advice from Robert Zimmerman-Triumph rider

Bob Dylan sang almost 50 years ago, "the times they are a changin'...." and those words are still contemporary today. But I could add that with the times, the people are also changing. And with that so are cars and motorcycles. And for those of us who resist change, especially for the sake of change, we are having problems.

Today the same computer geeks we made fun of, are the most sought after in the racing world. Traction control, computerized shift points, lap times, and other controls can be dealt with from the handlebars of your motorcycle. Where one time the addition of the starter button brought chaos to the old timers, now buttons for traction control, stereos, cruise controls, and accessory lights are jammed onto the handlebars. And when you need the right one, when wearing your winter gloves, it can be disastrous. And also, while some may brag that it makes for a better rider, I argue it makes for a different rider. Where we at one time learned how to ride through corners like a dirt tracker, now we push a button and it either retards the throttle input, or slight puts on the brakes-preventing accidents. ABS will keep you from skidding, but on recent adventure style bikes, can be turned off-for in the dirt there are times you need to skid, or want to, and it can't be over ridden by the computer. Technology takes over where once skills were required. Good for some, but any time you don't accentuate the skills, but make up for the lack of them, you have done a disservice to the rider.

At one time to start an old Triumph, you tickled the carbs until gas ran all over your foot, then pulled in the clutch to make sure it was free, then kicked it through once to make sure, and then after finding TDC, kicked with all your might, and it would start after 1-2 tries. If it didn't, well you may plan on being late for work, or your date. On the 2011's I have been riding, you just turn the key. And watch as the bike's computer makes its checks, being mesmerized by the tach or speedo needle make a complete sweep, then push the button, and ride off. No need to get your feet wet with gas, or no excuses for being late. And unlike the old bikes, put it into second and push, and dumping the clutch when the battery was dead, electronic fuel injection only works with electricity, so you cannot bump start it. And they call that progress?

And still it goes to back to basic fundamentals-gas and spark. You must have both or the bike will not run. Is the gas turned on? Is the kill button on? How many times have you been embarrassed by not checking the fundamentals? Only to have some wise guy say "hey dude, did you turn the gas on?" Or "is the key turned on?" But yet, when diagnosing your no start fiasco, we immediately panic, fuss and cuss, and forget what we have been taught and know to be true.

And our lives are like this also. We are in the Word, we walk with Christ and even tell others about Him. But yet the first thing that doesn't go our way, and we have a fit. Why do we have faith to pray for others, but are helpless in our own situations? Why can we remove the log in your eye, as Jesus explains, and not see the log in our own? Simply put it goes back to the fundamentals of sin-PRIDE! We lean on own understanding, God tells us to trust Him. We think we have the answers, and wonder "how could God let me down with all these people watching?" Maybe to teach you about humility. And I can tell from first hand experience, I rather be humbled than humiliated. I rather seek God, and follow His advice than be stuck on the side of the road. But when I am, I am glad He is with me there also, and ask Him what to do next. Fundamentals-even bikes and lives won't start without them. Or stay running like designed for very long.

So stay close to God. I can assure you that your faith will be tested today-thanks a lot , Mike. But God, who is trustworthy is with you. No start, how long has it been since your battery told you it was dying? Out of gas, how many miles have you travelled on reserve? You may have faith to trust God, but you don't have the smarts to listen to Him. How long since you prayed? Stay with the fundamentals.

The gospel is simple. Don't get led astray by questions you cannot answer. Do not let cults or cult types into your home. Don't be misled by nice young men on bikes, or kids wanting to give you free magazines. God warns you to not even wish them good day. It's in the owner manual, under 2 John. And watch, as the so called progressives try to tell you about a new gospel, or new revelation. There aren't any. Jesus is the same today, and will always be. It is us who must change.

Simple first aid, if it won't start-pray. If you are in trouble-pray. Lost, pray again. But make it a dialog, not a monologue, and then listen. You may find His advice, and instruction more valuable than many kick start attempts with the gas off. And God won't send you onto the next step until you have finished the first.

Gas on, key on-push button. The button will start the bike, but only when it has gas and spark. Is the spark missing from your life? Feel like you are out of gas? Spend time with God, before you have to seek Him on the side of the road. You cannot control your hearing, but can your mouth. Use both as needed-you asked, now listen. And enjoy a much better ride.

It's all in the owner's manual. And the Bible. The times are a changin', and so did Dylan. Don't you think you should too?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

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the petcock

The most effective, best fuel gauge ever invented for motorcycles is the petcock. This simple, non-electric device has worked for years, providing riders the need to know when to get gas. Before they run out. A simple, three position-on/off/reserve, serves to let you know that you need to get gas soon, when you go on reserve. And for the rookies, to turn it on, when you are starting the bike. We watched recently as a rookie pulled out of the dealership on his new bike, blipping the throttle to tell us how cool he was, and then stalling as he left the light-turn the petcock on! But when in the hands of anyone else-it works. Unless, as my favorite riding partner once did, when not sure how much gas she had, turned to what she thought was reserve-she was already on it, and ran out of gas-even though she had some left on reserve. Proving once again the importance of a sequence.

And I have run out with electric gauges, once showing 193 miles to empty, and another showing 15 miles to empty. And both times, fellow bikers have come to the rescue. The last ride I had on a Ducati was when I was stuck on the side of I-15, and after watching two police cars go by, one even slowed down so I could see his "to protect and serve..."logo, which I interpret as "to neglect and swerve," the Duke rider stops, puts me on my back-which convinced me the only reason they put a vinyl cover on the seat was so in case of rain it wouldn't rust, and took me to Target, bought me a gas can, and then filled it. And wouldn't take any money. Taking a half hour out of his life to rescue me. The brotherhood of bikers. Maybe the police should take note. Are you?

Another time two guys with dirt bikes in the back of their pickup stopped, and gave us the last of their expensive racing gas. "Glad to help," they said, then followed us to the nearest gas station, just to make sure we were OK. And we never got their names. For bikers know to take care of one another, a brotherhood, and we have even been known to stop and assist cars. When is the last time a car stopped for you?

Ecclesiastes tells us to cast our bread upon the waters. To give generously, more than the need represents. And to give, to take a chance, when others won't. I call it not stepping over the Lazarus got has put in front of you, and we are all guilty of it. Gas when you need it, and either from a sense to serve, or out of your abundance. Meet the need. Whether a hug, a phone call, buying someone a burger, or taking them to get gas-take the time. Don't let the brotherhood of bikers goodwill to others remain with them, if we are Christians, and have told someone we are-they expect us to act like one. And this one simple action may show more Jesus to them than reciting any scriptures or preaching to them. Jesus tells us we were given to freely,and we ought to respond by giving freely. You may not be stuck yet, but I can promise you, some day you might. And a biker may not be around. Trust God, He is always around, and uses people like us to minister. Today, let yourself be that person God uses to bless someone.

Keep things simple like the petcock. Off when resting, on when going, and keeping some in reserve for others. Live the scripture, rather than quoting it. Take a chance today and reach out to someone in need. What seems like a simple or wasteful expenditure to you, can be valuable to someone else. And take joy in the fact that God is always watching, and takes great joy in seeing you show His love through your actions.

