the two sides of a circle

Many songs have been sung about circles, “Will I Go Around in Circles?” “Will the Circle be Unbroken?” or just “Circles,” by various artists from The Who to Mariah Carey.  A dog will chase its tail , running in circles, NASCAR races in circles, and I get sick riding on Merry Go Rounds in circles.  The tires on my bike are circular, so are the donuts I should avoid.  Ever wonder that manhole covers are round?  So they won’t fall in the hole, which also is a circle, no matter how they are dropped.  Try that with anything square if you don’t believe me.  So circles appear to be the shape of choice for many things in our daily lives that we cannot do without, or do with without knowing.  The moon travels around the earth that travels around the sun in circles.  Yes sang a song about circles, “Roundabout.”  When you spill something it will end up circular-don’t ask me why on that one.  Pistons and cylinders are round, ask Honda why they are after their oval cylinder failed.  Handlebars are round, flat tires aren’t and some people are fun to be around, while some are not.  We read the cartoon, The Family Circle.  Crop circles anyone?  So the circle, may be understated, underappreciated, and taken for granted. 

Life shows us we will come full circle, as the cartoon shows us in diapers when young, and again in old age.  Records are circular, as are CD’s, but not cassettes, although the tape is wrapped around one-really two.  We put things off, sayings we “will get around to them later,” and The Beach Boys first number one hit was “I Get Around.”  Numbers get rounded off to the closest digit, baseballs and basketballs are round and will roll, but a football won’t.  We sing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” in a round, and some think they were a big wheel until they found out that squares don’t roll.  Some are in a squirrel cage, on a treadmill, a circle.  Need more ammunition, bullets are called rounds.  So here is to the ubiquitous circle which has been around forever, and has no plans for not being around.  Just remaining round. 

Ask any kid how many sides does a triangle have and they’ll know three.  A square has four, a pentagon five, a hexagon six, and an octagon eight.  After that we have to take our shoes off to count.  But how many sides does a circle have?  Hmmm, got me there, for it  has no edges of demarcation.  It is round....one maybe?  But where does it start and where does it end?  Is the circle the one thing in the universe that has an endless side, or is it all an illusion?  A trick question for extra credit in Mrs. Parks class?  Go look at one, and you tell me, how many sides does a circle have?  The answer is right there, and so evident that you may be seeing it but don’t see it at all.  The answer is two-and inside and an outside.  Two sides...like I said, it is right there for all to see. 

A great Christian poet, named Markham once while doodling, again circles, was inspired by the circles he was drawing and wrote,

“I drew a circle and shut him out, heretic, rebel, a thing to flout?  But love and I had the wit to win, we drew a circle that drew him in.”  An interesting look at how we go through life, with or without Jesus.  We are born in sin, and shut God out of lives, until the spirit moves on us and we make a decision, Christ or not.  If no, we keep him on the outside of the circle of our lives.  But many saved saints do also, they never get personal with him, never letting him into the inner circle of their hearts, and miss out on the blessings of knowing him.  It’s called religion.  The poet saw the circle as a reminder of God’s perfect love for us, of how he takes us in, despite us wanting to shut him out.  Is it a coincidence that a shutout in baseball is all zeroes?  Circles?  Which side of the circle is God in your life?  On the outside looking in, or even on the inside wanting to get out?  Is he infinite in your life as his love for you is, or just a doodling on a page, while you make a decision about who he is?  A circle is perfect, and when out of round no longer a circle, but still circular, and can appear round when viewed.  Is your life out of round, does it give the appearance of being perfect, when really it not round, but oval, because God is not around in it?  Or is it like a manhole cover, wobbling around looking for a way in, but never finding it because it can’t?  You cannot force it, try it with a lid and jar.  And now see why God doesn’t force himself on us.  For he is perfect, and the circle is the only perfect shape, for when it loses it shape is no longer a circle.  Has God lost his place in your perfect life? 

Today is the day of salvation, for those who told God “when I get around to it.”  Don’t put off Christ when you can be around him right now, and find hope and forgiveness.  For God’s love is infinite, just like the symbol for infinity is two circles, interwoven.  Which never end, forever.  Just like his love.  Like he wants us to be with him, a perfect circle of love.  Innie or outie, the choice is yours.  Infinity is a long, long time, hope to see you around.  Choose Jesus before your life spirals out of control.

