a low tech guy meets high tech head on

I am blessed to be riding one of the first 2019 Triumph Speed Triple RS in the states.  Dealers are still waiting for their’s, and I have one for a few days, longer if I wasn’t leaving town.  After seeing the prototype a few months back, here for a brochure shoot, serial number prototype003, I wanted one.  The fit and finish was exceptional, Arrow pipes as standard, along with big Brembos and Ohlins suspension front and rear.  Lots of carbon fiber, but of all things it was a badge on the handle bars that got me, just a classy Speed Triple RS logo.  I fell to vanity.  Or had I?  So when offered the first one on Tuesday, I was at Mick’s shop before it was out of the crate, and 24 hours later have 274 miles of riding experience.  Most on the coast, at least today, and I want one even more, maybe because it is so impractical for the way I ride, maybe for the way it makes me feel 40 years younger, but really, and this amazes me too, the technology.  Me, Uncle Low Tech...am I losing it or just giving in?  Do I really need 148 hp, or do I just want to ride more....

Some of its features include traction control, which you can turn off so you can wheelie, a form of traction control that works while leaned over in corners, a gauge screen that gives you six choices of backgrounds, cruise control, five engine mappings, keyless starting, an electronic fork lock, and more info than any fool should be accessing at a high speed.  And it all works!  Even the ride by wire throttle feels like it is cable actuated.  There must be more, but for now I rather ride than read about.  The only flaw I can find is in the front end, this thing keeps wanted to loose traction as the front wheel lifts off the ground under acceleration!   Please anyone with $16,750 to spare do not lend it to me, it could be dangerous.  What would my other motorcycles think?

While riding yesterday I found myself in prayer much of the time.  Not for requests, the most common form of prayer, but in thanksgiving for being able to ride.  And this particular bike.  At two bikes shops we stopped at, even the non-Triumph shop loved it, wow it must be cool to have one.  Even cooler to be loaned one.  It would be easy to have a swelled head, or boast, but I can go back to having only one old ride, with over 70,000 miles on it, and no technology, and still being thankful for riding.  God knows my passion to ride, and fulfills it in ways I would never imagine, and I am blessed and thankful.  His daily bread of meeting my physical needs reminds me not to take things for granted.  He is the same God who kept me fed when broke and hungry, and the same one who loves me when I eat too much today.  He gives me choices when it comes to him, something religion or the cults don’t, and I am thankful for the blessings he provides.  We forget to thank Jesus everyday for our daily bread, for what we eat, where we live, and what we wear.  Going to service Sunday clothes may be OK, but I have learned that jeans and a t-shirt are all I need.  The same trust of Jesus beats within my heart no matter the package it is wrapped in.  If we neglect to remember the Lord in a prayer of thanksgiving, his grace is still sufficient, but we miss the blessings.  When we think that we can do it ourselves, we are living a lie, for all things proceed from the hand of God.  Just like technology, it may improve life, but Jesus is still the life, and without him as the starting point, all else is destined to fail. 

Starting the Speed Triple takes a starting sequence, and if you try to bypass it, the bike won’t run.  Same with Jesus, we must ask for forgiveness, after recognizing our sin.  We must realize his deity and who he is, when we know who he is, we will better understand why he came.  Yet many do not tune in to him, and miss many blessings of knowing him.  Reading about the Speed Triple is much different than riding one.  Same with Jesus, you may be able to quote scripture, have read the Bible many times, but until you meet the author personally, you may be better off just looking at the pictures.  Educated or experienced.  Until we do we may not be in spiritual darkness, but myopic, even blinded by the things of the world.  Or the church. Pride makes its ugly appearance in many subtle forms....

So maybe when we pray “give us our Lord your daily bread,” we need to remember how he meets our physical needs, and it was the first thing mentioned in the Lord’s prayer of how to pray.  We live in a physical world, despite all the technology, all the horsepower, and all the king’s horses, only Jesus can put us together again.  Keep the lines open in humility, thank him for all you have and need, listen for his answer when you ask, then trust and obey.  Many racers claim to have seen God when they enter a turn too fast, he is in the straights as well.  In the pits of life and racing, and on the podium at the end.  You are invited along, don’t let your pride or money get in the way.  Riding at speed is no way to enter a corner too fast, all the technology will not make you a better rider, it just compensates for your lack of talent.  Which only is evident when you need it.  Don’t wait to be in need to come to Jesus, don’t let your lack of prayer life and relationship cause you to miss out.  Salvation is a high technology no man can ever duplicate or improve on.  It takes a low tech guy who hung on a low tech cross and who made the way.  I anticipate blessings because I know my God loves me.  I know his name, Jesus, and he knows mine. Or in today’s rider vocabulary, “man does not ride alone, but on every bike that proceedeth from the garage of God.” 

