I just had a birthday- um, YAY- and I’ve now hit fifty-five. Double Nickels. That’s me: mid-life, middle-aged, teetering towards my twilight years. Because I came into this world in 1955, they tell me it’s my ‘Golden Birthday’. It’s just a number. Go figure.

It is not just a number. It is a culmination of all of the numbers which have brought me to this point, which is, like, kinda old. I don’t feel old, and a few of my nicer friends and co-workers have said I still look okay and don’t smell like an old guy.

That’s a relief, I guess.

One gentleman I vaguely know asked, ‘what’re ya bitchin’ ‘bout?’ because he assumed I was complaining, when in fact the opposite is true. This birthday has me in awe. I’m rejoicing. I never expected to live this long.

As Mark Twain so famously said, ‘If I knew this, I probably would’ve taken better care of myself’.

Thirty-five years of smoking, ten years of hardcore drinking, and enough Big Macs in my teens to assure at least five heart attacks before I hit fifty-six. Silly, stupid behavior which I could share but won’t. My good drinking buddies- strangers, mostly, rotated between prison and welfare. There were run-ins with the Law myself, though nothing as interesting as insider trading or heroin smuggling. My infractions were primarily D&D (drunk and disorderly) and once, ‘running an illegal house’ (for a brief moment in Chicago history, off-track betting was legal and I had the misfortune to work the back of a betting parlor as a bartender).

On top of that, half the guys I knew in the Seventies & Eighties died due to HIV/AIDS. We went to so many funerals, sometimes I’d forget who I was mourning.

I’m still here, as someone said, and the way I figure, as long as I’m taking up space on the planet it only makes sense to use it wisely. This finally happened in 2000 when I moved to Globe.

I finally slowed down and began to take a look at what’s important.

And I found the answers somewhat quickly: hard work, and other people.

In the grand scheme of things- the flood of oil onto our Gulf beaches, the fact that Rush Limbaugh even has a job let alone an audience, and the fact that NOT A SINGLE PERSON in Globe uses a turn signal- well, my birthday isn’t news.

What I try to remember is how many people are not here anymore, despite the fact that most of them weren’t ready to die. Lung cancer took my Mom at 61- my Dad died of cirrhosis at 53, and my first partner, a great guy named John, died from HIV/AIDS at the age of 34. It satisfies me to not only carry on, but to do so with gusto and aplomb and a very deep feeling of gratitude. And maybe a belief that we really are here for a reason, and those reasons are spelled out in the minutiae of daily work, relationships and quiet time.

‘Double Nickels’ is a great age so far, and I hope the next fifty-five years finds me learning and sharing and listening more. I also hope to find myself in a really nice retirement community, because at 110 years old I’ll need all the care I can get.

It’s a fact that Arizona Summers are sizzling hot and, as a rule, most sane people will spend the next six months in a mall or on their couch in air-conditioned comfort in front of their Big Screen.

Not Bikers. Bikers are always breaking the rules.

Few things in life will keep one from riding. They’re like those mail carriers who brag:

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stay us from the swift completion of our appointed rounds”

Bikers? They have a different motto.

“Whatever it is, it’s better in the wind.”

So, this summer, long after the last of the winter visitors have left for cooler climes, and even lizards have disappeared under their rocks to get away from the heat, we’ve designed a Summer Road Tour for The Children of the Wind.

Five and Dive Summer Tour 2010

We call it the Five and Dive and we hope to heat things up (economically) this summer while offering you some cool reasons to ride our roads, meet our people, drink our beer and have a good time. We’re offering up specials to help you save money – while spending money; good causes to help you add to your lifetime-karma points; and clues, riddles and scavenger hunts to introduce you to things you never knew you wanted to know about us – but now you do.

We initially called the tour the Five and Dime which was a nod to our incredible array of cheap thrills and lo-cost fun throughout this region. It also tied in with our feature on Woolworths. (One of those things you’ll want to pay attention to because it is the answer to a clue)

The Open Road at Roosevelt

But then one of our friends suggested the Five and Dive, over beers at The Huddle. And aren’t all ideas better with beer?  It’s seemed tailor-made for what we were putting together. Of course, I now have to pay Gerry royalties for coming up with the idea. (You can help me out by stopping by Pinal Lumber this summer and picking up a few nails, screws, wood, paint,… whatever you can fit on the bike.)

So, back to the meaning of the Five and Dive.

Did you know the spiritual meaning of number Five deals with travel, adventure, and motion?

According to this woman who runs a site, whats-your-sign.com, she goes on to say that Five “draws our attention to the wonder of life, and beckons us to appreciate the perception of chaos all around us. Five has wild vibrations: primitive and erratic.”

There has got to be a FIVE hidden inside every biker.

