Hard for me to sit quietly...

Michael Brown's shooting death by a Missouri police officer has sparked what, to some, seems to be a national outrage, but to a group of citizens of Ferguson, Missouri, the reaction to an aggressively out-of-control teenage offender. Many have written so-called think pieces, but at the heart of it all, it's important to remember, that although Brown has been touted as a symbol for racial injustice in America — and yes, he was  a human being, but as evidence may suggest, even a flawed one. Even in the fierce debate and sometimes slanted media firestorm that has surrounded Brown's death, we must keep Brown's humanity in perspective. That same argument must be applied to officer Wilson's situation. Should we allow those, who we've delegated to uphold order in our streets, to be subjected to much less. 

Just one last thought before I move on, how many of us have been able to examine all of the evidence that the Ferguson grand jury was called on to consider. And consider it in the great detail that they were able to apply. It's not to say that Brown's death should be not mourned. It's a great loss for his family and friends and should be seen as such. But he is not yet ready for sainthood.

Recently a friend of mine and his wife were the subjects of a home invasion, during which they were beaten, cut, and threatened with death. When the invaders left the house momentarily, my friend locked the door behind them. Whereupon, the invaders, realizing that they had been locked out of the home, shot through the door to regain entrance. In the interim my friend and his wife had sought refuge behind the door of their bedroom. The invaders burst into the room and my friend, who had recovered a weapon that was hidden in the room, was forced to shoot the young man charging into the room. That young man later died or was left to die, it is uncertain which… His parents will mourn his death. I'm sure his humanity will also be considered in the media. However, I must also think of the parents of my two friends. They will also go through mourning. They will mourn the loss of a feeling of security and safety that a home should offer. And that is to say nothing regarding the personal attack and loss of innocence their children were violently subjected to.

I lived in a nation more peaceful than the one I now live in. I lament and mourn its loss. And I contend that reactionaryrism on either side is not the answer. Strident voices from left or right do little more than drive us further and further away from a chance at moving the perceived peaceful home of the past into the present and projecting it into the future. 

Motorcycles and Trabants....

It was about this time in the evening on Veterans Day 1989, which was celebrated on a Friday because November 11 fell on a Saturday. Kathy had arranged for one of her mega shopping trips to buy such things as baskets, porcelain, and crystal at shops and stores close to the Czechoslovakian border. My job was to drive our 'blueburb' of happiness, our shiny, blue Chevrolet suburban and to work my miracles at providing lunch from the various bakeries and butcher shops.

After a full day of shopping, we were on our way home on the autobahn on a poorly lit section between Nürnberg and Heilbronn. It was then that we noticed some dim taillights. Thinking it was another one of those German long-haul rigs, notoriously poorly lit, we began complaining and comparing it to similar, but much better lit, rigs on American highways. Amid snarl and gripe we realized that it was not a truck at all. Rather a motorcycle carrying a family and their luggage. It was a family speeding away as best they could from East Germany. Borders had just been opened in the last few hours. Then we began noticing similarly laden motorcycles and those strange little East German cars. The Trabant, often referred to as the worst car in the world. Some were simply left abandoned yards into West Germany. Those still on the highway were equally laden in proportion to their size. However if I had to choose between motorcycle and Trabant, I would have reluctantly chosen Trabant. From the traffic on that autobahn, it seemed as if the entire population of East Germany were moving to the west.

What I and the other occupants of the suburban were witnessing was a great escape. An escape now made so much easier and safer by the opening of the border between East and West. Those cars and motorcycles carried entire families and their belongings. We sat warmly ensconced in our comfortable car, laden not with needs but with luxuries as we witnessed these peoples' flight to freedom.

That is an evening forever indelibly etched in my memory. Later that month or perhaps later into the winter, I made a deal with some acquaintances and friends who had access to the wall in Berlin to bring me several small pieces. Unnecessary but cherished mementos of that time in history, a time never to be forgotten.

To me Veterans Day like Memorial Day is a very solemn celebration. I thought that I was over this, but I'm not.

Let me take you back to 1970. I was working at Zama hospital in Japan. I'd been transferred there from Madigan Army Medical Center on what was then called a levy. Groups of soldiers from various commands meeting a particular criterion were selected for a particular assignment. The Army was looking for personnel, particularly medics, who had not yet had an overseas assignment and I was one of very few of my rank who had not been overseas. I was sent to the Zama, Japan, to work as a nurse there. A couple years before I arrived, the hospital had been expanded from a dispensary in response to the 1968 Tet offensive in Vietnam.  So from the time of my arrival in August 1970 until the following January, staffing was so thin that we were working 12 hours a day seven days a week. During that time I was working as the second shift charge nurse on a ward dedicated to head and neck surgery. One of the patients on my ward had been transferred from the psychiatric ward. He became unruly sometime after midnight and I attempted to call for the assistance of the nursing supervisor we affectionately referred to as the "ramp tramp." During that call I was hit several times on the left side of my head. Luckily the "ramp trmp" heard the commotion over the phone and came running to the ward. Because I'd been hit with, as it was discovered later, the receiver of the phone, a skull series was done which was followed by a brain scan. The tentative diagnosis put me on the medevac flight to the states. And in doing that, I left my many friends and fellow workers, my buddies, at Zama hospital.

I think that many who have been in the military will tell you that they do what they do not out of patriotic fervor, but for their buddies. So now I was leaving mine behind. I'd already lost one of my friends, who I had gone to school with in San Antonio, to the war in Vietnam. Now I was leaving a whole group of buddies behind. What followed and found me in the stateside hospital I had been admitted to were stories of a wholesale transfer of medics from Japan to Vietnam. Those stories were followed by others about the death and mutilation of my buddies while they were in Vietnam. Simply stated I felt guilty. I had abandoned them. So it is that now I can't watch Veterans Day or Memorial Day celebrations without a great amount of emotion.

I served, but please don't shake my hand. Soldiers don't like war, but they will defend their buddies to ensure that war does not find their doorstep.

There must be a better word than "solemn." 

Who am I anyway?

I guess we all know that all these little questionnaires on Facebook about intelligence, trivia knowledge, etc., are biased by the very fact that they are written by a human and that the evaluation program is written by human with biases. So do I know who I am? Well enough I think. My opinion is I don't need someone or something telling me what I already know.

I was going to say that I use Facebook to keep up with people. But then I thought, "Maybe what folks are trying to do with these inane questionnaires is to reveal to us, the viewers/readers, who they think they are." If that's the case, perhaps I should pay more attention. But that's as far as it will go. I'll know that you're 65% Girly or that you're a Disco Diva or whatever. However, I contend that if you want to know who I am, come see me or I will try to get to where you are. Fortunately some of this has already happened. I've been able, through the medium of Facebook, to set up a couple face-to-face meetings.

Personal conversations are so under rated. Or maybe I'm wrong. Is there a questionnaire for that?

Something I read...

Let Me Be Sad
by Emma Lou Thayne

Now let me feel sad. Impulse, trained in gladness,
Do not try to whisk me away from grief
Like a child caught sulking in a corner
Immobilized by imagined hurt.

Instead, let me grow rich with my sadness.
Let it mellow and strengthen my joy,
Take bold hold of my will,
Give tears permission to water the parch of loss.

