fill 'er up, part 2

On the other side of town, there was another Gulf station, also in a neighborhood, but also on route 22, at the time one of the busiest highways in the US of A. Two guys I knew, Roger and Jimmy, were the night shift, and after getting kicked out of Bowcraft, we would venture across 22 and hang out there. And as we got older, this being a true service station, would bring our cars there to change the oil, balance tires, and do whatever else we could to them-without doing too much damage. It was owned by a man named Bart, who for whatever reason left these two in charge at night, and which left the door open for about six of us to hang out. Eddie, Brains, Spanky, Arnold the A%$^, and Gary who was too tall for the Navy would hang there. In return for letting us use the lift, we would do chores for Jimmy, while Roger would help us work on our cars. And we had some interesting cars to work on.

Jimmy was building a 55 Chevy with a tilt hood-it was fast, and painted Krylon flat black. Roger had a cherry 1966 Cutlass was Cragar SS, and sometimes Bruce Hill would stop by in his 1962 Fairlane, named the Patricia 2. When asked why he named his first car Patricia 2, he explained his girlfriend was Patricia 1-who could argue with logic like that? Plus he was state heavy weight wrestling champ! I had my parent's Pinto, and Spanky would drive his brother Willard's 66 GTO convertible-Willard was in Nam, and Spanky was only 15-not old enough to drive. Sometimes he would drive his own Renault Dauphine, with the black spray painted interior with silver stars- crude combination of French automobile and too little parental attention. We were borderline harmless, but oft time would cross the border, only to hurry back to safety before parents or police intervened.

Now Jimmy and Roger always talked badly of Bart. When they should have been thankful they even had jobs, as knowing them from school they weren't going to win any scholastic achievement awards. And they were always thinking of ways to cheese him off, and one night pulled off the perfect crime. The station had one of those old, low cash registers with he hand crank to open the drawer, and we all had access to it-and honestly never abused it when making change for the pop machine. But one night, after closing, the two took the cash register-but left the money. I had been there during practice runs, and they would leave all the coins and cash piled up just like they were in the register-except there was no register. And this is what Bart found one morning when he arrived to work. Which put him in an interesting situation, do I call the cops and report that my cash register was stolen? But how do I tell them they left the money? I could hear the Scotch Plains cops now, telling the story today, as it would have become an urban legend. But I believe Bart did the correct thing, and took the easy way out-he bought a new register, never mentioned a thing, but showed up every night for about a month, forcing us to flee to the pizza parlor after being run out of Bowcraft, while I'm sure his profits rose-all to the enjoyment of Jimmy-Roger just complained because he was half way through some engine work, and this curtailed it. But they had pulled of the perfect crime! How many cash registers have you ever heard of being reported stolen?

But they had violated a trust with Bart, and things went down hill fast from there. So I got a girlfriend, and all was well, actually better. But I am reminded of how a business man and the trust was broken. Now not much is ever said about the innkeeper when telling the story of the good Samaritan, we always concentrate on him, and how we was more compassionate than the others. Even getting a room for the beaten man, paying for it, but instructing the innkeeper to take care of him, and he would settle up next time through. Now maybe this good Samaritan was a regular, had good credit, and could be trusted. But the innkeeper was also a "good Samaritan"-he took care of the man. Yes, maybe just for profit, as a good businessman should, but he trusted the Samaritan to return, not knowing if he would be compensated. Maybe not as altruistic, but he showed faith and trust taking care of the beaten man. And without him the story would have had a different outcome. Maybe the owner, or just a night clerk, but he showed faith in taking care of a stranger, from another stranger-hoping the bill would be paid! It took two men, each doing what needed to be done, working together. A lesson we should remember, as sometimes God only wants us to do one step, and them pass the job onto another. Now, Route 22 may not have been the Bloody Road that the Samaritan found the beaten man on, but at that Gulf station I wonder if the beaten man would have been welcome. Or if they would have taken the money to assist, it never seeing the inside of the register? Fortunately, these two men had a trust, hopefully one not broken like at the station.

Today I can guarantee that someone will upset you, cheese you off, and want you will want to seek revenge-even if you do just by calling him names. Don't! Leave the cash, and the register alone. Although a funny story, and entered into the urban legend status, take the time to be known as the good innkeeper-the proper employee, and do the right thing. Remember Samaritans were looked down on-despised actually, but this one showed true character. Show compassion today, and you will find those around you will also. Plus it will be shown to you. But better yet, be an innkeeper, and when someone entrusts you with something valuable, don't betray that trust. Honor both the trust, and the person who entrusted you with it. And by doing so show compassion, just like Jesus shows for you. How many times a day does He show mercy? Every time, I believe.

Only God knows the true story behind the great cash register robbery. Be an innkeeper tonight to someone, as He knows your heart also. Full service isn't only for gas stations, but should be part of every Christians life. And a fair deal is where both parties benefit. Take that one to the bank, just be careful, and make sure the register is secure. Much better to be secure in Jesus. For He is no urban legend, but the truth!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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riding under the influence

As a biker, motorcyclist, and bikerider, there are five movies that have influenced my life-all about motorcycles of course. Each one portrays a different aspect of the motorcycling world, and each one have parts in it that are highly personal. Not seen in chronological order, but it seems the order I did see them was important in my life.

Easy Rider was on last night, and I can remember sitting through it three times at the Cinema when I first saw it. Not only was the music great, but the freedom that was shown by these two guys riding cross country, somehow I knew I would some day. So at age 21 I took off cross country by myself, and have never looked back. But as pretty as the west was, it was the south that captivated me, and on my first long trip, from NJ to Florida, encountered prejudice-real prejudice for the first time. Although I grew up near Newark, and next to Plainfield, and remembered the riots of 1967, I had never seen true bigotry. My first encounter was in 1974 in Georgia, where I held open a door at a KFC for a black women-and while the restaurant full of white diners looked at me, she said "sir, you don't have to do that, it's OK." And by her tone, and their glares, I didn't, but went in first-and never forgot the bigotry I saw that day. And every time I travel in the south, I am reminded of that day. In a movie all about freedom of spirit, and the road, it reminds me that only in Jesus can you truly be free.

Little Fauss and Big Halsy-a great movie, but hard to find. Robert Redford plays Halsey Knox, a womanizing, privateer racer, looking for a factory ride. In between one night stands, and races, he pals with Little Fauss, played by Michael J. Pollard, who is a better wrench and rider, and who eventually gets the factory ride-while Halsey gets Lauren Hutton. We all should be such gracious losers. Racing is more important, but I guess he could always pack her double. And you aren't always racing, as she gets pregnant. And for years my friends and I carried a toothbrush in our back pocket like Halsey did, thinking it was cool. Hoping to run into Lauren Hutton. And years later it was my intro to the racing world-where I found no one carried a toothbrush like that-except me. Lauren, where'd you go?

On Any Sunday-what can you say. The best movie to get the blood going and getting you off the sofa and out riding. Steve McQueen, motorcyclist and actor, as he liked to be known, Malcolm Smith, and Mert the Dirt are still heroes, and as I watch it again and again, remember the golden era of racing, before the factories took over, and it became a business. Made the same time as Little Fauss, it showed the real side of racing-and heroes that are still heroes today. And how many can remember that to get the #1 plate you had to compete in TT, short track, the mile, and road racing-back when to be a champion you had to win in them all? Fast shoes, who could do it all-the guys I still wish I was one of. Riding and racing because it was fun!

Ask my boys, who know all the lines, and the Wild One still makes a great impact. Johnny, my love, played by Brando, and Lee Marvin, as Chino-still get my blood going as I watch them scrambling with their clubs-"and after a long week, "as Johnny says, "you just gotta jam, you know pow!" And I do. And the feeling of the club with you, and the freedom of the ride-sometimes get to be too much. I just gotta go-pow! And every time I am in Malibu Canyon, can still see them making the right turn onto Mulholland Highway from Las Virgenes -long before the Rock Store was, but still, bikers truly understanding the brotherhood-and the freedom of the road. "What you rebelling against Johnny?" "Whatta ya got" And I can even wear my BRMC sweatshirt-if you gotta ask, you don't know. And the real reason we all used to go to Hollister, before it became a law enforcement weekend. Did you know the soundtrack is a legend among jazz types? Look it up-great music for in the cage when it's raining.