Really. Just log on and take a look at what the number two means for instance. You’ll see clearly why TWO does not work here. We could not have a Two and Dive Tour. Wouldn’t work.

And Dive? Well, I don’t have to explain that right?

So, now that I have your attention… let me explain how the Tour works.

It includes a punch card with over 30 merchants and local events throughout this region who invite you to stop in this summer. They have each come up with a special promo just for Tour Riders with punch cards and in exchange for dropping some cash along the way – remember this is an economic stimulus plan – you’ll get your card stamped, a big welcome from these merchants and a good reason to ride!  OK, maybe more – but you’ll have to do the Tour to discover what it is.

The Road Map at Superstition Harley Davidson

As for the clues and the scavenger hunts, we’re going to give you FIVE chances each week to solve a clue, riddle or scavenger hunt which will require some collective brain power. Solving these will result in earning our cool wooden nickels (don’t believe what your father said about not taking wooden nickels.*) worth points towards raffle tickets. Plus, as an added bonus, you’ll discover the inside jokes, arcane facts and local lore which will put you one step closer to being
“one of us.”

(*Even if you don’t “tweet”, check out the hottest Twitter account about Father’s advice. The account is Sh** My Dad Says. The author is a 29 year old, living with his 74 year old dad, who just started tweeting the things he said. He has now published a book & been on Larry King. Here is one from last week: “No. Humans will die out. We’re weak. Dinosaurs survived on rotten flesh. You got diarrhea last week from a Wendy’s.”)

OK, back to the Tour.

To begin, you can pick up the Tour Punch Cards at these FIVE locations beginning June 15th. Cards are $5….
(OMG – there is that number 5 again. Must be a sign!). Superstition Harley is waiving the fee for any riders who come into the Dealership to pick up the card!

Ohter locations include:

The Huddle Sports Bar, The Drift Inn, or 2 Lanes Saloon in Globe,

The Butcher Hook, or Jakes Corner up in Tonto Basin.

You can get your weekly CLUES/RIDDLES by going to globemiamitimes.com

Here you’ll find our EVENTS PAGE  and a link to our FACEBOOK PAGE.
Your first tip of the Tour…..  Bookmark these pages.

Since Globe Miami Times is sponsoring this Tour, we have designed it so you will read the paper, check out the website and – get to know us better during the Five and Dive.  You’ll discover answers to clues by looking at the ads in this summer’s edition, reading the stories and following the links on our website. Interesting Mr. Watson. Is this a plot to corrupt the mind? You decide.

Overlook of the Valley between Globe and Miami

Now for the pay off.  Yes, there will be prizes and good things given away to the deserving. But remember what Robert Pirsig said, in his cult classic, “Zen and the Art of Motorcycling”

“The only Zen you find on tops of mountains is the Zen you bring there.”
See you this Summer!

This was the scene this morning around 7am, as race organizers began sending off the groups of bicyclists according to their category.

by: Linda Gross

The Arizona State Road Race Championships are taking place today in Globe. The event is estimated to bring in over 400 riders in age categories from ten years to seventy years. This will be the fourth year that ProCon, the race organizer has held the event in Globe. Several years ago they held a 3 day event with a short course in Downtown Globe which blocked off streets. This proved to be too problematic for local residents and race organizers, so they have evolved into a one day event which takes place outside the Globe City Limits and utilizes the long stretches and hills between the junction of HWY188 and HWY60 and Roosevelt Lake.

Riders who are 10yrs and up compete in this race

So, be on the lookout for bicyclists today – there will be alot of them on the road heading out to Roosevelt.  The course includes a 39, 59 and 89 mile loop with the finish line at the Cobre Valley Country Club. Race organizers estimate that this event brings 20-30K to the community through food, gas and lodging sales.

By: Linda Gross

I recently got an email from a friend of mine who got it from HER friend in Ohio, who got it from some teacher in Arizona. It was titled Cheap Tomatoes. So I tracked the sources. It seems the initial impetus of this letter was a piece in 2007 by Eric Scholosser on tomato growers in Florida. Picked up later by the Economist, and then revived again in February of 2008 by bloggers who posted the letter. Attached is one bloggers response to some of the fallacies and misstatements. Now, fast forward to April of 2010, and this very same letter is now being circulated to support Arizona’s immigration law, SP1070.

It’s a letter that can make middle-class blood boil. The only problem is…it isn’t the truth, the whole truth…and nothing but.    Here are the links to the trail of “Cheap Tomatoes”

November 30th, 2007 The Economist

ERIC Schlosser’s opinion piece on tomatoes in the New York Times managed in relatively few words to blame the troubles of migrant farm workers on nearly every economic villain in the popular imagination: the fast food industry, fat-cat CEOs, private equity … the piece even invoked Charles Dickens.