Let its music ripple my spine.
Let me give ardent ear.
To what was, to what never will be.
Grief, be my companion enjoy.

In the numberless calls acquainting me with the Night
Bring me to my senses, numberless too
In abandoning numbness and the faint iridescence
Of busyness, crowds, brief entertainments.

Like walking into a sea, only in depth can I float.
Depth, too often feared for its power
To raise me footloose and struggling
Is all that can gentle me back to shore:

Safe, breathing in the cosmos of the sweet unknown
Full of the Light and having been sad.

Just a Question for Thought...

Religion: sometimes defined as a pursuit or interest to which someone ascribes supreme importance. To a physicist or biologist then, science is their religion. If that is true, how can we accept in our society the exclusion of any other religion in favor of the theories and postulates of the religion of science?

Where Do We Stand...

Some time ago I wrote:

"I assert my right as a citizen of the United States to claim the privilege of worshiping according to my conscience and would allow all the same right, that all may worship according to the dictates of their own conscience, that all may worship what, where, and how they wish. I claim this right and privilege to be given me by the creator and that it is guaranteed by the first amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America and is thereby guaranteed to me as a citizen of this nation. Two clauses in the first amendment guarantee freedom of religion (the establishment clause and the free exercise clause.) The free exercise clause prohibits the government from interfering with a person's practice of their religion. And by that I'm guaranteed that my government will not institute any law denying me that right. And by inference does not allow another citizen or group of citizens to deny me that right."

This topic has been on my mind quite a bit recently, so I went back to some of my books - and one specifically more than the others. The title - Thoughts… for one hundred days as heard on radio by essayist, author and LDS Church leader, Richard L. Evans. One hundred essays or homilies taken from the Mormon Tabernacle choirs weekly program Music and the Spoken Word. Since its inception in 1929, the "spoken word" segment of the program has been voiced by three separate individuals. Evans was the original writer, producer, and announcer of the spoken portion of the broadcast. Here are the two essays I've read recently and I feel are pertinent to my stated position above.

First:

"Sometime ago someone coined the phrase 'tolerance without compromise,' which would seem to deserve further comment. To be tolerant of others it is not necessary to partake of their beliefs or of their manner of living. In fact, one may be tolerant of another and still vigorously oppose everything he represents, yet grant him his right to represent it.

"Tolerance does not imply that we must get on the bandwagon, that we must think or act with the majority, or that we must compromise our sincere convictions. It merely means recognition of the fact that society is complex, that no two people hold the same views on all questions, and that all of us have our own right to think and believe and live as we choose, insofar as we may do so without infringing upon these same rights where others are concerned.

"In many places tolerance is dead. In many places he who opposes the prevailing mind and will, even in his thoughts is in jeopardy of dire consequences. And it is natural that tolerance should have died in such places because tolerance travels hand-in-hand with freedom, and neither can long survive the other. But where tolerance still lives, even though a man oppose prevailing opinion, tolerance would respect his right to do so, even as liberty would demand it.

"Long ago the Savior of mankind gave us the key to tolerance without compromise when he thanked his Father in Heaven for certain of His followers who had remained in the world but were not of the world. Sometimes our young people, and others among us, make the mistake of supposing that tolerance means that we must do things that others do, that we must be partakers of their ways. They who suppose this have failed to learn one of the greatest of life's lessons: that a man may be tolerant without compromising himself or his own traditions or background or beliefs or convictions or habits of life. Tolerance without compromising truth or sound principles or fundamentals is one of the great needs of this hour."

Then I read this:

"Among the ancient Athenians it is said that Solon invoke the law that penalized people who refused to take sides on disputed principles and public problems. It was his conviction that a person should commit himself to one side or the other in any question of serious consequence instead of standing by in idle indifference.

"It sometimes seems so safe, so comfortable to stand by and say, 'I am neutral. I won't take sides. I can't be bothered. I'll wait and see what happens.' But in a sense there is no such thing as neutrality when one stands in the midst of something that should be done, and no such thing as justifiable indifference in the presence of any important issue or in the preservation of any of important principle. Indeed, indifference may be a great source of comfort and encouragement to evil and excess.

"When a man wants to do something he shouldn't do, often he doesn't need or want our active assistance. All he may need to know is that we won't actively interfere. If he wants to steal, if he wants to do violence, if he wants to defraud or defy the law, he may only need to know that we shall be indifferent to what he is doing. And in such circumstances indifference may amount to active assistance. If a person doesn't sustain the law, he is, in a sense, against it. If he doesn't help the innocent, he is, in a sense assisting the guilty. If he closes his eyes to public or private perfidy, he is doing his part to make such perfidy possible.

"John the Divine indicted indifference in these words: 'I know thy works that thou art neither cold or hot: I would that thou wert cold or hot.' (New Testament, Rev. 3:15)  Where a principle is at issue, those who weakly watch and offer no assistance to either side have no part with the valiant, no part either with the victor or the vanquished. They are victims of their own evasion, not quite daring to do right nor quite wanting to do wrong. To be indifferent to error or to any evil is to give great comfort and encouragement to error and evil. And in such circumstances indifference is not neutrality. In such circumstances indifference is an active evil."

I believe these two essays stand well together and attest my views.

The Cyborg

Well I guess it's about time that I let you know what I've been doing. Or to be more exact what I haven't been doing. I haven't been on the trainer. Though I miss the bike, the vascular neurologist, or whatever his title is, thought it best that I stay off the trainer for the two weeks that I'd have my cyborg device – EKG recorder – attached to my chest. Tuesday afternoon of this week I did a "Jean Luc" and essentially ripped the thing off my chest so we could box up the thing and send it to some lab in San Francisco. Admittedly, it was a slow rip. I did however have quite a strange collection of little red things on my chest that resembled blood blisters. And with that I left the ranks of the cyborg only to join them again the next day. Wednesday, September 3, 2014. The day I got my hearing aids. I am officially an old man. A gray-haired cyborg. I haven't started watching the sky for flying cubes yet however.

I kept myself busy this past week – well, at least one afternoon – studying the derivation of formulas to calculate the area and volume of a sphere. It involved a lot of geometry and algebra. I rejected the examples that included cutting a ball in half and pouring sand into it and emptying that into a cylinder of equal height and diameter of the sphere in question. I finally settled on this guy's excellent, well almost excellent, demonstration.  //www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/6EzQEdBX_30?rel=0  and  //www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/xuPl_8o_j7k?rel=0    I must've been really bored, huh?

During these last two weeks I also read some intern' s "book report" on an article he read about including spin cycles as part of physical therapy for recovering stroke victims. Basically his critique was that it didn't make much difference in recovery and only slightly better when included with weight training. This guy's probably never been on a bike and if he has, the bike probably was a fat tired Schwinn when he was age six or seven. Although it may not make much difference in my recovery time, I really like being on the bike. So much for experts.

Like to know more? Come see me.

That's all I got for this week.

How Hard Is It?

Have you ever wondered what those numbers on the Tour de France profiles are all about? I mean the ones at the top of the climbs. We know they indicate the difficulty, but just how did they or do they decide what number to put on the climb? Here's a category decoder I found in Bicycling magazine and thought I'd share with you.