A customer who doesn't ride gave me World's Fastest Indian, and I'm glad he did. Anthony Hopkins plays Bert Munro to perfection, and watching as one man's dream becomes reality encourages me when I get down or behind. His commitment to go fast, and the brotherhood of other racers help him to attain his dream, show me I am on the right track.

For years I have said that I wish the church could understand brotherhood like the biking community does. We aren't perfect-either group, but each group is based on a single entity. Bikers on bikes, and Jesus is the heart of Christianity-without Christ there would be none. But as I get closer to God, my peer group becomes more Christ like-putting life into their style, and showing me how the family does understand true brotherhood. It's the posers-in church and on the road that don't get it, and unfortunately those are the ones most people remember. The news only shows someone in leather with loud pipes, and tells us that is a biker, but don't see they have families too, who have the same problems as the other citizens-death, taxes, and health issues. And I find very few real bikers who would be interviewed-why talk with the enemy, they'll get it all wrong anyway. And the world only sees when a Christian falls-in act they can't wait, it makes them fell better, but seldom show how they express the love of Jesus,except to deny Franklin Graham from leading a prayer on the National Day of Prayer. We wouldn't want anyone to show love would we? So I propose a movie, about Christian bikers, with all types of bikers in it-not just playing themselves, but being themselves. No posers-we know who you are! Toy rides, club runs, racers, cross country tours, scrambling, and just hanging with your pals. And how respect and brotherhood aren't left at the door, but taken out among the lost and dying. Just like Jesus did, and as He instructed us. "AS you go," He says, "preach the gospel." Show love, listen when you could be talking, and you may find that we are not all that different, and we all want the same thing. Freedom. And my prayer is that you find it in Jesus. He is the only way, the only truth, and the only life. Not rules-but freedom! Different from what religion has told you I'm sure!

I even have a title for it-On Any Sunday, the Wild Ones become Easy Riders! Until then, John 3:16 will have to do-read it and live it. True freedom was won at the cross-so we all can ride! Kick stands up!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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DUEL!

Probably one of the scariest things that can happen to you is being chased. Add the fear of actually being caught to that, and what can happen and nothing else comes close. Then add to that, a faceless, inanimate adversary, who you don't know, and wants to kill you, and you don't know why, and you truly know fear. Such is the premise for one of my favorite movies-and it's even in color, Duel. Steven Spielberg's first film, an ABC movie of the week, it is about a truck, whose driver we never see, chasing a timid man across the desert in his 1969 Plymouth Valiant, trying to kill him by running him off the road. For almost 90 minutes you are so scared you, you find yourself in the car with David Mann, trying to outduel the truck. I will not tell you the end-see it.

Theresa and I had our own Duel experience. In 1978, we lived in a cabin at Vallecito Lake, outside of Durango. No work, and our hearts were leaning towards ministry, so we answered an ad for house parents for Colorado Boys Ranch in La Junta, about 300 miles, and over the mountain from us. After talking with them, we decided to go for a interview, and drove our Rabbit. We were over Wolf Creek Pass in daylight, but by the time we hit Walsenburg, it was dark. Remember this was when the speed limit was 55mph, and cops would ticket you for 60, so we kept the pace down.

Now the road after Walsenburg is flat, straight , and nothing for about 100 miles. Not the place to break down, or as we found out, encounter a Duel-like trucker. We were running along at about 60mph, when a set of headlights came up on us fast. Staying a steady speed, we waited for them to pass, but they didn't, or more accurately wouldn't. This huge truck stayed on our tail, sometimes so close that his headlights illuminated the inside of our car, and sometimes so close you couldn't even see the headlights! It was an eerie feeling being followed/chased like that, and we got scared. At that time it was not unusual for truckers to take a lot of speed, and looking back this guy might have been strung out, nuts, suicidal, or just out to scare someone. It didn't matter-we were scared for our lives. Much of the time all I could see was a huge grill filling my rear window, and I even considered having Theresa shoot at the truck, taking out our rear window and his radiator. She even had the gun pointed. We eventually sped up to over 85mph, trying to outrun him, with no success, the truck still glued to our mirror, it's dark outside, and no place to pull off-all there was was high desert. Finally, with fear overtaking us, and no other way out, we pulled off at a high speed into the dirt and slammed on the brakes-as the tanker semi went by honking his horn. We sat for a few minutes to get our composure back, where are the cops when you need them?

Fortunately, the truck didn't turn around-another one of our fears, and we made it to La Junta safely-and shaken.

Your adversary the devil chases you looking to devour you. And sometimes the chase can be worse than the confrontation. We are reminded to not look back, ala Lot's wife, but sometimes when in fear all we can see is our past. And when we do, we often forget how God got us through things in the past. And how He will again, if we let Him. We are told to resist the devil and he will flee-good advice, but then to put on the things of God-a two step process. You see when the devil flees, it leaves a void, and there is always something, not always holy to fill it. So we need God to fill the void, to fill the vacancy created, and only He can.

Remembering that God is love, the best way to resist the devil is to love your enemy back. Now at the time I hated that trucker, it was the evil inside him I really hated. And we need to be reminded that our battle is not against people, but powers of evil. And the best way to resist him is to love your enemy. No shouting, or casting him out-Jesus already overcame him at the cross. Love your enemy! Hate the sin-not the sinner.

Unfortunately-society has it all wrong, and is watching our reactions. I hope you can disappoint them the next time, by not over reacting, but reacting in love. Walk your talk-resist the devil and he will flee! He cannot stand love-because God is love! And watch as the Lord deals with your situation unlike you would have in hate. Revenge is His business, and you don't mess with His children! And like most situations, the one who retaliates gets caught! Don't fall into the trap!

Trust Him today, no matter what is chasing you, whether a family matter, financial situation, joblessness, or a truck is gaining on you. Trust God! He is always one step ahead, but never too far that He can't be reached. He saved our lives on the road that night, somewhere in all our fear, He knew and our cry for help was answered.

By the way, we got the job-but didn't take it. God had something better for us, and gave us two sons to raise instead. That can be scary too! So turn your eyes upon Jesus today, and watch as the things of earth grow dim in the light of His glory and grace.

Make mine a ham and cheese on rye, R-Y-E! Watch the movie! But for the things of God, read the book!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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it's 1963, do you know where your parents are?

Theresa and I were talking the other night that we are so glad we don't have to date again. After 32 years of marriage, we have honored our commitment to each other, and it has honored us, and it has honored God. That doesn't mean it has been easy, but we honored that commitment, no matter the fight, and God has been gracious to us. We truly believe that God has made the two of us one, and I am thankful for the gift He has given me, just like He gave Eve to Adam. And it has made me a protector and respecter of her, as with the gift God tells me to love her like Jesus loves the church-a great equalizer for those men too foolish to realize that aren't her boss-but her co-equal! And although society seems to favor the man in many areas, the women have the final say many times.

Over 40 years ago, dating was different. Most young guys would hang out at the shop for awhile, bench racing until it was time for their haircut. A scheduled event, as when hair was shorter, you got it cut every other week, and had your favorite barber. The owner usually had the chair by the window, and for 75 cents you got a trim. And while waiting read through magazines forbidden at home like Esquire and For Men Only. You discussed things like if Kennedy was still president this Viet Nam thing wouldn't be out of control, new cars with bigger engines, and will anyone ever beat the Yankees. And how about Koufax and Drysdale? Could anyone imagine haircuts like the Beatles? Truly a male domain-without a female in sight-as it should be.

