Tuesday, November 22, 2022

Cold hands? No more!

 Minus 4 Celsius (24.8 F.) this morning.

Yesterday I happened to be at Winners with Susan. I wandered over to a wall of gloves and poked around until I found a pair of ski mitts. For $20 it was worth a shot.

This morning I did a 8.55 km frosty outdoor loop.


I assumed that at one point or another I was going to need the little rechargeable hand-warmer in my pocket.


Not so! What a pleasant surprise.

To be honest I don't know why the mitts surprised me. There was a time when I used to ski. Mostly my hands were fine in mitts, I think.

Oh well.

On a side note, the Brompton stock bell that comes with every Brompton was not happy in the cold. I also had a little difficulty with my super bell (mitt clumsiness, it seems). On the other hand, I had no trouble using my WWII cricket clicker. Worked like a charm.

WWII cricket clicker????

Yes indeed. Picked it up a few weeks ago at the Canadian Juno Beach D-Day landing museum. 3 euros. Worth every centime! If you're interested, go to a museum boutique where you'll pay 3 euros, not Amazon, or Etsy,  where they'll charge $25.

I'll be back.

I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed posting to the blog.

Tuesday, November 15, 2022

Time to hibernate


This morning it was -4C (24.8F).

Nevertheless, though snow was in the forecast, it seemed willing to hold off till noon, so I followed my 'default' cycle route that amounts to 6.64 kms.:

I have adopted a layering approach to the weather that, in almost all respects, works really well for me.

It is based on the following items:

  • fingerless cycling gloves
  • waterproof gloves
  • a light versatile neck warmer I picked up in Florence years ago
  • a headband runner's ear warmer
  • a light down jacket
  • an ultralight windbreaker
  • a high-end waterproof jacket.
  • waterproof running shoes
I don't yet have waterproof pants, but they are on my radar.

All of these items are extremely packable, and come with me on all my travels. They will take me from a chilly or wet summer day, to a very wet rainy late September stroll in Paris from the Moulin Rouge to Galeries Lafayette, and then on to our hotel in the 5th, comfortably warm, bone dry, and umbrella-free; and all the way to this morning's very chilly ride, all in almost perfect comfort... except for my hands.

By the time I ended my ride this morning, two pairs of gloves (winter leather gloves plus glove liners), left me with uncomfortably cold hands - but always a warm heart.

Besides, snow is here. Witness our balcony bistro above.

What this all means, is that it's time to shift gears and move the morning cycle to the P2 Loop. Like a bear entering hibernation, if the bear rode a bike in its cave. Maybe circus bears?

In preparation for the shift, I took the Mini down to P2 and drove the Loop ten times: 1.6 kms. Last fall I used a counting application on my phone to count the number of loops in my usual ~34 minute morning riding routine: 60 P2 Loops. I'm far from a math wizard, but that seems to yield a 9.6 km morning ride. Not too shabby.

My average outdoor ride is 8.6 kms and lasts a little longer, to as much at 50 minutes for a ten or eleven kilometer jaunt. Outdoor rides have intersections with traffic lights, uphill grades, headwinds, pedestrians, dogs, cats, squirrels, coyotes, geese and photo ops. The P2 Loop has few things getting in the way of my ride. On the P2 Loop I'm more like a piston making its way around an engine block. So it makes sense that I cover more ground in less time on the P2 Loop, than on my usual rides above ground. Besides, all this data is the product of fancy computer applications, satellite links, and a spreadsheet. So it must be true. (20221116 Ed.: it's now tomorrow, and I did the P2 Loop this morning, with a 34 minute timer, and an application to count the loops to keep me honest, and the result was exactly 60 loops in 34 minutes, to the second. That means that my speed in the garage is a relatively constant 17 km/h. Also, my packable down jacket was all I needed for comfort. I had JazzFM91 streaming very softly in my AirPods. Overall a very zen-like way to cycle through the winter.)

And there you have it.

I have done my best to make a very boring shift underground as captivating as possible.

Speaking of cycling underground, did I mention that last month Susan fractured her collar bone crashing a bicycle into a stone wall, while on a guided tour of ten kilometers of pitch-black wine caves in the Loire valley? She's been convalescing nicely since the accident on October 2. This week she is more often sling-less, and physio is paying dividends. What a nightmare. 

_________________________________

Update: today, Friday, November 18, with a seasonal temperature of -3C (26F), I ventured outdoors for another ride. Riding outdoors has that much more appeal than the P2 Loop. This time I managed to wear my normal leather gloves over my Showers Pass waterproof gloves. It was a tight fit. By the time I got to my furthest point of that 8.92 kilometer ride, my hands were cold, but only my thumbs were cold to the point of discomfort. My conclusion is that heated gloves might be required. Everything else was nice and warm (except my legs, but who cares about cold legs?)

Here is the route  - home south to the residential streets just north of the 401, east to Bayview Avenue, then back west to Yonge and the 401, then home:




Monday, November 14, 2022

Building habits

Here I sit.

At the keyboard.

It's a weekday.

Another week.

If I weren't living in a calculated, intentional way, that might describe the basic rhythm of my life.

Thankfully, it doesn't.

I have had a little exercise routine that kicks off my mornings. 

I can't quite remember when the habit set in. It was definitely after our move to Toronto in 2016. There was an exercise hiatus from January to June in 2018 when I was qualifying for my license with the Law Society of Ontario. Six months of 10 to 12 hour days. Crazy. But very much worthwhile.

