Happy Birthday, USA!
Friday, 4 July 2014

It is a beautiful day on tap here in North East Ohio, the sun is shining, the air is cool, and the clouds are light and dissipating!

Though my days are really just running into one another without a break, I started today as I did yesterday with a martial arts warm up, led by my friend Bryce, a former marine, and part time martial arts instructor.

He has taken it upon himself to act as personal trainer for my friend James, a Vietnam vet, and myself. He has started us on stretches and a routine called the Eight Piece Brocade, a form of traditional Chinese Tai Chi.

http://youtu.be/wxNrGEf59hw

The above YouTube video is of his Sensei leading a class of seniors (one of the specialties of the Studio in Shaker Heights) in the Eight Piece Brocade, a no impact series of stretches and range of motion movements designed to condition and flex the human body with minimal activity.

Unlike calisthenics and other traditional workouts, these movements do not raise the heart rate or push muscles to stress. but yet, many of the same goals are achieved with greater flexibility, extended range of motion, and increased strength and balance, all things I have been working on the last 6 years, and especially after 20 weeks of Physical Therapy to repair the long term damage from my broken hip, and then the PT/OT from my Stroke Rehab, and now the needs of my circulatory system now that I am in Congestive Heart Failure!

Though I am still battling the edema from the CHF, which includes swelling and tenderness in the calves and ankles, I am finding that I can move about more easily with less pain, though I am still limited in physical abilities and must walk with a cane!

Also on a brighter note, I saw the state psychologist on Wednesday for Social Security! The first step in getting a decision on my application for disability and supplementary income.

I showed up 2 hours early to allow for any hiccups in the bus schedule, and was surprised when the doctor went ahead and saw me at 1015 instead of making me wait until 1200, my scheduled appointment. His 1000 was late, so she waited until after he finished with his 1030.

The Dr. turned out to be a very genial and spiritual soul who ran me through a brief profile routine, then chatted with me, and made notes. I made no attempt to be anything other than myself, and it did make quite an impression upon him!

When he asked if he could help me, I assumed he was referring to setting up appointments to treat my potential depression, and I answered to the affirmative. but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, and handed me a $20 bill and shook my hand saying that he saw me as a bright, articulate soul who faced adversity with a positive attitude, and who reaches out to others even when I am down.

I was flabbergasted! He shared a prayer, and wished me well, saying that I am fully capable of taking care of myself no matter the circumstances, and that I would benefit positively from Social Security Disability and Supplementary Security Income! He said he would file his report, and I would hear from SSA in less than 30 days! I thanked the man genuinely from my heart, and he smiled broadly and wished me well!

I was out by 1035, and had just missed the Westbound #5 Chagrin bus, and though it was hot and humid, I was traveling light, so rather than wait 45 minutes in the heat for the next bus, I strolled to the Van Aken Rapid stop, to get the 41F back to Southgate. I had been disappointed to see upon arriving earlier to catch the #5 Eastbound, that the construction at the intersection had included demolishing the old Interurban Station that dated from the 1890's, and was used by the Kinsman Electric, Cleveland Interurban RR, Shaker Heights Rapid Transit, Northern Ohio Traction and Light, and Chagrin Falls and Eastern RR, before becoming a National City Bank, and then a Starbucks!

I walked to the Wendy's where the old Manner's Drive-In Restaurant had been, and treated myself to a Sweet Tea, and 2 $1 sandwiches while waiting for a #41F on Center Road. I boarded the next bus about 20 minutes later, and since I was using a $5 All Day Pass, decided to hop on the #76 at Southgate and ride to downtown Bedford to check my mail and then visit James at Bedford Medical Center. It was hot, and the going was slow, but still no mail, and when I arrived at the hospital, it was 1225. James was still listed in bed #1, room 220 of the heart and vascular center (where I spent a very relaxing and pleasant week back in march for the same thing, acute edema), but the room was empty!

I checked at the nurse's station, and he had been released earlier that day! He was in good shape, and there were no worries. So I headed back down to the lobby and then out to the #76 stop on Blaine Avenue, and took a seat in the Hospital Police Golf Cart, as there are no benches at most bus stops. I was shocked to have a Southbound #76 blow right past me, even though I had arisen from my seat when the Northbound passed. I was standing in the apron next to the crosswalk where the bus stop is indicated.

Even waving my Shillelagh frantically (picture me @ 6+' and 230# with shoulder length gray hair, a full gray beard, wearing a Chocolate Stetson, and waving my Irish Blackthorn Walking Stick like a maniac! How does a driver miss that?)

