Ride Like the Wind, Die Like an Idiot.

      Sunday morning is bowling morning.  R., the kids and I try to go every week.  This past weekend the girls were at their moms, so I had to pick them up on the way to the alley.

     Well, I like bike riding as much as the next person, maybe even more so.  It is one sport that you really can’t screw up at.  It’s like walking with pedals on your feet and thanks to almost 200 year old technology; gears spin, wheels move and forward momentum is obtained.  At least, I thought you couldn’t screw it up.  I was proven wrong. 

     On the way to pick up the kids, a swarm of people on bikes invaded the roads.  It was a bizarre group, of about 50 differently dressed riders.  None of them understood the bike laws of NJ or cared about their lives.  The fact they were wearing helmets was ironic, as falling on their heads may have actually improved their intelligence.   Swerving in and out of traffic on a 45mph. road, they brazenly made left turns against traffic like guppies floundering through a school of sharks.

     As I turned down the road to pick up the kids, I figured I would lose them.  That worked until I got back on the main road and a trailing group of riders had caused a seven car deep and growing traffic jam. Someone didn’t get the memo that you can only ride two abreast and only if it doesn’t impede traffic.  As we got to a traffic light, they had all huddled together in a mass of spandex, helmets, stupidity and gears.  When the light turned green, they were too busy talking, so I honked the horn.

The guppies woke up annoyed and started to give me a dirty look.  I mouthed out, “Side of the road” as I cut harshly around them to avoid oncoming traffic. I decided to change my route as I saw an idiot induced traffic jam further ahead.

     I try not to wish harm on anyone but if one of those bikers accidentally ran into another one causing a chain reaction of face falls into the pavement, I definitely would not have minded.  Kind of like if a policeman in Tinton Falls would ever decide to do his job and cite those bikers on the many laws they were breaking that day, I would have actually wished him well too.

For now, I can only hope karma and sperm killing biker shorts catches up with them and saves future society.

     P.S. Ok, so today I was driving to the mechanics, to have my car worked on, and saw a school bike ride in process.  There was a teacher in the front, twenty or so kids in a line after him and a teacher or supervisor bringing up the rear.  I guess there is hope for the future.

Cohabitating.

     It’s been one year since my girlfriend moved in.  I realized, when it first happened, that I had been living alone, for so long, I had forgotten how to live with someone else.  I’m not saying it was good or bad, just different.  In the last year, my man cave has been slowly transforming.  The design edges aren’t as rough.  There is a cat litter box in the kitchen, women’s underwear in the bedroom and enough hair care products in the shower to have a ‘My Little Pony’ party.

     The initial move was tough.  People don’t understand how small 980 sq. ft. is and my girlfriend was no exception.  After bringing in countless pieces of furniture, chachka and the like, she quickly realized that she would need to trim down significantly.  Even with my minimalistic life style, most of the space was already filled.  Large amounts of compromise happened over the little amount of space.

     The Co-op has by no means been transformed into a finished product.  It is still a work in progress.  The difference now is that things have to be a joint decision and not a unilateral whim.  The good news is that if I plummet to my death, off of the ladder of doom while putting something in the attic, my lifeless body won’t be lying at the bottom of the steps waiting for my neighbors to call the police because of the smell of decomposing flesh.

 

70 Million Years in the Making.

     R., the girls, and I have taken up the hobby of fossil hunting.  Yeah, I know what you are thinking, ‘Fossil hunting in NJ?’.  Ironically, the first dinosaur for exhibit in the United States was found in NJ in the 1800s.  It was a Hadrosaur (Named for Haddonfield, NJ).   

     Our journey into fossil hunting started because I saw a preserve on the way to a golf outing.  I couldn’t remember the name when I got home, so I searched for preserves in the area and found a place named Big Brook. 

     That weekend the kids and I jumped into the car to do some recon.  Arriving at the preserve, we could see the trails leading to the water and heard the sloshing of screens and sifters. Running into a young man dressed like Indiana Jones, we found out that everything from sharks teeth to dinosaur bones could be found at the location.  Feeling silly, that we did not bring any gear, we decided to come back the next day with R.

     The following day was sunny.  Armed with our water shoes and dollar store colanders, we arrived at the water.  When I was younger I did some shark tooth hunting at Sharks River Park but it left me ill prepared for Big Brook.  We stepped into the cold rushing water and found what we thought was a decent spot.  Immediately we began to pull up interesting rocks and pieces of ancient sharks’ teeth.

Within fifteen minutes of arriving, we found our first whole shark tooth.  It was awesome.  We started finding fossilized squid, brachiopods and other goodies.  All of us were excited about our finds.  We each picked our favorite five (Park regulates amount of fossils taken to five per person) and left.

      As excited as R, and I were, the kids were interested enough, that they wanted to go back a few days later.  Again, we were amazed at the items that we pulled up from the underbelly of the currents.  We even got to see an ancient clam bed on a river wall.

      It was time for a kid project, so we headed off to A.C. Moore to pick up a shadow box and some stickers to create a display of our newly found treasures.