According to European cycling tradition, climbs fall into four categories based on their difficulty; a fifth, "hors categorie" (above category), is reserved for the most difficult routes. Here's the breakdown:

CAT 4: These easier climbs have average grades of 2 to 3 percent over 3 miles, or up to 5 percent for climbs shorter than a mile;

CAT 3: Climbs with grades that average less than 5 percent over 6 miles or much shorter ascents up to 10 percent;

CAT 2: Ascents up to 4 percent over 9 miles or with an 8-percent grade over 3 miles;

CAT 1: Climbs up to 12 miles long at 5 percent or 5-mile pitches at up to 8 percent;

HORS CATEGORIE: Average grades of 7 percent over at least 6 miles or 6-percent grades that span 15 miles or more

Recent Activity

DATE                                6-Aug-14      16-Aug-14          19-Aug-14

Duration (min)                 0:15:04           0:15:04               0:15:04

Distance (km)                   6.818               5.7                       7.125

Ave Power                        142                  116                       150

Ave Speed (kph)             27.1               23.1                       28.1

Ave Heart Rate (bpm)      115                98                        110

Performance                    1.23                1.18                       *

Elev Gain                          0                     0                            0

Difficulty (%)                   80                   80                          100

Completed (%)                 59                  50                          50

* Why is this blank? Well, my lovely computer that is attached to the trainer decided it needed to restart about 30 seconds from the end of my training ride. So the other numbers for today are pretty well what I remember but Kathy had taken a picture of the screen a minute or so earlier. So I extrapolated. Except for this one, which I don't know how it is calculated. So I guess you have to take the whole thing with a grain of salt. I do think that I have improved over 16 August.

I'm my own rabbit. I have a pretty good idea what I did last time and try to beat those numbers. And I remember thinking "I'm doing better." So the numbers are pretty close.

The numbers on the 16^th reflect a discussion I had with my neurologist. Well, actually the arterial neurologist, if that's a title. Since I've been actively seeing the neurologist, the question has been "why did I have a clot that caused a stroke? Where did it come from?" As I remember our discussion, most often clots come from one of two places. A tear in an artery or atrial fibrillation. They haven't been able to see evidence of any tears, so they think is atrial fibrillation. Tomorrow I go in to get some sort of the device that records my heart activity - a transportable EKG in a plastic sticker. If it proves that I have atrial fibrillation, the way that they would deal with it would be anticoagulant therapy. Big problem. I've got an AVM in my brain. Not a good idea to give anticoagulant therapy of the nature that they intend for arterial fibrillation to a person with that type of AVM.

So what to do? Doc says, "have you thought of gamma knife? I'd thought of it because I'd heard of it. And because of my history and what I'd been told before, I'd dismissed it. He wants me to think about it. I don't want to. What I've been told in the past is any type of surgery would leave me severely weakened on my right side or paralyzed on my right side. I'm already severely weakened on my left side. I don't want to add the right to it.

My first thought after our discussion was "I'm scared!" Then I thought, "I've had a good run. This is probably a good time to get a Do-Not-Resuscitate."

I'll keep doing what I've been doing, but it will be with a little bit higher risk. Not that this conversations or this decision is the last one. We'll have a lot more serious conversations. The doc and me.

So that's my report for this week. Talk at you later.

Regarding my decision…

Again, this was the same flat, distance driven, training exercise on an realaxiom trainer. I did the same course with a little bit of improvement.

                              August 6, 2014        August 4, 2014        July 28, 2014
Duration:                15: 04 min              15: 04 min              32: 59 min
Distance:                6.818 km                6.429 km                11.5 km
Average Power:      142                        133                         103
Average speed        27.1 kph                25.6 kph                 20.9 kph
Avg. heart rate:       115 bpm                115 bpm                 115 bpm
Performance:          1.23                       1.16                        0.9
Elevation gain:         0                           0                             0
Difficulty:               80%                       80%                        60%
Completion:            59%                       56%                       100%

So I guess I'll be doing this whenever I feel like it.

Quite a challenge...

I've heard a lot of talk about term limits for members of Congress. But how would that be accomplished? I had to admit to myself that I did not know how or if something desired by the citizenry of the United States but lacking in law could be put to the vote of the people. A national initiative process does not exist. We would need an amendment to the Constitution. Article V of the U.S. Constitution outlines how that is done. I found out that:

Congress could take on the legislation. Once passed the House and the Senate, the President could sign it into law.

OR

The legislatures of at least two-thirds of the states can call a national convention.

The amendment would then need to be ratified by either the legislatures or ratifying conventions of three-fourths of the states to become part of the Constitution. And that would be determined by Congress.

Yes , the legislatures of THREE FOURTHS of the states or THREE FOURTHS of state ratifying conventions. The method to be determined by members of Congress.

The problem that I see is that in order to limit the number of terms a member of Congress may be elected to, we have to rely on members of Congress to write a bill limiting their access to serve in Congress and all the perks that come with it. Can we really expect that to happen? Can we rely on the altruistic nature (if it exists) of members of Congress?

I know that there are those that are engaged in trying to make this (term limits) happen. And I salute them for their devotion to this quixotic challenge. Saluting as easy. But do I have the resolve to join their ranks? That's quite a challenge.

What I thought this morning…

I woke up this morning and thought "I want to get on my bike on the trainer." Then I remembered what I had written earlier. That I was going to work on the trainer each Monday. That meant I would have to forgo today's workout. However, at breakfast Kathy read me the article entitled "What is Neural Plasticity?" by Lucy Lazarony written on Jul 31 2014.

Here it is in its entirety (in italics) with some of my sometimes snide side remarks:

Look at your rehab program in a whole new way by understanding neural plasticity.

As a result of a stroke, connections in the brain, also called neural pathways, may be damaged. And this damage may interrupt the normal flow of signals within the brain and between the brain and other parts of the body.

Neural plasticity occurs when a new neural pathway can be established or an unused connection in the brain can be activated.

“Parts of the brain can re-connect or another part of the brain can take over the function of the parts that are damaged,” explains Dr. Richard Senelick, author of Living with Stroke: A Guide for Families. “It takes practice.”

Practice Means Rehab  (and I would add "Rehab means Practice" or do it over and over, again and again. But don't do it so aggressively that it causes injury. Especially to the unaffected side. Been there before.)

“What drives the brain to re-connect, what drives other parts of the brain to take over the function, is deliberate practice. Dose matters,” Senelick says. “The amount of repetition, the amount of therapy drives the brain repair.”

When it comes to repairing damage after a stroke, early rehab is key, Senelick says. (The staff at UC Davis had me attempt to walk the third day after surgery. I was a shoo-in for the Ministry of Silly Walks, but I was trying.)

“The earlier the better with rehab,” Senelick says. “The key is what the family can do with a home program to continue with repetitions so you’re getting enough therapy.” (I've even had members of my family build my things to use at home that are used at PT.)

The Truth About Recovery Plateaus (The truth is: plateaus can be very depressing.)

Many stroke survivors may experience strong progress early on in their physical and occupational therapy programs.