Women had their counter part-the salon. Where they would go to get beautiful, and discuss things like Liz Taylor, who just divorced her sixth, or was it seventh husband, and who would be her seventh, or was it eighth? Can you believe the new styles this year-wow! And how about those cute guys the Beatles-will my boyfriend ever get a haircut like that? OOOOOOOH! Truly a woman's domain, without men-as it should be.

And while the guys would polish their car, or their parents car if they were without, the girls went clothes shopping for their date that night. No one dated on Fridays-Saturday was the night. Especially if it was your steady.

But if not, you could tell a lot about the date by listening to the men talk. If she had one name, like Betty or Shirley, all the guys knew she was easy-and she never met your parents. A cheap date, in more ways than one. With more go than show, unlike your mom's sedan. But if she had two names, Like Suzy Smith, or Laura Jones, she had the possibility of being a steady, so you might invest in a burger after the movie. Just the opposite with the girls. You're going out with Greg Lane? Yuk-be careful. Much different from, so you're seeing Eddie again-he is so dreamy. Hang onto him!

And finally the big time came to pick up your date, in your clean and shiny car-hoping she would notice, but really shining it up for the guys. Girls just never noticed how much the hood shines in the dark, or how you had the radio buttons programmed to all the best stations. And your date would look all prim and proper-sweaters and skirts, the way it oughta be. Without the benefit of spandex, and not wondering if this skirt made her look fat, as clothes fit back then, and weren't worn two sizes too small. And as you held the door for her to get in, she was hoping you would notice, but really showing off for her friends. For most of us couldn't tell if it came from Kresges or Larkeys. And the smell of perfume making her so attractive-so notice! There will be a test later, well maybe just a quiz-open book!

And after a movie and a burger and Coke, you would go parking, finally getting the only benefit your mom's car had to offer over the Super Sport you desired-bench seats! Hopefully she wouldn't sit next to her door all night. And saving you a trip to the rear. And how could time could fly so fast when you were having so much fun? And not understanding how you had to have her home by midnight, you could get into just as much trouble before, and you had-sometimes. You were 16, a man, and it was truly a man's world, as you were in control, at least your date would let you think that-up to a point. You had picked the restaurant, the movie, and now the place to park. Based on her OK-of course. You were a gentlemen, hoping that she would be like a lady, until later. Relationships were made and kept based on these intimate moments. Some that would last through marriage, and beyond.

Your whole life is about relationships. With people, jobs, motorcycles, and hopefully God. Jesus tells us to seek His kingdom first, and all else will be added unto you. And you find this is true in all things, but really true in marriage. Just like Jesus is head of the church, men have head over their wives, not to control, but to encourage, and protect. True love demands a choice, and the wise husband chooses to love his wife this way. Even putting himself out, and putting up with her, as she does with him. Being strong when she is weak, and being there when she needs him. After God, she is his top priority, and he honors God by honoring her. And the closer to God he is, the more he loves his wife, and the more she responds. There will times she needs new clothes, or a trip to the beauty parlor. Greg Laurie says if the house needs paint, do it. Unlike my old friend Carl, who would drop his wife off at the beauty parlor for an estimate. The two have truly become one in Christ-and they will endure.

Things have changed in 45 years, but men and women still need each other. And still need Jesus. We may go to salons instead of barber shops, and I'm am so glad we don't have to park-I get tired after 930pm. But I am always glad to come home to the wife for life God has given me. I hope you do too. And you young guys and gals-seek Jesus now, and let Him guide you to that perfect mate. This can be the time of your life. Looks will fade, hair will fall out, and bucket seats will look better to you than a bench. But remember your first love-Jesus, and be the kind of husband your wife desires and she will be the wife of your dream. And you will have a peace that surpasses understanding.

Overheard a while ago, two women talking, about their long time husbands. When asked how she knew her husband still loved her and thought she was beautiful after all the years, she commented "whenever I bend over he never misses a chance to look down my shirt." May we all be so blessed, but look up first, seek God, and still desire our wives for years to come. And may they still find us as desirable. For God has said, "the two shall become one..." Still crazy after all these years-crazy about my wife.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

fill 'er up, part 1

My parents next door neighbor, Bill Del Nero, aka Willie, owned a service station with his brother Frank in the 60's and 70's. Notice I said service, not gas station, as these neighborhood stations not only provided gas, but had service bays to keep your car greased and oiled, to diagnose the noises you heard, and to do tune-ups. And a hangout for other gear heads on Saturday mornings. Work was performed on a personal basis, and it seemed everyone had one that they frequented. The Del Neros had a Gulf station, and they did pump a lot of gas, along with checking tire pressures, the oil, and washing the windshield.

One Sunday morning Willie called my dad. His Sunday afternoon guy would be out for a few hours, could I fill in from noon to 5? Sure, I was a freshman in high school, got mostly A's and B's,except for Miss Culhane, and was a starter on the basketball team. Plus it paid $10 for five hours of work. In this era of nickel candy bars, Twinkies for a nickel, comics for twelve cents, and Mad magazine for 35 cents-Cheap, I could live like a millionaire. And with no car or girlfriend, my money would be my own. Of course-and I was out the door.

Now a funny thing about experience is that you can't teach it. I had never pumped gas before, although I had often gotten 25 cents worth for my dad's mower, and had watched as my parents ordered $2 worth from the attendant. But never saw the oil checked-they were suspicious because pump jockeys were notorious for short sticking, and I think I might have seen him once check the air. And the closer I got to the service station, the more I realized I wasn't in ninth grade, and my grades didn't matter here. But the guy who was leaving was cool, gave me the key to the register, and he was off. Leaving me alone-I mean ALONE, to run the place. And it seems the bell signaling someone in the drive never stopped ringing. Fortunately all was done on a cash basis, but learning which side the filler was on, learning how to not have a digit removed from the license plate springing back on the filler located behind it, and washing the windows was easy. I even managed to check the oil on a few cars, all OK. But some dude threw me a curve when he asked me to check his trans fluid. DUH! So I pulled the dipstick by the trans-good thinking, and checked it like I did the oil. Full, he was ready to go, paid, and was off. It was later when my tortuous shift was over that I read in one of the magazines laying around you do it with the car running, and that there are two types. So I worried for two days, that this guy's tranny would blow up because I hadn't checked it right.

Willie paid the $10, thanked me and said I had done a good job. But for a few days I was afraid for a knock on the door from him. "There's a guy here whose transmission blew up from lack of fluid-he said you had checked it and it was OK." And there would go my $10, my reputation, and my chance to do it again. But I still had my A's and B's, and was a starter on the basketball team. And still had Miss Culhane for English.

Jesus tells us in Luke of some fisherman, who after fishing all night, and catching nothing, washed their nets and were going home-hungry and empty netted. When He suggested they throw their nets off the right side, they reluctantly did, and found them filled to overflowing-in fact it took three boats to take in the catch. But He was preparing these men-His disciples for catching something else, to be fishers of men. And they needed His training, for all the previous experience would not work with souls-only soles. And without the spirit guiding them, they would accomplish nothing. Experiences you can't teach, they must be experienced! But they had to follow the spirit-Jesus to do things they had never done before, and this took faith, and commitment. No more stories about the one that got away, or sleeping in on Sundays. It was personal with them, and their past did not prepare them for where they were going, and going to do. Like these fisherman, we too get stuck in a religion, when we need a relationship. Filling a pew, and stinking it up is a religion, where Jesus offers us a relationship. And it takes participation on our part, and choices to make. You say "I've been healthy all my life, I can't have cancer. We've been married 30 years, she can't leave me. I've worked here for 20 years, and am a manager, they can't let me go." Or "I've been a member of this church since I was a kid, I know all about God, even taught Sunday school. I don't need this Jesus thing." And you would be wrong! For experience doesn't prepare us for failure, or how to handle situations of the heart. You need to see the creator, and Jesus is the only way to His father! He can and will take you through cancer-restore a rocky marriage, and take care of you when you are jobless. And He wants to do it-personally. And like the fisherman, will show you the way-but only if you listen and trust Him.

