Saturday, December 27, 2008

Perfect Three-point Landing

Christmas brought many joys, including the gift of roller skates for Dennis and in-line skates for me. Ten years ago, Dennis nearly broke his wrist during a fall with in-line skates even while wearing wrist guards. So he returned to the familiar, conventional roller skates with four wheels in a rectangular pattern and good brakes on the toe of each boot. My in-line skates were worn out and given away during last year's garage sale. The new ones seem very high-tech, more like a ski boot, for far less money than the original pair. Along with the skates, each of us received protective gear for knees, elbows and wrists. This essential equipment protects joints during the inevitable fall.

We live near a series of paved public trails which interconnect from Diablo Valley College to the foothills of Mount Diablo itself. The segments nearest our home run along a canal, and many people enjoy the trail on foot, bicycle, skates, or walking their dogs. Roman joined us for our first outing on the trail. I kept him on my left side as I gently accelerated. Roman began to trot, and he looked up at me as if to say, "Finally!" We covered about 1/4 mile before arriving at a cross street. Deciding to turn around, I braked and then turned toward the edge of the paving to allow joggers to pass me and continue on their way.

In that instant of losing concentration, I leaned backward too far and began the frantic whoops dance. This is the well-known dance lacking grace or poise during which your feet attempt to regain traction, but instead you appear to be a clumsy Rockette making rapid, partial kicks toward the sky until you are truly airborne. In that brief instant where none of your appendages are touching the earth, the reality of "I'm going to fall...hard!" dawns on the one brain cell not trying to regain secure footing.

When single-wing fixed-wheel aircraft make a perfect three-point landing, the nose gear tire and two tires under the fuselage touch the ground at the same time. My three-point landing involved the simultaneous impact of both elbows and my butt on the asphalt. Wump! The protective gear worked as designed, and instead of pain I felt some relief that the first fall was out of the way.

As I skated back toward Dennis, Roman towed me at a fairly good clip. I think his Bernese Mountain Dog genes kicked in, and he might become a great draught animal after all. Instead of a beer wagon, he can pull me. We will both lose some weight!

Happy New Year!

P.S. Dennis did not fall at all. He is far more stable on roller skates than I am on in-line skates. Still, we each like our respective choices and look forward to longer outings in the future.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Tails of Thanksgiving

Roman didn't know how to play when he joined our pack. We attempted to interest him in various doggie devices, balls, squeaky things and tug toys. Unless food was involved, toys evoked very little response.

Our neighbor, David, generously gave Roman an octopus-like toy made of tough fire hose with two squeezy spheres for a body. Something Dennis did with his hands animated the toy and Roman became very interested in chasing it, even throwing it in the air and catching it by himself. A surefire pleaser is the "shake-your-head-and-break-its-neck" motion that is instinctive for most predators. Judging by the wagging tail, Roman really enjoyed this romp.

On Thanksgiving Day while the Diestel Turkey (Henrietta) was in the oven, we played outside in the autumn leaves. This video is Roman's Thanksgiving Tail.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Scotchguarding for Dogs

What are you looking at?


Roman basking in the winter sun after a bath


One day in the dog park I met Joey, a magnificent Newfoundland with fur that felt unlike any dog I had ever handled. Joey's human told me about "Show Sheen", a spray-on coat conditioner used for horses but safe for dogs. Joey's human went on to explain that he had shown dogs for years and the conditioner kept dogs cleaner longer because it was a sort of Teflon coating for the individual fur fibers. So apparently dirt just falls off. When he ran, Joey's coat flowed as if animated, glistening in the sun and rippling in the breeze.


Roman likes to lie down in wet grass, leaves, dirt, the driveway...nearly anywhere that affords him a view of what is going on. So keeping him clean longer between baths is a great objective. In the photo above, he chose to dry out after a bath in the truck bed where he could view the comings and goings of all three households on the driveway. As he dried, I lightly squirted the Show Sheen on him, then brushed and brushed, and brushed some more. The loose fur and undercoat could have filled a paper grocery bag. In the Spring, I've see Robins and other birds with beaks full of his fur to line their nests. If any birds are in the area this winter, they will have the cleanest, dirt-resistant abodes in nature's aviary.


It's tough to get a photo of Roman's eyes. One is brown, and the other is "marbled": half blue and half brown. After I explained the marbled eye to one little girl who inquired about the color, she asked me, "Is his eye made of glass?" Maybe I have poor diction, or perhaps the concept was a stretch for her, but I assured her that his eye is a real eye and he can see out of it. It just looks like a marble.


So the Scotchguarding really works. Compare Roman's coat in the photos above to the condition he was in the day we adopted him in March. The video below captures Roman's first meal with us, and judging by his appetite, he knew what it was to go without. Dinnertime is a time of great joy!