Just a note, for any Harley rider who thinks he could ride one, they come in black.  Lest I boast and ride alone.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

what do you do when you're stranded and you don't have a roll....

 Quick, name an invention that has changed your life, and you wouldn’t want to do without?  Motorcycles, computers, TV’s, microwaves all are fair game.  But think simpler, what common items do we use everyday, yet take for granted?  For some it is the miracle drugs that keep us going, electricity in the home is good, so is indoor plumbing.  But think simpler, something we really take for granted, and when it is not available, we can blow our cool?  Think simple, think of where you maybe thinking....I’ll give you a hint.  It is not gender specific, isn’t affected by your social or financial status, and never asks for your opinion.  It takes on the dirtiest of jobs, and when not available.....well.  One last hint, do the initials TP mean anything to you? 

By now you may have surmised based on the clues and your public school education I mean toilet paper.  Just how important is it?  Ever try to finish the job without it?  Ever get stuck when the roll is almost empty, or gone altogether?  How can a simple item like TP, or lack of TP be so important?  Of all the things invented, I wish I had the patent on toilet paper, think of how I would clean up.....But yet how much of it gets wasted every year?  Check into a motel, anything less than half a roll is replaced, so what happens to the few last pieces, are they wasted when they are still useful?  Is it possible that carrying an extra roll of TP when traveling may be more important than wearing clean underwear?  Am I crazy, or do you now find yourself checking the supply before you sit down?

When it comes to gambling, the best odds are blackjack at 7 to 1, against you of course.  But one casino has taken the gamble out of using the toilets, at least for the poor.  Pechanga estimates they discard almost 20,000 partial rolls of toilet paper a year.  Ought to make a few land fill groupies upset, and you thought plastic bottles were America’s #1 ecological crime.  But the smarter heads at Pechanga, the execs not the men’s room, have come up with a plan, and it works.  File it under a fair deal is when both parties benefit.  They donate the partial rolls to a rescue mission, we think food and drink, but how often do you think of other needs for the homeless?  A simple way to minister, an overlooked but necessary need fulfilled.  Not recycled in the truest sense of the word, but taking a consumable and putting it to work.  Something to consider when coming up a roll short next time.  “Honey, we’re out of TP,” and everyone in the neighborhood now knows it too.

But that is just what ministry is seeing a need and filling it.  Which is what Jesus did, and exhorts us to do.  We have sock and blanket drives each winter, toy runs each Christmas, but what about the rest of the year?  When Jesus fed the 5000, how long was it before they were hungry again?  Yet we do one good deed, and move on to the next, never considering how consistent food, water, housing, clothing, and yes, toilet paper really are.  Consumables, because we use them and need to use them again. 

When we come to Christ and become a Christian, not only does our heart change, but our thinking does too.  A regeneration is how Romans describes it, and some of us need more generating than others.  We need to use the brain God gave us, and when in conjunction with our heart, act accordingly.  But it takes the spirit to guide, I see people affected by those hungry, then donate apples, neglecting to see how many cannot chew or have missing teeth.  Feeding centers placed in industrial parks, far away from the homeless and hungry.  Bus passes given to those who are by no bus route, and being invited to church, yet not being welcomed when the do show up, not properly attired.  Well meaning, just not well executed....it takes Jesus.  We see it everyday, free this or free that, but do we ever wonder why it is free?  Or if it is useful? 

For instance, I used to get a lot of rich women’s close donated.  But not every homeless woman needs an evening dress, but a friend found a use for them.  When offered 100 prom dresses from a store, he wondered what good are these?  Then he considered the homeless kids who cannot go to the prom, and ended up giving away all of them to girls to go to the prom.  Simple, yet you argue we don’t need to go the prom.  Do you need a closet full of clothes?  How many sets of golf clubs?  Expensive dinners?  They are all part of our lifestyle, and believe me, the girls esteem was boosted.  One night out to be special....or have we fallen so much we forget?