Bikers, petcocks, and the gospel are very simple. Keep your life that way. In Christ!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

hucklebuckle religion

Do you remember playing Hucklebucklebeanstalk in elementary school? It was a popular game up until about the fifth grade, when somehow the joy of looking for a missing object just didn't light our fires anymore. If you aren't familiar with it, while you were sitting at your desk, with your heads down, like when you were being punished, one of the more favored pupils, aka the pet, would take a common classroom item, like an eraser, or bean bag, or whatever, and hide it. Then in complete silence, the rest of the class drones would hover around the room, searching for it. When one did-usually another teacher's pet, they would sit down, again silently, until a few others found it, just in case teacher's pet #1 had found another hidden eraser. But before they sat down, while you were cruising for the hidden item, the hider would give clues like hot, cold, or you're very hot or cold. Maybe this explains why cold weather doesn't bother me. They were the only ones to break the eerie silence. And of course the finder, when they had returned to their seat after locating it, would yell, "hucklebucklebeanstalk!" alerting us other wandering fools they had found the holy grail of the game. Bored yet, I guess by the fifth grade the charm, allure, and excitement of finding a chalkboard eraser wanes so that other intense games, but not as quiet, as kickball, take its place. But for a rain soaked Jersey kid, this was recess far too often.

I am on my ninth new Triumph this year, and all have one thing in common-a clock. And it seems no two are alike when it comes to setting it, and until you do it blinks like many people's VCR used to at 12:00. Which amazes me-one that these tiny numbers get your attention more easily than the bigger ones in a digital speedometer, and two, how they can build such great bikes, but such lousy instruments. Sadly, all bikes are into this info game now, and when I figured out the latest one, I almost shouted "hucklebucklebeanstalk!" Which was much nicer than what I had been previously thinking. Note-it is easier to set clock while parked than at 80mph. I'd rather hucklebuckle horsepower!

But so much for the newer generation that has to know everything. Who because of the internet has access to more info that is unusable at any given time. And now due to i-pods, can be on the side of the road and Google "how to set clock on motorcycle?" and get the answer. But as info driven as we are, there are more things we can never know. But yet, as news of the day points toward the Rapture, the interest among Christians of who is the Anti-christ rises. Why, do some who claim to know Jesus, wish to know who will be the worst man ever on earth? If they truly believe Jesus will rapture them, why do they spend time wondering who it will be when it will never effect them? Maybe the warning of who you seek you will find hasn't sunk in yet. You have found the savior, quit looking!

But for generations, the elect, and some who think they are, still look. But only God knows when Jesus will rapture us, which keeps the devil on his toes. For since he doesn't know either, he has to prepare an antichrist for each generation. And he must be ready at any given time. And then he gets to mislead anyone he can by making that generation wonder who it is. Or was, or might have been. Which may explain in recent years the plethora of wretched individuals released into humanity.

Now just suppose you did know, which you can't do unless you get left behind. Will it matter? You have a far greater chance, 100% of being wrong, and ruining your witness. So keep the gospel simple, and be more concerned about Jesus' first appearance. For if you blow that one, you really won't like His second. Focus on Jesus, keep Him the main thing, and let God handle the time and place. For whether by the rapture or not, you will go to heaven when you die if you are saved.

Quit walking around in silence like we did as kids playing Hucklebucklebeanstalk. We know the truth, and who He is. Let Jesus change someone else's life like He changed yours. Hallelujah instead of hucklebucklebeanstalk! For what you have found has never been hidden, and let the lost wonder who will be their king.

Oh, and the clocks on bikes-what exactly does the time 1724 mean? I chose the 24 hour clock, whoever heard of a clock only working for 12 hours anyway?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

looking forward, but not ahead

We call them wish lists, or for you cinematically influenced, bucket lists. They are things we wish to do, want to have, places to visit, or desires to fulfill before we die. Or are too old and feeble to enjoy them. And although it is fun to dream like that, sometimes the reality of attaining those wishes isn't quite as much fun as the anticipation of it. Perhaps Sam Clemens, aka Mark Twain said it best, "the only thing worse than not getting your heart's desire is getting your heart's desire." And I think we have all been there, on both sides of the equation at times in our life.

The advertisers somehow keep us on the edge of our seats waiting for next year's bikes to come out. Thanks to the internet, we have spy photos, and spy shots, with computer enhanced drawings of what the new GSCBKH RocketCycloneLow Rider will be. And thanks to their enchanting words and photos, somehow our old bikes seems just that-old. What was last years dream, is now this years how do I sell it to get the newest one? And in a market where Harley's new models are mostly colors, the Japanese shave .001 seconds off the 1/4, and Ducati comes out with another narrow focus ride that once you've shown all your friends you park and ride something else, we line up for the latest and greatest. All at a higher price, while our old had to have it last year dream loses value. With a simple formula-lust, buy, sell at a loss, and repeat. At least we are all consistent.

I almost broke that mold once, having owned my FJ1100 for almost 10 years. A record for me. But after buying my first new Triumph, they have a 2 year, unlimited mile warranty, I figured every two years I would have a new bike, and never be out of warranty. But like I found out, while looking ahead, I was missing the joy of riding what I had, and finally broke the habit after six years. Thanks to no money, and a reduced ego, I began enjoying what I had even more, and found out high mileage was more of a bragging right than a new bike. And I still stick to that today, as my highest mileage bike is my 2006 Tiger with 67,000, and my lowest my 2006 Scrambler with 19,000. Theresa's Bonneville with 67,000 is still highest, but I added the first 26,000. Still, how many women do you know have ridden over 40,000 miles in the last five years? High miles, means more memories, and of course more maintenance. And I still find oil changes and tires less expensive than paying more my latest gotta have 900 for 60 months. You do your own math.

Long term relationships take time. Like, duh. But they also take a commitment, a commitment of more than your monthly payment. It takes a commitment, an investment of time and emotions-for riding a motorcycle, like a relationship with God, is a personal thing. God, wife, family, motorcycle. Keep them in order, and you should do well. Get them out of order, and maybe that is why you see so many low mileage, late model bikes for sale-due to a divorce. And when it is too late, start the process all over again. And some never get it, like my friend, Rick the attorney. Who on his latest divorce tells me "I'll never get married again, every five years I'll just find a woman who hates me and buy her a house."

Where are you with Jesus today? Right now? Are you still in love and excited, or has life interfered with your relationship with Him? Are you reduced to weekly church attendance, or are you still in the word? Or do you look for excuses not to spend time with God? Jesus tells us that when we avoid Him, or put anything ahead of Him, we have lost our first love. Do you look at Him like you do your latest ride? Do you anticipate reading your Bible and fellowshipping like you do your new bike? Do you look at Jesus the same way you look at new motorcycles?

Have you lost your first love, or just misplaced Him? Truth is, the world will invade, but the choice is always ours. God will not force His way into our lives, and it is us who turns on Him-never the other way around. And when the dust settles, or the ride is over, He is still there, patiently waiting-lovingly, for us to return to Him. For His list is very simple and short-He loves us, and doesn't want to share us with anybody, or anything. Remember to include Him in your latest Wish List if He isn't on top of it already.