Is that why they call them prayer circles instead of prayer squares?  So don’t dishonor the circle, don’t you see its pointless?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.

basket cases

As a young athlete, we all get excited and dream of being the one who throws the winning touchdown, catching it, hitting the homerun with 2 out in the ninth, or making the game winning shot with two seconds left.  “We win!”  And it is me that made the difference!  While on the other side, a lineman almost got to the quarterback, a safety almost intercepted it, a pitcher almost blew one by the batter, and the last shot was almost blocked.  Winners and losers based on one brief moment in a contest, neglecting the other 59 minutes of the game, the other 3 and a 1/2 quarters, and the other 39 minutes of the game.  We are focused on that one moment in time, the one that makes the difference, all the rest are forgotten.  And like in life, one key play seems to make the difference, we just don’t find out until after the game is over.

I played on some very good basketball teams, our freshman team was unbeatable.  We were beating competitors by 40-50 points, and every player on the team got to play.  We were unbeatable it seemed, and our egos showed it.  We had done all we wanted to do, except score 100 points in a game.  We had come close, but never reached it.  Finally in a game against Maxon, we were close, and the coach let the starters in, including me.  We were hot, stealing, rebounding missed shots, and not missing most of our own.  But as the final seconds ticked away, it looked hopeless, as the Maxon coach didn’t want the embarrassment of having 100 points scored against him.  So with two seconds left, we had the ball, and I was fouled.  On purpose, as I was an OK foul shooter, just not the best.  And in their minds the best risk.  And at 99 points, all we could see was the 00 showing up on our scoreboard, there was no room for a 100 point game, so 100 would show as 00.  And it was laid upon me to make it happen.  The dream I had lived over and over in my mind was here in front of me.  The crowd was crazy, my team mates were cheering, but I was scared.  And my first shot of two was nothing but air.  If the basket had been only 18” closer, but it wasn’t and I missed everything...except the floor below.  Now really scared, the crowd got louder, and my last chance at glory, to be remembered as the one who scored the 100th point, or missed the 100th point,  was about to happen.  Lining it up, I remembered the three rules to foul shooting, fingertip control, back spin, and follow through.  And as the ball left my hands, it looked good, but seemed to take forever.  And then, nothing but net!  I had made the shot!  The scoreboard showed 00, the fans went crazy, and my team mates mobbed me.  I was a hero, forget about the other 99 points, I had scored the 100th, and that would be the one that would be remembered.  If only they knew how close I had come to obscurity...

Now missing the first shot was humbling, missing the next shot would have been humiliating.  It seemed all my skills, all the practice shots, and all the personal efforts would have meant nothing if I had missed the shot.  Now Paul was no basketball player, but was a star in his own right.  As a Pharisee, head of the Sanhedrin, and a powerful Jewish man, he had held the jackets of those who stoned Stephen.  He had run amok dragging Christians from their homes and persecuting them.  He knew the law, was driven by it, and found no place for Christ in it.  Until one day when Jesus appeared to him, and his whole world changed.  But based on his training, he now hoped to witness to the Jews, and save the very ones who he represented at one time under the law.  Humbled by God, he was about to be humiliated, as the plan for his life was to minister to the Gentiles, the ones he believed were made for the fires of hell.  None of his religious training would help him now, without the spirit he would fail.  And fail he did, as one night he has to be smuggled over a wall, in a basket, by his new brothers in Christ, his old Jewish friends wanting to kill him.  He left the city in utter defeat, rejection, humiliation, and failure.  What he had set out to do on his own led to his failure.  Which he would record later was a changing point in his life, and how humiliation had humbled him, brought him closer to Jesus.  He would go on to write that this failure had made him see how he could no longer be his own man, and that without Jesus he would be able to do nothing.  He was about to learn first hand that Jesus doesn’t need your abilities, but your availability!  And that we can do all things through Christ that strengthens us.  Just as for every victory, every shot made the other team has failed for the moment, we do in Christ.  We think we can do anything instead of all things, we forget about Christ in the actions, and want all the praise.  We want to make the shot, to win the game, to get the adulation.  But scripture tells us that as well as doing all things in Christ’s name, that also without him we can do nothing. 