That period of intense work sitting at the keyboard resulted in a pain in the neck. A chiropractor  helped me to sort that out. Other body aches led me to MECH Physiotherapy. That resulted in 'homework'.

Self-imposed torture really, combined with my own exercise routine that I built from a variety of sources, including Mount Sinai's back care exercises, and inspiration and exercises plucked from Miranda Esmonde-White's Aging Backwards.

I mustn't leave the impression that I enjoy exercising. I don't. I need a prod. Not quite a cattle prod. More like a stiff index finger poke to the chest.

And that is where the most life-changing and life-affirming book came into play.

In October 2020, not that long ago.

That book is by James Clear. 

Sorry, but I have to digress just a bit.

I have this fantasy where I return to university to work on a graduate degree in sociology or anthropology, or psychology, to explore how our names affect our life choices. Like Bernie Madoff. I mean, he made off with millions! I have come across numerous other examples, where names seem to have set people's courses, often for the best, but like Bernie, in other directions as well. What about T****? I wonder. I decided quite a while back not to spell his name out. Colbert taught me that.

James Clear may well be an example. The introduction to his book, entitled simply My Story, is epic. Atomic Habits is the book. If I had to describe it in one word, that word would be "clear".

I digress no more.

Adopting good habits, like a daily exercise routine, or breaking bad habits, can be daunting.

I started smoking in my teens. I quit smoking successfully three times. The last time was on December 31st, 1983. The only New Years' resolution that ever stuck. Over all, I must have tried to quit smoking hundreds of times. Many attempts lasted mere hours.

James' theory is that failure is far more likely if you try to take big steps. That is the way most most of us attempt to tackle habits. And that's why people aren't more successful.

Thankfully, atomic habits have nothing in particular to do with nuclear particle physics.

Rather, James' theory is that by taking tiny steps in the right direction, it is much easier to build good habits, or break bad habits, and do so with a high rate of success. There's more to his approach than just baby steps. He provides excellent advice on building habit forming structures designed to promote success.

I don't want to get into minute detail. There is no way I could do the book justice. 

My advice is really simple. Get your hands on Atomic Habits and read it cover to cover. The only way it won't help you is if you are a monk, a saint, or the Dalai Lama.   

If exercising for, on average, eighteen minutes each weekday morning is something I don't like, riding is something I love to do.

I love to ride in the morning, preferably at or near dawn. Even better when fog casts a veil on the landscape. The trick I learned from Atomic Habits is that I will only allow myself to ride once I have done my exercises. James Clear taught me that.

Oh, the things I see on those rides. 

People...

... animals...










That's a coyote ambling along, minding its own business.

The landscape photos I take are always the landscapes that pretty much stop me in my tracks. The view compels the photo.








 It's difficult to understand when you look at those photos that I live on one of the busiest urban streets in Canada. Minutes north of what we call the "401". Twelve and more lanes of heavy, heavy, urban traffic. Our street, running north from the 401 to where we live, is lined by sky scrapers, including our condo complex. 

And yet on my daily Brompton rides that average just under nine kilometres within a radius of half that, there are those amazing vistas.

I am blessed.

Wednesday, September 7, 2022

Another intersection

 I am at yet another point in my life on two wheels where important changes are underway.

I feel Susan and I have emerged from the pandemic, along with our family, a family that has grown exponentially since my retirement in 2015. From three kids, to six members of the family with our new son and daughters, to two grandchildren and now four grandchildren. Our immediate family has expanded to ten wonderful, cherished and well-loved members. What a joy, what an amazing joy.

But that is not the change I feel the need to discuss here.

This blog started in 2010 when I began commuting on a Vespa. I felt a need to pay forward all the invaluable advice and assistance I received from other moto-bloggers.

Those decisions, to commute on a Vespa, and to share my adventure on this blog, were life changing decisions. I could never have guessed the joy, friendships, discoveries and adventures that came my way as a direct result.

The move to Toronto and the recent pandemic have, once more, fundamentally changed things for me.

I work from home, so I don't commute. The pandemic killed the Toronto Moto-Scooter Club.

I have no reason to ride my Vespa. It sits mostly idle.

Riding a motorbike is risky. The more you ride, the more you learn, the better your skills, the greater your confidence, the more you ride.

Unfortunately the reverse equation is also true. The less I ride, the greater the perceived risk, the less I am inclined to ride.

There's that, and then there's the Brompton factor.

I have a long history of getting around on two wheels, it's a story I have shared here before, and there is no need to repeat it here.

I just love to ride, whether it's on a bicycle or a motorbike.

What I have most recently discovered, is that getting around on a bicycle is more satisfying for me in many ways than getting around on a Vespa.

Sure it's slower, but it was never about speed. The range is nowhere near comparable, but range is not by any means a simple consideration. The Vespa is unquestionably superior when the trip on two wheels is a long one, such as Toronto to Montreal and back.

The Brompton wins hands down however when leisurely exploring is the objective. The reason the Brompton wins is that anywhere you can walk, you can ride a Brompton. That's not so with a Vespa. Vespas are much better at exploring than cars, but are nowhere near as versatile and adaptable as Bromptons.

There is one particular aspect of the Brompton that is truly a game changer. It is unmatched by any other means of transportation I have ever used.

That's because the Brompton is a parasite.

Deeply ingrained parasitic qualities that serve as Bromptons' fundamental DNA are what distinguish Bromptons from all other forms of transportation.