God wants us as we are. Would you buy a used bike that? That is love, and trust. So run to Him. His latest model may be almost 2000 years old, but how do improve on perfection? New models, New Age, or a new gospel? Don't buy into it. Stick with the what you have-Jesus.

Has it been awhile? Pick up the word and let the scripture touch your heart once again. Tune up your life and go to church. Today is the most exciting time to be a Christian with the rapture imminent. Make today the best day of your life, and then repeat it tomorrow.

And for you other high mileage guys, treasure the memories and testimonies you have over the years. The encouragement means a lot to me, and to others. For Jesus promises your cup, or bucket will overflow with blessings when you follow Him. And in terms of roads left to ride, you better start today. I look forward to heaven, and being with Jesus, but am content to enjoy the blessings of today. On last year's bike. And last year's wife. And my forever Lord and Savior.

Cheaper than a new house every five years.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

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pure religion-hold the cream and sugar

I would like to go on record as not being a coffee drinker. Long before it became trendy to pay 10 times too much for your trendy cup of Joe, I didn't like it. Seems I never had trouble getting up, or staying up, so I never started drinking it. And yes, I did try it once. Love the smell, but when it didn't taste like it smelled, that was enough. And I am not anti-coffee, as I used to sell both Maryland Club and Folgers-and did quite well winning awards for selling both. I guess when it comes down to it, I don't agree with the trendiness of selling something that costs less than a nickel a cup to make for $4! I don't like sitting indoors, or out where people vegetate while nursing their cup for the afternoon, when they could be riding. But mostly I am against the attitudes I find there, yes I have walked into Starbucks with other friends who need their dose of trendy caffeine to function. What I miss is the Coffee Shop, or Shoppe, depending on your income level.

Long before high priced lattes, and designer sandwiches and croissants, we had coffee shops. Before you even sat down, the cup and saucer had hit the table, and it could be had with toast or a muffin. Some would even have a small breakfast menu, eggs and bacon with toast, but the idea was this was a short trip, and that your time was important to you. Waitresses called you honey or sweetheart, coffee with breakfast got you out for under $2, and you always left a generous tip. You had a relationship with the waitresses, not that kind, the kind where you knew about each other's families, and no small talk was allowed, you didn't have time for it. Real men took their coffee black, the decaf pot always had to be rebrewed due to sitting so long, and only an occasional oddball, like me, would order tea. And you got a bag of Lipton, there again no designer, caffeine free, green tea that was healthful. Just like the 500 calorie donut, you drank it because you wanted it, not to make a fashion statement.

Regular, decaf, or instant-those are your choices in life it seems. Black with strength, or a latte-milk with coffee added. But for some reason, coffee must be had. Only the most hard core drink instant, if it tastes like it smells I really wouldn't like it. And it seems that coffee, or its attitude has invaded the church. Where once you went to church to fellowship, worship, and learn about God, now it has become trendy. I know people who insist on a certain church brand-because of the music, or the pastor is popular-did you read his latest book? Saw him on Oprah. They take their religion light, like latte, don't bring Jesus into it, it changes the flavor. I just want enough so that I feel my obligation is fulfilled, even though I may not be. Check out their designer Bible covers, clean and neat from not being opened-it may crack the vinyl. Besides, who has time to read it-that's why I go to church. How much can God expect from me anyway?

We also have instant Christians. No time for God, so they listen on the radio, when nothing else is on. They may read the trendy books on the newest rage, and tune God in when needed, which is not very often. Church-when I have no other plans, and if it doesn't interfere with anything else. A quick trip with Jesus, never getting the flavor or the aroma, that knowing Him personally brings. A cup here, a cup there, but never enough to stimulate.

Decaf Christians are similar. All the church, but not the Jesus. I believe in God. He drives a BMW, so I should too. The Bible, some old book, for weaklings. Don't talk to me about religion, I'm not for it. And never get to know Jesus, who didn't like religion either, and died on the cross so they could be free from their sin. Decaf-no flavor and no life. And just like the formaldehyde it is decaffeinated with, they ae being embalmed because they are spiritually dead-they just don't know it.

But true Christians, those that call Jesus Lord, take it black. Nothing else in it that can contaminate it or change the flavor. Jesus is all they desire, and all they want. Their Bibles are worn, and the pages covered with notes. They know all about Jesus because He is personal. And like the waitress, He knows what they want before they show up, and He has it ready for them. Great service, great coffee, and a great relationship. Nothing religion can offer interests them, and they desire a blend that only Jesus can provide. Black and strong, and hot. Fresh, just like the gospel. And like the spirit, the pot is always fresh.

Don't settle for a trendy religion, when Jesus is available. Better than any religion, He brings freedom. And you will love the flavor. Take a few moments to soak in the aroma of His love, and then spend a few minutes with Him. Find a church that is like a coffee shop, and not a Starbucks. Get to know your fellow brothers and sisters, and stick around and fellowship while having another cup.

Jesus Christ-everything you want from a God-and more. And I don't recall Him ever drinking a latte! Let the relationship you have with Him be just like your coffee-black, strong, and with nothing to change Him. God got it right the first time-He needs no additives, or a trendy place to serve you. Stop and thank Him now-the pot is on, and He has a mug with your name on it. At the coffee shop/church of your choice.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Sundays will never be the same

My old roommate Bill met him at the carwash. Him being Billy Disch, aka the Wildman. He was a few years younger than us, still a senior at South Plainfield High School, but with a love of riding like us. He had a 1972 Mach 3, pained gloss black and nasty fast. Along with Bill's CB750 Dunstall cafe racer, and my R90S, we lived for weekends so we could ride. Saturdays meant heading west, and riding the hills in Pennsylvania. The country was perfect for riding, with great roads, and very little traffic. And since it was Saturday, it meant no time frames, no predetermined routes, and no time to be home-if we got back at all. Sometimes it meant sleeping along the road, or at new friends place. Or sometimes just getting back home at 3am, exhausted, but up and ready to ride by 8am on Sunday. I seemed that 1973 was a Golden Era to be riding, as friends had Z-1's, Nortons, Triumphs, and other iconic bikes at the time. And we would meet them along the road, bench race, then follow them on roads new to us, then pass the adventures along to the next group we would meet. But Saturday riding couldn't be beat. The freedom of nowhere to go, and nothing to do, opened up the doors to adventure of anywhere to go, and anything to do. And we did. Later another Bill would join us on his CB450, and fit in, and also my friend Gene, on his R75/5 would join us.

Gene loved to ride more than any of us, and even when his music career took off, if he got in after 3am would still be the first ready to ride by 8am the next morning. Nothing kept Gene away, and while we had always headed west to Pennsylvania, he took us north,then east into Connecticut and upper New York state-new territory to us. Ride to live, and live to ride-we did. And given $20 could ride anywhere, and do anything we wanted all weekend. And then OPEC shut off the gas tap, and challenged our world. Sundays would never be the same.