“Early on, people tend to make more progress and then it slows down. It doesn’t mean they aren’t making progress. They have a slower rate of progress,” Senelick says. “You need to be diligent.” (My mind is always working, making predictions, for example: "if I'm this farm by now, by that month I should be able to…" Sometimes I like what I see and sometimes I don't. And when I don't I push harder, almost to the point of overdoing. Not a very good outcome. I have come to the realization that I am a ham. I like to show off. And PT gives me that opportunity. Also it adds additional physical recovery time. If you read the previous posting, I talk about that.)

And because neural plasticity can take place for years after a stroke, some stroke survivors will continue to see progress in their recoveries several years after a stroke.

“There are parts that are dying that never re-grow and parts that are damaged and by doing repetitive functional tasks it promotes re-growth,” Senelick says.

He urges stroke survivors who have hit plateaus with their current rehab program to be re-evaluated by a doctor or therapist. (I guess that's the reason my therapist sets goals and does evaluations periodically.)

“It’s important to get evaluated to find out if you have a reservoir of ability and if there is something else that can be done,” Senelick advises.

To get off a rehab plateau, it may mean beginning more aggressive types of therapy.

“Without therapy, people are self-limiting,” Senelick says. “People don’t do things that are too hard unless they are forced to.”

So I guess I'm back on the bike today. Not because it's hard or easy, but because I like being on the bike. Even if it's on the trainer.

This Week's Report

Well, here's what I failed to post last week. I've decided to get on the trainer once a week on Mondays. If I had posted numbers last week, there would be nothing to compare it with except your good numbers. I don't want to look that bad. So here we go:

This was a flat, distance driven, training exercise on an realaxiom trainer.

                              August 4, 2014       July 28, 2014
Duration:               15.04 minutes         32.59 minutes
Distance:                6.429 km                11.5 km
Average Power:      133                         103
Average speed        25.6 kph                 20.9 kph
Avg. heart rate:      115 bpm                  115 bpm
Performance:         1.16                         0.9
Elevation gain:        0                             0
Difficulty:               80%                        60%
Completion:            56%                       100%

As is apparent from the completion numbers I cut the workout in half this week. Last week a full half hour required a lot – and I mean a lot – of recovery time. Not just hours, but days. I can't afford that much time without some sort of exercise to keep me from locking up.

Also I have some good news to report on other fronts. I met and exceeded goals set for me by my physical therapist. So now we're working with more stress on balance. For example: walking without any form of support with my eyes closed. Not a lot of fun. The only thing I could think to compare this with is, oh – try hopping 40 feet on one leg with your eyes closed. Don't peak! Scary, huh?  I would suggest you doing this with knee, wrist, and elbow pads. Or someone running alongside to catch you. 

Although my left hand is still real stiff, I can almost point my index finger independent of all other fingers. And almost make a fist with my left hand without pain. On this speech front: I can talk for about 20 minutes without a too noticeable left side facial droop. And it has been discovered that I do have a severe hearing loss and qualify for hearing aids. As suggested earlier by Kathy, I'm an old man.

All in all, things are going well. And although I still get a bit down by the slow pace of recovery, I do still have it in mind to walk with Dan and Doug in October. Just have to nail down dates, times, and places. What would be really cool would be to ride the Jordan River trail on a recumbent trike. We will see.

It bears repeating...

I found this posting by willworkforadventure and felt it deserved repeating. So, for those of us who wouldn't go looking, here it is in a slightly sanitized version.

"SEVEN THINGS NON-CYCLISTS SHOULD KNOW ABOUT ROAD CYCLING

"I only got into road cycling last June when I decided to train for a triathlon, and there were a number of things that caught me by surprise. I realized that I had been utterly prejudiced at times against cyclists, and I want to share how you may be unintentionally prejudiced as well. Obviously there are some self centered cyclists that are feel entitled to the all the road, but they are in the minority. Give a cyclist the benefit of the doubt. You’ll usually be right.

"1. Road cycling is scary

"Listen. I’m not a weak, risk intolerant or ineffectual person. I’ve jumped out of an airplane. I’ve bungeed off a 20-story bridge. I’ve stepped into boxing rings and wrestling mats to train and compete in things like boxing, MMA/Ultimate Fighting, Judo, and submission grappling. I’ve hung off cliffs climbing tall peaks at altitude with a thousand feet of air underneath me, and much more. I’m a lot more risk tolerant than most people. I feel more in danger road cycling than I have in most other situations I’ve gotten myself into. I try to forget that a distracted driver texting a smiley face to a friend could kill me at any minute. It’s hard to feel safe most of the time with how most cars drive around cyclists never mind the random rager that seems to come around every month or so.

"2. If I’m not close to the very side of the road, there is a reason for it.

"As a driver, I know it can be frustrating when a cyclist is impeding your progress. It’s not just something we do on a whim. You may not see that glass, sand, gravel, or the sharp edges and potholes on the roadway, but I do and all we cyclists do. All of them could end our day pretty quickly and cause serious injury or even death. We’re constantly weighing the option, 'What is more dangerous right now: being further out into the street or staying close to the side of the road?'  The side of the road is different than the middle of it.  All water is directed there, so the majority of water damage (potholes/cracks) and debris is there. Give us time to find a safe spot to move over. Saving twenty seconds isn’t worth both our lives since I could die, and you could end up in prison.

"3. Buzzing by a cyclist is extremely dangerous.

"It’s really just a percentage game, and I hope I never win the unlucky lottery. Road obstacles may cause a cyclist to swerve unexpectedly. That could be the same exact time you are buzzing by us closely. All we are doing is trying to get a workout in and travel along the roads. Even if it annoys you that shouldn’t carry a death sentence, right? I’d hope you aren’t a sociopath and that you’d actually mind murdering somebody for cycling, so please give us a little more space when passing.

"4. Cutting off a cyclist is a imbecilic move.

"We are past the major safety hazards now and into some etiquette ones. I know you want to make that right hand turn NOW and not 5 seconds from now. I know you want to come out into the roadway NOW and not 5 seconds from now. Try to be a little courteous though.  Pressing your little footsie on your little pedal is a lot easier than braking a bike and then trying to get back up to speed.  Biking may seem like effortless cruising at times, but really it’s hard work. I used to just be a runner, and I’d see cyclists fly by and think 'sure, take the easy way out.' That’s not the case. It’s not easy at all, and it’s hard getting up to speed.  It’s akin to a runner needing to sprint all out for 20-30 seconds every time they start running from a stop. Please don’t cut us off.

"5. Getting mad at a cyclist for not obeying every traffic law is cherry picking and hypocritical.

"Admittedly this is debatable. I know that in many states, in the eyes of the law, a cyclist is like a car. That is ridiculous though. A cyclist on a 20 lbs bike isn’t the same as a driver in a 1 ton car.  There are special rules for both of us.  You get to pass us on roads with or without a solid yellow line. That’s fair. We are different than cars. For YOUR convenience, we generally ride on the very side of the road and even the shoulder when available and safe (the shoulder is technically not considered part of the road by law in most states). Again, we are different than cars and realize this. We may run through a stop sign or continue through a red light when traffic allows and it is safe. Don’t get mad at that. Some cyclists may make a poor decision on when this is 'safe' just like some drivers may make a poor decision on when it’s safe to take a right on red, when to proceed through a stop sign, when to merge through a yield sign, etc.  If you think a cyclist should obey every single car law, then would you mind if we follow your idea and ride in the middle of the lane instead of  the side of the road, and you can only pass us when you are allowed by law to pass other cars?  I didn’t think so.  I guarantee you the middle of the road is a lot better quality there.  Let’s be courteous to each other and realize our differences.