It was when he realized that Jesus didn’t need his knowledge, his training, his experiences, his contacts, or his background and knowledge of the laws, that he could be used, and in a way that he never would have expected.  He would be sent out to the Gentiles, and in doing so was taking on the yoke of Christ.  Probably not known at the time, but in looking back saw how God has used his humiliation to prepare him for his purpose.  For me it was only a missed shot, but a humbling experience.  What was it for you?  Or has it happened yet?  For to be used effectively by Christ we must conform to him, we must be humbled in his sight, and know in our heart that without him we can do nothing.  And have the record to prove it without the spirit. 

And so in Christ we aren’t to be a big shot, or to live for that final shot.  When we seek glory in the world, it is short lived.  When we follow God’s will it will provide eternal consequences.  The small things we are told to do will count heavy as opposed to the big things we do that impress others.  Esteeming yourself on your own will fall short in eyes of God, if you depend on yourself you are evaluated as nothing by heavenly standards.  That night in a basket Paul learned this lesson, and took the yoke of Jesus upon him.  One night of tragedy turned into a life led by the spirit, and confessing Jesus to all he met.  One night a basket made changed my life, I had been humbled by a missed shot, don’t you be.  Don’t miss the only shot at heaven in Jesus Christ.  I was given another chance to make the shot and I did.  I look back and see now that being humbled is better than being humiliated, and in God’s mercy he gave me another shot to make it.  We only get mercy after we have screwed up or failed, and true mercy is only found in Jesus.  There were other games, and other shots to make, but those are the only ones I remember. 

You will not make every shot in life, but you will win the race in Jesus.  And that is what counts.  The box score showed only my attempts and shots made, it didn’t record the 100th point one.  Statistics are cold like that, when the box score is read of your life, will it show a victory or a loss?  Who made the shots or who called them?  For Paul the most important basket he made changed his life.  “Up in the air, around the rim...” for Paul it was in the basket.  I guess that makes him a basket case?  Are you? 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

vacate-no vacation without it

As we sat at Oceanside Harbor yesterday, I was amazed at the amount of boats of all shapes and sizes that call it home.  It must be in the hundreds, at least in the dozens, and while a few slips were empty, the majority were full.  And on this beautiful, but windy day, only a few were seen actually out on the water.  An expensive hobby, from purchase, to rental, to upkeep, just to use on high days and holidays.  A lifestyle if you will not for the faint of wallet, as just the upkeep, particularly of those that sit in salt water would be prohibitive to me.  Add the cost of fuel, $300 for a fill up, and my head is spinning, must be sea sickness, or something like it.  And while the only people I saw on the boats still secured were working on them, I wonder how much is labor vs. how much is labor of love.  So I’ll pass on water going crafts, although I still like jet skis, but would never own one.

My neighbor brought his motor home, his RV home last week for its annual smog and tune up, before it goes on a week long trip.  Telling me how economical it is to travel in, he has to spend hundreds for a tune up and safety inspections before he can use it, $200 in gas to leave, and then go sit for another 51 weeks.  Doing the math, say his payment is $500/month, I can hear the sales pitch of how it “only costs less than $18/day to travel in.”  But the payments go on for 365 days/year whether it sits or is used....$6000/year plus license, plus maintenance, plus gas and oil, plus incidentals, and it is very expensive.  Even RV parks have gotten expensive, and I rather spend $100/night for AC and a pool rather than sleep in what I drove in on.  Even at half the rate, would you sleep in your car?  Yet hundreds of thousands of the RV’ers clog the roads each summer.  Driven, or rather guided by those who possess no special license, and many times towing a Prius or other suitable vehicle behind.  Even a Harley or two can be seen on carriers, and the real rich will carry their toy hauler behind.  As I look for a place to pass as they tie up the freedom of the road.  Cousin Eddie lived in one....I rest my case. 