You see gas stations would be closed on Sundays-the traditional family day to travel, and the latter half of our weekends. So rather than half our weekend end when the gas stations shut down on Saturday, which was usually around 9pm, we all made sure we had a full tank by then, anticipating Sundays ride. And suddenly where freedom had reigned, now we had rules, and boundaries. We could only ride as far, round trip, as the smallest tank would go. Which happened to be the Wildman's Kawasaki, which coincidentally not only had the smallest tank, but got the worst mileage. So he would set our boundaries, and when he got to half a tank, we would start home. Which forced us to take roads we had never taken before, roads we would have passed up, so we could get out of Jersey. And we found a great set of roads, west of Piscataway, just waiting to be ridden. Not as good as Pennsylvania, or Connecticut, but new places, and new riders to meet-all with the same burden of riding only as far as your tank would get you. And I know there were times the Wildman would coast home, hoping he had enough gas to get to the stations when they opened on Monday morning before he went to school. But somehow we never ran out, although the threat was always there. Adding a suspense to the ride-unnecessary, but making the roads and miles we did ride that much more important. And valuable. It seems we don't truly miss something until it is gone, and Sunday gas seriously cut into ur lifestyle. But out of the adversity somehow brought us all closer together, as riders, and as friends. Adversity has a way of doing that, but only if you can see the opportunities rather than the disadvantages it brings.

I miss those riding days, and today only have one riding partner, my wife. And whether behind me, or on her own Bonneville, we go places, eat things, and have great experiences-from coast to coast. And since becoming a Christian, I appreciate the road more. and also the places it has taken me, and will take me. Saturdays mean the same as they did in '74, ride all day, and stay out late, or jut stay out if you want. But Sundays mean a desire for fellowship, at church. At we have been so blessed by visiting other churches across the country. We have met pastors, clergy, and other Christians because of our commonality-Jesus Christ. Add motorcycles into it, and you have the spirit of the road, and the Spirit of God mixed all together. And having my best friend to ride with makes it all wonderful. Talks of things we saw, over meals we would never try at home, and staying in places we have never heard of, have broadened our horizons, and also stretched us. We get to see that so many others love Jesus, and that the way they worship may be different, but just right for them. As long as the main thing is he main thing-Jesus, then it's all right.

New roads, and new friends not yet met. Take to the road today. Let God stretch you in ways you never have, or thought you could. Make new memories, and when you are asked "how did you find this place?" remind them you didn't on your own. It was riding with God who takes you the best places. Get out and experience all that the Lord has for you. Let Him fulfill the desires of your heart, one ride or one mile at a time. But get out.

I miss my old friends, but I think I miss the memories more. And with so many roads, and such little time, I don't want to waste any of it. Let God bring on the blessings. And share them with new friends. You never know, there just may be a couple wishing to do what you are doing, but just need the chance, and encouragement. Don't let the destination be all the trip is about-enjoy what God has planned for you on the ride.

And even if the smallest tank rider has to lead, God will show you places you didn't know about. In your own backyard. And who knows, maybe Bill, Geno, Bill B. or the Wildman may be at your next stop. Stranger things have happened, but that's another story. Ride to church, and after. Sundays will never be the same.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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Get Smart-or get left behind

In a true example of comedy being the purest form of truth, in the arena of world politics we are seeing the world of Agent 86, Maxwell Smart, of CONTROL, being played out. And of course, his nemesis, KAOS. I don't think that I am the only one who notices that the world is in chaos, and that the more it spins out of control, the scarier it can be. It seems that whether it is centered on the middle east countries in rebellion, extreme weather, people being tortured for their beliefs, people with a distrust or actual hatred for government, the world hungry and bankrupt, and lie upon lie being fed to us, we are MAD! And rightfully so. When so many are out of work, without out hope and destitute, and so many athlete/entertainers complain about only making millions-we have had it. When politicians take party stances as opposed to doing what is best for the US of A, we vote them out. But just get more of the same. Does anyone get it that mankind does not have the answers? That maybe government is the problem, and not the solution? That maybe God does? Have you asked Him lately? Does it take chaos and being out of control to find that out? So many looking for something to save them, when really it is a someone who does-Jesus Christ!

I was not much of a fan of Get Smart. Although it was brilliantly written and conceived by Mel Brooks and Buck Henry, I found it unentertaining 45 years ago. Except the beginning, where Max had the Sunbeam Tiger, and later the Karmann Ghia. He also drove a Ferrari and a Shelby, and finally an Opel GT, a poor man's Corvette. But today, they look like geniuses compared to world leaders when compared to them, and looking back, maybe Max and 99 were onto something. They were the precursor, or prophets of government ineptitude, and foretelling the fall of civilization-as we know it. The failure of man and his institutions was played out right before us. And we laughed, but now we cry. And maybe we need to remember how far we have fallen-so we can get up, if there is still time.

Pastor Chuck said it best last night, "I used to have to read the Bible to read about Bible prophecy, now I just turn on the news. " And as the Muslim nations unite against their enemy Israel, we see-but not on network news, the thousands being killed and tortured. Try Al Jazeera on the LINK network. Channel 375 on DISH. Mideast news from the Mideast. As all the conditions are being met for the rapture, where Jesus removes all the Christians from the earth, somewhere the Anti-Christ is alive and well. Waiting. And he will feed the people-not just with food, but with lies. And unite the world in a pseudo peace for 42 months. Then will show his true colors as he enters the Tabernacle in Jerusalem, and pronounces himself God! And those who will have taken the mark, will be his subjects, but those who stand against him and don't, still have a chance. For God warns, whoever takes the mark of the Beast-Satan himself, is doomed to eternal damnation-HELL! Be wary, for the seeds are planted, and like Chuck said, you can see and hear it on the news. Time to get smart.

Max and 99 worked for CONTROL, but were actually in chaos. So is our world. And it is only fitting that some of his iconic lines can be a warning to us today.

"Sorry about that, Chief." Repent, turn to Jesus. Did you know that in times of trouble, the church grows? And that many in this war torn Mid East are being saved? Pray for them!

"Would you believe...the words of Christ?" It doesn't take understanding, just a little faith. With all the evidence you see, what if the Bible is right? How much time is left?

"I told you not to tell me that." What part of The Truth don't you like? Have I made you my enemy by telling you the truth?

But mostly don't get left behind. For if God tarries one day or one year, knowing Him now is always a blessing. And He will guide and protect you in the tough times. Blessings we call them. Don't let your legacy be "missed by that much!"

Leave the chaos behind, and let God be in control of your life. 45 years ago, Get Smart warned us of the eternal battle of KAOS and of CONTROL. Maybe today is the day we get smart with Jesus.

"Would you believe...?" Yes, I do. And you thought there was nothing educational on TV.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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no one to blame but yourself

Whether you wish to admit it or not, we have become a society looking for someone to blame. That is everyone, or anyone, except ourselves. The kicker misses a short field goal, to win a game that is 45-43. And they blame the kicker for the loss. What about the 45 points the defense let the other team score? Yet, his muffed field goal is all that makes the news. Same in baseball. One pitch changes the game, and they will show it from every angle. What about the other six runs they let score against them? If they hadn't let them score, they wouldn't be in the situation they were when one run counted. Truth is they all counted-the same. Just some are remembered for the moment.

