Gee, I have no idea how to like something “ironically.” I noted that I liked a lot of their output “in the mid-70s, not so much in the late ’70s, but again in the early ’80s. Without irony.”

Private Eyes – Hall and Oates.

TW3, or how Johnny Depp wrecked my Friday

I was watching two 2nd graders, Lydia and her friend Leah.

There was this TV show in the 1960s called That Was The Week That Was. It was on NBC TV, in 1964 and 1965, based on a 1963 British show of the same name, which satirically summarized political events. Sometimes, life feels particularly out of kilter, maybe like a Tim Burton movie.

Saturday: I spent shopping with my father-in-law. I must say that I almost never shop in malls – they make me verklempt – but went to two of them that day. One, the evil Crossgates, I had been to only once in the past decade or more, and that to a free movie. It’s, unfortunately, the only place around here with an Apple store, which did fix my father-in-law’s computer problem. Then we went to Colonie Center. Both of these places were amazingly crowded, especially in the parking lots, which makes me think the financial crisis must be over.

Then to K-Mart, which looked run down, and had relatively few patrons, which made me feel as though it were March of 2009. We had a little party for the Daughter afterward.

Sunday: Church and housecleaning.

Monday: Took off to take care of some chores. I always overestimate how much I’ll get done on a day off. My bicycle has not been operating well. The rear tire was not “true”, and on every rotation, it was as though I had applied the brakes. The tire couldn’t be “trued”, so needed to be replaced. I had to leave the bike there, which was just as well, since the temperature dropped like a stone, and the wind picked up, during the day. Then planning for and attending the Friends of the Library meeting; I’m on the board, and in charge of the annual meeting. Since it was the Daughter’s actual natal day – though she doesn’t consider it to be so until 10:27 p.m. – we has some presents.

Tuesday: Work – the secretary was out, and I was answering phones, so I got very little reference done, especially in the morning.

Wednesday: Actually a productive workday, even though we had a library staff meeting. The Daughter went to bed around 8:30, but was up a couple of hours later with – let’s say, stomach distress. Both her parents were up with her until midnight.

Thursday: Home with the not all that sick child. The Wife leaves work early so she can get me to work on time for the March birthday party honoring me and one colleague. Still managed to get a couple reference questions done. Surprisingly get to the bike shop before it closed to retrieve the vehicle, grabbed a sandwich, and later had choir rehearsal.

Friday: The Albany schools were closed for some reason, and I was watching two 2nd graders, Lydia and her friend Leah. On the last half-day off from school during a workweek, Leah’s parents watched Lydia, and now it was my time to reciprocate. We played Uno, hide and seek, kickball, Chinese checkers; I was so exhausted and achy after that day, I could have gone to bed before supper. We also watched that Alice in Wonderland film with Johnny Depp, which was just fine. Afterward, though, the picture tube on the TV seemed to have died; I’m not saying it’s causal, but this week, I wouldn’t doubt it.

So today, there’s a surprise party, with all that entails. I dasn’t say more.

March Ramblin’

For my birthday this year, I had come across this Facebook thing whereby people could contribute $10 in my name to the American Red Cross. I picked them specifically, not only because they do good things, but because they helped me possibly save a life. Back in May of 1995, I successfully performed the Heimlich maneuver on an older woman in my church at the time who was choking on some meat, without breaking her ribs. I learned that at a Red Cross training that I took in high school.

Anyway, some people did this, some people were confused by how to do it electronically and instead gave me checks. Hey, it’s all good.

And that was before the Japan earthquake, and aid organizations such as the Red Cross in whatever country you are in can use your help even more.

Still, I got a couple of gift cards, one from Amazon, one from Borders. So I got my fix of new music for a while. From Borders, I got the greatest hits albums of the Guess Who (my previous copy had disappeared), and Peter, Paul, and Mary (I saw Peter and Paul at Proctors in the fall of 2010). And I was really pleased with myself with my Amazon purchase. I looked at my wish list and noted that a Sheryl Crow album had gone down from whatever to under $5. A Madeleine Peyroux album was down at least $3 to around $10. And Judy Collins’ cover album of Leonard Cohen songs, used to be $16+ but was down to under $11. The grand total was $25.15, plus 84 cents tax, for a total of $25.99, minus the GC for a massive charge of 99 cents to the credit card. ($25 was the minimum to get free shipping.) Oh, I may have purchased newish albums by Robert Plant, Mavis Staples, and R.E.M. as well.

Carol and I got to see an amazing percussionist, Dame Evelyn Glennie, with the Albany Symphony Orchestra at the Troy Music Hall, performing a piece written by Academy Award-winning composer, John Corigliano (“The Red Violin”). Thanks to our friends Philip and Marilyn who couldn’t use the tickets. In the same week, we also saw The Lion King at Proctors in Schenectady, which was great.

My wife was confounded as to what to get me for my birthday. She thought about getting a bicycle. But, using the $100 from the CSN stores I got from Lily Hydrangea, I bought a Mongoose myself for $59 additional. She thought to buy me a TV, to replace the one we have with only two volumes, inaudible and LOUD; but then my friend Uthaclena and his wife offered their spare set when they showed up with their daughter as a surprise on my birthday weekend; the following weekend, he brought up the set.

And the wife did buy me a book, the autobiography of Ed Dague, the local newsman I admire, but a friend from work had already given it to me.

So she let me have a card party, specifically a HEARTS party, on March 19. There was a period in the 1980s where a group of us would play hearts once, twice, even thrice a week, always at the home of our charismatic and maddening friend Broome and his “this woman is a saint” wife, Penny.

At the card party, I got to see my old friends such as Orchid, who I goaded by e-mail – “You HAVE an A game?”; Jeff and Sandy, Jendy, and of course Broome. As they say, a splendid time was had by all.

So it’s been a pretty good birthday month, thanks to many of you. Well, except for some major computer problems at work, but that’s finally fixed.

Second place in this crossword contest, by my boss, is not bad, especially when the winner was a ringer.

The Cheap Flights song, complete with dancing. And subtitles?

Lots of Elizabeth (“I hate being called Liz”) Taylor tributes out there; here’s the one from Arthur.

In answering my questions, Jaquandor says something shocking about Richard Nixon. Worse, I’m inclined to agree with him.
**
My buddy Steve Bissette writes about D.W. Griffith’s two Biograph caveman movies, Man’s Genesis (1912) and Brute Force (1914), with a link to the latter.
***
Diagram For Delinquents Kickstarter project:

“This is a documentary film about the most hated man in comics history: psychiatrist Fredric Wertham.

“Beginning in the late 1940s, Wertham began publishing articles linking comic books to juvenile delinquency. This work culminated in his now-infamous 1954 book, Seduction of the Innocent. Burnings of comics were reported across the United States, and Congress held hearings into the matter, which helped spur the creation of the self-censoring body the Comics Code Authority…”
***
Google Alert finds – other people named Roger Green:

Roger Green Pt 1/5 ‘Feng Shui & Building Biology’ ‘Conversations with Robyn’
Roger has a background in Chinese Medicine and was a pioneer in introducing the ancient knowledge of Feng Shui to the western world.
This clip also shares some info on the harmful effects of wireless broadband on our health and sleeping patterns.

Custom Knives Created By Roger Green

Patients who walk through the doors of Dr. Roger Green’s clinic are eagerly greeted by Izzy, Green’s 5-year-old Basset hound.

One of those passengers at Narita Airport in Tokyo, on flight No. 276, next in line on the runway when the earthquake hit, was the Rev. Roger Green, longtime pastor at Grace Baptist Church in Middletown.