Now although I will never own an RV or a boat, I do get why someone would, and why they do.  But for me and many others, the open road means two wheels, wind in our face, and miles of smiles.  Our chosen mode of escape that can be used any day, not just on vacations.  And although the cost of entry has risen, is nowhere near boats or RV’s.  Less expensive, and even for those that motorcycle camp, a huge cost savings.  But today bikes pull trailers, can weigh over 1000 pounds, and cost over $30,000.  Not a cheap sport any more.  But is it?  Visiting with friends years ago, he had just spent his 500th night in his trailer pulled by his Gold Wing.  His goal was to travel for $1/night and he had accomplished it.  I can see his point, but he didn’t see mine.  I slept in air conditioned comfort, had spent time in the pool and hot tub, watched an old movie on TV, he was hot, sleeping in a tent, surrounded by others like him.  Having to get dressed to go to the bathroom, waiting in line for a shower....public shower.  For my $75 room, who do you think got the better deal?  I don’t get it...maybe I’m not supposed to.  I rather think of other things.

So the cost of entry into recreation can be expensive, no matter what you get out of it.  But just like you need to vacate to be on vacation, you need to recreate in an RV.  What do you dream of 52 weeks a year to spend your 2 weeks off on?  And so we have been counting down the days until we leave on our next trip, 18 and counting.  A new bike this year, a Triumph Tiger 800, the old Tiger retired at over 102,000 miles, and 48 states and Canada.  Its last trip in March, a thousand mile weekend.  And I cannot wait to see how the new one performs.  Only 11 states this time, mostly back roads, and thousands of memories waiting to be made.  What ever the cost of entry will be worth it, and like the RV or boat payments that continue even when not in use, so will my home mortgage.  But we will vacate...our dream of being on the road.  A dream we live every weekend in shorter distances, but always look forward to the big one.  And the people we will meet along the way.

In between the miles, the places, the meals, and the rain, it is the people you meet that make each event.  The conversations, the bench racing, the sharing of trip notes, the meeting those who ride and get it makes the trip.  It will always come down to the people, for no matter how much fun, or not, the ride needs to be shared to be appreciated.  Time spent in prayer when planning, then finally going.  It is all about the people you meet along the way.  A man from Tarsus, Saul, had been a violent persecutor of Christians.  Yet when he met Jesus along the Damascus Road, and his life changed, he needed people to help him.  So God sent two men, named Judas and Ananias, to guide him.  Imagine if God told you to greet a serial killer, a bike club member into your home, because they had been changed by Jesus?  Would you obey the spirit?  When you were first saved, who did God send your way to help?  How many of us experienced the love of Christ via other Christians, giving us hope and support?  Here we see two men with ironic names, Judas who betrayed Christ, no Judas who will guide a new convert, and Ananias, a priest who tried Jesus, to disciple him.  Maybe God does have a sense of humor.  But the key here is praying, as God told these men to pray, to show the love of Christ through them, and he will make the changes.  The first mark of a Christian, prayer, talking to God, and hopefully listening also.  And here we see the persecuted and persecutor having roles switched, the one who hunted now needing sanctuary, the hunted providing it.  Makes no sense, but to God it makes perfect sense.  God told Ananias “you don’t need to fear a man who prays.” 

And so Saul begins to enjoy the Christian life, the joy of Jesus, by those ministering to him.  We never know who we will meet along the road.  But God does.  Whether in a four wheeled wobbly box, or on a 180 hp motorcycle, nothing surprises him.  And he has put Christians on water, in the desert, and in the mountains, who will minister to someone, when the chance shows up.  My friend who spent 500 nights in his trailer spent many around a campfire sharing Jesus.  How many desk clerks can be ministered to by just being nice?  How many boaters throw out the life preserver to many who don’t know they are drowning in sin?  Some hobbies and lifestyles are more expensive than others, but God has put Christians in each one, to go and be the gospel.  So it should come as no surprise who he sent for Saul.  Only we are surprised who God sends, and even more surprised when he sends us.  To some ministering will be laborious, to others a labor of love.  Some will count the costs, some will lay them on Christ.  Some will haul a Harley, some will ride one.  But in each case, we find those who need Jesus, and those who God will send to minister to them.  We count the costs, and although we prefer to travel by motorcycle, the cost benefits are an aside, an added blessing.  Just like the incurred higher costs are an aside to the RV’er, or the boat owner.  Not everything comes down to dollars and sense.  How can you put a price on what Jesus did for us?  Or are you still seeking a cheaper salvation?  Why work for it if it is free to all?  Why sit at home and worry when the road is calling, and the spirit is telling you “you need Jesus?” 

