Thursday, June 6, 2013

striking a pose






When BH and I first moved to our apartment in Piscataway-how’s that for a name, we lived down the street from a huge Union Carbide plant, which had an old fashioned picnic grove and park for its employees. Top notch with picnic tables, fire pits, and horseshoe pits, volleyball, and tennis courts, it was big enough for its thousands of employees at their annual picnics. So one afternoon when riding by, noticing all the festivities, and smelling the food, we stopped to ask what was going on, and the group of men explained the picnic. Never acknowledging we didn’t work there, we found another entrance and walked in, and when asked where we worked, said accounting, hoping this was a blue collar picnic, and we relatively clean shaven at the time. Upon getting in, we ate, played, and mingled with other “co-workers,” being careful to never admit who we were or how we had gained illegal entrance. We walked their walk, talked their talk, and had a great time, even calling Cooper to come join us, another non-co-worker. And we vowed to make this an annual event for ourselves, and figured if it worked here, the same ruse would work other places. Which sometimes it did, when at a huge affair at Pompano Park Racetrack in Florida, we had crashed a party, and someone was onto us. When approached by security, in tuxedoes, BH got arrogant, and threatened to call his father,who he claimed was President of the ABA, before it merged with the NBA. He sounded so convincing, we were let go, but decided to leave on our own, others knew we were posing, just not security. But we made a graceful exit, got on our café racers, and left. With some serious phone numbers form serious women, who could tell we didn’t fit in, but were in love with our bad boy image. Which seemed to make us more attractive than money-go figure.
In the biker world many posers are among us today. New shiny leathers, leather vests, and trying to act cool, when cool is not an act, and cannot be faked, they stick out like our Triumphs at a Harley rally, except our Triumphs are usually surrounded by those who remember them, cool, another sure give away of a poser, they don’t know motorcycles. 20 Grand and 20 miles doesn’t make you a biker, but somehow they mange to stay within their own peer group, a joke to some, to some irritating, because they act and dress like they think a biker does, and end up giving themselves a bad name, along with bikers. We have enough of a public relations problems on our own, we don’t need no stinkin’ posers to add to it. And posers show up in all social circles, from the fat dad who knows all about baseball and grinds his kid, who has even less talent than him, thinking that both of themselves are the greatest. The women who cannot sing and cannot understand why she is never asked to be part of a chorus, yet will sing to an audience on her on, showing them no mercy. Girls in fake leather, silicone sisters who deny their surgery, poor guys pretending to be rich by trying to impress the rich, and it goes on and on. Fed by ego, they try to go upstream socially, by putting you down if needed, just to elevate themselves. It’s like I told a heckler one time, trying to impress his date by his obvious superior breeding, questioned my background. Without getting into it, I calmly asked, “what do you do?” Proudly he answered, “I’m an accountant.” “Really,” I said, “I have one of those.” Game, set, match to me. Poser. Turn on the lights and the rats scatter, but sometimes there are more rats than daylight...like in some churches.
I have yet to find a church that is in tune with God where posers do not try to enter it and contaminate it. Most churches even have security aware of these types, and out here we know some by name, if not reputation. They talk the talk, but often just try to infiltrate a body, spreading their own gospel. Some truth in what they say, but not the truth. Most noticeably we see some hard core types, who usually sit up front to be noticed, and draw attention to themselves. They call each other Brother, Sister, and sound so pious. Yet afterwards, don’t mingle, yet segregate themselves outside, identified by a different mantra than inside, they are the ones smoking under the No Smoking sign, telling off color jokes, and when a photo op occurs, they invade it. I see them at funerals trying to attract attention to themselves, and PRIDE is their biggest asset, you can only imagine their others. But the real church can tell, even if they are lying to themselves. Sadly some know exactly what they are doing-which is even worse yet. And they can get dangerous, and some think that all Christians are like them-glad we’re not. It reminds me of when in high school, we used to go by black bars to get beer, we were underage, and they were the seedier places. One night with Bruce Hill, a State Champ heavyweight wrestler, he told us if we had any problems, just call them brother, and that was cool. But when Bruce went in to get served, and didn’t return, we got brave and looked for him in the alley, where he was found all beaten and bruised. Usually Bruce inflicted the beating, and when asked what happened, replied, “I called some guy brother, and he said you ain’t my brother, and a bout 6 guys dragged me out and beat me.” We learned our lesson that night. And a poser payday awaits those that fake it with Jesus. But for now, there is still mercy to be had.
God tells us to work out our salvation daily with fear and trembling, not getting saved again, or in fear of losing it, but to inspect who we are in Christ. To work on our witness, see if we are bearing fruit, or are we just playing church. If you don’t you can become like the two kids playing school, one was the teacher, the other was absent. And our actions will say more than our words. I hear people arguing over things that will not keep you from heaven, getting into social issues. I heard one man say he can’t wait to sit down and drink beer with Jesus, that’s not in the scriptures. He is saved, but has gotten some bad doctrine, and like I told him, his words and actions may not keep him out heaven, but they will others. If the world sees us acting like them, yet proclaiming heaven, they think they can do the same. How many have been led astray by your selfish actions and viewpoints? Is that the gospel Jesus showed us, or is it your own? Think about your smoking, cussing, and womanizing next time-someone is watching thinking those things are OK, they are not. They are sins not leading to death, only denial of Jesus is the sin leading to death. Sin is sin, always will be-is that the evangelism you want? True those things won’t keep you out of heaven, but they may others. It is times like these that you would like to strike the poser for striking the pose. Only Jesus can change the heart, has He changed yours?
The Beatles sang “We can work it out,” and we can with Jesus. So can you. Join the chorus today, learn all the words instead of just humming along.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com



And we know you're a poser if...

  • You spit out the bug that just flew in your mouth. 
  • You spend more time shining your bike than riding it. 
  • You're too cool to wave at the kids in the mom-mobile in front of you. 
  • You grab for your hairbrush before your old lady. 
  • You take your bike into the shop for oil changes. 
  • Your $500 boots aren't scuffed from riding. 
  • You think that a kick-starter is a mocha latte. 
  • You set at least one mirror, if not both, to reflect yourself. 
  • Your saddle bags say "Gucci". 
  • You carry a lap-top in your saddle bags. 
  • Your tattoos wash off. 
  • You put your pony-tail back in the drawer after you get home. 
  • You won't ride down a gravel road. 
  • You've never seen a sunrise from two wheels. 
  • You only ride on weekends, when you can. 
  • You never ride to work. 
  • All your leathers match. 
  • There are no wrinkled, faded, creased, or scratched areas on your leathers. 
  • You don't own a rain suit. 
  • You've never ridden long enough to know that stock seats are never comfortable. 
  • You've never had to replace a worn out tire. 
  • You've had to replace your tires, but because they were too old and not too worn. 
  • You like to ride by stores with big picture windows so you can admire your reflection. 
  • You ride a Ducati. 
  • Your longest road trip this year was to Hooter's for bike night.