(turn your speakers on to really get the sense of his meal)

Sunday, December 21, 2008

The Path Not Taken

San Francisco Conservatory Recital Hall




Playing piano has been a joy all of my life, though now as arthritis begins to swell my finger joints, the days of performing publicly may be coming to an end. Still, I will play as I am able to enjoy the satisfaction of making music, expressing myself through the beauty of others' composition.



While in highschool in Bruxelles, Belgium, I had to decide whether to follow the traditional route to college, or take a chance on going to Conservatory. As a junior, I was the accompanist for The Fantasticks which was a great deal of fun. The musical is usually performed in a theater-in-the-round setting with the audience very close to the action, and the pianist and drummer are actually on stage behind the actors. Our cast was invited to the Arts Festival in Paris (1973) where International schools from all over Europe brought their best choirs, plays and other musicians. Our performance won the coveted "Command Performance" designation, the highest honor we could have dreamt of. I briefly considered Conservatory, but opted instead to become an engineer for my vocation, retaining music and piano as my passion.



Over the years I have played for many choirs and 2nd tier orchestras. I have performed at fund raisers and cocktail parties. But the most satisfying musical experiences have always been weddings. Last October I received a call from Richard, Bill, Marc and Denny, asking me if I would play at their dual wedding ceremony strategically set for November 1st before the outcome of the election would be known. I was so deeply touched that they would ask me, especially when they have access to pianists who are far more accomplished than I am. Of course I said "yes".



Playing in a recital hall is a very unique experience because the space is designed acoustically to reveal all the musical detail the artist can muster. An added joy was to be playing a Steinway D which is a 9 foot long concert grand piano. The particular instrument I played was made in Hamburg, Germany (the other factory is in Queens, New York). Words fail to describe the sensational experience of playing an instrument as close to perfection as humanly possible. The piano did exactly what I wanted it to do, and together we wove a musical context for the dignified, loving and spiritual wedding experienced by the two couples and all those in attendance.



To these wonderful men who let me use my gifts to celebrate their special day, I thank you from my entire being!

Saturday, December 20, 2008

I love my Shiver 750, but not Cinderella



I am intrigued by good design no matter the device. When I saw the Aprilia Shiver 750, I was captivated by the uniqueness of the design, from minimalist truss frame to triangular exhaust pipes. Pictured on the right the day I took delivery, it is outfitted with tank and tail bags to carry whatevery I please as I ride. Normally, I ride with just the tail bag when I commute to work. This style of motorcycle is called "a naked bike" because it lacks the faring which is commonly used to protect the rider from wind.

Before buying the bike, I took the CHP approved motorcycle safety course to ensure that my reflexes and balance were up to the task. Passing the course results in a certificate that not only allows you to waive the DMV testing, but it also saved a significant amount on the insurance. Probably for safety reasons, the training course is done on relatively small bikes, only 250cc displacement, a sort of VW Beetle in the motorcycle world. By comparison, the Shiver is a Porche, ready to accelerate in a heartbeat to any speed you can manage.

The Shiver 750cc is a remarkably powerful and lightweight bike: 95 horsepower at the crank, and only 415 lbs wet. I took delivery after waiting nearly 4 months for the first shipment of Shivers to arrive in the USA from Italy. The sea-going cargo passed through customs in Georgia, and then my bike (among the first in California) was trucked to the dealership in Livermore. Because I was not familiar with how the bike would handle, I chose not to take the Freeway home. While it would have been the most direct route, it would have required driving over 70 mph just to blend in with the aggressive traffic on Hwy 580 and Hwy 680.

Taking the back roads through a rural valley toward the city of Danville, I was having a wonderful low-speed adventure. New brakes are "grabby", so I was learning how to brake with just one finger on the lever when I encountered an unanticipated obstacle to my journey. Arriving at a T-intersection and planning to turn left toward Danville, I saw what appeared to be hundreds of women on bicycles dressed in various costumes. Most included some form of a tutu, petticoat, sparkly leg warmers, ball gowns and even gaudy costume jewelry. Some of the women had what appeared to be magic wands. This event turned out to be the annual "Cinderella Ride", and I was the only motorized vehicle in the mix.

The road was narrow, no bike lanes or shoulders to speak of. So the bicycles were occupying the paved lane where automobiles would normally travel. Many of the women were riding two or three abreast, deep in conversation and oblivious to my presence. For safety, I turned on my emergency flashers and drove about 15 mph or less beside them traveling in the same direction. I did not use my horn for fear of upsetting one of these magical storybook characters who might have turned me into a mouse, or a newt, or something equally inconvenient.