And some actions may be punitive and vindictive rather than motivating. I had a teacher in sixth grade, Miss Bevelheimer. With a name like that, she just didn't give the same impression as Molly Pitcher, which she wasn't. She gave me a C once, because I did B work, but could have done A. And the lesson I learned was contempt. And that a B doesn't always equal a B. Which may explain why she was a Miss-" Marriage? I like you very much, but I don't love you, so let's just be friends. Meet me at my parents for dinner? CLICK! "Hello. Hello." And all isn't fair in love and sixth grade.

Or life for that matter. While the winning team is celebrating their win, there has to be a loser. The guys who scored all the points in victory are winners. Using words such as perseverance, endurance, and how winners never quit. Some may even admit they just got lucky. As if there was such a thing. How they hung tough. All based on one failure by the other team. One pitch, one kick. But what about the rest of the story? How important is timing? What made them an A when they really did C work?

God holds us accountable for all our actions. When caught in sin, all the good things we did don't matter. "But God, I got all A's in life. So what if I blew the entrance exam-to heaven?" Like the rich man when asked what it takes to get to heaven, we let things get between us and God. The rich man's problem was money-it meant more than God. To athletes, victory can be the only thing, and at a price. With us it can be simple disobedience to what God says-it is called sin. And it is our fault. Not God's! But He has given us a way out of it. Jesus. Be forgiven and go on. don't go back and pick up where you left off-keep going. They don't have do over's in the pros, and you don't in life either. It is not a second chance God provides, but a new life. And once you cast all your sins on Jesus, you are forgiven-now, and in the future. They don't exist. No replays of missed opportunities, or of sin. God's scrapbook of you is full of blessings, which He keeps as a book of remembrance. Scrapbooking is not a new concept in heaven. And He is a pass/fail God. Ask forgiveness, and you get it. You can't earn it, and it isn't people specific. He sees all sin as sin, do you? The law may demand you do time, God forgives. Any questions?

He also sees all forgiveness as forgiveness. Do you? How you do will influence your view of victory, or failure. I can promise you we all will screw up today, how we handle it tells us a lot about who Jesus is in our life. Don't expect an A, or an F. Expect love and forgiveness, and pass it along. There will be plenty of chances for both again tomorrow. You don't make heaven based on your career statistics, only by being forgiven. Will you forgive someone today and show them the way? For while we were yet sinners, God forgave us. Now if I can forgive a foolish sixth grade teacher, the rest should be easy.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

Lesson learned from the Bible Zone.

1500 calories never tasted so good

My old boss at Coke, Terry Young, had this whole calorie thing figured out years ago. If you had a TAB with lunch, the calories you saved by drinking a diet soda could be used other places, like extra fries or "just make that cheeseburger a double, please." And since we have this new law which shows the caloric content of all foods eaten at your favorite restaurant, you can make the numbers work for you. And once again, have the government prove that we know better what we want without their help.

One of the first surprises came by now being told that salads have as many calories as burgers. For years those of you who have suffered by eating a salad, and acting like you were someone special while passing judgment on the burger crowd, now are finally exposed. Looking at menus recently, I find burgers and salads about the same in calorie content, with the edge going to burgers in the flavor category. And some salads, the better tasting ones, have more. And I can see it now, burger sales increase, while salad intake decreases, and we all feel much better about what we eat. Maybe the government is really here to help us after all!

A few years back, we stopped at a Steak and Shake-our favorite chain in the Midwest. Once we see them in Oklahoma, we know we are on the edge of junk food civilization, and that White Castle, Primonti's, and sub shops are all within reach of our caloric desires. But this time, we were going to outsmart them, by going to their light menu. Instead of ice cream in the shake, I had the low calorie version. Which by the way was pretty good, until I found out I had saved a whopping 60 calories by going light. And light on calories also meant light on flavor-why do the best things that taste so good have so many calories? There was no way the light shake was worth the 60 calorie sacrifice-I was ready for my next visit. Think I'll splurge and have a Diet Coke with it!

Now that we are armed with all this worthy knowledge, we know what any school kid has known for years-it's about the portions. Eat smaller ones, but eat them more often. Look at the Nutrisystem portions-good food, tastes good, but they are child sized. Still hungry, eat a rice cake. Just don't have a large salad with it. Fill up on water, still the best diet drink, unless you live in So Cal with our pool tasting, non-refresher diet drink, and feel good about yourself. And feel less guilty about the Hershey bar you eat before falling asleep to congratulate yourself on your caloric discipline. And wake up hungry the next morning, and start all over. Let's see, how many calories are there in Trix?

I know people who base their God intake the same way. I went Sunday, so I am free to indulge as I want the rest of the week. And many do, but suffer. For like milkshakes and Big Macs, once you get a taste for God, nothing else satisfies. You want the real thing, and in the biggest portions you can get. And I know guys who are out 3-4 nights a week at church activities. For unlike our food intake, you cannot get enough God in you. Fill yourself on manna today, and you are still hungry for it tomorrow. For knowing Jesus is like finding a new favorite restaurant, and you have to go through the entire menu a few times before you settle on your favorite. Let's see, I'll have some Revelation today, Psalms for dessert, and finish it off with prayer while falling asleep. Wake me up to the gospels, and keep me nourished during the day by Proverbs. Hey, and I'm feeling really hungry today, bring on a portion of Leviticus. Let's live it up!

Feed the inner man, and you will find you are also feeding the outer man. And before they add laws about scriptural intake, get all you can. For we are one of the last vestiges of Bible reading freedom in the world. That big meal called church you pass up, ask people in Egypt, Iran, Sudan, China, India, and other countries-where Bibles and Christians are against the law, how much they would love to share a meal of scripture with you. So enjoy much, and enjoy often. No laws, if any, give you the freedom of choice that God does.

So get out and feed at the church of your choice. Make mine big portions of Jesus mixed with love. Eaten with lots of my friends, with singing and lots of fun. For like most of us, we don't care about the calories, only the experience and the taste. And nowhere but Jesus will you ever be filled!

Maybe that was why Jesus was always feeding large crowds-He liked the food and the people! And His portions were always the right size! SUPERSIZED!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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sorry, but our reactions tell us more than our actions

Richard, the guy who fixes our cars, is an old drag racer, motorcycles that is. Back in the seventies and into the eighties, he raced Kawasaki H-2's, the 750 2 stroke. When breathed on, and nitrous added, he ran into the high 8's, fast by any standards. A fast shoe to be sure. But what is impressive to me, and to him, is he is the only person I ever heard of with a perfect reaction time. Anticipating the green light at the start, the best guys are down to .05 seconds, which at the end of the 1/4 mile can be a bike length or two, that is how critical it is. But Richard has the timing slip showing perfect reaction, 0.00 reaction time, and I am impressed. A great record, but impossible to improve on. And unlike a hole shot in drag racing, when you only have a 1/4 mile to be right on, you gotta be quick-or you lose. And in a two man race, second place is first loser.