So get out where the Bible comes alive, on the road.  Where Jesus ministered.  Even in a boat, where again Jesus ministered.  Where the action is.  Vacate, not stay cate.  A whole new world of excitement is calling, what is your answer?  Some boats never leave the harbor, some bikes the garage.  Some Christians never leave the church building.  We know who you are, do you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

I think I need a ride

The early eighties were a wonderful time to be a motorcycle rider, as if any time isn’t a good time to ride.  But with the four Japanese makers going head to head, horsepower growing by leaps and bounds, and only inflation against us, we had many choices to cover our 24.9% interest rates.  The magazines were filled with ads, a catalog compared to today’s thin, and physically smaller excuses.  And a generation of riders who never knew soaked feet from tickling carbs, breaking an ankle from the kick starter coming back at them, and no British motorcycles to excite them.  All Jap brands ended in a vowel, and sounded Japanese, only BMW, Moto Guzzi, and Ducati were Euro, and Harley provided the only American brand.  Much different than the brands available today.  But these young Japanese companies, some only in the states since 1955, others only making bikes for less than 20 years, had taken over the market.  And now competed against each other instead of the Brits.  And one company, Kawasaki, decided to run a contest via one of the magazines, “design the perfect motorcycle.”  We had numerous bench racing sessions about how we would do it, and even one guy sent in his style of blueprints.  An exciting time, as we actually thought the factory was listening, when in reality they were trying to unload the warehouses from overbuying, hoping they could sell them all.  Making it possible to buy a year old new bike for substantially less, if you could live without the current colors.  But the future was still exciting, and with 6 cylinder Hondas, 100 horsepower Suzukis, and shaft drive Yamahas, Kawasaki held its ground, although the Z-1 was nearing 10 years old, retirement age then for motorcycles.  So the contest may have been more hype the genuine interest, but one creative type took it upon himself to enter a current year Suzuki as the motorcycle Kawasaki should build.  And in the spirit of competition, and fun, remember when riding a motorcycle was all about fun, the magazine supporting the contest gave it an honorable mention.  I cannot say if it helped ether bike’s sales, but we all got a good laugh out of it. And Kawasaki continued to let the good times roll. 

But we were at an age and interest level where each road test was read, rather studied.  That 1/10 of a second in the quarter swayed more than one decision of what to buy.  Rear disc brakes, comfortable seats, a tank that held enough gas, and factory bags and windshields made Windjammers, drum brakes, and worn out seats less desirable.  My old Z-1 seat had gotten so hard my friend used to joke “the only reason they put a cover on it was so it wouldn’t rust.”  Dainty posteriors would never accept the old seats of yore.  But with each new issue, each new article and road test, we became self proclaimed authorities on at least our own brands, and the debates would get heated many times.  We believed what we read, and it made a direct influence on what we rode.  We thought we were experts, much to the chagrin of an old Triumph ad, where Honda riders were enthusiasts, only Triumph riders knew their machines.  Maybe because they were fixing them more...

But we each were authorities in our own right, especially when opinions were to be accepted as fact.  And like Hondas, everyone had one or two.  We read it, so it must be true.  But still with a common denominator, we all rode.  That was the important thing, we all rode.  And many rainy days were spent at the local shop, sitting and dreaming of the next bike, if only we ever paid off the current one, with the future of what came next from the manufacturers helping us dream.  You knew the parts guy, the mechanic, usually the owner, and a salesman or two.  You talked motorcycles, roads, places to go, places traveled, whether a full face or open face helmet was better, why anyone would ride a Harley, and how could anyone afford a BMW?  Brochures were free and available, and many ended up at home on the kitchen table, or stapled to the garage walls.  A great time to be a motorcyclist, and we knew the future would only get better.  And more expensive....but we were ready.  So enough talk, let’s ride!

