Why I ride my bike - and why you might want to as well

"Bicycle bicycle bicycle

I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle

I want to ride my bicycle

I want to ride my bike

I want to ride my bicycle

I want to ride it where I like" - Freddy Mercury - Queen

When I was a little boy growing up in a northern suburb of Chicago, I was one of 6 boys in my family. Being the 4th youngest, I always seemed to get my share of hand-me-downs, however one thing my dad always did was made sure we all had our own bikes. See, this was the only mode of transportation for us in those days. Although we all got drivers licenses as soon as we could, noone had their own car (and even if my dad could afford to buy us each one, he never would have even considered it because, well, that's just who he was and how he raised us). 

We rode our bikes everywhere! School, to the store, to friends houses, to work (we all caddied at Glenview Country Club) and of course just out playing everyday we could. Eddie Vedder (yes, that Eddie Vedder :-) lived just down the block from us and he and my brother Chris were good friends and would play together, riding bikes and getting into all sorts of trouble. They are still friends to this day. Every Pearl Jam concert in Chicago Eddie leaves 4 tickets for Chris at the box office. At one of the last shows, in between songs he gave Chris a 'shout out', telling a story about how he and Chris used to terrorize the neighborhood on their Schwinn Stingrays. It was pretty cool!  

One of my favorite things to do when I got paid from my caddy job: I'd get my backpack, hop on my bike and ride to my favorite record store, Record City, in Skokie, I'd bee-line it to the 'cut out' bin in the back of the store and I'd rummage through every single album in the bin. These were basically records the store had deeply discounted to get rid of them. They were identified by having the left edge of the cover cut off. They were usually $1, so I could buy 10 for the $10 spot I had burning a hole in my pocket. If all I found was 1 or 2 songs I liked on one of these I considered it a score. I quickly built my record collection this way. Today, I have over 3000 vinyl records and still play them!  

One of the best summer jobs I've ever had involved my bicycle. It was the summer of 1979 and my sister, who was and still is the Administrative Assistant to the Chief of Police in Morton Grove, told me about a cool new summer job that the department was rolling out. It was called the 'Bicycle Patrol' and it involved a handful of 'bicycle patrol people' riding the streets and bike trails in Morton Grove promoting bike safety. I applied and got the job. For three glorious months that summer I got paid to ride my bike all day long! Best. Job. EVER! (Ironically, none of us wore helmets). 

I didn't have a car when I went to college, however I did have my bike. I rode it everywhere in the small town of Gunnison, Colorado. The problem I had there was that it was in the mountains and 8 months out of the year there was snow up to my ying yang and it was cold as a wiccan's bosom (with apologies to all my wiccan friends - you know who you are!). I would ride to class often bundled head to toe with winter clothes, only to have to change into a tee shirt putting everything else into my backpack for the afternoon ride home. It was crazy.

Enough reminiscing, let's fast-forward to today. I started running my junior year of high school in 1977. I started in order to lose weight and get into shape. It didn't take me long to really find my stride (see what I did there?) and quickly escalated my mileage to where I was running between 5 to 8 miles a day. Well, I quickly lost tons of weight and got down to a svelte 160 pounds. The best part was the 'runners high' I became addicted to. This is very real and real good! I kept running through college and into my 30's, and 40's. However around my 50th birthday my arthritic knees and bad back got so bad that my running days were coming to an end. This is when I decided to try cycling to alternate my workouts. I started with a mountain bike, and worked up to a road bike. Besides the physical benefits of riding, maybe the best part is what happens to you mentally and emotionally. You get the benefits of endless endorphin's washing over your brain and body, but the sense of vitality, endurance, freedom, and the sheer power of your own body is not only exhilarating; it's transcendent!  

My whole point in writing this today is that I want to clear up any misconceptions of why I ride my bike and what you're missing if you aren't riding yours. I ride to feel the wind in my face. I ride to get exercise. I ride to get away from the stress and strain that is my life. I ride because it makes me feel so alive. You'd be so surprised, shocked even, how quickly the transformation happens. 

I ride because it makes me feel like a kid again.

Father's Day Thoughts

Fathers Day is upon us and I want to take a moment and share a few thoughts about my own father, family, my upbringing and what I've learned as a father. Just about any healthy guy can become a father, however it's the special person that gets to be called Daddy. 

Family dynamics have changed so much since I was a kid in the 1960's, but here's the conclusion I'm coming to, and it's just my take on what my mom & dad did for us (and there were 7 children in my family!). 

