I Blame Mikee

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Update on Bicycles

OW!!

Okay, nuff said.

I'm still trying. I'm not getting better any time fast, but I am getting really good at falling.

But I'm not giving up. (Though I will take a week's break until I'm walking somewhat normal).

Seemed like a good idea at the time

My wife and I bought bicycles. I've never owned a bicycle before. The one person who tried to teach me was so worried about me scratching his bike, that I had to stop. So I never learned.

Then, last month, my kids went on a bike hike and I couldn't go along. So I thought to myself it would be a great idea to buy a bike and learn to ride. My five-year-old even volunteered to teach me. How cool is that?!

So, we found a $90.00 bike on sale for $60.00. I know, I know. If I really want to take to this, I should buy a good bike for $200.00. But the problem is, my choice wasn't "should I buy a $60 bike or should I buy a $200 bike?" The real choice was "should I buy a $60 bike or not buy anything?"

Now, I've only owned it a few hours, so I haven't really tried anything yet, but, being excited, I figured I could just hop on and try a quick trip. I even bought a helmet. So...

What I have learned so far...

• It is better to start your first bicycle ride on a paved road, not a bumpy backyard.
• It is really, really hard to build momentum on grass.
• It is really, really easy to fall off a bicycle, and travel a good distance.
• After I fall and hit the ground, I bounce back up and hit the ground a second time. That one actually surprised me.
• Helmet? Helmet, hell, I want body armour.

I need some kind of padding. You know what would really be useful? I wonder if my old football uniform would still fit?

Too bad I never played football.

Did I really only fall one time? Well, okay, if I bounce and hit the ground again, does it count as two? I am really going to ache tomorrow. My back hurts, my neck hurts, my legs hurt. My arms and shoulders are stiff and sore.

I can't wait to try again tomorrow!!

Father's Day

Father's Day, this year, lasted three days. I had a three-day weekend, and we weren't going to be at home on Sunday, so we celebrated Father's Day on Friday. My daughter bought me a hammock, my son bought me an Indiana Jones Lego Set. How cool is that? Score!

The new hammock was longer than my old one, so I needed a new place to tie it. I found an old post behind a flower-bush (my wife, I sure, could tell you what kind of plant it was). There was a metal arm attached to it, so I tied the hammock to it. Turns out the post and arm were put in when the garden was put it, about 20 years ago, to hold a bird feeder. Apparently, I weigh more than a bird feeder. I laid on the hammock, and slammed to the ground.

Right on top of the well-built old birdhouse hiding in the underbrush. The birdhouse didn't break. My back, however... So I had to crawl back to the post and find a better place to hang it. Hey, we're talking hammock-time here. A little pain isn't going to stop me. The post turned out to be strong enough, it was just the 20 year old rusty screw that couldn't hold me, so I tied back to the post. It held fine. Well enough for me to take a nap in the hammock.

Until my wife sent the dog to wake me up.

The next day, we went to cross-over camp. This is for the cub scouts, where the tigers become wolves, the wolves become bears and the bears become weblos. It's the yearly overnight camping (in a cabin) for the cubs. The first step into the cabin brings back childhood memories. Yep, the bunks still smell the same.

The kids had a great day. They built a rope-bridge and went on a nature hike. They played soccer and baseball. They ate chicken and hamburgers and hot dogs, along with pumpkin pudding cooked in a dutch-oven surrounded by briquettes. They received their awards and went through the ceremony of crossing a footbridge and receiving the next level neckerchief. They roasted marshmallows and told ghost stories.

We settled into bed, or at least, a bunk, that night exhausted. Well, the dads were exhausted. The kids could have kept going for hours (or days). Around midnight, the kids finally dropped off and I thought I would sleep. Well, we didn't realize the scoutmaster would be in our cabin. He had stayed up late to take care of the fire. So, at a few minutes after midnight, he opened the door to the cabin.

The door opening startled one kid, who jumped up and slammed his head into the bunk above. My son, startled awake, slide out of bed and hit the floor. The scoutmaster had brought a lantern (battery powered, of course) which lite the cabin like daytime. Climbing up to a top bunk, he hit his head on the low ceiling and knocked part of the smoke detector on the floor.

The kids were wide awake.