From the first time I entered a bike shop, I wanted to be part of the brotherhood.  The smell of racing castor, combined with smoke from two strokes and Chesterfields, was an aroma I never forgot.  We listened to the old guys tell stories, make fun of our newness, and with every joke made about us only wanted to join in more.  In a way they were accepting us, via a test, to see if we were cool, and wanted to join their ranks.  Somewhere among the girlie calendars, grease and oil, and watching guys smoke under “NO SMOKING” signs we wanted to be part of it.  Dreaming of the day when we could join in, and our stories would be told.  When important issues of which gas to use so you didn’t foul spark plugs, which header gave better power, and dreams of next year’s models filled the conversations.  But it was the old stories, the tales told of how it used to be that lit a fire underneath us, that made us look ahead by looking back.  It was about the brotherhood, and even if you rode a different brand and we made fun of you, you were a part of the brotherhood.  The important thing was you rode, the common denominator was motorcycles, and our place of worship was the road.  With small stops in between to brag on things since you last rode or met.  No last names, each one had a nickname, some we never knew their real names, and we wondered if some ever left the shop.  But we were a family of sorts, and even though out in public we were misjudged, whenever we saw another rider we waved, and acknowledged each other.  And many still do today....

After 45 years of licensed street riding and 41 years a Christian, many times the subject of brotherhood has come up, among church types.  They don’t get how we can be so different yet so accepting of those who ride, even if not what we ride.  They miss out on the brotherhood, and I wish the church would get it.  For centuries Catholics and Protestants have butted heads, Jews not accepting Jesus as savior, and the denominations have only furthered the schisms within the church.  We forget that without Jesus Christ, we share no commonality, and he unites us, not divides us.  We talk of unity in the spirit much as liberals define free speech, “as long as you agree with me.”  Churches compete for members from other churches, and call it evangelism.  Saving saints from that other denomination.  We forget we are the church, and it is built on the rock of Jesus.  And without him there is no salvation, and no church-we are the church we are rebelling against!  If only we could get the brotherhood we share of bikers to permeate the church-what a difference.

Fr. Al was a good friend of mine, a Catholic priest who died a bishop, who when offered the position called me to pray for him.  He was always in trouble with the church, he loved Jesus first, and would serve communion to whoever came for it.  He didn’t care about what church, he loved you in Christ.  And so our conversations would be about Jesus, how the spirit was important and we stayed away from religious and denominational differences.  So when he asked me to pray, I knew it was from his heart, not his denomination.  And his answer taught me a lesson, he accepted the new position, not for the title, not for the prestige.  He wanted to get out on the road and to meet more Catholics, for in his words “there are a lot of Catholics who need Jesus.”  He got it, and he understood the biker brotherhood when he started accepting us at the chapel, and wanted us to be involved.  He wanted all who came by to see true brotherhood, and how Jesus welcomed all.  Rider or not.  Saved or not.  Catholic or not.  It was all about Jesus...as it should be.  Is your church, your conversations reflective of him?  Do you accept the different, or must they change to think like you before they are accepted?  If another church ran a contest for the perfect church, would yours be an entry?  Could it?  Yet we have the example of Jesus among the disciples, 12 men, all different, who were equal in Christ.  And who when in the spirit would change the world.  I think I need a ride...

Jesus is the answer for the world today, among him there’s no other, Jesus is the way.  Do you really believe that?  Or do you just sing the songs of the Andrae Crouch song?  Bikers still wave to each other, and even though BMW riders feel superior, we love them too.  The fact we ride is more important than what we ride.  Is Jesus more important than where you go to church?  To what denomination you follow?  Lutherans, Catholics, Jews, Baptists, and those in Calvary Chapels all need Jesus.  All.  Don’t miss the chance to share the gospel today based on man made barriers.  If only the church could get the brotherhood it desires and finds within the biker community, think how it could change the world.  At the next toy run, notice how we give freely and in great numbers, but at church they accept an offering.  We meet because we want to, not because it is an appointed time.  We accept you as you are...no need to cite examples of being different in a church service.  We need Jesus, and until we follow his spirit we will always be divided.  I think I need a ride....and a wave.  From a brother...who reads his Bible as much as a bike magazine and shows what it says.  Many are called, few are riders...a brotherhood the church needs.  If only it knew it...does your pastor know you as well as your parts man?  Hmmmmm.....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Paul Drake never drove a sedan