Willie trusted me, and I hope I didn't let him down. Today let down your nets, let Jesus fill them, and watch as you do things, go places, and experience life like you never knew possible. A full service God in a self service world. I would call that a bargain.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

been there-done that, got the shirt to prove it

This is for all of you who, when came down dressed to go out, were greeted with "you're going out in that?" And to those who are so used to hearing " I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit." This is dedicated to those of you forced to wear a tie, and actually thinking it makes you look good. Reality check. And to those of you with over 100 t-shirts in your closet, but have nothing to wear to the next rally, so go out and buy another. Remember these condescending words always come from someone who loves us, but can't believe we are so vainfully ignorant of the proper shoes to go with the right purse. Please, what color doesn't go with denim? Or black leather?

To those of you, who like my friend Mark, believe there are only two colors a leather jacket can be, both black-help is on the way. Not in your wardrobe, but how to handle these vanity laden, socially ignorant, non-biker types. To those of you who think Von Dutch is a clothing company, and don't realize he is the father of custom painting. Real name Kenny Howard. And don't realize Hollister is the home of the American biker, not another clothing line. Posers-pay attention, you may learn something.

The last two years of Torches Across America I was the spokesman. And we always started from Kennedy's Custom Cycle in Oceanside, and Mayor Jim Woods came out and saw us off. The first year, he showed up in a three piece suit. Fit right in, just not with bikers. If we painted him pink he would not have stuck out more. When I introduced him, I commented on his outfit, and how the only three piece suits most bikers see are when they are in court, and the trust factor may be more tolerant if he didn't wear one. He laughed with us, knowing it was in good humor, and removed his tie. We all laughed, and Jim felt more at ease.

The next year, he comes up to me at the send off wearing a Hawaiian shirt, with his expensive slacks. "Look Mike, I'm not wearing a tie!" We all laughed as we told him his taste was getting better, and we were glad he made the effort to associate with us. Later on the trip, we are in Cambridge, Ohio, great town and people. The mayor, comes out, in a three piece suit. And while standing next to me, I tell the story of Mayor Jim. And the crowd starts laughing. Now my jokes weren't that funny, and my fly wasn't open, so I looked to see why they were laughing. And the mayor, had taken off his tie and sport coat, and put on his leather vest-he was a biker too!

And finally on that same ride, we were in Shanksville at the Chapel for the fifth anniversary of Flight 93 and 9-11. We had just finished the ceremony with the lieutenant governor of Pennsylvania, when she steps out of the crowd and pokes me in the chest. "Hey, I'm one of you, my husband and I both ride Harleys!" And suddenly her uniform and badges didn't matter, she was a biker. She was one of us. And all of us bikers, most of the crowd at that point started visiting with her, openly and informally, while mixing with her bodyguards too. No pressure, they felt safe in a crowd of bikers, leather, denim, and t-shirts, and all.

There is a freedom not found in the law that allows us to be who we want to be, and better yet can be. Only in Jesus is this freedom found, and sadly not in some churches. I have been pointed to the back row before because of my leather jacket. But why, does Mrs. So and So sit up front in her Gucci leather? My t-shirt may not have a religious message, so why do I get secondary seats? Have you seen the price of biker shirts lately? They ain't cheap. Perhaps the lesson here is not to prejudge people. Not a new problem, people in Jesus time did it too, and He warned them about giving priorities to the better dressed, or monied people. He also warned that these were the men who took you court and sued you. See, I was quoting scripture to Mayor Jim. Trendiness has a price, in that styles change, but Jesus never does. Better than leather and denim, He has been in style for 2000 years. Love never changes-is that cool or what? And is not impressed by what you wear, but about your heart. That no clothes can cover, we all see through them. Can you imagine Mary or Joseph confronting Jesus, "you going out in that tunic?" What will the Pharisees say? And His answer, "I'm wearing another cloak over it, in case someone needs it." He is so cool. You see real style comes in what are actions, attitudes, and words say about Jesus. A light that you cannot put under a cover-whether it is silk or leather. Clothes don't make the man-Jesus does. An idea to remember next time you consider your clothes for the evening.

Who are you trying to impress? Pride can be subtle. If you see me, impress me with your love for others. Maybe even be nice, ask where did I get the new t-shirt? And don't look down at those who aren't dressed as well. You see knowing Jesus makes you cool, and no outfit, regardless of the label can change that. Check your pride at the door.

"You going out in that? To church?" Yes, and it's the love of Christ that we wish to display. So wear Him everywhere. Openly. Never out of style, nor condescending, nor expensive. He fits any and every occasion. Freedom from style. A life style.

Don't even get me started about Von Dutch shirts or torn jeans for the fashion conscious. Again, bikers have been in style for years, we were just too cool to comment. You wouldn't have gotten the message anyway. But don't ever miss the chance to make a statement about the love of Christ. Just might find you are starting another trend-love. Let me know when the shirts are available.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

weight is the enemy

You may not know or even have heard the name Raymond Loewy, but I'll bet you have had contact with him. As the premier industrial designer of the twentieth century, he brought form to anything from mimeograph machines, to locomotives, to Studebakers. But his crowning achievement is his design for the Coca Cola bottle and its famous shape-he was the one who designed it-a trade marked design that has lasted over 80 years. A design that he made identifiable with the female shape, both shapes being more form than function. Among his trade mark designs are Shell gasoline and the Lucky Strike logo. Furniture, houses, even appliances bear his mark. His mark is recognized in cars, trains, and busses also. And among classic car hobbyists he is best remembered for the 1953 Studebakers, the Loewy coupes as they are still referred to today, and the Avanti, which was designed over a long weekend in Palm Springs by a crack crew of designers under his supervision. A design that still continues today, as a small company still produces Avantis in limited number. Loewy was very creative, but also as an engineer knew the physical properties of good design. On his desk was a plaque that read "WEIGHT IS THE ENEMY!" And he preached this to all his designers. And it still is today.

It is rumored that when Ford came out with their new Thunderbird in 1989, it exceeded the target weight, and men were fired. Weight means money, which takes bigger engines to get the same performance, which means more emissions-too much weight=less performance, and a higher cost. Ask a production manager, he understands. Ask Mercedes Benz and their race team back in the 30's. They got the nickname Silver Arrow because they removed all the paint from the car to lose weight, leaving only the shiny aluminum skin. Ever hear of a race car wanting to add weight because it was too fast or light? If you think paint doesn't weigh much, pick up a gallon. Help, please? In an industry where weight is measured in ounces, weight loss in pounds is a lot.

A motorcycle test was run in 1983 using a 1983 Honda 650 Nighthawk. The purpose was to show how weight impacted performance. Taking the same bike, but using two test riders, one at 150 pounds, the other at 276. Both pros, but the heavier rider took more than a half second longer, at a slower speed to get through the quarter mile. Ride a dresser, then a sport bike. Which is faster, nimbler, and brakes better? Weight is the enemy. Just ask any Gold Wing rider who has dropped his bike. Or how on a smaller bike because they can control the weight they might not have, so they didn't have to find help picking it up after.

Today we are deluged with ads about being overweight. So we spend billions on exercise equipment, special diets, and club memberships to make us look better. But do little to remove the weight we carry internally. And no matter the physical shape, your spiritual shape matters more. Jesus, that old yoke builder, who just happened to be the messiah, put it simply when he said "take my yoke for it is easy." You see we carry burdens in our harts, that they were not designed to carry. Stress, fear, sin, and lust-all have no place in our hearts-they only cause heart disease and lessen the quality of life. So take the advice of one who can help, Jesus. Burdened by too much house payment-give Him your burden. A family relationship falling apart-He'll take it. Unemployed, or worse yet under employed? He will take the weight in each and all situations. You see weight-the burden of sin is truly the enemy-and only through God's grace and forgiveness can you lose this weight.