So life may be more than prom dresses or toilet paper, but both meet a need.  That is what ministry is, and where teamwork begins.  Jesus invites us to be part of his ministry, to help those in need.  Something to consider the next time you’re stranded and stuck on the toilet bowl.  What will you do when you’re stranded and you don’t have a roll?  You’ll agree, we will never take toilet paper for granted again.  Someone at Pechanga came up with the idea...how can we better serve man in the name of Jesus? I hope your answer surprises and blesses us.....goodness and kindness, against which there is no law.

And you thought computers were going to eliminate paperwork!

Talk about being a roll model....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

that disease called motorcycling

I met Sam at a Cycle World motorcycle show years ago.  He was standing by himself, studying the new Honda chopper style bike.  It was when the Metric guys were trying to catch on and each one had a Harley style cruiser, Honda going the next step, as only Honda used to be able to do.  He was wearing his Hessian colors, and nodded at me when I stopped to look.  “You know, if you had one of those you could be a real biker too,” I replied, and he laughed.  He had seen more miles than most groups of new Harley riders, his limp when walking away a dead give away, but as we talked about motorcycles and how they had changed, we both came to the same conclusion, we had the same disease, and it was called motorcycles.  He loved his Harley, was interested in Triumph as he had ridden them before, but never caught onto the “you meet the nicest people on a Honda,” line, but still had friends who rode them.  We both kept studying the Honda while we talked, and when he had seen enough, shook my hand, said it was good talking with me, wished me a good day and to ride safe.  As I watched him limp away, I knew we both suffered from the same disease, terminal but not life threatening, and even though motorcycles had changed, and are still changing, motorcycling had changed us too.  In ways we never imagined...

My friend Glen was a newcomer to motorcycles, the poster boy for the new lifestyle riders.  He thought there were only two brands of motorcycles, Harley and Davidson, and made fun of my sport bikes, as if we didn’t have the talent to drive an old tractor.  One day in the garage, he asked if he could ride my Sprint RS, wanted to see if it was as powerful as his Harley.  So we went up the freeway, me chasing him on his Harley, when we saw a bike stopped on the shoulder.  Pulling up, the guy wearing Vago colors waved Glen on, but when I pulled up, he talked with me, told me he was waiting for a truck to come fetch him, and thanked me for stopping.  If only he knew how I made fun of Harleys, and the guy he waved on was riding my bike and I was riding his.  I think Sam would have laughed at that one. 

Stopping by the local Harley store that now sells Indians, I noticed Spud was gone.  Funny how every time I pulled up on a Triumph, all the old guys would come over and tell of the one they used to have, and Spud was one of them.  Really one of us, as even if I had a Daytona, or Speed Triple, he was interested.  He would ask questions, as he had read about them, and would tell me if younger, would like to ride one.  But he was always glad to see me and talk motorcycles, again that common disease called motorcycling.  The new GM there told me any bike I want to test ride just let him know.  He knows my Triumphs and likes the new Bonnevilles.  Even though he sells Harleys and Indians. But took me back in the shop, past the no customers allowed sign to show me his Yamaha FZ09, and a BMW 1600 tourer he just bought.   Telling me intimate details about riding both of them.  He rides...and sells.  A terminal case if I ever saw one....

After being told by a major motorcycle ministry I wasn’t wanted any more, I had chosen God over their rules and regulations, almost cultic, I found I could do more ministering when not advertising myself as a Christian and acting like one.   Just like the guy who wears his Jesus shirt and cannot figure out why he always sits alone on the bus, I have this terminal case of Christianity based on Jesus Christ.  But I choose not to advertise, but to live my ride with him.  The root word for religion means binding, and whether worshipping God or motorcycles, if you live by the rules imposed, you lose you freedom.  Jesus understood this, the Pharisees never did, and although they bragged on themselves, I wonder how lonely they really were.  How unhappy, insecure, and miserable they were, having to constantly obey all the laws, for if they broke one they had broken them all, and who knew who was watching and was there to remind them.  So I feel sorry for them, but keep in mind it was their choice.  No one forced them, and in the law they were terminally ill spiritually.  No wonder they hated Jesus, he represented freedom, something not in their vocabulary,  They were so close to him, yet so far away. 