There have always been fast guys, but it is the fastest guys I am impressed with. the ones who when it counts, deliver. They give it whatever it takes to win, and in drag racing, concentration, and consistency are important. And this is important on the road too. At 60mph you are travelling 83 feet/second. In the time it took to read this, you travelled three+ car lengths. While talking your phone-illegal, doing your eye liner, reading your notes, or trying to research something on your i-pod. And while trying to pilot a 4000 pound vehicle. And when dealing with a reaction time of over two seconds at that speed, you will have travelled six car lengths before you even apply the brakes in an emergency situation. Remember that, as you are endangering others lives while engaging in irresponsible and selfish activities. Those of us on motorcycles have families, too!

So you can see how important our reaction times can be. But just as deadly can be our over reaction times. Slamming on brakes on slick roads, and causing a skid. Turning the wheel suddenly to avoid something when not paying attention, and causing an accident. If only you were on the road, it would be different, but you share it with others. And life is also like that, it is shared with others, too.

I have been told the worse thing to do in a panic situation is to panic. To make the situation worse. And we all seem to very good at it. We over react, it is all about me, and someone has sullied my rights. I am always curious why only guilty parties talk about their rights. They never talk about their responsibilities. That must be the other guys responsibility, but not his right. In a Christian life, we all fall prey to being self righteous about things we do not do, but forget to minister to those who are dying in their sin. The Bible tells us that our sin will find us out, not God. His love covers a multitude of sins. But yet, we get self righteous ones who have all the answers, just not to our questions.

Love is a better choice. And part of love is forgiveness. I have learned that waiting for an apology will increase bitterness, so get over it. Jesus died while we were yet sinners, maybe we should forgive those that have sinned against us, but have failed to repent. And we should do the same. Recently I saw a man who has wronged me, but has never repented. He was miserable and could not talk with me as others did. His bitterness, based on rules in his life, has caused walls to come up between him and the lesser types like me. Like the Pharisees, I saw him as lonely, when a simple apology would have changed his life. And our relationship.

Forgive someone today. Bring your reaction time in love down to a 0.00. Look for ways to show Jesus, and when you are guided by His spirit, others will notice. We are still a long way from perfection, but it is amazing how one little speck in my eye, can cause the whole eye to see distorted.

Life is short. Forgive. Like any other driver, a drag racer puts his miles on a 1/4 mile at a time. But for him that time means something. And time is short. You can't go back, but you can go on.

Jesus' reaction time was perfect. At the right time. Follow His example and increase your times, both good and bad. And to those who have offended me, I forgive you. Will you forgive me? Perhaps when we see each other as He does, we will enjoy life more. He sees us as perfect, and forgiven. What is your reaction to that?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

God shed His grace on Lee

Any old biker will tell you that chains stretch, and need adjustment-then you have to replace them. Same with cables before the advent of Teflon. I broke one once on my Z-1, remember the push/pull system on Jap bikes? When I finally figured it out, I had to push rather than pull, until I got even smarter and just reversed it, until my new one arrived. Amazing what you learn in desperation. And we even stretch before we get on our bikes, knowing we will be sitting for a while, and loosening up. So we should be very familiar with stretching. And in a Spandex world, staying loose is a good thing, for someday we will all be stretched. It's just that some are more Bungee than Spandex and want to bounce back. But true to form, when God says stretch, He means growth-for us. And what He sends our way is always to benefit us. And also to remind us how He controls the future. For our benefit for those who follow Him.

I was asked to speak at Lee's service, and God had given me the words. Then I was asked to speak for two minutes at the cemetery, we only had 30 minutes there. And while the girls had worked out hand signals to stop me at two minutes, God had another plan. When we arrived, the cemetery representative told me I had 15 minutes-to do my two minute show! No hand signs necessary. Isn't there something about man plans, and God laughs? But Lord, this is my friends funeral! Trust works in all situations, remember? But, first I must digress... a little.

When laying in bed and asking God what he wanted me to say, He told me to sing-to sing Amazing Grace to the tune of America, the Beautiful. And also where it says "God shed His grace on thee," to say God shed His grace on Lee. Cool. OK Lord, we got the words-now I have to find someone to sing.

"NO!" was His answer. "You sing!" It's like wait God, this is a funeral, and I have never sung in public. And I don't sing in public. And this is a funeral God, remember? Aren't they supposed to be somber? But God had a different plan-and He wanted to stretch me!

So when He gave me the words to say, I was blessed. And even excited to sing-that should make you believe in miracles. And sing we did. Loud, so the other mourners could hear our joy, and when we all sang "God shed His grace on Lee"-you could feel the love and joy. And then we all broke into spontaneous applause! Dick had joined in on his harmonica-even asked Theresa what key I would sing in-off key, Dick, if ever I am asked again. And Suzi, aka Ballerini was blessed. What a celebration of life-and Jesus in a man's life! And the funeral director told me this was one of the best services he had ever seen. S-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d-! A whole bunch-God knew exactly what He was doing.

And at the reception, I was asked to sing it again. And with Glen's help, we all sang again, from the heart! And then people picked up American flags that were used to decorate the room, and I remembered Lee-and Father Al. When years ago Fr. Al was asked to be a bishop, we prayed and he reminded me that the God who had asked Him, would also give him grace to complete it. And on Friday God's grace was amazing, and it allowed me to complete what God wanted for Lee's funeral. But I also thought of Lee, and Ballerini told Theresa later, "Lee would have loved it!" Thanks Lord, and I am so glad I followed your advice.

Today you will be faced with decisions. Jesus is there to be faithful to complete the task He set before you. But you must obey God. For where He guides, He provides. he knew exactly what Suzi and the family needed that day, and provide it, using this off key singer to bring joy to a funeral. And if I can sing before a crowd, imagine what you with talent from God can do?

Go ahead and sing the tune, using Amazing Grace as the words. Lee's funeral turned out to be amazing, and full of grace, all because of Jesus.

For God and for country-He still continues to shine His grace on you today! Just try to get that tune out of your head! But never let Him out of your heart!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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size matters

Size matters. If it doesn't, then why look? Why don't you just pick whatever box looks right and buy it? Because-size does matter. And so does price. Which should equal an equation of value. And since the economic recession, size matters more. Less or no income-that size really matters. But when shopping, have you noticed how cereal prices are the same, but the amount inside has dropped? Same with chips, which used to be 16 oz. bags, are now 11 oz. bags, but the same price. Even Coca Cola now sells a 14 oz. bottle, when they used to sell a half liter for the same price. Pooey on those who advertise more for less, it is really less for the same, because size matters!

Andrew and I had lunch at a Red Robin yesterday. It had been awhile, and I remember big burgers, and lotsa fries. Now-they advertise "bottomless fries," and the five that showed up on my plate was embarrassing. Until the girl brought my replacement plate, and when combined still wasn't as large as they were before. But you were under the impression you were getting more. I think. Same with endless drinks. Charge way more, use more ice, and where I used to drink two large diets, yesterday I had five! Endless, and bottomless-there has to be an end to it all somewhere! Before I hit bottom!