Although there doesn't appear to be an 'owners manual' with instructions for being a good father, but there are indeed some rules.

How you get there is what makes you a Dad. 

These are the basic four, in no particular order. A good father provides the following: 

1. A Safe & Warm Environment: a home, adequately cooled, heated, and secured. A room (even if shared with someone) that we could call our own and feel safe. 

2. A Comfortable and healthy environment: one where we all had plenty of healthy food to eat (even if that wasn't always our fist choice :-); good healthcare; good education and people encouraging us in our studies; recreational opportunities, as well as discipline and boundries clearly laid out and consistently enforced (although being the 5th child, I got away with plenty of shenanigans :-). 

3. Love and kindness: we didn't have a lot of money, but we also didn't know it. 

There was always plenty of love, support, and encouragement in my home - with much of it coming from my extended large Italian family. 

4. Stability: Regardless of what my parents were going through, we didn't know it - we all knew that at the end of the day, regardless of the drama, trouble, fighting, etc. we were going to be OK. And we were. 

My point here is I don't think it matters a whole lot WHO is providing the four things I mention above. What's important is that they are provided. Sadly, there are too many children living in situations that have one or more of these missing and THIS has a big effect on who and what these people become. 

Happy Fathers Day to all fathers who stuck it out and provided for your families. The hardest job you'll ever love! 

Things Aren't Always What They Seem

"I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger

I'm traveling through this world of woe

Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger

In that bright land to which I go..."

-Traditional American Folk Song-

Just this morning I was thinking about someone from my past. When I was in high school, my summer job (since the age of 10) was as a caddy at Glen View Country Club. 

This was a very wealthy club on Chicago's North side and catered to people like JD Searle (yes THAT Searle!). Anyway, I quickly befriended another caddy who was older than I, and I only knew him as L&M (every caddy worth their salt got a nickname. Mine was Bear. Anyway L&M was a loner.  He always looked a bit haggard, with his long, thin sandy hair, clean shaven face and clean but wrinkled clothes, and he was very tall and thin. His skin was weathered making him look older than he was. 

We spent a lot of time just hanging out at the caddy shack (yes, there actually IS a caddy shack!) waiting for our 'loops' (this is what an assignment was called).  We often went to McDonalds for lunch, or I'd share whatever lunch my mom may have made for me, and sometimes I'd bring him to my house and we'd eat and hang out. He was the nicest, kindest, most interesting guy I knew. He was a gentle soul.  Also well traveled. Well, I soon found out that he didn't have home to go to after work.  Rather, he said he lived in the woods, and then when the season ended here (around early October) he'd go down to Florida and caddy somewhere down there. It just NEVER occurred to me that I was friends with a homeless man, nor did I care.  I just thought this is what he enjoyed doing, and like the beatniks and hippie's (which he was one) he preferred to not be 'tied down' with material things. The only possession he seemed to own was a bicycle.  

I have no idea if he was an alcoholic or druggie (I never saw any evidence of anything other than an occasional joint - remember this was the early 1970's!), and he was well educated, articulate, and had some of the most astute observations of and about people and things around us. I often invited him to stay overnight when the weather was crappy, but he never took me up on it. 

I've been thinking a lot about homeless people and the connection to Mental Illness lately. 

Approximately 20 - 25% of the single adult homeless population suffers from some form of severe and persistent mental illness (National Resource and Training Center on Homelessness and Mental Illness, 2003)

I was working in South Miami back in the late 1990's and on my way to campus, as I was stopped at a light, a man came up to my window with this newspaper and a donation jar.  I plunked in whatever change I had and he handed me a copy.  At lunch I decided to read it. I came across an article written by a young woman who recently found herself in the unthinkable position - she was homeless.


This educated woman recently lost her job, followed by the loss of custody of her children, she then lost her home to foreclosure, and then the only thing she had left was her car - which she was living in until it too was repossessed by the bank.

With no place else to turn, she started begging and pan handling on the street, occasionally doing things she now deeply regrets. Of the many things she talked about, the one thing that really stuck out for me was how she described people who would give her money. She said many of them asked her what she would do with the money, as a condition before giving it to her.  She said most times she'd lie and say what she thought they wanted to hear. 

But her opinion was this: "...it's none of your business what I do with the money you give me.  It's your choice of course, if you want to give me anything.  And it's my choice what I do with it. Sometimes I buy food, or an evening in a shelter, or clothes. But sometimes all I want is something to help me forget about the fact I have no where to sleep tonight, I'm in physical and mental pain, emotionally depressed and maybe a cheap wine buzz helps..."