Jan 2008 A teacher in California writes a letter titled Cheap Tomatoes which blames the ills of education and economic woes on illegal immigrants. This letter is widely circulated at the time, showing up on Diggers Realm , among others. A response to the letter by one blogger, “Made of Glass “, points out the inaccuracies.

April 2010: The piece is again being re-circulated on the internet in response to Arizona’s immigration law.

If you’re in your mid-fifties as I am, you may remember the old drug store calendars with the cute pictures: chimpanzees in pedal cars, little girls on the telephone, and my favorite- the shot of a little boy in a barber’s chair, tears streaming down his cheeks as he gets his first trim.

One last grasp- or gasp- at youth was all I asked. To let my hair grow long, the way it was in the late 60’s- wind waving it, spring rains wetting it- would somehow melt the years which separated me from the Summer of Love.

The LONG shot

The end result was worth it. After two years, a pelt of thick hair cascaded over my shoulders and down my back. This caused considerable comment, usually from short white middle-aged women wearing outdated turbans.

‘Ohmygawd, you have perfect hair. What a waste it’s on a man!’

Skater dudes gave me thumbs up, and at least twice a week someone wanted to either buy/sell/trade/share marijuana. Or worse.

Sometimes, the police looked at me funny.

Still, I felt like a ROCK STAR.

My sister once said to be careful for what you wished for. She was right. A slight breeze creates tangles worse than gym shoe knots, and any precipitation- or hint of it- plumps up normal hair into 70’s shag carpeting. The whole point was to grow it out in the first place, yet I wore it tied back all the time. Otherwise, it drove me barking insane when it fell across my face.

The CUT

One morning I sprinted across Broad Street, feeling groovy, and pulled the band from my hair. Immediately blinded, I plowed into a planter box which wasn’t there the week before. Damn those City Beautification People. In fact, damn the Beautiful People- I didn’t want to be one anymore. If I ever was.

I dialed up Monica, the owner of Blondie’s Beauty Parlour, and we agreed on a 1:00 appointment for the next day. I communed with the Hair God the night before, saying thanks for the flashback, but it’s time to roll.

The actual act was anticlimactic. First I had a full head of Boy Band hair, and then I looked like I was ready for the school photographer. My neck got cold and my face looked fuller. Charlize Theron called and asked me out for cocktails.

Driving home was terrific. I had the radio up, the windows down, and for the first time in a few years I could really see where I was going, which I’m sure myfellow drivers appreciated. Strands of hair no longer went up my nose or got caught in my Wrigley’d mouth.

The dogs still recognized me when I came through the door, which was a surprise. Or maybe it was that faint scent of lunch from El Ranchito that got their tails wagging.

It was the right decision, and the irony is the hair that I no longer want will be donated to someone who has no hair (a chemotherapy patient) during the Relay for Life event at Harbison Field.

Blondie’s Beauty Parlour is located at 140 West Oak Street in Globe. Monica Evans is my Salon Mistress of choice. You can reach her at (928) 425-8465.

Although we’re not used to that much snow, what really became a problem and even had Walmart shut down, was lack of electricity. The snow and ice had knocked out all electricity in the area; which meant gas pumps didn’t work, heat pumps in homes were inoperable etc. You get the picture.  Not only did this strand alot of people, stretch emergency units to the brink and force us all to be creative in finding heat, food etc, it served as a wake up call to just what could constitute an emergency.

So, I found myself reading the entire article and taking a look at her website; www.thesurvivalmom.com. It’s interesting. And has some valuable advice.  I thought I’d pass it along in case you want to be prepared. I especially liked her, “Lists of Lists” which have such catchy headlines as:

7 Reasons to Start Preparing Today

9 Excuses Why I Haven’t Started Prepping

10 Essential Skills Necessary for Survival

10 Non-Edibles for your Emergency Stash

Valentine’s Day is, among other things, a day for poets. One of the great poets, I would submit, is Paublo Neruda, who could describe his love of an onion with the same passion as he describes lovers in this poem.

Who is your favorite poet?

First, alittle background on the Poet…

Pablo Neruda     Born Neftali Ricardo Reyes Basoalto in Parral, Chile in 1904, Neruda (his pen name, and later legal name) rose to become one of the greatest poets of the 20th century. His poetry includes love poems, historical epics and political manifestos. Neruda was both poet and political activist with the communist party.  Although it was controversial because of his political activism, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. He died in 1973 at the age of 69.   It is his poetry which continues to speak to generations of all ages and backgrounds. Colombian novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez (author of Love in the time of Cholera), as called Neruda “the greatest poet of the 20th century in any language.”
For you lovers, here is his Sonnet XVII, written in 1960

I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
But this, in which there is no I or you,

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