Does size matter to bikers? It does if you have a 103 motor instead of a 96 cubic inch. Don't tell anyone the smaller engine is a better engine, and has more horsepower potential. Size matters-sometimes just to the ego. So go to Red Robin to unwind, and for an ego boost. Years ago a 1000cc bike was the most powerful and the way to go. Now today a 600cc will run with them, the only difference being the quality of the rider. And again size matters, as look at how small all the racers are, big guys like me can't compete-no matter our cubic inches. So to try to keep the races equal, you can't ride a three cylinder against a four cylinder 600, but can against a 750. You can run your 1100cc Ducati twin against a four cylinder 1000. And in the dirt, you can run your four stroke 250 in the 125 class with two strokes, or your 450 with 250 two strokes. Does size matter to these guys? Does winning? Or do you remember when we rode for fun? I think I need a Big Gulp.

Do you know the soft drink industry measures performance on cases sold, based on 8 oz. bottles in the case? They used to fill you up, now a Big Gulp of 44 oz. sometimes isn't enough. It seems as our thirst goes up, so does the size. And Bottomless and Endless just can't fill the need. Maybe it is true, there is truly no substitute for cubic inches.

Satisfied? Probably not. We still like to think we are getting a deal. Ten cents each or two for a quarter? I have been with guys who have bought the quarter deal. So I read the signs for dollar deals at the fast food restaurants. And shop wisely-I want to get the most for my money. And I want to get the most from my God. I don't want deals, free refills, or a bigger God. I want the most, or the most blessings I can get. I want all of God I can-and believe me, I need Him. Zechariah 4 tells us not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of Hosts. Our God is mighty, and reflects it via His love for us. But mighty means exercising it in battle. And you can lose, if you don't trust God. Power means adding numbers to your might, and who doesn't want or need more power. Talk to the guys buying dyno time for $100/hour. Just to get a few more horsepower. When all they need to cruise at 70mph is 15! But it is God's spirit, that can guide, and power us in all situations. But it also does things that power and might don't. The Spirit gives peace and comfort. Joy, love, patience, goodness, kindness, meekness, and self control. Power and might don't. They just bring more against you, so you need more power and might.

Size matters, but not the size of your God, although ours measures the universe by the size of His hand, but by the the size of His love. And that love is Jesus. Free refills-in fact the fountain is bottomless, and endless. No deceptive advertising-He is love, and died for you while still sinning. He doesn't run specials, doesn't change the product to meet conditions, and doesn't need more cc's or horsepower. His grace is sufficient-never too little, never too much, never too soon, and never too late. Sufficient. Perfect. I like that. That is a choice I can make without reading the labels.

You see size matters. When the store can sell you a 2 liter for 79 cents, and you buy a 20 oz. for $1.50, profit is what matters more. Profit today on making the right investment-Jesus Christ. Guaranteed-the most bang for the buck, and a peace to enjoy it all.

Yes, go ahead, super size my meal. My dinner guest is picking up the tab. When it was time, He paid the price. That I couldn't. Now that's a deal. He bought the first round, and the crowd has never gotten smaller.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

what if the apostles had a career counselor?

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" we are often asked when we are younger. And depending on the age, and audience, we want to be anything from a fireman to a doctor or lawyer. It pleases our family to hear we will become a doctor-free medical they joke, but don't realize you have to get sick to benefit from it. For like mercy, you have to screw up to get it. Or becoming a lawyer, and we all see our children as Perry Mason, but don't realize all the hours put into one case just for the short time before the judge. Sounds more like life.

And as we get older, we change direction. Based on skills, or desires, we can change daily. I wanted to work in the motorcycle industry until I did, and all the guys riding through on nice days while I had to work helped me change my mind. I know many who made the military a career, but had no idea they would have to go into battle. I had a friend in college who would base his major on what girls were in his classes, as far as I know he never graduated. But he did get an education!

Perhaps the key words here are "growing up." Some people are born old, with such a sense of responsibility they never enjoy life. I used to feel sorry for them, but now I am thankful for them, so I don't have to be. Doctors have a short life expectancy. And the lawyers I know are usually on the verge of burn out. For it is true, the more money I ever made, more than my education should have merited, the more it exacted from me-physically, emotionally, and spiritually. But for all the above desires of men, and women, the common bond is desire-ambition. We wanted to be something. To achieve a goal. We wanted to show the world. When we really should be showing God. And I have met some who are always on that path, but never getting there. And others who have made it in their field, and never have time to enjoy it. My friend Ted in New Mexico was part of a very rich family, but yet had no privacy. When we went out, people would always have a deal for him, and he had no privacy. And maybe very few friends, because they all had a angle to work him for. I met a man at the Long Beach Motorcycle Show back when it was in Anaheim. He was sitting at a kiosk, and we talked for awhile. Motorcycles, and other things. I was starting to leave and he asked, "did I want a signed poster?" "Of who," I asked. "Me," he laughed. His name was Eddie Lawson, World Champ. But until that time, he was just a guy who shared bikes and other common denominators. I never did get a poster, I prefer to remember him as I had met him.

Ambition-don't let it come between you and God. I watch as businessman choose a career over their families. If they put business over family, how can they be trusted with real things of value-or values? And as men choose work over spouses, although to be fair, there are other reasons men work late-they don't want to come home, gifts are a poor substitute when they could be giving themselves. But true to their hearts, I have also watched men deny the offer of a promotion to stay with his family. Where his kids are worth more than the things he could buy them if he had a larger income. Of being there for his wife, rather than sending her candy, he was there to share it with her.

Don't let ambition get between you and God. True success is measured through His eyes, not yours. Ask yourself, what is the motive for your career? Has God given you a gift, or are you consumed with making it in the world? Are you measuring success on monetary gain-someone will always make more. On career goals-the goals will change. Or are you wanting to please God, and make Him the success in your life? Tough questions, but I have always found it best to be where God wants me to be. It is lonely out there without Him, and no amount of time away from Him will be satisfied with fame or fortune. Live within your means, and within the desires that He has given you. If a doctor, doctor for the Lord. A lawyer, serve in truth. A waitress, serve as unto the Lord. But as a parent or spouse, commit your works to the Lord, and your plans will be well established.

For just like meeting Eddie, it is more important that I have committed my life to God, than to just getting a signed poster. I met Eddie, but don't know him. Only about him. Don't be able to say the same about Jesus.

I may never grow up-not my ambition. But I do desire to grow in Jesus. What do you do for a living? Me-I'm a Christian. Great benefits-let me tell you about the retirement program! And Joe and Mary's kid, just a carpenter?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the Steve McQueen of bicycles

Mine was colored green-Flamboyant Green they called it. A bright, lime green, unlike any color ever seen a bike before. And it had no fenders, 20" wheels, and a seat termed a banana seat-long, white and way cool. But the rear tire, a slick-like on drag racing cars told you this bike was serious fun. It was called the Sting Ray, and it was made by Schwinn. Back in the sixties when adding chrome, or headlights, baskets, racks, or streamers was cool, this bike was stripped down to nothing. The first bicycle Bobber if you will, and it reeked of cool. Even the name Sting Ray said cool-for any red blooded American boy knew about the Corvette Sting Ray-and even though your dad would never own one, you could have your own Sting Ray!