Amen.     

Should you be interested, The Voice of the Homeless newspaper is a fundraising arm of The Homeless Voice.ORG - http://www.homelessvoice.org/  This video is a great introduction to the incredibly difficult and important work that they do.  

http://youtu.be/PFJgUVTxhUQ  

These aren't just society's disposable problems - they are people, often with significant mental illness.  As I've made clear in numerous posts, there will be NO ice bucket Challenges for me, but if anyone wants to present me with a challenge for Mental Illness education and fundraising, I'm ALL In.  

Another Rite Of Passage or Just Glad To Be Alive

"TRYING TO STEAL A MINUTE
FROM A STINGY HANDS OF TIME
AND I’M TRYIN TO GET TO HEAVEN
BEFORE THEY HANG OUT THE CLOSIN SIGN
WORLD BLOWN PAST ME
AND WHAT HAVE I GOT TO SHOW
I’M JUST TRYIN TO STEAL A MINUTE
BEFORE IT’S TIME TO GO"

(Randall Bramblett from The Bright Spots)

Today's Chautauqua  concerns a recent health scare, another rite of passage, and a renewed sense of relief and appreciation of this gift we call life - all wrapped up together.  Without going into the unpleasant details, recently I have been having much pain and discomfort in my gut and it brought me to finally do something about it (I know, something about men not stopping to ask for directions yada, yada...).  Which led me to my most recent rite of passage.  I call my Blog, The Other Side of This Life because I am, and one of these rites of passage for anyone over 50 is the dreaded (for very good reason!) Colonoscopy.

Anyone who has been through this awful experience understands.  Those who have not, will eventually.
I'm not going to talk about this, but rather some feelings that led up to it.


As it turns out, I come from a long line of hypochondriacs on my fathers side (as my wife will remind me - often). So as my abdominal pain and discomfort intensified and I continued to ignore it, I knew something wasn't right and decided to do some research online.


Anyone who has ever done this, you know, go online for medical information, knows it took me about 30 seconds to diagnose myself with advanced stage colon cancer with less than 5 years to live.  Don't laugh, you've done that too I'm sure :-).

I'm not making light of this serious situation that so many people face, I'm simply telling my story.  As I pondered my possible early demise what I was really thinking of was my family: have I taken care of them if I can't be there? Emotionally, mentally, financially?  Are my 'ducks lined up' so they are?  What will they remember about me? Will there be tears of sorrow or a mixture of tears of joy as well? Was I a good dad? A good husband? Friend? Brother? Son?

The only one of these questions I can answer is the financial one - the only one that doesn't rely on what someone else thinks. I think that, yes, if I were to die of some disease or accident, my family would be taken care of.  The good news is, after my test, whatever will ultimately kill me, it's not likely to be colon cancer.

Which leads me to the real reason I'm writing this today. I have been thinking quite a bit about some people in my life that are going through some medical challenges that are indeed threatening their very lives.  One of them is my uncle, and the other two are friends and colleagues I work with at Wiley.  I am amazed, strengthened, and humbled by their courage and determination to beat these things.  All three couldn't be more different in their personalities, demeanor, or careers.  They have families, bills, demanding social and civic responsibilities, yet the one thing they all have in common is their sheer love and zeal for life and mostly, the intense and burning desire to live.  I think the statement that captures this best is from my friend Liz who has just kicked cancer's ass:

"I am just glad to be alive so I will take the burdens that come with that gift."

So the next time I'm getting ready to complain about my arthritis, or lower back pain, or work, money or family problems, I'm going to try (try I tell you!) to remember Liz' words.

As always, Peace, Love, and Great Music! 

If you want to change the world get over being a sugar cookie and keep moving forward

It's graduation season and all the commencement speakers are sharing their pearls of wisdom with the recently minted scholars who are ready to go out and change the world. Some of them will be successful, and many will fail.  

The other day I came across this commencement speech by Naval Admiral William H. McRaven, a former Navy Seal, who spoke at his alma mater, UT-Austin recently, entitled: 

Ten Life Lessons From A Navy Seal.  

Please read this article and then the commentary to follow will make far more sense.  