Name your destination, then pick your vehicle: car, Vespa, subway, train, bus, airplane, or boat. With a few flicks of fingers and wrists the Brompton shrinks to suitcase dimensions. That's how my Brompton has gone from my home in Toronto, to be my exploration vehicle in downtown Toronto, and in Montreal, Ogunquit, and Vancouver. And that's just a start.

Have I ridden my Vespa in Montreal and Ogunquit? Yes.

But... and it's a huge BUT... my Vespa got me there on its own. My Brompton in each of those long range explorations piggybacked on other vehicles: In our car to Montreal and Maine, and on our Air Canada flight to Vancouver. When I rode a scooter in Toronto, or in Victoria, or a Vespa in Florida, or an MP3 in Tuscany,  it's because the scooter was rented or the Vespa was borrowed. That's great, but it's not the same as having your very own two-wheeler whisking you around.

In each case the Brompton is always by my side, whether in our car, on the subway, in a restaurant... yes, in a restaurant for one of my firm's team meeting events.

As you can see, what the Brompton really needs in order to be the perfect vehicle is a range extender.

And that is the segue-way to the introduction of my new toy.

What many of you do not know is that I have always been attracted to convertible sports cars. First when I was four or five years old to the MG TD, then later on to the 1960 Corvette that starred on Route 66, and on to the Triumph TR6 when I was a penniless student in college. When I was in Florida sitting in a car outside a shop where Susan was picking up treats for kids, I saw my first Miata. And that was it. In June of 1993 I bought a very special 1990 Miata. That car was mine for seventeen or eighteen years. Nothing quite compares to the joy of driving a sporty manual-shift convertible with the top down.

I sold my Miata to my friend Marc because it just couldn't compete with my Vespa in terms of the joy of getting around. It was just sitting idle. That's not good for a machine.

From time to time I regretted that decision, but it was the right one at the time. 

For the past year or so the convertible itch has been begging to be scratched. I recently came into some mad money and that's what led me to the six-speed manual shift 2012 Mini Cooper S Cabriolet that is now sitting in our second parking sport.

And now the Vespa is sitting idle. The Brompton is in part to blame, aided and abetted by the Mini Cooper now serving as a delightful range extender for the Brompton. 

Long, long, long story short, the Vespa will be sold.

Yes it's sad. Truly it is.

But life goes on.

What about this blog?

It no longer serves its initial purpose, that's for sure.

I may return to it, after this long absence, more as a personal journal, as a means of sharing the interesting things Susan and I do. Like Paris this fall (no, the Bromptons are sitting that one out).

I have taken to bicycle rides each weekday morning. They happen at about 7:00 a.m. and run between six and twelve kilometres in our neighbourhood. When I come across a scene that I find remarkable, I stop and snap a photo with my phone. 

I should share that with you.

As for YouTube videos, much as I enjoyed making them, the effort far outweighs the benefit. The advertising on YouTube is so intrusive and pervasive that I have no interest in contributing painstaking efforts to generate advertising revenue for Google.

Bye for now.

Keep an eye on this space, there may just be some stuff worth seeing.

Tuesday, June 1, 2021

You need a Brompton rack... and the reasons may surprise you!


 A new episode of the vlog has finally landed.

In the last episode I warned subscribers that I was a S-L-O-W editor. That was no joke.

Is it because I am a perfectionist? 

Heavens no!

If I was a perfectionist, I wouldn't have uploaded ANY of the previous 49 episodes. Seriously.

Why do I bother? 

Am I looking for a lucrative audience? Not in the least. I am a realist and that is never going to happen, of that I am reasonably sure.

I do it because it's challenging and I learn something new every time I produce a video. One day I'll go back and view them in the order of publication and see if spot the gradual grind of improvement.

This episode is another technical post that explores the function of a rear rack on the Brompton folding bicycle. It serves the obvious purpose of allowing you to carry things that otherwise would be a challenge. Thought most of that aspect of the Brompton is addressed by the ingenious carrier-block that allows you to click luggage onto the front of the bike in a very accessible and secure way.

The most useful feature of the rack, I have learned, is the four little wheels that let you wheel your folded Brompton when it's folded, typically indoors. That's what allows the Brompton to go anywhere with you, indoors and out.

In my case there is another useful aspect of the rear rack that I may have hinted at, and that will not come as a surprise to my readers. Watch the video for the reveal.

Here are the links that I promised in this episode:

Curbside Cycle, Toronto Links to Videos mentioned in this episode: Brompton gear hub setup: Brilliant Bikes and Chris by Bike Brompton rack installation: Brompton Traveller Tensioner installation: Brilliant Bikes Link to Walkstool Link to ROK straps The music for this episode of Life on two wheels is Panama Hat by Audionautix, Bluesy Vibe by Doug Maxwell, Ratatouille's Kitchen by Carmen María Edu Espinal, and Minor Blues for Booker by E's Jammy Jams, all made available courtesy of the YouTube Audio Library. Panama Hat No Voice by Audionautix is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license.

Sunday, April 11, 2021

Brompton phone mounts


I'll keep this mercifully brief (especially given that it's my longest video ever).

If the Brompton were a motorbike, this would be a farkle post. I'm not sure what the term is in the cycle world since I'm new there. I suspect that it's just an accessory. In time I'll learn the patois, most likely.

As I mention in the video, our smartphones are our R2D2's and there is therefore a compelling need (speaking for myself, of course) to have them anchored to Bromptons in the same way that they're anchored to our hands, arms, pockets, cars, Vespas, furniture...