But they weren't cheap, at $49.95 they were $10 more than the basic Typhoon, a lot of money in the time of nickel candy, 12 cent comics and 25 cent Mad magazines. But I had one, and so did my sister-hers was purple with a white basket, with the not so cool name of Fair Lady, but still a Sting Ray. I think. And thanks to my Grandma, I was probably the coolest guy to ever ride one out of Scotch Plains Cycle Center. And when my parents finally relented and let me ride it home-all 4 miles across Scotch Plains via Fanwood, I hurried, but went real slow past the group of kids my age-for I had a Sting Ray! And they didn't! When my friends would ask "could they have a ride," I had the power of no. But soon Scottie, Bruce, and Barry would have a short ride, and tell everyone how cool it was-making you even cooler, at least until they had their own. And we all did, but many weren't Sting Rays, but look-a-likes, but my Flamboyant Green Sting Ray was the coolest.

And we would do some customizing, mine even had a tiger striped, velour seat, that molted the first time I got it wet. And like Harley does today, Schwinn took the basic bike, and added 2, 3, and 5 speed shifters-even had a Fastback model with a huge shifter right on the crossbar. Springer front ends, Schwinn had them, too. And as they got heavy, expensive, and a custom styling exercise, they never quite captured the coolness of the original. And in the back of my mind, I wonder did Willie G. get his initial styling impressions from the Sting Ray? Was he really a closet Sting Ray kid at heart? But for me, it started me on the path of lighter, simpler machines. If it don't need it, don't add it. A Bobber mentality, but built for action. Maybe that is why I ride a Street Triple, and am nuts over the new Speed Triple. Built for action, and able to compensate for my lack of ability via superb brakes and handling. With an attitude of let's see what I can do. And just sitting one one made you cool. And it all started 46 years ago with my Sting Ray.

And maybe that is why I am so taken by the gospel. It is simple, but built for performance. It is all about Jesus, with nothing added. No fenders to add weight, a cool seat for sitting on and spending time with Him, and a slick-for doing your skids and putting more power to the ground when you need it. No rules-you have freedom! So God made the gospel simple so we could all get it. Just Jesus, keeping the main thing the only thing. No Jesus and performing for salvation. No gotta be baptized and join our church to be saved. No hoping you would make it, but blessed assurance, based on faith. Simply put, believe in your heart that Jesus is God, and rent, and be saved. Confess with your mouth, you just can't keep Him inside. For like my first Sting Ray ride, you have to show Him off-in love of course. And like riding my new bike home, no break in miles needed, no waiting to be accepted. You are in the moment you accept Him. And if your church, pastor, denomination, or cult has a problem with that, refer them to Ephesians 2:8-10. For salvation, like my Sting Ray, is a gift. I could never earn that bike, but I sure could accept it as a gift. And both that Sting Ray, and Jesus live in my heart today. But only Jesus saves.

Bikes will come and go out of your life. Don't let Jesus go the same way. Trends may come and go, but He is the same-the perfect model from the beginning. All you need, and nothing you don't. Perfection, and like my Sting Ray, love with a slick. Just for getting the love to the road you know.

There would be other bikes, then girls, then motorcycles to fight for my attention. But next to Jesus, they always come in second. And second place is not first loser when Jesus is first in your life. Seek Him first, and let Him add all things to your life. Just make mine Flamboyant Green, but please-no tiger seat!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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I'd rather be old school than an old fool

This is for all those who remember Saturday mornings as a kid. For all you guys who loved the smell of your new US Keds-United States Keds that is. Or their competition, PF Flyers. White high tops were my preference. Remember the smell of the denim and rubber, and how you would save the box just to smell it sometimes? It helped them stay new, at least in your mind. And then you would get on your Schwinn or Rollfast and ride-we never cruised, the neighborhood, riding past the fresh cut yards, even being able to tell the difference between the grass cut by the old push mowers and the new power mowers-all built, like your bikes, in the US of A. And sometimes , your dad would send you for gas for the mower, twenty five cents worth, that was pumped from American wells, and the tetra ethyl smell that came from it seemed heavenly. Invented by an American engineer at General Motors, the largest corporation in the world. American. And after that, the dads in the neighborhood would wash their cars, and the new car smell from the Morrokide-particularly strong on new Chevies and Pontiacs, would cause you to pause and inhale deeply. Somehow Fords and Chryslers with their nylon interiors never had quite the same aroma. Even on a station wagon. There again-made in the USA.

Once a month you went for a haircut-not a styling. And the aroma of the Bay Rum, or the talc was purely American. And no girls. This was for boys, 'er men only. And the aroma would only last until mixed with the sweat of running and playing with friends.

Playing catch with your friends, your glove, American cowhide, would produce its own pleasant aroma. Remember how you held it in front of your face, just to catch a whiff? I still have my Mickey Mantle Fastback model, the first one. Paid $7.99 plus got a book of How to Play Baseball with it, by the Mick. A big deal in 1967. And when mixed with the smell of fresh grass on your jeans-denim made in the US, you played America's past time with your friends. And your mom would have hamburgers for lunch, fried in a skillet-for it took too much time to light the charcoal briquettes-they were for steaks and barbeques in the evenings anyway, again, made in Michigan. On grills made in the states. You were an American, watching TV shows on your American made TV, eating domestic beef, and wearing cotton and denim clothes-all made in the US of A. We wore sneakers-never did the call them tennis shoes, and we were proud to be Americans. We were to find out though, as our 20/20 hindsight was to show us, we were the last great generation who consumed American items. We were producers, but about to become importers. Where price was more important than quality, and where it was produced didn't matter-no matter how many families were effected by the loss of their father's income. No on was offered a job in a Chinese factory, an Indian sweatshop, or a Japanese assembly line. But with no warning, we were the last generation of our kind-true Americans consuming American made products, powered by American gas, and enjoying all the great aromas that came with them.

But something stinks out there. It just doesn't smell right, and it certainly isn't pleasing. An odor, instead of an aroma. A generation that gave up all the pleasant aromas that prosperity bring, and gave them up willingly. Without a battle. Until it was too late.

Today a final generation waits for the rapture, when Jesus comes to rescue His church from the earth. And the warning signs are there, and even the movies cry out about the end of the world, but don't get it right. Something stinks,and it's us. We have given up everything we own, including our values, for valuables. We are being warned, and even given a way out. But we won't heed the message. While we wear designer tennis shoes, listen to i-pods, and complain about high taxes, we do not turn to God. The same God who shed His grace on America, but whose citizens have turned away from Him, and in many times against Him. It used to be all about Him, now it is all about us. And we cannot save ourselves from the stench we have created. We need the pleasant aroma that only Jesus Christ can bring into a life. Precious memories await us if we seek Jesus. If we turn from our wicked ways, God promises to heal our land. Maybe not take us back to a time of Schwinns and Keds, but a time of fellowship and devotion to God. If life stinks, it doesn't have too. Seek Jesus, and follow Him. Lay down on fresh grass, and take in the aroma. Open a box of Keds, and smell the canvas. Go to an old car show and stand next to a Chevy from the sixties, and inhale. But first, take a deep breath of Jesus. And hold it inside. Let it out and repeat. And experience aromas from life you never knew existed. Be part of a generation who may be the last one on earth-and can't wait to get to heaven. But you can also enjoy it now. Like the song says, the greatest treasure is for those who choose Him now.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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