What does it really mean to go and "change the world"?  I'm going to be 54 this August and I've been thinking long and hard about what this means.  I'm coming to the conclusion that I've been thinking about this all wrong.  It's not the world that needs changing, but rather me.  Anyone who has read anything I've written, knows that I have come to define success differently than many people.  Successful people do many things, but the following two stand out: 

1. They finish what they start  2. They embrace the concept of sustainability.  The other important point is that successful people apply this to everything they do regardless of how important it may seem.  It's so easy to think that success only gets applied to big, important goals and achievements.  Not so.  Success comes from paying attention to the little things.  

"By the end of the day, that one task completed will have turned into many tasks completed. Making your bed will also reinforce the fact that little things in life matter."

This speech uses an extreme example of physical, mental, and emotional abuse to illustrate his points with the Navy Seal training.  However, the morals are absolutely transferable to each one of us. I sincerely doubt that I could withstand and pass these extreme training exercises and tests to become a Navy Seal.  That's a choice we can make: do I want to apply to Navy Seal training camp? No, thank you I don't. However, we don't get the choice as to whether we want to apply for Life Training Camp.  

Whether we like it or not, we all end up swimming with the sharks during 'hell week'. 

"You can’t change the world alone—you will need some help— and to truly get from your starting point to your destination takes friends, colleagues, the good                                               will of strangers and a strong coxswain to guide them."

What I take away from Admiral McRaven's speech is that the guys who quit the Navy Seal training camp are the one's who never figure out why they are there and what it's true purpose is. It's not to be first or to beat the other guys, or the system, or do something - anything perfect because it's very design makes this impossible.  It's purpose is to break one's spirit and get them to quit.  This, like life, has a similar purpose and that is to discover who you are and what exactly you are made of.  Are you tough enough to persevere? The purpose is not to win, but rather to finish.  You'll be surprised, like the Seals, how many people simply quit.  Sometimes just by not quitting you find out that you are the winner. 

"Those students didn’t understand the purpose of the drill. You were never going to succeed. You were never going to have a perfect uniform. 

Remember the old phrase you would sometimes hear from older people, "life is a circus"?  Growing up in a large family with 6 siblings, this was so true!  However the Seals have a different take on this idea.  It's more like the, 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger' saying. The point is that perseverance through continuous adversity does indeed build character, strength and endurance even though you may feel like you are simply being punished.  

"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."

My favorite though is #5  'If you want to change the world get over being a sugar cookie and keep moving forward'.  This one, combined with #10 is the real secret to success in anything you do.  At times, life is going to be unfair, cruel, unkind, ugly, brutal, unforgiving and just flat out mean. It will also be beautiful, exciting, exhilarating, fun, fabulous, and downright awesome.  You can't have flowers without rain; good times without bad; happiness without sadness; pleasure without some pain.  It's all the 'circus training' that prepares us for the long haul.  

"Sometimes no matter how well you prepare or how well you perform you still end up as a sugar cookie."

The only real question to ask yourself is, are you going to ring the bell or are you going to be the sugar cookie? 

 "All you have to do to quit—is ring the bell. Ring the bell and you no longer have to wake up at 5 o’clock. Ring the bell and you no longer have to do the freezing cold swims.

Ring the bell and you no longer have to do the runs, the obstacle course, the PT—and you no longer have to endure the hardships of training.

Just ring the bell."

#10. If you want to change the world don’t ever, ever ring the bell.

Note: All quotes are from, Naval Admiral William H. McRaven, 10 Life Lessons From A Navy Seal, speech delivered at UT-Austin 2014 commencement  

Carry On My Wayward Son & other vinyl memories of Christmas Past

It was Christmas morning and I had just turned 16 that previous August. I don't remember every detail, but I do know that I woke up that morning and came downstairs where my mom already had the coffee and orange juice ready.  Our Berrafato Christmas tradition involved Midnight Mass Christmas Eve so that Christmas morning could be spent hanging at home opening gifts and having breakfast.  Grandma & Grandpa B. would spend the night so we all could be here.  It was a big group even before girlfriends, boyfriends, spouses or grandkids.  Eleven in total when it was 'just the immediate family'.  I can't remember if Gab was with us this Christmas or whether he was already deployed in the Navy.  If he was, chances are he probably didn't get home until shortly before I woke up and was now in various states of a nasty hangover, and grumpy to boot. 

My father was a self employed attorney so money was often tight.  It was 'feast or famine' depending on who paid him when, and I don't know how he provided for us.  We  lived in a nice house and I never recall ever going without the essentials.  Even though as we got older the gift piles got smaller, how my mom was able to pull off one present filled Christmas after another - year after year - for all of us remains a real puzzle to this day.