As I passed small groups of them, I think they perceived me to be an escort of sorts. This was an acceptable arrangement, though I was mindful that every blind corner could have produced an unintended collision. At one point, we did see EMTs and an ambulance administering to a heap of Cinderellas who had apparently lost control on the abrupt edge of the pavement and tangled with the barbed wire fences mere feet away. I did not count the number involved, instead remaining focused on not having a collision of my own.

Eventually, we reached Danville where the road opened up into 4 lanes with proper bike lanes for the Cinderellas who had made it that far. I exhaled for the first time in many miles. Suddenly, the freeway didn't seem nearly as dangerous as what I had just been through. I took the northbound on-ramp and found that in 3rd gear I can accelerate from 30 mph to 80 mph in just a few seconds. Quickly shifting up into 4th, 5th, and finally 6th gear, I settled in to cruise mode behind an 18-wheeler car carrying truck. I knew no automobile driver would want to be behind that truck, so my strategy was to follow the truck until I reached my exit. This plan worked perfectly, and I arrived home with my new Shiver, grateful for the experience.

Blessing of the Animals

Roman Excelling at Relaxing



Sunrise At the Overlook, Paso Nogal Dog Park

On October 5, we attended our first Blessing of the Animals and commemoration of the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi. I have enjoyed being in the company of dogs all my life, but I had never participated in a blessing ceremony before even though I know dogs are creatures of Spirit. So Roman, Dennis and I drove over to the beautiful garden chapel at noon. While any "pet" or animal is welcome, it turned out that only dogs and their human companions showed up.


A delightful variety of dogs attended: Trudi, an elderly Rottweiler with a sweet disposition, a beagle who could only follow his nose, a beautiful chocolate lab just full of energy, a King Charles Spaniel who was very affectionate, and other breeds with no two alike. While I was greeting the other dogs, Roman who is very fond of children managed to herd them into a small cluster in the center of the clearing. They giggled and laughed as he wagged his tail, circling them to keep the pack together.



When the priests began the service, the humans and dogs all sat in a circle. Roman tends to be very casual and comfortable among people, so he chose to lie on his back with one paw extended to the blue sky above him. Normally this invokes a belly rub; however, in this case, he was content just to be peaceful between Dennis and me. All the other dogs sat obediently, awaiting their gentle sprinkle of blessed water delivered with a branch. The Lab was the only dog who wanted seconds on the water.



The blessing which we all read aloud had some profoundly beautiful language:



O Supreme Spirit of Creation

from your sacred breath came forth

birds and beasts, fish and fowl,

creatures of such variety and beauty

that we are continually amazed at Your divine imagination.

These children of yours

have been blessed by You, their Creator

with simplicity, beauty, and a cosmic purpose.

...May we now bless these animals

by taking delight in their beauty and naturalness.

May we bless these animals with a Noah-like protection

from all that might harm them.

May we, like Adam and Eve,

speak to these creatures of Yours

with kindness and affection,

reverencing their lives and purpose

in our communal creation.

May we never treat them as dumb animals,

but rather let us seek to learn their secret language

and to be students of all the secrets that they know.

May your abundant blessing rest upon these creatures

who are our companion in the journey of life. Amen.



God and Technology


I bought an Italian street bike in April ostensibly for commuting, but also to experience the freedom I knew as a younger man riding a motorcycle in Belgium. I'll extole the virtues of the Aprilia motorcycle (a.k.a. "Ma Moto") in another post because the bike merits its own short article. The point of this story is how God speaks to me while I'm riding. No joke...well, maybe.



I have a GPS on the motorcycle in case I need directions to the nearest In-'n-Out Burger, or to explore routes on unfamiliar back country roads. For safety, the GPS communicates with speakers in my helmet using Bluetooth technolgy, just like a cell phone. The lack of wires is a huge bonus, and being able to keep my eyes on the road and traffic while listening to directions from the GPS is very safe and reliable. The GPS also plays MP3 files, so I can listen to music or downloaded Podcasts while I ride. The remarkable feature is that when the GPS needs to provide a direction, such as "In 500 feet, turn Left on Contra Costa Boulevard" it temporarily suspends the MP3 file, delivers the instruction and resumes the MP3 file.

So one Sunday I was riding to church and even though I know the way by heart, I put the destination in to see whether the GPS would recommend a different route. I was also listening to an MP3 file from Pray-as-you-go, a website which provides a daily inspirational recording including short scripture, music from all over the world, and thoughtful reflection. Visit  www.pray-as-you-go.org
 
I was enjoying the beautiful sunny morning heading to the 8am service along my normal route. As I neared the highway the MP3 file reached an important part of the scripture only to be interrupted by the GPS. This is what I heard:


"Jesus entered the temple, looked around and said....Take ramp on right, to Highway 24 West!"


I nearly drove off the road laughing inside my helmet! The timing could not have been more perfect.

Yes, God knew where I was at that instant, and He saw me safely to church and home again.