"6. Cycling clothes may look silly, but they are functional.

"Now this doesn’t include the people decked out in their cycling hero’s jersey. That’s like a guy wearing a full Celtics uniform to a pickup basketball game. The clothes themselves are very functional though. Those goofy shirts… Those tight shorts.  Those weird looking helmets. They all serve a very important function that 'normal' clothes don’t. Before I started cycling, I laughed at the clothing. When I started, I first tried not to wear the typical cycling gear. I quickly adopted it though because it just makes life so much easier and more comfortable. Try not to judge us. Oh, OK. I know that’s hard. Laugh away. Just try to keep in mind that it serves a purpose.

"7. Cycling is indeed hard work.

"I know it can look easy. You look at me and see me pedaling away, not sweating much, and not having painful grimaces on my face. Well, a constant 20 mph breeze does a lot for cooling and for drying sweat. Pedaling is hard work.  It may be because I’ve been running for so much longer, but I find cycling more strenuous on the legs than running.  Starting from a stop is like doing heavy lunges for reps, climbing long and/or steep hills is a lesson in physics (and futility), and your thighs burn on a regular basis. But yes. This is fun.”

A few thoughts about and from Joel Skousen:

Below you'll find a statement concerning the difference between rights and benefits from a man a few years younger than I am, but much wiser than my years of experience. A person I met during our early teenage years. At the time we were Boy Scouts. The most memorable day of our acquaintance was the day our group of scouts climbed Olallie Butte in central Oregon. During the course of conversation as we climbed, it became very apparent that the Skousen boys, were in command of a great deal of knowledge. Being a teenager, I suppose I felt a bit of jealousy. At the same time I knew that they were destined to achieve something great. Now looking back through the decades, I think that is quite evident. So now I share with you the adult thoughts of a person I met and respected as a young boy. These are thoughts expressed by Joel Skousen.

"The key to understanding what constitutes a true fundamental right is to focus on this essential criteria: for a right to be true, it must be non-conflicting with all others simultaneously claiming such right, and must not require that anyone else serve your needs in exercising that right.

"False Rights: There are many false rights being promulgated in today's society, mostly due to the politician's attempt to entice voters to view benefits as if they were rights. Three of the most popular are the so-called 'right' to a job, 'right' to medical care or the 'right' to an education. Let us apply these claims to the definition of a true fundamental right and see if they qualify. Remember that the main criteria that determines whether or not an action or state of being is protected as a right is whether or not all men can simultaneously possess the 'right' in question without compelling anyone to perform a service in their behalf.

"In the case of education, we cannot all receive an education without compelling someone to teach, provide the facilities, the curriculum and the books. Thus education, through others' efforts, must be a benefit based upon contractual mutual obligations, and not a right--no matter how essential it is deemed by the users thereof. On the other hand, self-education would be a right as long as no one was compelled to assist you involuntarily.

"As to the 'right' to a job, we may ask, in like manner, if all people can claim a right to a job without compelling someone to provide that job and the money for a salary. Obviously not. In reality, a job is the exclusive property of the employer who owns the money and the facilities. The labor portion of the job is the exclusive property of the laborer. The negotiations as to the rate of exchange for the owner's money and the laborer's efforts must be left to the arena of free contract. Neither has a 'right' to attach the others' property or effort--each can only voluntarily exchange what he owns for what he perceives the other offers in return.

"Medical care can never be a fundamental right, either, as it would clearly force doctors, nurses and hospital owners to become slaves to those who demand the benefit. You may think they are not slaves because they are being highly paid. But if you, the patients, are not paying, then someone else is, and that person (even if a group of taxpayers) are partially enslaved for the beneficiary's sake. Someone is always partially enslaved whenever the direct beneficiary of any service doesn't have to pay, and someone else or some group is not voluntarily paying the bill."

Want to know more about Joel?  Click on the link below or interview he gave in 2009.

http://alexansary.tv/otb-flashback-2009-alex-ansary-interviews-joel-skousen-about-future-wars/

An apology of sorts - It may take me a lifetime.

This is something I've been thinking about quite a bit lately.

A couple weeks after I got out of the hospital for the second time, an acquaintance, who was a runner and cyclist, died while on a training run. I don't really know how old he was, but I don't think he was out of his 20s. He left a widow and a five-year-old son. His widow is still working through the grieving process.

What I've learned is this:

The stages of mourning and grief are universal and are experienced by people from all walks of life.

Looking at my own situation, myself and those around me - particularly my wife: mourning may occur in response to an individual’s own illness, the loss of a close relationship, or to the death of a valued being, human or animal. There are five stages of normal grief that were first proposed by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her 1969 book “On Death and Dying.”

How does this really affect my wife. Her husband didn't die. However, I've come to realize that the person she was married is no longer in her life. He has been substituted with a person of limited abilities and altered personality. Just not the same guy.

I see my friend's widow's posts on Facebook. She's having an extremely hard time. It's very evident that she has suffered a loss. But when my own wife displays the symptoms of the grieving process, it's been hard for me to see her suffering. But I need to realize what she's been going through. I haven't  been able to understand that until recently. And since many people do not experience the stages of grieving in the order in which we see them commonly listed, the key to understanding the "why's " and "what's" of my wife's actions and activities is to understand that she too is going through the grieving process and that I need to focus more on her and less on "the me." A friend of mine essentially told me to stop feeling sorry for myself. What this person said was "You've had many, many years being able to ride in so many races. That is something I certainly could not do. You can look back on all those races and thank God for the ability He gave you to do that." In essence stop feeling sorry for yourself and focus on what's important. So I've got my marching orders.

I must also understand that in bereavement, each of us spends different lengths of time working through each step and each of us expresses the different stages with different levels of intensity. As mentioned earlier the five stages do not necessarily occur in any specific order. As individuals we often move between stages before achieving a more peaceful acceptance of loss. Many of us are not afforded the luxury of time required to achieve this final stage of grief. Katherine falls into this category.

Things her husband had once done, were suddenly forced upon her. Any attempt to help would often be seen as criticism. So I've come to realize that instead of focusing on tasks, I need to focus more on her feelings. This may seem so very elementary to most people, but to a person who is himself dealing with loss, it is not a subject easily understood. I'm just beginning to understand the smallest portion of it.

It may take me a lifetime.

  

Late Report

This was written last week: Little has changed this week. Except perhaps that I climb and descend the stairs independently. This of course has made me a bit more overconfident. That combined with impulsiveness caused a bit of a problem this past Tuesday. I was in the office and decided to leave. Instead of standing up and getting my balance, I stood up from the chair grabbed a cane and in my haste I rolled my left ankle. In doing that I was extremely off-balance and executed what I call a controlled collapse. Others would call this a fall. However, in an attempt to lessen the damage I sprained my left wrist. At least it wasn't the good one. When I saw Doctor Siler on Friday, one of the things that we discussed was a splint. He okayed that.