I asked Siri "are you related to R2D2?", and she feigned ignorance. We all know the truth though.

This episode is about installing the RAM X-mount on our Bromptons. There are 239 reasons I couldn't find any videos about RAM mounts on bicycles, and 59-60 reasons why there is no shortage of videos on Quadlock and Trigo mounts. Watch the video. I think it's a little funny.
  
I compare the RAM X-mount to the other more popular mounts by referencing Victor's Quadlock and Trigo product review video. Victor is a brilliant product reviewer. I'm only fair to middling. My RAM X-mount review leans heavily on Victor's methodology and scoring metrics.


For the very few among you who are now craving a RAM X-mount they are available at GPSCity.com and GPSCity.ca.

The music for this episode (that I really like) is Parisian Street by Martin Carlberg, and Enough to Get By by Daniel Gunnarsson, both available on Epidemic Sound

Friday, March 12, 2021

Bromptons in the house!!!

It seemed like it would be forever until we receive our Bromptons, but they are finally here.

I can't begin to say how great it is to have these iconic bikes sharing our home.

Today's video explains how a pair of House Red Bromptons wormed their way into our home.

It all began... well, no. That would spoil the video.

We haven't really begun to enjoy them. Well, that's not quite true.

Yesterday I took mine out on its first little trip in the real world, a modest jaunt down the street to Starbucks at Mel Lastman Square to share a coffee with my friend Glenn. I realized that I hadn't seen a friend since last fall when I dropped in on Ed. The full sense of the deprivation sinks in when you meet that first friend in many, many months...

Not quite unexpectedly, my Brompton became an instant star of the encounter. Glenn needed to see it unfold, and fold, no surprise there. But the only passer-by stopped to marvel and ask twenty questions about my mechanical jewel. I guess that's something I'll have to get used to. Imagine when someone spots my Brompton riding pillion on my Vespa, because that day is near.

If you think that yesterday was my first time in my Brompton's saddle, think again, and watch the video, it may just amuse you.

If you are reading this and you are intrigued, and a little unsatisfied and frustrated that I am not really providing nearly enough detail, having perhaps piqued your curiosity... watch the video and be prepared to take notes. Actually, put the pencil down, the details are in the show notes, or... well, that's not fair because the video says that there are show notes here, as well. 

So here goes:

We bought our beautiful Bromptons at Curbside Cycle at 412 Bloor Street West in Toronto. They had to be special-ordered from the factory in London, because there is no such thing as Brompton inventory. Just as well, because there are many, many different configurations. You can occasionally find one for sale, second hand, but be prepared to pay double the retail price, no kidding!

The life-changing eleven best YouTube channels for everything you might want to know about Bromptons but that you didn't learn just by watching my video, are, in no particular order [drum roll]...

  1. Brian's i bike unfolded
  2. Gianni's Brompton traveler
  3. Christine's Chris by bike
  4. Victor's Everyday cycling
  5. Hannah's Brilliant bikes
  6. Pam & Gilbert's 2bikes4adventure
  7. Peter's Petrelli on wheels
  8. Susanna's Susanna Thorton
  9. Heather and Pier's Bromptoning and their blog Bromptoning.com
  10. Michelle's One car less (was called Ride on cycling)
  11. and the Brompton commuter channel Cycle every day

Be prepared to be amazed, and maybe even tempted!. If you want it all in a brilliant nutshell, then click here to watch Victor's brilliant summary "What makes it so special".

The special music for this episode is Jazz in Paris by Media Right Productions, and my favourite outtro track, Minor Blues for Booker by E's Jammy Jams, both courtesy of the YouTube audio library.

Be prepared, there will be more Brompton content, and Vespa content, and even Vespa-meets-Brompton and Brompton-meets-Vespa content. That is not a joke. You'll see.

Friday, February 19, 2021

Guess what?

Yesterday evening  I got an email I have been waiting for since September of last year.

Hey David,

Your bikes have arrived YAY!

The mechanic will call when the bikes are ready for collection.

Timm

I can't begin to express how exciting this is! 

I just had to post to mark the occasion.
 

Sunday, February 7, 2021

What's with branding and logos?

 My friend Steve Williams of Scooter in the sticks fame asked questions, and he deserves answers.

"Where will the new logo appear? A new logo for the blog? A new blog? On a T-shirt?"

Some answers are simple and straightforward:

Definitely not a new blog. If this blog's confines become too much, the blog will evolve, there won't be a new blog; but... 

... the YouTube channel will adapt to featuring bicycle content and as I began to prepare for that, I felt that the Brompton bits will need their own context, hence the logo. It still needs words. This morning in the shower "the fold" came to mind. I think that works for me.

On a T-shirt? I've never done that. Bill Leuthold of Rocket and me gave me a T-shrt with his blog branding on it. I generally avoid all branding on clothing if possible. To every rule there are bound to be exceptions. My two armoured moto jackets are those exceptions. I have badges sewn on those jackets for ModernVespa.com, the world's best Vespa forum, for the Vespa Club of Canada, to commemorate my Vespa jaunt in Tuscany, to mark the first 10,000 miles commuting on my Vespa, and yes... the logo for Life on Two Wheels is sewn on there too.

I have debated getting stickers made for the new Brompton adventures logo and sticking them on my bike and on the Vespa. The jury's still out on that one.