Has the word diet shown up in your spiritual intake lately? Have you asked God to help you shed the weight of sin, and the burden it causes? Don't start tomorrow, right now is the day of salvation. Shed the weight, and find how it effects you physically too. You see we all suffered from heart disease until we came to Christ-we had the weight of sin on our hearts. And using no surgery, pills, exercises, or equipment He removed it. So what are you weighting for?

Take the example of Raymond Loewy-WEIGHT IS THE ENEMY! In all his designs he chose to leave a high visual retention-you would remember the product. Practice what any first year engineering student is taught, and what Jesus knew about 2000 years ago. But don't let WAIT be your enemy. Let Him make a strong spiritual retention in your life-an eternal one! Seek Jesus now! Weight to go! Way to go!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

unto thee is given...

I know they didn't invent it or start it, but I blame Hallmark anyway for perpetuating it. It being the endless stream of useless holidays, and inane celebrations. Those days which mean nothing to nobody, but yet Hallmark reminds you to send them a card. But the ones I really hate are the ones that have a "shower" attached to them, with the worst being a house warming or apartment warming-because of the gifts you receive. And perhaps the worst gift ever invented, then given, and never used, has to be the toaster oven.

We all have had one somewhere along the line, and is nothing we would buy for ourselves-but yet feel the need to inflict this painful device on someone else. It neither toasts, nor ovens, and the last one I had was a real exercise in futility. With no gauges or lights, you guessed when your toast was done, or more familiarly you waited for the burnt toast odor. And I can remember when Andrew liked the frozen mini-pizzas for about a week, you never knew when it had reached the set temp, and either had a hard, semi-frozen mess, or it was burnt-see toaster results. The perfect gift to take up precious counter space, that seemed to be standard in every home 30 years ago, but no one ever claimed to use, or have used. And one day we had finally had enough-and fought back.

After years of putting up with this space robbing, toast burning, annoying device, we fought back. Rather than just throw it away, we took it into the back yard, and we each took turns beating it with an ax! Until it was pieces of broken glass and twisted metal. And felt better relieving our home of this curse! And got renewed encouragement of our convictions when the next door neighbor, who had been watching from his kitchen window yelled "hit it for me too, I have one of those *$^#@^ things too!" And a tradition was started, and whenever a toaster didn't, or can opener wouldn't, out came the ax. But never, no never was there ever another toaster oven. One to a family... the curse was over. And to whoever gave us the one we had-I hope you receive one yourself, and soon-the gift that keeps annoying, and annoying...

But all gifts are not useless, many have forethought, which sometimes might not be evident at their giving. When Jesus was born some 2000 years ago, fortunately they didn't have toaster ovens. But the wise men-note-there weren't three of them, woe to those of you getting history from a song-brought some unusual and expensive gifts for a child that was born in a feeding trough, in a cave, to a couple of teenagers. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh-now why would a child want these, and what would be their purpose? But God, as Jesus' father, knew exactly what His child would need, and who He was and would grow up to be, and when taking that into consideration, it all becomes clear. Gold represented the fact that Jesus was a King-King of the Jews, but also King of Kings. What better gift for a king! The frankincense represented the fact that He was our high priest, and was the precious aroma of love and honor unto God, his father. Both those would be understandable, and welcome-who doesn't want their child to grow up and become successful? But the myrrh, why? That was for embalming and preparing the dead for burial. Why give a newborn this gift? There again God knew-just like John3:16 tells us. He sent His son to die in our place and save the world from its sin. A baby dressed in swaddling clothes-strips of cloth used to wrap the dead, and then the gift of myrrh-predicting the reason why Jesus came to earth. The perfect gift from a loving Father, via a loving son, to a lost and dying world. A statement that no card, Hallmark or other could ever fully represent, but faithfully remembered in the gospels. A simple statement of love.

But it is a gift, and Jesus must be accepted to receive its fullness. And it starts with a decision to let Him into your life. And to celebrate Him through your new life-everyday. No need to wait for Easter or Christmas-you can enjoy Him everyday! And the gifts that He showers on you via His spirit as you walk in His love and truth. Grace He calls it, along with mercy. And it is new every morning-which is good because I seem to use up all the mercy from yesterday! And I need more today!

Jesus Christ-the hallmark of the church-spend time with Him today! The gift that keeps on giving-and don't expect any toaster ovens! The only showers you can expect from Him are showers of joy! And who couldn't use a little more counter space in their lives-for love?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

did they ever call Him Little Joe?

I have always liked Albuquerque. The largest city in the Land of Enchantment, it still has a small town atmosphere to it, just like it did 35 years ago when I first moved there. When you talked of motorcycle shops you knew them by their name, but referred to them by who owned them. Gary Guynes owned the newer Kawasaki shop on Juan Tabo. Bobby J, well simple enough, still in business today as Bobby J's Yamaha. The Bodwells owned Motorsport, where I worked as my first job in Albuquerque, and Jake Alcon was the Harley dealer. And for Laverda, and or BSA/Triumph, there was Joe Turney on Lomas, although everyone knew Mary ran the shop. Henry and Ilse Rissman owned the Guzzi shop on north 4th open on Sundays, a rare treat, as all others except for Motorsport kept the traditional closed on Sunday and Monday schedule.

And when you wanted a Suzuki, you would call David at Motorsport. Which is how I had my second contact with the Unser family. The first was through Cindy, Bobby's daughter, who hung out with a group of friends that worked at Montgomery Plaza. But before he was Little Al, he was just Al Unser, Jr., and I sold him his first dirt bike-a 1976 Suzuki RM125. He had called David, and David let me handle the transaction, with him and Al, Sr. Nice people, legends already, and although they had more Indies to win, they were a normal father and son. Albuquerque citizens, who happened to ride-and race. I wonder sometimes how hard it must be to come from a famous family, or one where everybody knows your name. Like Cheers, but on a racing circuit schedule, where winning was everything. Just mention the name Unser in Albuquerque today, and they know who you are talking about-even have a street named after them.

We find a young Jesus, in His early teen years, faced with the same dilemma. He was hanging out in the synagogues, learning and commenting on scripture, with the priests, when they were amazed at His knowledge. "How can Joe the carpenter's kid know so much? His dad is just a yoke builder." Little being said about his real father, or even His birth. Just Joe's kid. Just like Little Al was Big Al's kid. Both with a family lineage the locals could attest to. And we find the Unser legacy going back to Little Al's grandfather, who also was a racing legend, a Pikes Peak hero and record setter. Three generations of Unsers-35 years ago.

Going through the family Bible I got from my grandmother, it has the birth and death records. Just a few short generations ago, the Bible was used for such records, and was taken to be a legal document for them. You could trace genealogies back as far as they were recorded, just by reading the family Bible. And in that Bible, you could also trace the unique genealogies of Joe's kid, Jesus. Through both Mary and him. And they are the most unique genealogies in the world. For when Nero was emperor, he burned Rome, and along with it the libraries and legal records. All records and histories of anyone born before the fire were lost forever, with only the lineage of Jesus of Nazareth remaining, in the Word of God, aka the Bible. A lineage that shows that no one else can prove they go back to King David, or Adam, or anyone in between, but has the royal lineage that scripture foretold of, and that Jesus fulfilled. Josephus and other historians can account for His life via dates and events-but only the Bible takes into account His family lineage. Something to consider next time you decide to step over the long list of begats when reading through the Bible. God put them there for a reason-more proof of the uniqueness of His only, begotten son.

Joe's kid, the carpenter-but much more. And we can be also, when we choose Jesus in our lives. We become adopted sons and daughters-with full inheritance and full riches and glory. We can call God daddy, just like Jesus used to. He wants it that personal. Abba father. And the same heavenly rewards.