By one, everyone was finally asleep. I woke the next morning, my back aching from the birdhouse, from the bunk and from all the work the day before, groggy from no sleep. I woke at 5:30 in the morning, because the sun came up and the kids woke up to the bright light. Then the kids hurried up to the cooking area. The dedicated scoutmaster had woken at 5 to start the morning fire and get the breakfast gear started. Supervised by the scoutmaster and a few parents, the kids cooked blueberry pancakes over a propane griddle so the dads could have a Father's Day breakfast.

My son made me a blueberry pancake the size of my plate, a croissant, grapes, strawberries, sausages and hash. He even told me I was the greatest. (Okay, there's a Ward Cleaver moment). The weekend was filled with bugbites, wet shoes (my kids both ended up in the scum-filled pond at one point), the work of carrying in and out the camping gear, lost of aches and pains. In the end, it was a great weekend. And I slept really well Sunday night.

Cell Phones - or "Hey, Take it outside"

Our local libraries have started banning cell phone use inside the library. Now, hey, that makes sense. A library, despite how people actually act, should be a quiet place. It's really the only place left that at least has the expectation of quiet. I think it's a good thing, to take the cell phone to the lobby.

But people complain. They can't handle not being connected 24/7. I am old enough to remember not having access to a phone every moment of every day. But these people are addicted. Addiction is the only way to explain it. They go through withdrawals. They get crabby when told they can't use it anywhere they feel like. They get onery. They become... SMOKERS.

Okay, let's treat them like smokers. Don't just make them take the cell phones outside; Make them stand 25 feet away. Smokers have to pay extra for health insurance. Let's make cell phone users pay more for car insurance. When you see a complete stranger using a cell phone, feel free to walk up and lecture them, just like people do to smokers. Or, at least, make a disgusted face.

I have co-workers who carry cell phones at work and answer them without showing any guilt at all. I say, make them wait until a break. Smokers have to wait until a break. And, hey, don't you think of turning that phone on until you are completely out of the building. Smokers can't light up along the way, can they?

Let's pass laws prohibiting people from using cell phones in private businesses, even if those businesses actually don't mind cell phones. If you give these cell people an inch, they'll take a mile. Oooo, wait. Let's tax the hell out of them. Hah, that's it. Make them pay 50% tax on every call made. And then use the money to benefit non-cell phone users.

Hey, these things cause brain cancer, don't they. Where do I sign up to sue them for 2nd-hand microwaves? Wait, if I take up cell-phone addiction, even though I'm fully aware of the dangers, can I sue the phone companies when I get brain cancer? This is Amercia, surely there's someone I can sue.

Oh, and if these cell phone users have kids, let's make it illegal to use the cell phone in the house. Make them go out in the backyard, no matter the weather. Oh, and don't forget to charge them more if they rent a car or an apartment.

See, smokers take things in stride, so it's no fun to torment them anymore. (Must be that-there nicotine. Must relax them too much). Cell phone users start off angry even before you ever confront them. Cell phone use just makes them more irritable (well, hey, if you are going to be accessible by your inlaws, your friends and crazy uncle Jim-bob 24 hours a day, what do you expect). Since they are already upset, it'll be easier to torment them.

Much more entertaining then taunting smokers, frying ants or tormenting small animals.

Some Lawn Questions

I fixed the mower this week, so that meant I had to mow the lawn. And it made me ponder a few things…

1. When I was a kid, we had a push mower. No power, no motor. You just pushed the mower, and that made the blades spin and that cut the grass. But now I have an electric mower and that brings me to my question. Do I have an electric mower because I’m out of shape, or am I out of shape because I have an electric mower?
2. What exactly is a weed? I always assumed it was a plant you didn’t want. But I have a new definition, and I’m going to use my lawn as an example. Grass takes work to keep it in shape. You need to feed it, water it, weed it. You need to mow it. Grass is high maintenance. Clover on the other hand, thrives without any help, won’t grow to your armpits if left unmowed, is softer to walk on than grass, and does not require any expensive feeds. So, the new definition of weeds are… Anything that takes care of itself and doesn’t cost money. If it’s free and easy, it must not be worth it.
3. Dandelions are easy to grow, and edible. Roses require constant care and won’t feed you. See definition above.
4. A lawn is an example of cross purposes. We feed it to make it grow, then, when it grows, we hurry to cut it down. Where’s the sense in that?
   
   So, left to me, the American suburbs would be buried in clover, dandelions and moss, and the American families would have more time for leisure (and writing blogs). So, my lawn doesn’t say that I’m lazy. My lawn says that I’m a forward-thinking trend-setter.