The number two just seems right sometimes.  A motorcycle has two wheels, just as it should be.  Just like the bike you learned to ride on, a two wheeler, or a bi-cycle.  We couldn’t wait to get off that sissy three wheeler all our friends made fun of us on, it was two wheels for sure.  But the downfall, or really an attribute of two wheels is you cannot take more than one other person, ride your own or take the bus.  AKA the loser cruiser.  But two seems to work in other vehicles beside bicycles and motorcycles, it work in cars two.  Yeah I know four wheels ain’t the same, but two seaters, like the Corvette, Ferarri, the original T-Bird, and even Porsche 911’s, OK a 2+2, but really only a two seater in reality, the lack of four doors gives them a certain style.  Picture Susanne Somers in anything but a pink T-bird, it just won’t work.  Todd and Buzz on Route 66-in a sedan?  Bronson on a trike?  Would the man in the opening scene in the station wagon talked to him?  Could he have, Bronson was lane splitting?  Doubling your doors does not necessarily double your pleasure, you just increase your hauling capacity.  We have never owned an SUV, or mini-van, unless you consider our 1963 Corvair Greenbrier, we had coupes, 2 doors.  Convertibles.  Motorcycles.  Which limited the amount of kids hauled, which kept wear and tear, candy, soda, and other things from spilling and sticking, and kept us free from car pools.  Time spent in another type of pool.  Think of the cars that excited you in your youth, can you name any sedan that got you going?

Or was it a 1962 Corvette, a 1957 T-Bird, or even a Triumph Spitfire?  Maybe an MG got your attention, drop the top, feel the wind in your hair-we all had it back then, and enjoy the joy of your partner.  Sedans were for parents and old people, young people drove sports cars, or the really cool ones rode motorcycles.  But yet somehow we all knew the day of sedans was coming....but what to do in the mean time?  When Chevrolet shocked the world in 1953 with the Corvette, no one else made a two seater, let alone a sports car in the US of A.  Blame it on England for supplying us with MG’s, Austin Healey’s and Jaguars that got us going.  So when the General brought out the Corvette, it should have been a winner.  But wasn’t, but Ford had to react, and gave us the Thunderbird in 1955.  And for 3 years outsold the Corvette handily.  And then in 1958, the T-Bird went to four seats.  Still two doors, but now you could bring along your growing family, and the era of baby boomers changing wheels.  Still both niche cars, it again grew sales, and only the Corvette remained.  But added windows instead of side curtains, maybe we were progressing.  Big V-8’s, 4 on the floor, and burning rubber, was still found in Vettes and Birds, but now had moved on to muscle cars.  And all was well, as America grew up.  And added doors.

Not to be outdone, GM brought out the Buick Riviera in response to the four seat T-Bird.  Pontiac added the Grand Prix, the sign of success in the sixties, and Olds blew our minds with the Toronado, with front wheel drive!  Driven by chain! Even Cadillac’s El Dorado got front wheel drive and we called them personal cars.  We were getting older, just not growing up yet.  But in 1968 Ford upset the pecking order by adding doors to the T-Bird.  Now available as a four door, and personal luxury had taken the place of the wind in our hair.  Couples went out with other couples, safe and secure, 4 to a car, and the T-Bird was ready.  In only 10 short years, we had gone from cool, to not so cool, to “wait, pull over I need to get out!”  And soon the sexy 2 seater of Ms. Somers had become the four door sedan of our grand parents. The nameplate would live on until 1997, and a foolish looking one reborn in 2002, that no one wanted, even though it was a two seater.  Maybe Ford knew us better than we know ourselves. 