Well, I called RTA to both complain and to find out when another was due (I had left my schedules with my  bags at the Get-Go). The lady answering the phone at RTA, registered my complaint, but it took a few minutes to track the driver and bus number as their real time computer tracking system had just crashed when I called. They did get the info, and made the complaint. And the next bus was
in 30 minutes. I asked about the RTA policy of stranded riders, and she said I was misinformed, RTA doesn't use provide-a-ride for missed buses. It is only for seniors and disabled persons by appointment. But my phone died while she was explaining. Oh well. I read for 20 minutes, then stood out in the heat with no seat available (the Hospital PD had taken the cart on outside patrol), and boarded the next #76 to STC. I then re-boarded the same bus which became the #40 and rode back to the Get-Go.

James was there at the outside patio, feeling fine and glad to be pain free. We discussed this with Bryce that afternoon, and Bryce asked if we were game to start our workouts Thursday morning about 0600. We both said yes!

When it rains, it pours! Though I still have a physical exam pending next Wednesday for SSA, it has has been a domino effect ever since I posted my Blog a week ago Monday and my friend Kerry and his wife Donna reached out to help and be supportive, and then SSA responded Wednesday the 25th, which is the first positive thing I have heard from SSA since initially filing for disability on 18 October 2013!

I saw Sheryl and her daughter Maggie on Monday night, they were in the area, as Maggie was due back at her dad's house in Hudson later that evening. So we stopped for pizza at the little family run pizza place at Dunham and Rockside, and we shared 2 large pizzas for $15. We then traveled to the post office where I got my first mail, the SSA packet with my appointments and the release forms for my exam results to be forwarded to Dr. Mahlies, my primary physician, which I signed and mailed on Tuesday. It was great to see both Sheryl and Mags, as since her hours were cut at work back to part time, she can't afford to drive up her too often even to see her daughter and 2 sons!

We tried to get a new Giant Eagle savings card for me at the store, so that I could give her and Matt one each so that they can use my fuel perks! I had $1.11 off per gallon, but lost 30 cents off of that after the start of the new month. We couldn't get the new card since customer service was closed, but my next trip through giant Eagle, I will get new cards and use the key fob version, so that they can use my earned points since I am no longer driving.

It has been a good 2 weeks, even though Charlotte still only calls to explain why I can't come over (either she is having a panic attack after a doctor's appointment and a trip on the bus, or her tub isn't draining or the toilet is stopped up! Last week it was because her power was out.), and I haven't heard from Matt who has been double shifting working his butt off to catch up on bills.

I miss the both of them, and not just because seeing them usually includes the opportunity for a nice meal, a bath/shower, and a place to spend the night actually sleeping, but also because I highly treasure human interaction, and they are really good friends I don't get to see enough of!

I do have many new friends/acquaintances in my new status being "Home Challenged", but I get plenty of interaction with them, sometimes too much with a couple in particular (is not encountering someone on their laptop with earbuds in, and their being so intent upon what they are doing [watching a movie/writing/listening to music] indicative of not wishing to be disturbed? Or at least can they recognize that a subsequent 6 hour conversation that repeats the same 4 or 5 topics over and over, is not always in order?)

Or is that just me? I usually give people space when they have headphones or earbuds in, or are watching movies on a computer/phone/pad, or listening to a music source. Common courtesy I always thought. As when someone has set up at the library or a wi/fi cafe by themselves, they wanted some solitude in the first place!

I will not name names, though I doubt the folks in question will ever read this, I wish to not hurt anyone's feelings by naming names. I guess this is why I am such a "crazy magnet" as both Mr. Scott and Angjelo have observed. Because most others would tell these people right off they don't wish to be disturbed or at least would not be unwilling to ignore them if they missed that point in the first place! I have a tendency to acknowledge everyone and actually pay attention when they speak.

But over the years, folks who are slightly (or seriously) out of sync with the social graces and communication, have attached themselves to me like a Remora to a host Shark, and not only looked for me repeatedly, but many have taken to actually stalking me and going so far as to monopolize my time and prevent others from having any contact with me! This has included both men and women, boys and girls of all ages! (I have learned in this age of cell phones not to share my number with everyone. Oh, don't worry, the stalkers still find out your address and number, and other personal info by just following you everywhere without being seen!)

Yet even knowing all of this, and even needing privacy every now and then, I still won't blow these people off like others can so readily do!

This goes back to my childhood, and got worse by Jr. high and high school! I have learned to be more firm and assertive about my privacy, and have been more selective in determining who my friends really are! I have intentionally not confirmed a past friend from Jr. High/High School/College, as a FB Friend, because I really don't want to put up with that same old BS and obnoxious attitude that used to drive me crazy. I have even avoided renewing a friendship in person with the other person who makes up the trio that we were in HS and college! (That is until a single blond managed to break up the 3 musketeers, by dating 2 of them and then pursuing me with no encouragement on my part!)