Mostly the new logo will serve on the vlog to brand videos that are Brompton specific.

Why bother?

I suppose that's really where I should focus this post.

I have always been interested in branding.

Branding was something that was only an option for the largest fanciest companies, and logos were the sine qua non of every branding exercise. Growing up with 1960's TV culture in the suburbs, logos were prominent everywhere, for grocery and drugstore chains, gas stations, TV and radio stations, and other large national retailers.

When, many years later, building my own web presence became possible, branding became something I could do too.

And so it began. I could brand myself, brand my ideas, brand the vehicles of my modes of expression, both tangible and intangible.

My first logo was for my personal web site. I wrote the code for that site from scratch. Computer technology went from the beast I thought would doom my career, to a beast I managed to tame and that helped to advance my career. I personally wrote all the code for my firm's web site with the result that my firm was one of the first law firms in Canada with a web presence.

My early-adopter computer literacy made it a no-brainer for me to co-opt @, one of the dominant iconic internet symbols as a basis for my personal logo.

My personal web site dates from 1997. Until then I used my law firm's web site to publish my ideas. In 1997 I left the firm to take on new challenges. I couldn't give up having a web site. My dear friend Andrew got in touch at about the same time to suggest that I snap up my name in the .org domain. and that is how masse.org was born. The logo came along just a little later.

My next foray into branding came along much later, in 2015, when I redesigned this blog. That was when the Life on Two Wheels logo was born.


That was back when my life was caught up in a slow motion explosion. I am glad I documented that. It was among the most amazing and enriching experiences of my life.

An opportunity came along in the wake of all that change to teach records management in the context of corporate governance. Once more branding exercises more or less imposed themselves: one for the cover of the book I wrote...


... and one for the related governance consulting business...


So perhaps now the inevitability of the new logo for Brompton adventures becomes more apparent.

None of the foregoing branding exercises generate anything resembling income. In that respect these are are not sources of tangible value. In fact, after mulling it over, even if Brompton videos generate a lot of traffic, I'm pretty sure that I don't want to monetize the YouTube channel. I find YouTube advertising increasingly annoying and intrusive. It's as if the algorithm is being used to make the experience of watching YouTube videos you like so painful that you'll opt for the paid subscription to get rid of the advertising.

There you have it Steve.

My love of branding is just a hobby. Something I do just for fun, as I enjoy masquerading as a bunch of logo-worthy enterprises.

10-year-old me would be so impressed.

Although in truth, my logos would fail to tear his attention away from flat screen TVs, iPhones, iPads, AirPods, GPS, proximity sensors in the car, all the remote controlled lights and thermostats... 

Friday, January 29, 2021

The story of life on two wheels

 

One more than one occasion I have told the story here about the two-wheeled path my life has often taken. I won't cover the same ground again today. Those stories are easy enough to find on the chronology page above. I re-read them just now. They brought back fond memories, and while I read, it was like traveling in time. I could see the scenes unfolding in my mind, experiencing the same emotions I felt all those years ago. That is the wonder of keeping a journal, and the amazing thing about keeping one online, like this.

I don't recall explaining how Life on Two Wheels became the new name for this journal. I looked over the posts I wrote when the new look was unveiled, but I didn't find that topic covered.

 Life on Two Wheels owes its name in no small way to my mom.

My mother was someone who was always ready for whatever the day's mission was a good half-hour to forty-five minutes earlier than the most punctual person would have dared.

It was annoying. 

Picture Queen Elizabeth, standing ramrod straight, in a signature bland sky blue cloth coat, her purse hanging on her arm bent at the elbow, a matching bland hat topping off the look, with a slight  but unmistakable "we are not amused" scowl.

That was my mother standing in the hallway, visibly annoyed that she was the only one in the household poised for departure. When, moments later, my mother would begin hectoring us to leave without further delay, she would often plead "Please, I want to get going, I really don't want to be heading there on two wheels!"

"... on two wheels..."

Whenever that happened, I pictured a car careening around a corner on two wheels.

Perversely, I developed a certain appreciation for things going off on two wheels. In my way of seeing things, it evoked a dashing adventure rather than the impending disaster my mother always feared.

And that's a part of how this journal got its new name.  The other part is well... two wheels.

Today is, by my reckoning, 31 days to Bromptons. By that I mean that our Brompton bikes are supposed to be in the production line, in London, within easy cycling range of Buckingham palace, on week 7, from the 15th to the 21st of February. Once built, they arrive here within two weeks. Hence the 31 days. Yes, I know, that's foolishly optimistic, what with Covid mucking up the works.

If it sounds like I'm counting down the days, I certainly am not. I have an Excel function doing that for me.

What to do as the dawn of a new two-wheeled adventure remains just over the horizon?

Work on a logo of course.

A new adventure like this deserves its own branding.

I wouldn't dream of misusing or abusing the manufacturer's logos, that just wouldn't do. 

So I came up with my own that is mine and mine alone, to do with as I please.

 
I also ordered two new bike helmets, a white one for Susan (her choice) and a black one for me.

Hmmmm... the temptation to order stickers...

Tuesday, January 12, 2021

No caller ID... a tiny act of kindness

This afternoon I received an anonymous call.

Anonymous in the sense that my phone said "No caller ID".

For some reason I resisted the temptation to dodge the call, which is my first instinct, and the thing I usually do.

I answered in my usual guarded tentative way.

"... hello?