As I surveyed my 'bounty', I saw what I already immediately knew was an album and I decided to open that one last.  There were the usual clothing articles, aftershave, and small but useful (and needed) grooming and fashion accessories, but then there was The Record!  Having just discovered the 'FM Dial' only a year or so previously, Kansas' Carry On My Wayward Son was at #11 on the Pop Charts and in heavy rotation on FM stations. 

I remember when I first started listening to the radio and I would hear a song I really liked.  It would seemingly 'burn a placeholder' in my brain and mark a period in my life - one that would always be instantly brought back front-and-center when I would hear that song.  I'd raid my piggy bank (a 45 record cost about $.69 cents in 1968 :-)  get on my bike and ride the 3 miles roundtrip to EJ Korvetts, where the record department was on the 2nd floor.  I'd buy my record and ride home as fast as I could and then play that baby non-stop.  During summer vacation when my family would spend the week at Sharenburg's White Lake Beach resort in Central Wisconsin we'd spend hours each day in the 'Game Room' and the central focus was of course, the Jukebox.  I'm sure I spent at least half of all the money I saved that year playing songs on that wonderful and joyful machine. 

Of course I'd come home and immediately start saving up to buy all those records over that fall.  This was the start of my serious music acquisition and has been on fire ever since! 

So back to that Christmas morning in 1976, as I tore the wrapping paper off the record and saw it was the new Kansas LP Leftoverture and knew THIS was going to be a great day!  (obviously one of my brothers helped my mom pick this out :-) 

Part of the immense joy I got back then from buying music was the process one had to go through to acquire it.  If you really want to see how much the world has changed regarding technology, think about how simple and instantaneous it is to buy music today.  I can literally do it in less than 30 seconds! (even while flying at 30,000 feet somewhere over Oklahoma!)  As I got older and my musical tastes evolved (or as some might argue - devolved ;-) I was no longer buying 45's, but rather 33 LP's.  This required going to different record stores and was far more expensive.  But I still got on my bike and would ride to Record City in Skokie (10 miles round trip) and of course do the EXACT same thing! 

This is just one of a dozen wonderful Christmas memories I have from my boyhood.   What are some of yours? 

Who doesn't want more stuff?

Somehow, completely unbeknownst to me, I have a subscription to Guitar Player magazine.  As I was flipping through the pages two immediate thoughts/impressions jumped out at me: First, I've never seen so much electronic wizardry in my life, let alone have ANY idea what anyone would possibly do with it.  Secondly, the players they profile are basically all technically gifted freaks of nature and most mortals who play can and never will be able to do ANYTHING these freaks can. 

How does ANY of this stuff make anyone a better guitar player?  However, the more important question is: Do they really NEED it? 

This got me to thinking about the fast approaching Christmas holiday season and the 'consumer orgy' that it has become. 

Dionysus

What Madison Avenue and Wall Street have done to this holiday would have Dionysus blushing. 

Even the God of Wine, Merry Making, Theater, and Ecstasy couldn't have imagined what we could accomplish with credit cards. 

Christmas means many things to many people, and even those who aren't religious or not even Christian find special meaning in the holidays.  Getting back to my point, how much more 'stuff' do any of us need?  I was thinking about how social media has become such an important part of our lives and being able to post photos of us having a good time has seemingly become more important than, well, actually having a good time!  I find myself guilty of missing the magic of the moment on occasion because I want to 'capture it' to post on my Facebook page. 

It's a real new and weird concept: that being how the opportunity for you to show people not with you what a great time they are missing, except that you actually missed it too because you were too busy trying to capture a photo to show them what a great time you're having and they aren't. I think this is a good metaphor for what happens to so many of us during this special Christmas / holiday time. 

We get so caught up in the 'buying stuff' and all the expectations surrounding the gift giving pressure that we often miss the opportunity to just experience the joy that may be as simple as sharing a meal, seeing a movie with friends, having a cup of coffee with a good book, or just hanging with the family or loved ones watching TV. 

Here is my wish for you this magical holiday season: May you stop the madness that is life these daze for just a spell and look at the people around you. Ask yourself, 'why are they around you?'  Hopefully the answer is because you chose to have them in your life.  Now, take some time to let them know why. 

Here's wishing you and your families a relaxing, safe, and blessed Christmas holiday season and may the new year bring you good health, lot's of laughter, happiness and prosperity. 

Peace and Love,

Markbear & family