Jesus Christ-son of God! King of Kings! And the only man on earth who could ever prove His lineage back to Adam. Wouldn't it make sense to trace your lineage to Him? Who do you say he is? Your answer is a family affair-God's family. Hope I can call you brother-or sister! And yes, you can call Him DAD!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

you meet the nicest people at second service

It's springtime, when a young man's fancy turns to love... and all men's fancy turns to motorcycles. And after a long winter, the first warm days, and fresh smells remind us that the wait hopefully was worth it. And as we anticipate riding again, reflect on the stories and ads we read all winter to fend off the blues. With that, let's reflect on the spring of 1972, and see why this was a particularly exciting time to be in love.

The Brits were down to Triumph and Norton. BSA, once the best selling bike in the world, had merged with Triumph, and when the Rocket 3 failed to sell, bet their future on Triumph and the Trident. Essentially a 500 Daytona engine and a half, they were fast, handled great, but were expensive-more than $400 more than the competition. And with the right hand shift, put many a Jap bike rider on edge, or over the handlebars when they stabbed what they thought to be the rear brake, and found the shifter. Ask the driver of the car whose trunk I landed on, it also wasn't good for PR. Your other choice was Norton, and if you had the guts, went with a Commando with the Combat motor. Shifting one up, the rest down, again adding excitement, as if their bikes weren't exciting enough. And fast!

BMW was in the third year of their redesigned line, featuring 500-600-750cc bikes, engine displacement the only difference, and the performance that goes with it. And new this year were chrome panels on the gas tank, earning it the title of Toaster-not affectionately either. Add shaft drive, an unusual opposed twin motor, and keyless starting-you stuck a rod or anything else in the hole on the headlight and it would start. But with shaft drive, the Cadillac of bikes-when Cadillac meant something. British what? No Bavarian-poser.

But this was the era, a golden era of Japanese bikes, as the big four were bursting with ideas, styling and performance. Honda was still the king, with its CB750, 4 cylinders, disc brake, electric start, and handling-things only found on a racer just few years ago, all for under $1600-the bike that broke the Trident's heart. Kawasaki was fielding triples-the Mach I 500cc, fastest thing on two wheels, until its big brother, the 750cc Mach IV came along. Both were three cylinder, 2 strokes-ring a ding ding! Fast, noisy, with no handling at all, but from 0-100 gave you the thrill of your life. And at $995 for the Mach III, you could be riding the quickest bike for less money! The Wildman had one-get yours now before they are gone. And soon they would be, as two strokes were going away, and next year Kawasaki would turn the motorcycle world on its ear with the Z-1! 903cc's! But you have to wait till next year.

Suzuki also had a three cylinder 750, but it was water cooled, the first mass produced bike to do so. And also was a 2-stroke. With its finless motor, radiator, and low rumble-not quite a ring a ding ding, it was fast, smooth, and comfortable. And advertised as a touring bike, no less. The aptly named Water Buffalo would last until 1976, when Suzuki also set the motorcycle world on its ear with a new 4-stroke 750, which was almost as fast as the original Z-1! What an exciting time! And lastly Yamaha fielded a 650cc twin, a copy of a BSA/ Triumph. That would go onto fame in flat track racing, and today has a collector appeal of its own. And finally AMF/Harley Davidson-yup, you read it right. coming off a year where they sold out of the first factory custom, the Sportster was still their fast bike-and for the real men in the group it came kick start only if you so desired. But for the true biker, the 74 was the way to go. Don't know that model? Hint-74 cubic inches, or 1200cc. Biggest, most macho ride you could own! From the company that sells bowling balls and diving gear. But-they would be back. And check out what a used Harley 74 is worth today-your $2000 investment in that would be better than gold-and more fun! Yes, after a long winter, anyone with less than $2000 could explore any of their pent up dreams. Maybe they should rewrite the old saying-we know what we really looked for come spring-then and now.

1972 was also a year in which the Jesus Movement was still gathering speed. Starting in the late 60's, as God's response to the hippie/free love movement, it found a following all over the country, but particularly in Costa Mesa, California, where Chuck Smith, a pastor for 17 years in a mainline denomination, followed God's calling instead of a denomination's, and took over Calvary Chapel. Taking God's advice, and teaching through the Bible, verse by verse, thousands of hippies, bikers, and other outcasts found the true love of Jesus Christ. And at a time when the Viet Nam War was tearing the US apart, Jesus was bring them together via His holy spirit. A new found freedom was found in Jesus, where no drugs, or even motorcycles could take you. Long hair-ok. No suits or ties-come as you are. Music-well the hymns are ok, but a whole generation started to worship Jesus using their music-more personal, and above all-NO RULES! Follow Jesus, using the Bible, and watch as your heart changed. And your old bad habits went away. And hearts did, and where mainline churches were in decline, the Jesus movement filled churches-Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa still runs three Sunday morning services of 3000+! Bob Dylan had sung "The times they are a changin'" but it was really hearts that were. And that same Jesus is still available today-right now in fact! Bummed out, confused? Jesus is the answer. Lonely-you'll never have a better friend. Freaky? He'll transform your heart, and your life. You see long before the toy, or the movie-Jesus was and is the original transformer. Even talks about it in Romans!

Jesus took a generation without hope, and changed it. Look around, couldn't we all use a little hope?

Today a 1972 CB750 can run you several times more than it originally cost new. Try to find a Mach III or IV-better investment than gold. BMW still stands for broke my wallet. Technology-no. Memories-yes. And Jesus Christ. Still the same. He paid the price for your soul, all you have to do is give Him your life. You see all I had to offer Him,was my brokenness and strife-and He made something beautiful out of my life.

Still ridin'-and still ridin' with Jesus. It just don't get any better! And the Jesus movement is still alive and well. Jesus Christ-the same yesterday, today, and forever. Some things should change-like your old Honda. Aren't you glad He is the same? Perfection, in any generation...ours!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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...where at least I know I'm free...

Bert Parks is legendary for singing "here she comes, Miss America..." in reference to a woman. But in recent days, due to world and national events, I find I MISS AMERICA! And I don't want too-I want her back!

You see, I remember as a kid Memorial Day parades, with old ladies and men selling poppies, in memory of those who died in battle. I remember old soldiers, marching at the end of the parade, but never knew the price they and there fellow servicemen paid. Men with stories to tell, to encourage and remind us of the horrors of war-and the price of freedom.

I remember growing up, and opening the school day with a Bible reading, a prayer, the Pledge of Allegiance, and then singing a patriotic song. And being told at an early age, you too can grow up to be president some day. And how you were reminded if you worked hard, got good grades, and lived a moral life, you too could exceed your potential and your dreams in life. You too could be president!

Then I remember Viet Nam, and being 364 out of 365 in the lottery. I remember friends who went over, and had friends who never came back. I remember my friend Frank, a pacifist put into infantry, when asked if he ever killed anyone, saying "no one I ever met." And I can remember the dishonorable end to the war, and men and women who fought to preserve liberty at all costs, being blamed for a loss which they didn't incur, but were sacrificed by politicians with no morals, and definitely no courage. Men who gave it all, and even sadder those who went off, were lost and never found. Over 1800 in Nam, added to the over 73,000 in WWII, lest we forget. Over 75,000 families shaken to the core of never knowing their loved one's outcome. And I started to miss America, land that I love. And I began to lose hope in my America.

My hope was renewed by President Reagan-whose definition of the Cold War was "we win-you lose." Who made us feel good again to be Americans, and remember that when God shed His grace on thee, it was a gift and responsibility that He gave us to share with others. And that leadership came from character, not opinion polls. And character was how we reacted under pressure, and when we thought no one was watching. Once again reminding me that as an American we owe a debt of gratitude to the Lord, and need to share it with others-no matter of color, creed, race, or nationality. That freedom demands sacrifice, and of the thousands who gave their lives in that belief.