      Looking at the shadow box now, we kind of laugh.  Since then, we have purchased some real sifting screens and trowels.  We have found several more fossil hunting locations and have sifted perfect shark teeth, shells, jaws, spines, vertebrae, Brachiopods and even an early dear skull.  We’ve also met many interesting people and have learned much about the items we have collected.

     Of all the treasures we have found in the river, the best was a hobby the whole family enjoys and it was only 70,000,000 years in the making.

Creative Thursday - Self Portrait in a Mermaid's Purse and Praying to Hatch

Self Portrait in a Mermaids Purse.

Praying to Hatch

The Resolve - (Do not read while eating.)

     Last November, two months after my girlfriend R. moved in, an incident occurred that changed my perspective on a lot of things.  Everything started out fine and we laughed as we had meatballs for dinner.  I went to bed, as usual, except for a slight bout of gas and some stomach discomfort.  Three hours later I had to get up and go to the bathroom.  Nothing felt wrong until I sat on the toilet.  Then all hell broke loose.  There was no pain or discomfort just a total collapse. Everything in my body wanted out and I had no control.  No opening was safe, even my eyes had fluid expelling from them.  After ten minutes of this condition, my girlfriend banged on the bathroom door and asked if I was OK. 

      My mind and body had stopped communicating with each other.  A detached, “No!”, crumpled from my lips. 

      All shame, all fear, all thought of anything but feeling better left my mind as R. exclaimed, “I’m coming in, don’t worry about anything!”

     My girlfriend opened the door, while I was trying to get into expulsion position.  I could barely move, my mind was trapped in an exhausted body.  My eyes would not focus and I was struggling to interact with my surroundings.  My thought processes still relatively sharp, I heard R, in a panicked voice ask, “Should I call an ambulance?”.  

     I’ve heard that question many times in my life but this was the first time I ever answered, “YES”.  My voice must have been weaker than I thought because I could sense a growing tone of fear in R’s.

    She left the bathroom and ran for the phone.  I propped myself back up on the toilet just in time to hear R. talking to the ambulance dispatch.  In a panic she had forgotten the street number of our home and asked me.  I spouted it out and realized that my condition was not getting better.  She came up and asked me, “Do you need anything?  I told them a potential heart attack, to get them to hurry.  Relax, they’ll be here soon.”    

     I tried not to reflect back the fear in her eyes as I explained I was too weak to even move.  She asked if I would be OK alone and ran downstairs to wait for the ambulance.

     In my head, my body was dissolving from within, like in some bad horror movie.  I sat with the trash pail in front of me.  My mind began to float, my life did not so much flash before my eyes, as slowed down at the thought of a finality that could potentially be on its way.  I thought of the girls and wondered if I would have time to say goodbye to them.  I tried to focus on anything but what was happening to my body and collapsed back to the floor.  R. came back up and exclaimed that she was going to call the ambulance service back and find out where they were, it had been twenty minutes.  I slowly pulled myself back up again.  At this point I was shaking.  Not an, I’m cold or had the chills but a violent convulsive, I’m being possessed shake.  I closed my eyes to meditate and heard R. screaming at a disconnected voice, “No!  No one is at our door!  No!  No one has called us!  What?!?!  Tell them, they are not at the door, I’m standing in front of it!”.

      With everything out that could possibly be out and yet a human body still survive, I stood up on shaky legs.  My convulsions were beyond belief.  I wondered how a body in such an exhausted state could potentially move so much and so fast.  R. came up and asked if I needed anything.  I asked her for a bottle of Gatorade.  Next thing I remembered, she was back with it.  I told her to cancel the ambulance, I was feeling better.  She left as I struggled to open the Gatorade bottle.  Trying to grab an erratically moving bottle with an erratically moving hand proved nearly impossible.  With incredible concentration I got my second hand on the cap and laughed to myself, as the bottle shook, ‘I’d be great for chocolate milk or orange juice right now.’.  After some more struggle, I got the bottle open and could barely drink without spilling it or inadvertently tossing it across the room.  Stupidly, I sat at the top of the steps.  Gatorade bottle to mouth and both hands to Gatorade bottle.  I heard R. arguing with the dispatch, “YES!  I said cancel it!  NO!  No one is in front of our house!  State police?  NO!  They haven’t shown up!  NO! I don’t care!  It has been over an Hour!”.

     As R. came to the landing of the steps, I tried to smile at her but even my lips were shaking.  As my mind was slowly gaining control of my body, I wanted to tell her of the beauty I saw on her worn face at that moment.  She wore well the confidence, the bravery, the strength and the ability to handle an insane situation.  She asked, “Are you feeling better?”.  Looking at her, I felt remarkably better. 

“Yes.”, I replied in the first normal (but shaky) voice she had heard from me in a while, “Did you poison me with those meatballs?”.  She looked at me with a tired smile in her eyes and knew I would be OK.

     Food poisoning may not sound like the perfect way to harden a relationship (and I highly recommend not trying it.) but that night, I realized that I had, ‘found a good one.’.   A year later and we are still cohabitating.  Luckily the incidents of that night never had a repeat.  Often when I look at R.’s face I see a twinkling of the courage and resolve it took to see me in the state I was in and still maintain the level headedness to react.