Even though my dad had many issues including NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) and really had no true friends, just people who freely took advantage of his good nature, he was right in that you need to value how important a true friend is, and not allow anything to destroy that!

But, several incidents stand out that while committed by close friends that I valued at the time, actually proved to show that there was a lack of sincerity on their part, and a lack of respect for me. That included hitting me square on the face with a heavy traffic cone and splitting upper and lower lips, and later when the swelling went down, finding a front incisor loose and requiring a root canal and porcelain crown! Though he paid for it, his attitude through the whole affair was what kept him out of my life afterwards. First, he only came over to my home and apologized because his mom made him as she was worried I would sue him/her; and stating that he was not sorry he hit me, only sorry that so much damage had been done. Then while I went through 8 visits to the dentist to be drilled and abused, he commented that it was taking too long, and costing too much, and that I must be stretching it out on purpose to make him pay more!

Right, like I really enjoyed sitting in that chair having my roots drilled and smelling burning enamel and gum! And when the temporary crown fell off leaving a large gap in my mouth, I was just making the most of a bad thing to hurt him!

I know he mellowed after his mom died, but he really still hasn't changed. Neither has the other person in question who has the tact of a bull in a China Shop when it comes to people's feelings, is rudely obnoxious in insisting on pointing out people's faults (at least in his own thinking), and his whole attitude in thinking and saying, that whatever you can do, he can and will do better than you just to prove he can! (Usually he can't!)

He joined the fencing club in HS because he said if I could do  it (I had been fencing since the 2nd Grade), any idiot could master it. I did enjoy beating him soundly every time we had a match, though he always told everyone else that he had won, or had only lost by one point (fact, he never scored a single touch on me in any match, and was hard pressed to touch me at all when we sparred using the honor system!).

He did the same with bicycles and stereo gear. I started cycling seriously before I met him in 9th grade when he transferred here from rural MI in 1973, and when the limitations of my 35# Schwinn Collegiate, though stripped of fenders and other gear and reequipped with drop bars, were abundantly apparent, I searched hi and lo for a decent light weight 10 speed to buy. finding that one of the local car dealers was cashing in on the Arab Oil Embargo and importing Honda Civics from Japan that got 35mpg, as compared to the average 10-15mpg that the American cars if the day managed. (My folks still drove VWs, a Beetle and a Squareback, with which I got my license.)

He also imported a line of French bicycles under the St. Ettienne name from the St. Ettienne factory of Gitane, a Famous French Bicycle Company. He had a $99 special, a stripped down carbon steel single butted frame that was lugged, and had aluminum wheels, cottered steel cranks, Huret Steel Derailleurs, aluminum drop bars, and Mafac centerpull brakes and hooded levers.

A deal I had made with my dad, was that if I improved my grades by the 3rd quarter of 10th grade, he would buy me the bike. I worked hard, but was unable to improve most of my grades, and knowing how much I liked to ride, he took me to select my bike at the dealership in Colinwood in April of '74. I selected a white frame with black tape and a hard plastic saddle. It had solid hubs with wing nuts instead of hollow axles and Q/R skewers, but they were Aluminum forged L/F Exeltoo Hubs with a 14-28 freewheel, and it had downtube gear levers. It weighed in at about 23# in my 25 1/2" frame size and had steel 27" rimes with 1 1/8" clincher Michelins. I was ecstatic!

I used it to do my paper route (this unnamed person also had a PD route next to mine on Ludlow, just to show me what ever I could do, he could do better), and once my grandfather (Bumpa) helped me adjust the saddle to the correct height, I began riding all over NE Ohio!

Well, he saw that I rode all of the time, and he would occasionally borrow one of his brother's bikes (they both had 1970's Schwinn Suburbans, the upright flat handle barred ten speeds that also weighed over 35#, but had Q/R hubs and stem shifters), to ride with me. Then he announced after I had explained why I had to get a new bike, and why lightweight frames, components, wheels, and drop bars were so much more efficient, he went out and bought the $159 version of the St. Ettienne, with Simplex Derailleurs, Exeltoo Q/R L/F hubs, and aluminum 27" rims.

He then proceeded to try and outdo my every modification! I started with buying a leather Brook's B-17 Racing saddle made in England (A very steep $30 in 1974). He bought the Brook's Pro model ($100).