Another thing I have been considering is - and I invite your comments on this - acquiring a recumbent trike. I can get exercise and won't have to worry about balance. What you think? Of course I won't be on the main roads, but I'll ride around this residential area.

And this is from the current week: I'm still going to PT and OT twice a week. They both take a toll on my energy. I'm still working at getting a recumbent tricycle. There are a couple projects around the house that need to be taken care of. Those will have to be contracted out.

I still have the goal of crossing the new bridge being built by Tri-Met when it opens in September 2015. I've written to the folks at Tri-Met asking whether there's anything in particular that I need to do, but I haven't heard back from them yet. I have faith that they'll respond.

All in all, progress seems to continue to be at a snail's pace. And although people say to me such things as, "you're making such great progress," all I can see is that I don't slap my left foot when I walk until I get tired. That's about 400 feet. I can walk up and down stairs step after step, but that's if there's a right-hand banister.

One thing I am happy about (you may have realized that I'm not over the moon about my progress) is that I found a way to deal with the STP issue. I'm not sure if it's what cascade.org really wants, but it's what I'm going to do. I'll let you know later how it turns out.

That's about it for today and this week. Talk at you later.

For those who have asked...

I am now about three and a half months post event. That is, my stroke happened on the Ides of March this year. The second hospital where I was seen, UC Davis Medical Center, admitted me with a "basilar artery thrombosis".  My search of the Internet yielded the following two paragraphs:

"Acute basilar artery thrombosis is associated with a poor prognosis. However, the advent of high-quality, reliable, and noninvasive technology (eg, magnetic resonance imaging [MRI]) has made its diagnosis possible even in subjects with mild symptoms. This has illustrated that some patients have an acute partial occlusion or a slow progressive occlusion with limited ischemic injury and, therefore, a better prognosis.

"Although outcomes continue to be poor in patients with basilar artery thrombosis, advances in pharmacologic and mechanical thrombolysis and in endovascular therapy may reduce the mortality and disability rates associated with this disease. "

My discharge notes from UC Davis sounds a bit brighter. There it is stated the "patient's condition improving drastically."

At this point it might be good to get some background. How did this sudden change in my lifestyle come to be? First it should be said that I love to ride a bicycle. In fact I have six bicycles – an antique Peugeot, four road bikes, and one fat tire bike. I like sunny days in 60°F weather, but I've been known to ride in colder weather down to 18°F. What Katherine and I both enjoy is going to California - Santa Barbara County - in March of each year. There I get to ride in sunny weather. A little bit windy at times but still blue skies and warm temperatures. Kathy and I had been in Solvang, California, for two weeks. I had ridden my new bike every day. Kathy enjoyed th sun, did some volunteer work, and renewed some friendsips.  On 15 March of this year we headed for home in the Pacific Northwest after wonderful times spent with family and friends. We wanted to get to Redding, California, for the night so that we could go over the Siskiyou Mountains in daylight the next day. We didn't make it to Redding and were going to stop at a hotel in Corning, California. I got out of the car went into the hotel, checked us in, went back to the car, Kathy parked the car, and I got out to get the overnight bag. When I got out of the car to get the bag, I experienced a loud howling in my ears hundreds of times louder than the worst tinnitus I've ever had. The whole world began to swirl around me.  I remember grabbing the luggage rack on top of the car. Kathy told me to get back in the car. At first we thought was I was having a seizure. However, it was unlike any seizures I'd ever had.

About this time an employee of the hotel walked out into the parking lot. She later told Katherine, "Something told me I should go outside." As soon as Katherine saw her, Katherine told her to call 911. Within 10 minutes an ambulance was there. The EMT, George, had to decide between seizure and stroke. Fortunately he chose stroke. I was taken by ambulance to a hospital in Chico, California. At this point it seemed that the most often repeated phrase was "Time is of the essence." It was decided that because of my medical history the way that my diagnosis of stroke would have normally been treated was not available to them. And they couldn't do what I needed in that hospital. They started looking for a bed in one of the university hospitals. UC Davis responded first with an available bed. And because time was of the essence, I was flown by helicopter from Chico to Sacramento. All of this started around 8:30 Friday evening and by 12:30 Saturday morning I was in surgery.

Later that morning after the surgeons had done what they could, they told Katherine to be prepared to make some very difficult decisions. Katherine had already been on the phone with our oldest son. He was prepared to fly to Sacramento that morning. When he arrived he called local church officials who sent one of the Bishops from that area to help give me a blessing. From that point on I started making a recovery that the doctors had not been able to foresee.

I set a goal for myself to be home in the Northwest by the following Saturday. I met that goal. Goals are great, if you use them correctly. The problem with goal that I had made was that it was too short term. When I got home I'd reached that goal. I didn't have anything else in mind. I collapsed as soon as I got in the house. My second son Matthew had driven to Sacramento to help bring me home. He and Katherine decided to call 911. I was in the hospital again. 

This time it was Saint Anthony's in Gig Harbor. I stayed there for three days and then was transferred to St. Joseph's Hospital in Tacoma. I was admitted to the inpatient rehabilitation therapy unit and was there until 16 April. I got a three-week break and then started outpatient physical therapy and occupational therapy at Saint Anthony's. That brings us to the present.

I guess I'm not supposed to be walking, but I am. And last Thursday my therapist had me walking around clinic without a walker or came. I'll admit I'm very wobbly and sometimes appear to be someone who works for the Ministry of Silly Walks… But I'm walking.

I've made a goal for myself – a long-range goal this time – to cross the new bridge in Portland when it opens in September 2015. And to be on bike tires. We'll talk about a return to California then.

Monkey Wards to Tanner Springs Park

As a child I loved going to the Montgomery-Ward store on NW Vaughn Street in Portland. We called the store, "monkey wards." But it wasn't the store that we loved. It was its location. It stood downhill and across Vaughn street from the Forestry Building. It didn't take much begging and pleading for us to visit that magnificent structure. The Forestry Building. It was touted as the world's largest log cabin. Actually, it was the last remaining building of the Lewis and Clark exposition of 1905.

Wikipedia describes the exposition this way:

"The Lewis and Clark Centennial Exposition, commonly also known as the Lewis and Clark Exposition, and officially known as the Lewis and Clark Centennial American Pacific Exposition and Oriental Fair, was a worldwide exposition held in Portland, Oregon, United States in 1905 to celebrate the centennial of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. While not officially considered a World's Fair by the Bureau of International Expositions, it is often informally described as such; the exposition attracted both exhibits and visitors from around the world. During the exposition's four-month run, it attracted over 1.6 million visitors, and featured exhibits from 21 countries. Portland grew from 161,000 to 270,000 residents between 1905 and 1910, a spurt that has been attributed to the exposition"

The exposition was built on the site of Guild Lake. A lake that no longer exists. The forestry building was on the hill above and overlooking the lake.

That lake and others have been drained and filled in and are now an industrial area as well as Portland's well-known Pearl District. Tanner Springs Park in Northwest Portland is a nod to that part of Portland's history.