Picture Paul Drake, Perry Mason’s private investigator in anything but a two seater.  Cool in his 1957 Corvette, then his 1960 T-Bird, his 1963 T-Bird, and finally a 1968 T-Bird.  Did his investigations tell him something we didn’t?  Or did we and do we still went 4 door?  Top down motoring still the way in 1960’s America, Perry Mason only lasted until 1966.  Would Paul have been forced into a different car?  Back to a Vette?  Maybe a Jaguar XKE?  But never ever a four door.  His leap from two to four seats must have an impression on him that lasted for years.  It had on me.

Another great reason to ride motorcycles, aside from being denied access to car pools.  But in the less is more category, give me a two seat sports car anytime.  I have owned two MG’s, and known the pleasure of every English engineered part fall off or break.  Looking at used Corvettes, if the insurance doesn’t break me, the repairs will.  So I stick to my bikes, English but with no parts falling off.  Maybe someone in London forgot to turn off the lights, but times changed, and now Brit products rank as work renowned for quality.  In my lifetime many things have changed, from cars to motorcycles, fashions, music, and careers.  But one thing, cool has stayed the same.  Maybe the mode changed, but cool has and always will be from the inside out.  Not based on fashion or wheels.  Dressing cool or having a cool car won’t make you cool.  Just not as nerdy.  But one thing, the ultimate cool hasn’t changed in 2000 years.  A cool so cool many have tried to copy it, but led others astray.  Jesus Christ is cool, and no one on earth or anywhere else has been or will be that cool.  His type of cool. 
The cool of never panicking like Steve McQueen in Bullitt.  The cool of Marlon Brando in The Wild One.  The cool of James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause.  A cool that makes them stand out, but with one thing Jesus had and they didn’t.  He was God incarnate.  The others may be worshipped, but only Jesus can save.  Only he can heal, only he is God.  He is the sports car cool on a summer day, top down, enjoying God’s creation.  He is the power under control, meekness, knowing when and where to show his power.  He is the cool that forgives, he is the cool that never abandons his club, or gives up when pressured like Bullitt was.  He understands when our parents don’t or we don’t understand our kids.  He stands up for us and by us when even our friends have abandoned us.  And even on a motorcycle or sports car, two seats are enough, for he is always with you.

Yet some buy into big cars, and vans, SUV’s and bring along baggage.  Things Jesus has forgiven and forgotten.  Just because you have the space, you don’t need to foolishly fill it.  Only in Jesus, in one person do you have it all.  Part of the Trinity, 3 in 1.  Check out your religion, you relationship with God.  If once it was as exciting as a bike ride, go back to the basics.  If at onetime a two seater held all you need, go back.  In Christ you find everything you need, and nothing you don’t.  Like a 1957 T-Bird.  Like a 1963 Sting Ray.  Like any motorcycle, Jesus knew long ago the special relationship of two.  And from two wheels to two doors, just the two of you is enough. 

If your walk is weakening, or not as rewarding, maybe you need to shed some weight.  A door or two.  A seat or two.  A wheel or two.  Make it personal again, just the two of you.  For Jesus and you makes a majority, and it doesn’t stop there.  Let nothing get between you and the Lord...ever try to have a one on one conversation in an SUV with kids?  That still small voice is still calling to you, Jesus wants to show you how much he loves you.  Can you hear him above the noise?  Maybe that is why you never see a motorcycle parked in front of a psychiatrist’s office...and Corvettes are still two seaters.  We still desire intimacy, and we can only find it in Christ.  You can’t be young again, but you can be young in Christ.  Some call it a second childhood, and get ridiculed for it.  Some of us never left childhood.  Fortunately Jesus never left us, and loves us as we are.  Do you look back on how it was, or ahead on how it’s going to be?  Alfred P. Sloan once advised “you can sell an old man a young man’s car, but not an old man’s car to a younger man.”  Is your religion old and stale?  Does it need refreshing?  Maybe that young child’s God you first met in Sunday school, he didn’t change.  Boy we did.

By the way, I have owned two Thunderbirds, a 1984 and a 1995.  Both four seaters, both not convertibles.  But never a four door in sight, but that’s another story...remember Paul Drake never drove a sedan, nor did Bullitt, Johnny, or Jim Stark.  Is it possible we’re on to something here?

love with compassion,

Mike

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