I pestered Al at Al's Bike Shop on South Taylor on Cleveland Heights, PeeWee at his shop, the nice lady that ran Coventry Cycles in Coventry Village, the snooty staff at VeloSport in Shaker Heights, and even the nice manager at the South Taylor Schwinn Shop, looking for Campagnolo components individually to upgrade my bike. Well the fellow at Schwinn came across a Brevet 74 Campy Neuvo Record rear derailleur from a Schwinn Paramount, their handmade top of the line European Ten Speed with Reynolds DB Tubing and Silver Soldered lugs with all Campy equipment and a leather Brook's pro saddle and Silk Sew Up Tires, and told me about it on one of my stops to by to visit and drool over the Paramount in stock. And, he only charged my $6 for it ($45 new) because it was used!

Well, guess who ordered one for $50 mail order and was showing it off a few weeks later? Yup! And to make matters more complex, he was so impressed with the quality of the beautifully forged Italian part, that he insisted that I watch him while he shifted into each gear, and promptly ran into a parked car! He fell on the pavement and stood up a split second later, claiming he had been passed out for several minutes. I was concerned he may have received a concussion, but he was stressing over the fact that he had bent his front rim and broke several spokes!

He insisted that since I was a party to this happening (I was?) I was obligated to help him fix it! I agreed to help him, though I was still new at building and truing wheels myself. (I had laced up Mavic Tubular Aluminum rims on my Exeltoo Hubs with Normandy open hollow axles and Q/R Skewers that winter, and was riding on Vittorio Cotton Cased Sew Up tires.)

It turned out he also did not have the gonads to let his parents see what happened to his bike! So he brought his bike to my parent's basement where I had a quasi shop for working on my bike. I would suspend the frame from the overhead radiator pipes, and had a small selection of Craftsman Metric wrenches and sockets, as well as spoke wrenches, Allen wrenches and some other specialty bike tools and maintenance items. He bent his wheel in April or early May, but he didn't finish re-lacing a new rim on until July! And of course, he bought the more expensive Robergel (aluminum Swiss) spokes and a Very expensive Fiamme ferruled aluminum tubular rim.

Next, I bought a set of Weinmann Center Pull 750 brakes, and he bought Campy side pull Records; I ordered a Sugino Aluminum Cotterless Crankset with 175mm arms that was a Japanese copy of the Campy Super Record crank, he bought a Campy Nuevo Record; I installed a Campy Record Front changer and Campy gear levers, he did the the same.

And this went on, and on, and on!

Alas, earlier that same spring, I had ridden to the Hobby Center Toys at Severence Shopping Center to return a train item that was the wrong size, and had my  bike stolen from where it was chained with a 6' long 3/8" case hardened chain and Master #5 padlock!

Heartbroken that my "baby" had been stolen, I was planning on building a whole new bike from the frame up. But fortunately, the bike was recovered by the Cleveland Heights Police, however  the bike was being used by 2 small juveniles who somehow had managed to scratch up the frame badly grinding off the Shaker Heights Bicycle License from the down tube and my SSN engraved on the bottom bracket, and got bubble gum in all of the bearing races, headset, bottom bracket and both wheel hubs! That is what pressed the immediate replacement/rebuilding if the crank, wheel hubs, and the getting new bars for the headset.

I found some NOS Zeus Olympic pedals, an all aluminum Spanish road pedal that was similar but lighter than the Campy Record steel cage version, treated myself to Christophe extra long clips and leather toe straps, ordered a Campy headed Silca fitted Frame Pump in Blue, and a spare tire seat bag to hold 2 spare sew up tires, rim glue and some small tools!

I ordered Cinelli #66 bars 42cm wide (the #66 are deeper and wider than the standard #64), a 130cm Cinelli stem, and Tressostar Cotton Tape which I applied over thin butyl rubber sew up innertubes cut to fit and using lots and lots of talcum powder to stretch it over the bare aluminum bars.

After several weeks of planning, research, and prepping, I painted the frame with high quality spray paint in Black and Silver. I ran all new cable and cable housing, utilizing the Campy guide forging that clamped under the bottom bracket, and detailed the lugs with red enamel trim!

Unfortunately, I used black lacquer over gray enamel, and after I began to polish the finished paint when I did the red trim, the polishing compound made the paint flake off!

He procured almost all of the same items at least by brand, and still bragged his bike was better than mine, any day. Well, even he went ahead and painted his bike in a custom design, and made some other mods!

Though we rode together often, I found him to be a sloppy rider and a whiner. I read everything about riding I could, and subscribed to "Bicycling" magazine and so did he,  yet I had to teach him how to ankle and to set up and maintain his components!