The voice on the phone didn't sound one bit like a telemarketer. If anything, the voice seemed polite, earnest, and measured, and, if anything, sounded a little like I would expect a call from the North Pole might sound.

But what the mystery caller was saying I was having a difficult time coming to terms with.

"I sent you my business card?"

What the... ?

I denied sending anyone my business card. It was weird. Why would I do that?

He was doing his best to explain, to ease my obvious concern. I mean, how else did he get my number, Mr. No Caller ID?

The call was going sideways quickly, until he said that his daughter was the one who had solicited my business card...

My suspicious, wary, slow-motion brain finally made the connection, just in the knick of time. The dark murky veil that was about to eclipse the call suddenly fell away as a warm ray of sunshine finally appeared. 

Back in late November, I received a message from a lawyers' email list I subscribe to. It's what I would call a serious message board and the members tend to be prominent highfalutin legal eagles. I tend to be a lurker, not a mover and a shaker.

99.09% of the emails, as you might expect, stick to the legal topic at hand.

Then there's that 0.01% that stray from the path.

In this case, the lawyer, apologizing for the interruption, inquired ever so politely, if anyone on the list would mind sparing a business card.

Good morning, 

My dad collects business cards (hey, everyone needs a hobby!).  He is 74 years old and lives in an assisted living seniors’ residence here in Winnipeg.  Due to COVID restrictions, I have not been able to visit him for several weeks.  I’m not sure what Christmas will bring.  But I know that he would LOVE to get more business cards for his collection.  So, if you (a) have a business card; (b) have access to same; and (c) can spare one business card, an envelope and a stamp, please respond to this e-mail and I will send you my dad’s mailing address.

Thanks for your help with my little Christmas project.  Apologies for trespassing on the list with this personal request.

How could I resist? I lost no time rustling up an envelope and gathering some cards, including one of the precious few of my late Dad's pre-retirement circa 1993 business cards (I knew my Dad would be pleased).

 Hi...

It's on its way:

Denis Masse - Kodak, VP Ottawa (retired)

David Masse - Caravel Law, lawyer

David Masse - Governance View, consultant

David Masse - Governance Professionals of Canada, Chairman (former)

David Masse - Life on two wheels, explorer

Warm regards and best wishes to you and your Dad for Christmas!

 Roy was calling to thank me for the cards.

I have to say, I think that my little November gesture brought me as much joy on this cold dreary grey January afternoon, as it may have brought for Roy.

We had a great chat. I asked Roy who the most important person was in his collection. He paused to consider, as he cast his mind's eye over the more than 17,000 cards in his possession. "Pierre Trudeau" he said. I had the honour to meet our former Prime Minister in 1997, and if I had his business card it would be the top of my collection too.

I am sharing this little story because we are all in serious need of small acts of kindness.

Do what you can.

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Art therapy for the 2020 blues


Finally, episode 47 of my video journal is one for the history books. The last upload for 2020. It's 9:37, the clock is ticking fast now.

This process of creating video content is truly challenging.

I have an idea that I want to share, I have a vague impression in my mind, I know enough about the tools I have at my disposal to figure out how to combine the pieces into a whole that approximates my vision for the piece, and I have the time to devote to the project.

I really enjoy the work, and sometimes I feel that I have come fairly close to producing something that I like, at least in some respects.

The interesting thing is that every episode is built with content layer upon layer, upon layer, all created to some extent by me, or at least content that I select for inclusion. Sometimes, as here, my contribution is small compared to the work of others that I have sampled and mixed into the ultimate end product. Yet the soundtrack, the images, and the video clips are included, sequenced, and presented in a way that is unique. 

The only thing that is all mine, for which I am solely responsible, beyond the editing, is the narrative that seeks to bind the overall experience.

In this case, the biggest challenge was creating a narrative that conveyed the message I was striving to share. As the layers accumulate, each editing step adds an element of structure that, as the work progresses, creates a larger and larger shape that becomes less and less malleable.

The fear that wells up, is that there may not be a path through the content for a coherent narrative that conveys my intended message.

The thing that makes the challenge really exquisite is that while the vision for the ultimate message is constant, the narrative remains vague.

There are drafts of bits and pieces, outlines, snippets, that I create as the work progresses, that guide the editing, but, no final narrative that I know will work.

An easier path would be to write the narrative as I would with a paper, or an essay.

The reason I don't do that, is that reading a prepared script destroys the most important aspect of the narrative. When I have tried that, it ends up sounding stilted, like a middling high schooler reading a composition in the classroom.

The approach I used for this episode is to record the narrative once the editing is almost done.

I try to imagine that the camera I am speaking to is you, the viewer, and that we are having a conversation. 

While doing that, I need to make eye contact with you, to look you in the eye, not with so much intensity as to be unsettling, but with enough engagement with you that you will stay with me until my message is complete.

While striving to do that magic trick, I need to avoid hemming and hah-ing, and repetitive annoying speech mannerisms that is a large part of how we humans, who aren't network news anchors, tend to communicate with each other.

Finally, exspecially with the topic of this episode, how do I not come off as someone whose only incentive is to show off an art collectiion in a self-aggrandizing, pompous way.

The cumulative effect of doing this kind of creative work is that the fear of failure grows within me with each step I take. Every time I return to editing, I come to the keyboard with a feeling that I have missed the mark, that I will hate the thing that I thought was more or less allright when I last stepped away. 

Fortunately, so far, it's never quite as bad as I fear.