Yes, what is now known as the Pearl District was once a wetland and lake fed by streams that flowed down from the nearby hills in southwest Portland. These wooded hillsides provided a natural filter for the streams, cleansing the water as it made its way to the Willamette River. The springs from Tanner Creek, named for the tannery built by pioneer Daniel Lownsdale in 1845, flowed into the shallow basin of Couch Lake, now the area surrounding Tanner Springs Park. As the population of Portland grew in the late 19th century, Tanner Creek was rerouted through an underground system of pipes to the Willamette River. The lake and the surrounding wetland were eventually filled to make way for warehouses and rail yards which in turn were replaced by residences, shops, and public spaces. Today, the park sits about 20 feet above the former lake surface.

From the beginning of the planning efforts for the Pearl District in the early 1990s, the creation of a network of open spaces was an important goal of both the neighborhood and the city of Portland. In 1998, a conceptual plan for the new parks and open spaces was proposed by the Tanner Creek and Water Feature Steering Committee and approved by the Portland city council. Those recommendations served as a point of departure for planning the district's parks.

In June 1999, Peter Walker & Partners, a landscape architecture firm, was retained to provide concepts for three new parks between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues in the River District. They developed and refined plans for the parks with input from a Project Steering Committee and two public workshops. The final plan is characterized by a series of recurring elements which strengthen the connection between each of the three parks. Jamison Square was the first to be developed.

North Park Square was the working name given this second block to be developed. Planning for this park began in early 2003. Atelier Dreiseitl, a renowned German design firm, and GreenWorks, P.C., an award-winning, local landscape architecture firm, were selected to design the park. A series of community workshops were held between January and June 2003, allowing the public to participate in the design process. After committee review, the name Tanner Springs was adopted in April 2005. The springs connect the park to Tanner Creek that at one time flowed openly through this area; today it flows through large pipes beneath the city streets. Since the design of the park attempts to recapture the area's past with its native wetlands and flowing runnels, the name is fitting.
The Artwall runs along the east edge of the park. It is composed of 368 railroad tracks set on end and integrates 99 pieces of fused glass inset with images of dragonflies, spiders, amphibians, and insects. The images were hand-painted by Herbert Dreiseitl directly onto Portland glass, which was then fused and melted to achieve the final effect.

I was reading through some posts on Facebook looking for something from the family and came upon this headline: Bike rider killed in close pass on Mt. Baldy Road last Saturday with the accompanying link to the story:
http://bikinginla.com/2014/06/20/bike-rider-killed-in-close-pass-on-mt-baldy-road-last-saturday/

Mistakenly I assumed that this posting had something to do with Bald Peak north of Newberg, Oregon, where my oldest son lives.

A couple weeks ago I posted something on this blog about a ride that my son did and recorded for me to watch. We've done that before together. We've ridden it not record it. Part of what he recorded was the route used to go up Bald Peak. However, the post on Facebook deals with Mt. Baldy in Southern California. And although I've never ridden Mt. Baldy, I have ridden some beautiful areas in Southern California.

From what I read the rider in the story won't be riding again. I can somewhat identify with that. His days were stolen from him by the neglect of someone else and he will not be riding again. However, according to some people, I may be back on a bike in about a year and a quarter. His full story, or at least that part about the last few hours of his life, can be seen by clicking on the link below and then scrolling down to Saturday, June 14:

https://www.claremont-courier.com/mobile/article/t12126-crime

There you can read the following:

"A Fontana bicyclist suffered fatal injuries following a collision with a vehicle near Evey Canyon. The 77-year-old female driver was traveling southbound on Mt. Baldy Road around 7 a.m. when she attempted to pass the 59-year-old male cyclist on the left. The passenger-side mirror of the white Chevy SUV struck the cyclist, propelling the biker to the ground with a tremendous impact. Los Angeles County Fire responded to the scene and the cyclist was airlifted to USC Medical Center with severe head trauma. Although he was wearing a helmet, the cyclist’s injuries were too severe and he died at the hospital. The accident remains under investigation."

This reminds me of a fatality on Oregon state route 18 near Hebo junction during an organized ride, Reach the Beach, a couple of years ago. A 60 plus-year-old man and cancer survivor was struck by the passenger-side mirror on a Cadillac SUV as a driver of that SUV  attempted to avoid a rear end collision with the vehicle in front of him. That near-miss rear end collision was caused by the inattention of the SUV driver.

Now what I'm getting at is this, my riding days have been temporarily taken from me. I'm not going to be riding Seattle to Portland this year. I am, however, still registered to do that ride. About the same time that my riding days were cut short, an acquaintance of mine -Aaron Smeltzer - had his running and riding days permanently taken from him. And so I propose, although not actually authorized by the Cascade Bicycle Club, to dedicate my number to Aaron. I wish I could say friend, however I was not that close to him. The fault was mine.

So, if there's someone who is riding the STP and would like to carry my number as a memorial to Aaron - you'd have to have your own registration - please contact me. Then you and I would both present this dedicated number, this memorial to his widow.

Let's talk about propaganda which is a systematic effort to influence people’s opinions, to win them over to a certain view or side. We as Americans have been exposed to propaganda of various types for such a long time that the use of propaganda has crept into our everyday conversations and the posts we place on social network sites. Unfortunately, we do it without even thinking. At times those of us who have opinions attempt by coercion to persuade others - those of different opinions or those we view as having opposing or different opinions - to accept our view of things.

Often we spend so much time and effort quixotically opposing views that we forget to promote our own ideas, i.e., sell our own "product" or point of view. We become negative. Naysayers. We're viewed as people who tear down rather than those that attempt to build up. Never building, as in a positive endeavor. Demolition is easy. Construction is hard. Those who demolish leave a wasteland. Those who build or are constructive, produce an environment that we feel comfortable living in.

Edward Filene helped establish the Institute of Propaganda Analysis in 1937 to educate the American public about the nature of propaganda and how to recognize propaganda techniques. Filene and his colleagues identified the seven most common "tricks of the trade" used by successful propagandists. These seven techniques or pillars are: 1) Name Calling, 2) Glittering Generalities, 3) Transfer, 4) Testimonial, 5) Plain Folks, 6) Card Stacking, and 7) Band Wagon.

 Below you'll find listed explanations and examples of each of the seven pillars of propaganda. My challenge to you is simply to identify any that you may use in your day to day interaction with others. By this I mean as used in personal conversation or less personally as you reach out to the world electronically. Are you smashing or mending? Tearing down or building up?

 So here they are:

1) Name Calling: Negatively charged names are hurled against the opposing side or competitor, in an attempt to arouse feelings of mistrust, fear, and hate in their audiences. 

Political example: “Warmonger” “Loser” “Fence-Sitter”
Advertising example: “Foreign car” instead of “Imported”—foreign may have unpleasant connotations 

2) Glittering Generalities: Surrounding a product with attractive—and slippery—words and phrases, often too vague to define and may have different meanings to different people.

