Come on Spring!

I need Spring to arrive and I mean soon.  This long winter is getting to me and getting to my head.  My VFR hasn’t left the garage since the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and it’s looking like it might be Easter before the weather breaks.  3-4 days of 40 degree weather and a good rain to wash all the salt and crap off the road might get me out sooner though.

Yesterday I got so mad during a 5th and 6th grade girls basketball game that I kicked a sports drink bottle across the gym floor and stormed off to our “locker room” before the game  was over.  Yes, 5th and 6th grade girls…  Yes, the referees really were that bad, but that’s no excuse.  At that age it really should be all about the girls learning and having a good time playing a game that I love.  My girls are learning and improving every week, and they’re a great group of girls so I should be satisfied, indeed happy with the way this year has gone.  Unfortunately we’ve only won one game, though we’ve been close in each of the last 4, and I want so badly for these girls to taste victory that I lost focus on what really matters at this age – fun, and me being a better example than that as their coach.  So now I get to swallow my pride and go grovel to the referees I yelled at, the other coaches and league officials I offended, and probably the other parents who were there and don’t really know me well enough to know that was outside of my normal character.

What does that have to do with Spring weather and motorcycles?  Everything.

Pipe and Slippers

My hair is getting thinner and what’s left is getting grayer
And I’m afflicted with all manner of pain
I’ve lost a little fire and I’ve lost a few good years
But it’s nothing compared to what I’ve gained

I often catch myself sounding like my father
And wonder what’s to become of me
I’ve got a few regrets and I owe a couple favors
But I’m not ready for my final plea

I’m not ready for pipe and slippers
I’m not ready for the rocking chair
I’m not ready to read morning papers
And wait till you take me there

Watch my baby girl turn into a lady
Before my very eyes
Wonder what sort of world’s waiting for my baby
But I’m not gonna sit here just waiting to die

And I’m not ready for pipe and slippers
I’m not ready for that rocking chair
I’m not ready to read morning papers
And wait till you take me there

There’s still races to be run and there’s still songs to be sung
Still weddings and funerals to see
There’s still plenty of hurting and plenty of loving
And still plenty of time for me

But you can bring me my pipe
And you can bring me my slippers
While I sit here in this chair
But I don’t want to read the morning paper
And I’m not just waiting for you to take me there.

Bring me my pipe
And bring me my slippers
While I sit here in my chair
But I don’t want to read the morning paper
And wait till you take me there
Wait till you take me there
Wait till you take me there

Of Groove and Life

Groove; a mystic word of sorts, so what does it mean exactly?

For the musician, specifically for the bass player, groove is that magical moment when the bass player and the drummer are playing as one and the guitar player or other soloist is completely free to play whatever they are feeling without having to even think about where the rhythm section is. The danger is getting into a musical rut and not being able to get out. The music becomes boring and you risk losing your audience. To prevent this it is always necessary to keep pushing, adding to the groove with ghost notes, ear bending note choices (there are no ‘wrong’ notes) and space between the notes.

For the motorcyclist groove happens when you and the motorcycle are one on a familiar road and the corners are all handled with an easy perfection and cadence. You feel the motor purring between your knees and every piece of the road surface and feel as though nothing can go wrong. The very real danger is that you lose focus and come into a corner too hot or are completely unprepared for a hazard in the road. If this happens at a high enough speed, this could ultimately lead to your death. To prevent this the motorcyclist must take frequent breaks, remain on continual high alert, ride unfamiliar roads sometimes, and even slow down a little (yes, I know…)

What about faith? Is it possible to get into a “groove” in faith? What would that look like? How would you prevent that groove turning into a rut or leading to spiritual death due to lack of attention?