Then the tweaking continues, and the clips that I cut litter the virtual cutting room floor, and pile up as the episode progresses and approaches its final shape.

I hope I have achieved something close to what I was seeking.

Happy new year to all of you. Soon time to pop the cork on the bubbly!

The music for this episode of Life on two wheels is Hovering Thoughts by Spence, Sarabande by Joel Cummins, Night Snow and Hopeful Freedom by Asher Fulero, all made available courtesy of the YouTube Audio Library.

It's 9:49. I made it.


Monday, December 28, 2020

Taking stock as a new year looms

 I did something today I rarely do. 

Looking to copy a New York Times recipe for fried chicken and looking for a medium on my iPad paste the recipe into, I opened Pages, the Apple word processor. 

It was like opening a chest in the attic. Bits and pieces of draft correspondence, work-related memos from a time that has lost most of its relevance. Like a trove of old snapshots of infants long since adults, cars that are no longer, homes that have drifted from view.

Among the litter was an introspective piece I wrote that was intended as the landing page of a new blog that never saw the light of day. There is nothing I wrote that is not still absolutely true. Other than the dragon blog that never became more than a passing fancy. I did write here about dragon themes. You can find them with the help of Google, or click here where I have done the search for you.

Now I remember that I also used my iPad to create an image for the would-be blog. A dragon, for reasons that will shortly become apparent. I tried to find the image, but somehow. all my content in the app I used has somehow been blitzed into oblivion.

All that was in the fall of 2013, just over seven years ago. It turned out that the horizon I imagined where my world would change in a slow dreamy whirlwind was only two years away, events that I barely could have imagined at the time, with extremely positive outcomes I could never have foreseen. I wrote about that here.

I am struck by the candor of what I had proposed to publish for the world to see back in the fall of 2013. So struck, that I am publishing it here. I am setting it in italic to delineate past from present. 

“What's up?

I'm up!

I'm moving up, moving out, growing up, reaching out.

I was born in the year of the Dragon, but I didn't know it.

My mother gave me a Chinese autograph stamp one Christmas.  Made of jade, its base served as a pedestal for a dragon.  She told me my name was engraved in Chinese characters on the base and that it was a dragon stamp because I was born in the year of the dragon.

I no longer remember when that was, but it was many years ago.

2012 was the year of the Dragon.

For a long time, I didn't have a firm sense of who I was.

I recognize my mother's shy little boy in me.  That boy became a teenager, then a man.  A faithful husband.  A loving, caring father.  Not in any sense a dragon.

Somewhere along the way I struggled to understand who I might become.  Confidence was elusive.  Success was hard won.  I often felt that others achieved more easily, more certainly.   When I look back, I see a tentative me.  Some part of me always holding back.  Wary of committing myself.  Content to accept what was on offer.  Cautiously keeping to the middle of the road. 

My outlook was deeply coloured by my earliest experiences in school.

When I think about this (and I have to say that I thought about this many times in my life) a memory often comes to mind.  The flaming carrot-top, outspoken, goody-two-shoes, earnest-to-a-fault, whip-smart, front-row-sitting, teacher's pet, first grade class president.

And there I was, lurking in the back rows, one of two non french-speaking kids in a sea of glib easy-speakers, unable to understand, barely coping, a fish out of water, isolated, wary, sometimes mocked, usually ignored, I might as well have been on an alien planet learning to breathe water.

I consoled myself by thinking that carrot-top had made the critical error of peaking too early.  In first grade.  I liked to think that by sixth grade he was slowly cruising to the bottom, headed to the back of the class, washed up, soon to be expelled.  I am now certain that he excelled all along. 

That early French immersion challenge my parents tossed my way was the right thing for me.  Eventually, pretty quickly in fact, I became fluent in my father's mother-tongue and the culture of Quebec.  A critical skill that serves me well to this day.  It was a harsh way to learn though.  No mercy.  Thrown into the deep end to learn how to swim on my own.

Those early years in school coloured my life.  They made me a believer in the importance of surfing the life-curve, moving slowly and warily to find the right wave that would let me ride to safety.

At some point this strategy began ebbing, threats loomed.  By then I had responsibilities to shoulder.  It wasn't just me.  My family depended on me.  For food, for shelter, for lessons.  If I was content to live quietly, it wouldn't do for those who depended on me.

In time, facing my fears, forcing myself into the unknown, I began to find confidence that I never had.  I found it easier to venture out when the objective was to serve others.  To ensure I was a reliable source of support for my family.  To contribute to the success of my firm, my community, my profession.

Today, I can say this.  I have the curiosity and courage to meet challenges head on.  I have learned to walk, eyes open and looking forward, towards the things that intimidate.  I have learned to deal with the fear of the unknown that paralyzes, by reaching out to learn.  I have, more than once, found myself in challenging situations, when the risks were tangible.  I always felt that learning was the key.  That's my weapon of choice.

That attitude led me to volunteer.  

More recently, I have learned to reach out for things I want.  To assert myself.

All those lessons.  And here I am.

I may be close to becoming the dragon that was lurking in me all this time.

That is the theme I will explore here.

I'm in no rush, so don't expect a flood of posts.

I'm working on a huge project.  Although I have enjoyed a lot of success, and the beginning of an amazing adventure is in sight, there is still a lot to do.  I think of it as rolling a boulder up a hill.  I'm close to cresting the hill.  I have some momentum.  The rest, as they say, may well be a downward slope with less pushing and more guiding to do.

Time will tell.