Political example: “Vote for change, vote for progress” (What kind of change? What kind of progress?)
Advertising example: “Luvs diapers” “Joy liquid detergent”

 3) Transfer: Trying to improve the image of a product by associating it with a symbol most people respect, hoping that the prestige of the symbol will carry over to the product

 Political example: Political ads with a bald eagle, stars and stripes, the national anthem playing softly
Advertising example: Exxon Valdez & Wildlife benefits

 4) Testimonial: Similar to Transfer, this technique capitalizes on the admiration people have for a celebrity to make a product more appealing

 Political example: Oprah for Obama
Advertising example: Jessica Simpson for Proactiv

 5) Plain Folks: An approach appealing to the everyday person, essentially saying, “Buy this or vote for me because I’m just like you.”

 Political example: Candidate riding a tractor or wearing a hardhat
Advertising example: “Not actors, these are real people” “1-800-ASK-GARY”

 6) Card Stacking: One side may suppress or distort evidence, tell half-truths, oversimplify the facts, or set up a “straw man”—a false target—to divert attention from the issue at hand 

Political example: “Candidate changed his mind five times”—we tend to accept the claim and do not wonder if the candidate had good reason for changing his/her mind
Advertising example: “4 out of 5 doctors agree” “A better product than most competitors”

 7) Bandwagon: Advertising peer pressure, suggesting that “Everyone’s doing it. What’s wrong with you?” People generally want to fit in, not be seen as different, be on the winning team…

 Political example: “Vote for the ‘winning’ candidate”
Advertising example: “America’s favorite…” “Most people prefer brand X over other brands…”

 If you use any of these day-to-day, be honest with yourself and admit it. Understand what you're doing and don't become overbearing. Realize that success is not a destination but a journey. And that journeys require safe havens and friendly rest stops. Be open and honest; a warm, allowing person - allowing others to assist in the journey.

And with their help, if it's only playing opposition, you'll still be able to accomplish your goals.

Here's something my son gave me. I guess as an incentive. It's a video of about 26 minutes of some of the roads we used to ride separately and together above Newberg, Oregon. It's either the camera or his riding style, but the road seems to be a lot flatter than I remember it.

Little has changed this week. Except perhaps that I climb and descend the stairs independently. This of course has made me a bit more overconfident. That combined with impulsiveness caused a bit of a problem this past Tuesday. I was in the office and decided to leave. Instead of standing up and getting my balance, I stood up from the chair grabbed a cane and in my haste I rolled my left ankle. In doing that I was extremely off-balance and executed what I call a controlled collapse. Others would call this a fall. However, in an attempt to lessen the damage I sprained my left wrist. At least it wasn't the good one. 

When I saw Doctor Siler on Friday last. One of the things that we discussed was a splint. He okayed that. Something I have been considering is - and I invite your comments on this - acquiring a recumbent trike. I can get exercise and won't have to worry about balance. What you think? Of course I won't be on the main roads, but I'll ride around this residential area.

It's about Butterflies

I sort of knew about butterflies from the time it was very, very little. It wasn't until I was married that I really understood butterflies. You see, Kathy is an amateur lepidopterist. One thing that she didn't have to teach me was that you can't help a butterfly out of its cocoon. But that's something that small children and unformed adults don't understand. Such was the case near the finish of stage 20 of the Giro d'Italia.

Francesco Bongiorno was just behind Michael Rogers, who at the moment was in first place. It appeared that Francesco Bongiorno was about to challenge Michael Rogers. However a well-meaning fan decided that Bongiorno deserved a friendly push. That friendly push disrupted Bongiorno's rhythm and balance causing him to unclip, put his foot down, and lose time to Michael Rogers. What could've been a first-place finish became a third place finish.

I can identify with Francesco Bongiorno. There are things that I can and cannot do. But I need to learn to do the things that I can't. Doing them for me does not help me. So it may seem a bit cold or hardhearted when someone refuses to do things for me, it is actually a more loving gesture. Just the opposite. Unless I learn to do a particular thing by myself, I remain disabled in that regard.

Although Katherine is a very loving person, at first she wanted to do everything for me and still wanted me to progress physically. Unfortunately, both could not happen. Now she lovingly lets me struggle on by my myself. So, like the butterfly that takes hours to expand its wings, I will take months to metaphorically expand mine.

IT'S A CIRCUS

Naval Admiral William H. McRaven returned to his alma mater, University of Texas at Austin, last week and spoke to the graduates with lessons he learned from his basic SEAL training and challenging them to change the world.

Here’s a portion of his commencement address as reported in Business Insider:

"Every day during training you were challenged with multiple physical events—long runs, long swims, obstacle courses, hours of calisthenics—something designed to test your mettle.

"Every event had standards—times you had to meet. If you failed to meet those standards your name was posted on a list and at the end of the day those on the list were invited to—a 'circus.'

"A circus was two hours of additional calisthenics—designed to wear you down, to break your spirit, to force you to quit.

"No one wanted a circus.

"A circus meant that for that day you didn’t measure up. A circus meant more fatigue—and more fatigue meant that the following day would be more difficult—and more circuses were likely.

"But at some time during SEAL training, everyone—everyone—made the circus list.

"But an interesting thing happened to those who were constantly on the list. Over time those students-—who did two hours of extra calisthenics—got stronger and stronger.

"The pain of the circuses built inner strength-built physical resiliency.

"Life is filled with circuses.

"You will fail. You will likely fail often. It will be painful. It will be discouraging. At times it will test you to your very core.

So lesson number five can be summed up as …if you want to change the world, don’t be afraid of the circuses.

I think I'll start calling rehab "the circus."

I'll never be a SEAL, but someday I want to be a cyclist again. I need the circus.

New Day

Well, today is therapy day or rehab day. You know how I feel about that. I've got until sometime this afternoon – I forgot the time – to think about it.

For those of you who are following this: you'll find that recovery from a stroke is like watching a snail race. Not much happens until you look away and then you will of see some progress. Not much, but some. It'll be like yesterday: I couldn't touch my thumb to my little finger but today I can. So my progress won't be evident in great leaps and bounds but by tiny, tiny differences. That's what can be very frustrating to me at times.
On Tuesday between therapy sessions I was watching the birds fly to and from the feeder just outside the windows of the clinic. I thought, "what happens to animals if they have a stroke? How blessed am I to be able to have trained therapists, nurses and physicians taking care of me?"
I generally talk to the blog early in the day, so this may or may not be the only time that I post something on the blog. However, I should say at this point, "I better go eat breakfast." That means that my new found stairclimbing or descending ability will be put into practice.

Talk at you later.

The Start of Something New

Today is Wednesday, 28 May. Yesterday was a rehab day. "Rehab day" describes a day that challenges my abilities. It also is a time that teaches me how to strengthen the muscles that I'm going to have to use. It is also a source of discomfort and fatigue. I realize that something has to be done, however, I wish there were a way around. I realize also that if I don't do the work, I'll never be on the bike again. I can't see my life without that freedom. I have noticed that go up and down the stairs by myself, but walking outside to something that I don't relish doing. I did go to church on Sunday but only stayed for one hour. My goal for next Sunday is to stay until noon. Also, yesterday Kathy went and bought a new big wheeled walker. That might help in getting around outside. Here's crossing my fingers. Well that's all I have to report today. I'll talk at you again tomorrow.