I remember riding Torches Across America, and meeting so many who fought for our freedom. And riding into Troy, Illinois, escorted through Cub Scouts waving American flags, and thanking God through my tears for this country. And being in awe, that people still did care, and how the news was lying to us. Americans were blessing God! As I went to Shanksville the first time, and watched a man step out of the crowd one 9-11 morning, and spontaneously sing the National Anthem, we all sang along, and how it felt good to be an American. And remembering the 40 heroes on Flight 93, people I have gotten to know because I have met their families, and laughed and cried with them. Americans called into battle that morning, who rose to the challenge and defeated evil. Some who gave all. I think of my dear friend Father Al, keeper of the Flight 93 Memorial Chapel, and how the vision God gave him still brings hope to so many who are hurting and confused, who are drawn to the Chapel and receive healing and are consoled by a loving God.

I remember on the fifth anniversary of 9-11, waiting in a tent designed for 250 people, how 500 of us huddled inside it in the rain, waiting patiently for the families to arrive. And when they did, how the Northstar Kids burst into song, and we all sang along, with tears running down our faces "I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free..."

And yesterday while at the Travelling Wall, which is so much more than a replica of the Wall in Washington, it became very personal, and moving to me. And I got an insight to the pain and loss that many have suffered, those who have lost ones-heroes who died in battle. There on a plaque, under those lost in Afghanistan, was Captain Joshua C. Meadows-September 5, 2009. And it became personal, as I know his family. Not well, they are friends of Theresa and Kelly-Riley's parents, and how we tried to console them when they got the news. And when I think of his wife Angela, and I see the pictures of his new daughter, Olivia, pictures he never got to see, I am reminded of how all gave some, but some gave all. I now knew a some, and that made a difference. Now it's personal.

Years ago at a Hollister Rally, the Wall was there, and as Theresa and I sat on benches in front of it, God put on our hearts to listen and pray. A man came up, and took me over to the wall, and showed me his friend's name. Then shared precious memories of him with me. A man I never met, now was my friend, and I felt his loss, for his friend now was mine also. And as we talked through the tears, I remembered a battle 2000 years ago. In which the enemy thought he had won. And for an instance, all hope was gone. But when they checked the tomb, it was empty. For our Lord Jesus had defeated death. And I thought of Jesus, and how victory-freedom-was won that day on the cross. And how knowing Him is personal, and someday when we get to heaven every tear will be wiped away. And as I held this man in my arms, all I could do was listen, hug, and weep with him. Just like Jesus does for us.

Today the battle you face may not be life threatening, but Jesus gave His life to give you life. But you need to ask Him in. An old soldier reminded me yesterday when he saw my John3:16 shirt of how those words, along with his mothers prayers, got him and his friends through the battles in the Pacific. And how Jesus Christ made a difference in his life then, and still does now. 25 words-the gospel, so simple any man can be given eternal life. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall have eternal life and never perish."

My heartfelt thanks to the many who gave some, and my condolences to those and their families who gave all. I am so glad I have given my life to Jesus, who still continues to give all-who defeated sin and death, in a battle we still remember every day. God bless America! America-Bless God! Let's pray!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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first time your fault, second time mine

It has been almost 20 years, but the lessons learned that day still remind me of why I don't camp-or boat. And why I prefer two wheels to four wheels, or no wheels and a keel. A couple from the church we attended invited us to go to the river with them. Looking to meet other couples-they had two kids like us, we decided to accept their invitation to a weekend at the river. They had all the camping equipment, and a boat, and Theresa jumped at the idea of water skiing. So we packed what we needed, and I would ride out and meet them after work. Theresa and the boys would ride out in their van, and even I was excited. At least I got to ride.

I arrived just as it was getting dark, and was starved. Grilled anything sounded good, and I could smell the fish, burgers, and chicken grilling as I looked for our campsite. Unfortunately, this was the best part of the night-looking. Robert had parked his van so that it was on a hill, but left it in neutral, why no one knows, and it had rolled into a neighboring camper. The scooters they brought-locked onto the front of the camper, were there to stay-he forgot the key to the lock to remove them. The campsite was good for them, they were in the camper. But they had pitched the tent-our torture chamber on gravel. Well, that's unfair to gravel. It was pieces of sidewalk that had been jack hammered. Gravel would have been deluxe accommodations. And of course starving, I asked what was for dinner. Sandwiches. Huh? After all the aromatic temptations before me, after 200 miles of riding starved with visions of BBQ dancing in my head, I was given a bologna sandwich-on white. And some disgusting chips.

At least there would be S'mores-I could eat the graham crackers. As Theresa's favorite three course meal, chocolate, marshmallow, and graham cracker, she was starved too. And the kids were anxious, and then disappointed when we each were handed a 1/4 piece of a S'more. Not enough to even leave a taste in my mouth. So with a headache from hunger, miles from a 7-11, and listening to my family grumble-we went to bed early-tired enough that at least for a couple hours sleeping on the broken sidewalk chips didn't matter. Did I mention, no munchies, they also were in charge of food!

Up early the next day, on the water by 6am, we headed for breakfast. In their boat. Now I don't do water, so I asked what do you want me to do? Sit in the back, so I did. Raising the nose of the boat, but hey I was obeying orders. We stopped for breakfast-diner not open yet, so ate cupcakes, and Twinkies. Then back to the boat, where I resumed my position at the rear. Robert opened up the throttle and nothing happened-high rpms, but no movement. And sadly, it only occurred to me that I was the problem. We were stuck on a sandbar, and I was like an anchor-dead weight keeping us from moving. So while Robert is diagnosing the problem with the motor of the boat, and while my family is wondering when the torture will end, I silently sat up, and moved forward. At which point, the boat shot forward under full throttle, knocking everyone down, and sending my breakfast over the edge. I seriously considered mutiny, but my headache was so great, I got on my bike and rode home. Theresa and the boys stuck due to no transportation, but somehow got home that night.

Lessons learned. Don't ride with someone else-take your own car. Also, there are side effects to all actions. Just like the warnings on the drug commercials, there are side effect to your actions. We all meant well, just that stupid is not the way to travel, or camp, or boat, or.... And God knows this. So He set it up easy for us, or at least me. When in the spirit, you receive love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, long suffering, meekness, and self control as fruits of your labors. Stuck in the situation we never should have been in we experienced just the opposite. Bitterness, anger, stupidity, rudeness, long suffering-how did that get onto both lists?, selfishness, and being out of control. The side effects that can sometimes be more dangerous than the effects themselves. For we instantly learned why no one went camping with them for a second time, they had even commented on that, but they had no clue.

Today in your daily events, consider the other guy, and how your decisions will impact them. Do they reflect the fruit of the spirit, or are they rooted in selfishness? Do you obey God, or your desires? Are you still getting the same results because you are doing the same thing? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing, but expecting different results. The fruit you bear will influence others-be mindful of that. And be patient with others who don't get it. Remember Luke 3:8, produce fruit in keeping with repentance-good word for that day! And any day!

As for me and my family-we will ride motorcycles. Eat when and where we want. That is why we travel alone. And hopefully avoid my second trip to the river. Today you will bear fruit, by choosing the correct vine you will be assured the best of the crop. Jesus is that vine, and when we are wrapped into Him, we produce good fruit. And good fruit will produce more good fruit. Consider the other guy, as God considers you. Just might change the whole day-or at least the plans for it. Take note-the side effects may be right in front of you after all. And I think I understand long suffering-and why it is on both lists...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

letting the good times roll

When growing up, I'd like to think that I was as normal as any other kid. And that included hiding magazines under my bed-really between the mattress and box spring-so that my parents wouldn't find them. Not Playboy-I got that one, and not the car magazines. But the forbidden fruit in my magazine library was anything to do with motorcycles. While other kids were busy hiding various skin mags, I had to hide Cycle, Cycle Guide, Cycle World, and the various smaller trade mags that were popular. And while other teens dreamt of Playmate of the Month, I dreamt of Mach III's, Commandos, and CB750's. And was I ever a sucker for the ads.