Which is why I tend to avoid many Christians, who want to save me.  My long hair and beard, my motorcycle and lifestyle may not portray their religion, but my freedom in Christ portrays who he is.  I can go and ride anywhere and any brand I want.  I can sit with Pentecostals, Catholics, Jews, and even fundamental Christians, and be free.  But within the context of their religion, my freedom scares them.  For what if they were truly free in Christ, and had to make a decision based on Jesus as opposed to denominational boundaries?  What if they became unpopular, a lot of what ifs.  But true freedom is found in the spirit, and in the spirit, these prideful worries don’t exist.  I have placed my confidence is Christ Jesus, and found his crowd of one to be superior.  Jesus never followed the crowd, if you notice the crowd followed him.  Jesus was never brand specific, all sinners were welcome.  No matter the offense.

Today may be the day you break free from religion and find victory in Jesus.  Where you find the truth truly sets you free, and you can have a  more abundant life in him.  Where you are, whoever you are, he offers his forgiveness from sin, and welcomes you as family.  Calls you friend, and loves you as you are, but doesn’t want to leave you that way.  Abundant life is one prayer away....

Or you could be like the loud pipes save lives biker who pulled up next to me.  I was less than a mile from the shop on a Rocket 3, with a Carpenter head, dynoing at 220 hp, and 189 lb. ft of torque.  He revved his engine wanting to show his superiority, so I did answered back.  With the sound of a NASCAR motor coming from the Rocket.  He just stared ahead, avoiding any eye contact, and putt putted away when the light turned green.  You see if you cannot be fast, you can always be loud.  But you cannot always be free.  I’m sure his version is different....so choose freedom today.  From motorcycles to food to where and how you worship him, Jesus lets you decide.  You make the choice, does your church or denomination offer you that?  Does your dealer?  Just think, if you had Jesus Christ in your life, you could be a real Christian too......

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

summer jobs and the music that drove us

Being a 16 year old in Jersey was the toughest year of my life to date.  In their wisdom they made the state law to drive 17, so while most of America was driving to the malt shop or cruising, two things Scotch Plains teens never did, we were still getting driven around by our parents.  It was the age to date, but who could compete against even the geekiest senior with a car, even if it was his mother’s?  Girls your age were already too old for you by rite of license, or not having one, and younger girls were just that, young.  But we knew that some day our chance would come, and 17 would be the magic age when all our teen dreams were realized, but for now......it was all hands and glands, with Clearasil your best friend.

But at age 16, when most were getting their licenses, it was the summer of our first job, real job.  For me it was working for the Union County Park Commission digging iris beds for $1.60/hour, big money in 1969 dollars.  But it was also the first summer I was exposed to real life outside of my white bread life, where meeting other kids from other schools and towns would influence me.  Due to sports I had met many others, but only and always on the field or court.  But this summer working together, my whole world expanded.  I worked with black kids from Plainfield, where only two summers ago they had riots.  I met my first Indian friend, who was steeped in tradition, my first hippie friend, and two guys who were even more ignorant and narrow minded than me.  Seems we expect a lot from a 16 year old that you cannot learn in school, it must be experienced.  And that summer was a great learning, both social and educational experience.

Music in 1969 was great, from The Carpenters to Rare Earth, to Led Zeppelin to In-a Gadda-da-Vita, FM was new, WABC was all about Cousin Brucie, and this white bread kid was about to learn what Motown was all about.  I always loved The Temptations, The Four Tops, and The Supremes, but this summer the big argument was not about race, although it would play a part, not about girls, although they would play a part, and not about cars, they wouldn’t play a part.  It was all abut who was better, Rare Earth or The Carpenters, and the arguments were both heated and valid, if not prejudicial.  The city guys form Plainfield were all about Rare Earth, you could dance to it, hence the girl connection, vs. The Carpenters you couldn’t, but you could snuggle and kiss to.  Make out in the terms of the day.  They couldn’t understand the make out part, I was no dancer, so skipped a step, no pun intended.  It took us into many racial areas, and social issues none of us how confronted before, and even though the discussions were heated at times, we all ended the day as friends, and then picked up the argument the next day.  We may have disagreed on music, but we had grown together by working together, and finding our we really weren’t that much different.  We all looked forward to driving, to college or the dream of it, we all wanted a steady girl, some just wanted to dance, while the rest of us necked.  At the end of the summer we each went our separate ways, it was only choice encounters, or the next summer job when we met that we found out what good friends we were, even if you couldn’t dance to The Carpenters.....And next summer we would be old enough to drive and our world would change again.