One of the skills I have is that I can write.  I just don't know how well I can write.

Like many would be writers, I have a novel in the works.  So far I haven't had much time to devote to it.  I have too many full-time jobs at present.

I may decide to try some of the material from the novel out here.  Just to see if anyone likes it.  One of the harshest critiques of someone's writing I have come across is this: "That's not writing, that's typing!"  I sincerely hope never to hear any criticism quite that mean-spirited 

So there you have it.

The bare beginning of yet another blog.”

I like what I wrote back then. The novel? I haven't touched it. Still too many jobs. It's a little sad, if I have to maintain that soul-bearing candor.

Maybe 2021 will be a year that sees me return to the draft.

Saturday, December 26, 2020

A different kind of Christmas celebration

Well... it was just the two of us here, cloistered and sheltered from the pandemic in our intimate warm physical space.

With just our presents, just our presence, and a light sparkling blanket of fresh snow to console us.


Until kids and grandkids burst on the scene, virtually. Thanks to Zoom, FaceTime, and some creative and thoughtful planning, we were able to share brunch, open gifts, marvel and laugh with the toddlers, shed some tears, comfort each other, and chat with family, and friends... almost all the ingredients for a successful Christmas celebration.

Against tall odds, my darling daughter and 2020 secret Santa, managed to get her hands on gifts that I had regretted having put on my Elfster wishlist.

I know, it sounds like I no longer wanted them. Not true, I truly wanted them very, very much.

The regret was because the gifts I was most hoping for are rare and possibly really, really hard to get. I regretted setting a task doomed to almost certain failure.

In the end Lauren's tenacity was no match for mere rarity. A mad eleventh-hour dash to Curbside Cycle following a series of online misunderstandings and e-commerce snafus, made my Christmas wishes a reality.

Wow!

Presenting for the first time on this journal, a couple of Brompton accessories that ensure that Susan and I  will be able to go anywhere we want with our Bromptons, and take them into even the most discerning destinations, be it tucked in beside our table for two in a fancy restaurant, or the cloakroom at the museum.

To the left, a black bag for the Brompton that discretely cloaks the bike from the prying eyes of doormen, concierges, maitre D's, limousine drivers, and other stern, watchful guardians of civility and good order. It's a discrete saddlebag and rides out-of-the-way until it gets its call to service. Think of it as the Brompton's go-anywhere tuxedo.

To the right, the ingenious Brompton tool kit.


It's ingenious first because all the tools needed to do 90% of the mechanical tasks that might become necessary to allow a Brompton adventure to reach a successful conclusion are stored in a crafty custom round container : three wrenches, a ratchet with the necessary bits to fit the Brompton's bits, tire levers, an inner tube patch, and some sandpaper. Flat tire? No problem. Need to re-install the seat you removed to fit your Brompton into your suitcase? No problem.


The other reason that it, like the Brompton itself, is ingenious, is that the toolkit tucks right inside the front section of the Brompton frame that is accessible when the bike is folded. With a tiny bit of ingenuity, you can store a brand new inner tube in the rear section of the frame. 

All invisible and hidden out of the way until the inevitable flat tire becomes an issue that might otherwise put an end to a delightful Sunday escapade.

Thank you Lauren, you are amazing!

My very best wishes to all of you for safe and happy holidays, with the hope that 2021 sees an end to all the drama of 2020.

There is nothing I want more than this.

Thursday, November 19, 2020

The 2020 Distinguished Gentleman's Ride, that wasn't

 


That's right, at long last I have breaking news to report!

But... you'll have to watch the video.

I mean, this may be the first time ever that I have stooped to click bait. So bear with me.

This episode is about how often life throws curve balls.

What I am now seeing more often on YouTube are creators (influencers?) bearing their souls in the most intimate ways. Casey Neistat, Iz Harris, Johnny Harris, Kylie Flavell, to name a few extremely talented individuals who open themselves for all to see and dare to share their humanity. They are braving the trolls and reaching out to us.

This may be an antidote, a balm, that can sooth us, remind us of the best that we can be, and lift our sights to encourage each of us to reach out and help others.

There is something compelling about that.

For more than four years now we have been bombarded from on high with insensitivity, lies, the lowest of low insults, and way too much deeply inappropriate public behaviour that leaves us feeling adrift in a sea of evil and division.

I feel that there is a growing, gnawing desire for the reverse of that. For truth, compassion, empathy, integrity... the glue that binds our communities, instead of the invective and lies that cut deep into society and sow seeds of distrust that threaten to take root and destroy our peace and prosperity.

There's that, and the Covid-19 pandemic that is literally killing hundreds and hundreds of thousands of good ordinary people, driving distance wedges into our families, and separating us from our best friends, day after day, after day, as we attempt to mitigate the invisible risks that surround us.

This episode explores how a worldwide, socially-distanced, charity motorbike ride fell apart for me under the pressures of the pandemic, then bloomed into an unexpected opportunity to build a friendship.

In an upcoming episode that is already in the works, I plan to dive deeper into the best that we can offer each other. It's a tall order, and I'm not yet sure how to produce something that can be a source of inspiration for me, and for you.

No, it has hardly anything to do with Vespas, or Bromptons, or food, or... stay tuned, and wish me luck.

The music for this episode of Life on two wheels is Minor Blues for Booker by E's Jammy Jams, made available courtesy of the YouTube Audio Library.

The copyright in all text and photographs, except as noted, belongs to David Masse.