Remember the Norton girls, always dressed in a skimpy, yet stylish outfit the same color as the bike? Who could resist fast girls and bikes? Harley showed us the Night Train, and ways out of town-even a mini-bike called the Shortster! Triumph told us we were enthusiasts, and needed their bikes to appreciate handling. You met the niciest people on a Honda-and in your wildest dreams, dreamt of a girl who loved bikes as much as you! Did you ever Solo Suzuki? I remember the ads on WABC radio, with Cousin Brucie, or HOA-Herb Oscar Anderson making motorcycle noises after the theme song. But for most of us, the thrill was in the words "some day," as my parent hated them, and I was still too young to get one and move out. So here I was stuck, noticing girls, who didn't like being noticed, and noticing motorcycles-two forbidden fruits. The fact that one older kid told us that riding was almost as good as sex, and you could do it more often, only made the illusion grander, as no one I knew had done either one. But after looking at the ads, girls would have to wait. Sadly, so did motorcycles.

I rode for about four years before my parents realized I was riding Ricky Schill's bikes. I guess they thought I was the world's oldest four year old, as I came home muddy, dirty, tired, and worn out-but excited every night. Getting my first bike as a senior in high school though finally elevated me to cool status. I had been a jock-now I could find a way to get out and enjoy life-and not have to deal with coaches, practice, rules, and locker room pranks. I had freedom-I was riding!

But the commandment-honor thy mother and thy father that your days shall be long bothered me-ok, only a few minutes after I got saved. Was I really disobeying them, and causing dishonor? Would it shorten my life? I love them, but loved to ride too-so took off riding, realizing that as parents they had a responsibility to love me no matter what. Try that one today! And I beleive God has honored my choice.

I found an out. The Bible tells parents that they are not to provoke their children to wrath! God was cool, He must love motorcycles, and He understood. And it was a good example of how many interpret the Bible. They search scripture, then find one that appelas to them, and then follow it. Just the opposite of what God wants, but that takes repentance. You see, we are supposed to change, not Him. We sinned, not Him. And we turned from Him, not Him from us. The truth is-we need to change to be like Him! Just like scripture says to do!

And reading the word like this, will change your life. You may get bogged down in Leviticus, but there is joy found in Jesus fulfilling all those laws. And a freedom in walking with Him, that comes close with riding, but won't get you into heaven, or forgiven. Sorry, but going into turn 3 too fast and beng scared and seeing God is not a spiritual experience. But giving your heart to God is. And watching as He changes your life, and fulfills desires in you-some you had, others he just told you about is exciting.

Maybe if the guy who wrote the Norton girl ads, did a Bible ad. Talk about sin and murder in Genesis. Talk about harlots in Joshua. Shipbuilding in Genesis. Kings, Chronicles, and Samuels tell some of the bloodiest war stories ever. Murder talked about in the four gospels, betrayal and lust, and finally Revelation-where you get it all! Science fiction has no chance against God's truth!

So to all you rebels out there. Sneak the Bible into your room tonite. Read it. And be bold, leave it out where your wife or parents can see it! Blow their mind by giving your heart to Jesus!

It's about time we took the word out of the bedroom and into the living room! You read what? You ride what? Jesus who? Jesus and motorcycles-it just don't get any better. Don't believe the ads-experience Jesus yourself. And read the book-before it becomes censored! Can't have all that sin in one book you know. The Bible-still the all time best seller. Just don't let your parents catch you!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

at times like these, the feature you can't see becomes perfectly obvious

There are few things worse than a broken machine. Whether it is a toaster that doesn't, a blender that won't or a cycle that doesn't cycle, machines are absolutely useless unless they work. And I always marvel when someone's bike won't start, how some genius in the crowd says "well it's either fuel or spark." Great, now if you were really smart you would know which one. We all know the procedure. Fuel is easy, on old Brit bikes tickle the carbs, when the gas runs out and soaks your shoe, it must be spark. Still not convinced, pull a fuel line to the tank-same result. After turning on the petcock, of course. And for the cool, slosh the tank with the cap off like Steve McQueen in the Great Escape, just before he jumped. And for you nerdy, open the cap, and light a match. If you get combustion, it could be be spark-or is it fuel, you got both!

My friend Rex back in the late 70's was rewriting the Suzuki tech manuals for them. He spent countless hours telling me how easy electricity was, and with each lesson I got stupider. He could not only repair, but knew the cause. For instance, one day in spring of 1981, we took off for Arches National Park in Utah. This would be the first long trip for my new 1981 KZ750, so I was excited. We rode for a couple hundred miles, and parked to take some pictures. And then my bike wouldn't start. New bike, new battery-no spark. But I had Rex, better than AAA. He had noticed my brake light not going off, and he surmised the rear brake pedal was adjusted wrong allowing the brake light to stay on, thus killing the battery. So we bump started the bike-this being the first year Kawasaki eliminated the kick starter on their street bikes, let it run for 15 minutes, adjusted the brake pedal, and all was well. But the amazing part was he knew that the alternator-that which charges the battery doesn't kick in until 2200rpm, so he set adjusted the idle up to that speed, and we all was fixed. Complaint-cause-correction, just like we were taught as good service advisors. Fixed. And I really miss him today!

It has been said, in cruder terms than I will use, that if it has a skirt or wheels it will give you trouble. To you Puritan types-anything manmade has a potential to fail. And it will. And it goes back to the garden. When Eve disobeyed God, and then brought Adam in the club, it altered the way things were done forever. No longer was the world perfect, but sin entered it, and in every aspect-fuel and spark included. Lights stayed on, or wouldn't light up, and we ran out of fuel-even though the gauge said we had some left. Imagine a sinless world, where Lucas electrics worked-no prince of darkness! Where you never went on reserve-and no little light came on to warn you of impending emptiness! No warning lights to inform us of impending doom if we don't obey, because we had obeyed. All this awaits us in heaven, but for now-we must endure a sin laden world. And one without a kick starter. So there are times we push.

And I look at things in a before kick starter, and after kick starter was removed attitude. BK vs. AK if you will. When we had kick starters, we always had a backup system to go to. Or parked on hill so we could bump start. We aren't that smart anymore. Now when you push the starter button, and nothing happens, and you can't bump start your bike because the fuel injection is electric, you sit and wait. And while some cuss while digging out their cell phone, which is hopefully charged, and within a cell area, others pray, and watch as God prepares a way out for you. And reminds you that anything man made will and can eventually fail. But that the answer is always found in Jesus. And it is your choice of how you handle the situation.

Living with Jesus is like riding with Rex, better than AAA, better than any worldly advice, and better than any religion. You see Rex was trying to diagnose and repair things the factory had failed on, where Jesus repairs things we fail in. Our bodies were perfect before sin came along, now they need maintenance, parts, regular service, and as we get older, more of the same. We need the fuel that only the Holy Spirit can provide to get us through the day, and the spark that only the love of a living God can provide. Gloomy-God will provide the spark. Depressed-he can kick start you back to health! Low on fuel or energy-He gives freely to all who ask. Lonely-He never deserts you. And when all seems lost-He will save you! REMEMBER-He created you, but sin led you away from Him. He knows how all the parts should fit, where they go, how they function, and what it takes to fuel your day, and give you the spark to make it all work! And unlike your missing kick starter, He is always there. The best way out in any situation! But like your battery, if not used often, will run down-not God, but your relationship with Him-and will need recharging-another free service of the gospel! And you are always under warranty in Him, and He is open 24/7. Just a prayer away!

See it really is easy-fuel or spark. But even easier is taking the yoke of Jesus. He says it is easy, won't wear us down, won't leave us stuck, and is available 24/7. No clubs to join, membership fees, or meeting to attend. And he even comes to you-right where you are. He is available NOW-so why don't you give your no start problem to Him, and watch as He changes the situation you are in. Experience tells us that each trip starts with the first step-so take that first step now-let Jesus into your life. Instead of good Lord it's morning, try Good morning Lord! Key on, fuel on, and Jesus in your life. Taking you places you want to go or never knew existed. And He rides, and even waits while you look for your keys. Jesus and motorcycles-it don't get any better, try Him and see!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com