Where we grew up and how was a great influence in our early lives, and would change and evolve as we got older.  No one knew where Scotch Plains was, but our reputation proceeded us, as did Plainfield’s, but we all knew where it was.  Yet when we meet, we invariably ask “where are you from?”  Me,when someone thinks they know me, I ask “what do you ride or where do you go to church?”  Making judgment calls based on their answers.  Innocent enough, but down deep we really are judging or evaluating the other, while they do us.  And in doing so we have become Christian snobs.  Oh you only go to Pastor’s church, or oh you are Catholic, Jewish, or Calvary Chapel.  Without knowing, or at least I hope not knowing, we are becoming like the Pharisees, very religious and unloving.  Dictated by what we have learned in church, or following denominational guidelines.  We think that the way we worship is better, our teachings are superior, but in over 58 summers since being 16, I have not seen the passion or love since discussing music that summer.  Seems somewhere in our personal religion, Jesus is left out.  We quote his words, yet we don’t love like them.  We meet his family of believers, and want to fit in, yet find we cannot dance many times to their tune.  It’s Rare Earth vs. The Carpenters all over again, where few ever get it that Jesus was a carpenter, and the rare earth he speaks of is revealed via the holy spirit.  We forget that love is supposed to be our unique feature, and that when spirit driven, the world will see and want what we have.  Some are all hands and glands when it comes to study, some are on the dance floor, while others sit silently waiting for an invite.  Just there are many moods to music, Jesus is so deep and diverse we only get a true glimpse of him, we become safe Christians, staying within church boundaries, feeling safe and protected, forgetting scripture tells us an empty barn stays clean and makes no profit.  At 16 we were able to discuss, if not argue our differences, and still come away friends, why can’t we as a church do the same?

In New Ulm, Minnesota, a town of 16,000, they have six different Lutheran churches.  Do I make my point?  Do we not all share the same Jesus, or have we fractured him so badly we only see what we want to see?  We are all different, but it is Jesus that should make the difference.  I thought growing up and waiting to get a license at 17 was hard, now it looks easy compared to unity in the spirit.  I knew when I would be legal, are you waiting for an invitation to know Jesus?  To step out of religion and into life?  Is your life one style of music, just waiting and wanting to listen to another tune?  Do you only know what you are taught, or has your Christian experience gone deeper?  Are you the same person outside the church as you are in it?  What part of an abundant life in Jesus are you afraid of?

I learned the truth at 16, applying what I had been taught in school and having to apply it on the street.  Falling short many times, but growing as I went.  Jesus was an applications sort of guy, not a philosopher.  He dealt with human situations and advised on how to handle them.  Not try this to see if it works,  or maybe this might work, he was and isn’t theories about truth, he is the truth.  But all your knowledge is useless until it is put into action.  An old post card from a girl friend told me “quit wasting your time bragging about what a great lover you are, show me.”  Seems being 16 and saved are not much different, it will always be about performance.  I wished I could dance like Fred Allen did, or have the smooth words of my older friends, but I was stuck with me. The only me I could give to Jesus, and he changed me.  I still can’t dance, but now I appreciate it.  I still don’t have the moves, but at my age don’t need them.  But for 43 years my Jesus has put up with me, loved me,and taken me from religion and given me life.  I have come a long way from The Carpenters to knowing a Jewish carpenter as the true son of God.  If only I knew then what I do now....you don’t have to wait, you can have all the Jesus you need right now.  See, you can be “16 and beautiful, and be mine,” at any age.  Just keep the Clearasil handy...and did you know Rare Earth was the biggest white group on Motown. They only sounded black, do you only sound Christian?   And I still cannot dance.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com