That summer I took a bad spill on my bike while headed to Severance Center to go to the hobby shop, when my front tire got sucked into a section of erupting asphalt on Lee Road at Fairhill, which launched my bike into the tree lawn, and me into traffic with my left foot still in the toe clip!

The bike and I skidded (me on my left side, and the bike on it's right) a good 30' down the road (I was ahead of traffic at 35mph), and we both got a nasty case of road rash! My right pedal and right brake lever were scored badly by the rough road surface, and my skin was torn from left arm to left calf, and my t shirt, jean cutoffs and underwear shredded!

I walked the 5 miles home in great pain, only to be greeted by my dad who said he would fix me up! I asked him to call my mother the RN at work, but he insisted on treating me himself. He fetched his Hydrogen Peroxide, some 70% isopropyl alcohol, and some clean towels and bandages, and promptly burned up my bare skin while scrubbing the dirt and stone out of my abrasions and lacerations!

He did finally call my mother at work, and told her what happened. She left work early with an assortment of dressings and skin ointments from the clinic. She arrived to see my dad's handiwork, and promptly went off on him for doing more damage than good! Yes, I screamed holy hell while he cleansed the open wounds with Hydrogen Peroxide and raw rubbing alcohol! He saw nothing wrong with what he did!

Well, it took many weeks for my wounds to heal, and scar over (and scar they did, he really did a number on my elbow ribs and thigh/knee cleaning me up)! The bike only required some careful polishing with  drill and abrasive bits on the aluminum portions of the brake lever and pedal cage, and some retaping of the bars! (Thank goodness I had padded them with the butyl tube, as it only require a few flicks of sandpaper to polish out the rough spots on the bars, and $3 for a new roll of heavy cotton Tressostar tape.

I never sought out my dad for first aid after that!

In 1976, the person in question was planning on joining some friends in a cycling trip across Canada, culminating in watching the Olympic Cycling events in Montreal! He went over his bike and added panniers, a Blackburn rack front and rear, and ordered Kevlar Sew Up tires that were supposed to be invulnerable!

He left for the trip in late June, and his new tires arrived the same day after he left!

Well, he left his friends in Montreal, and rode to MI where he visited relatives, before returning home to Shaker Heights. He shared some good stories, but he and I rarely rode together after that. He took his bike to Cincinnati with him after he transferred from CSU to UC, but he rarely rode after that.

For a joke on his birthday (same as mine), my GF at the time who he and his brother had set me up with on a blind date as a joke (joke was on them, we hit it off and dated for 10 months!), bought him a child's tricycle, because he was always so childish in how he acted around people!

He liked the trike, and it was popular in his dorm, because people would get drunk and ask to ride it in the halls! But some badass black dudes didn't like how others had fun with the trike, and took it. He never saw it again!

We went through some of the same things with Stereo gear, but he always had a bigger budget (he wasn't supporting a Model Railroad addiction like I was) and always bought high end components to impress. That was also when he built a mountain dulcimer from a kit with his grandfather's help. He later built several before attending the folk music concerts and selling himself as a dulcimer player. He had played violin in the school orchestra, and like most of our classmates, played folk guitar.

I wound up recording his demo tape for sale at the folk festivals and shows, and even acting as producer at the commercial studio where we compiled and edited all of the raw 1/4" tape I recorded of him at his church sanctuary and chapel, and some other venues. Again, fate reared it's ugly head, and all of his original master tapes and the working reels we were remixing, were destroyed in the fire that also destroyed the studio and the entire building that it occupied! Except for a single stereo cassette tape I had dubbed for the 2 girls that sang back up harmony for him. He did not want me to give them one, he wanted them to BUY completed tapes when they were done! Yes, the 2 young ladies whose angelic voices were featured on 2 tracks, who were not being paid for their talent and had agreed to do it because they were flattered by me into working for free, were expected to BUY samples of the finished product with their own voices on them!

Yes, the same guy who while I was in traction with a broken neck and back at University Hospital, wanted me to sign a contract to pay him $350 for the motorcycle I was selling for him that I had broken my neck on! When I advised him that I may not survive surgery or if I did, I might be paralyzed permanently and unable to work, he said I could pay for it by working it off painting and plastering at one of his properties he was planning on renting out! And this was the night before my surgery!

And to add insult to injury, I was temporarily paralyzed and could not have an erection, he had printed out 2 "Playboy Magazine" centerfolds on his computer at work for me to enjoy, knowing full well that I was not able to maintain an erection and had little or no feeling in my legs and groin!

30 years after the fact when trying to friend me on Facebook, he still doesn't understand why I was upset in the first place! He thinks it is about the money!

Oh well, enough about all of this. It is all water under the bridge, and I am over it.

Hereendeth the rant.