Relative is as Relative Does

I have had a long association with the movie Forrest Gump.  When it first came out I think I saw it three times.  Then way back when Amy and I were "single" (which is what we call the period before we had children) we used to go away for our yearly "honeymoon" which basically meant we would take a brief vacation with just the two of us  to celebrate our anniversary.  On our second "honeymoon" - well, technically the third since Ireland was the first and Cape May was the second - we travelled to Savannah, GA to exhilerate in the Old South charm of the city that provided us settings for Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and JFK among so many others.  Also the birthplace of Johnny Mercer of "Moon River" fame.  And since I had in the not so distant past performed for nine months with Andy Williams in the "Moon River Theatre" it was pretty cool to make that connection.

But the connection we really had to make was sitting on the bench in the spot where they filmed the bench scenes for Forrest Gump.  I'm sorry to say that I don't have the digital photos to share since we don't have on file anything before 1999 but use your imagination and imagine me where Forrest is sitting above.  Of course, when it comes to the movie, I guess the character I would most resemble is Lieutenant Dan (a.k.a., Gary Sinise below with his Lieutenant Dan Band)

(Gary Sinise)

(Not Gary Sinise)

As a matter of fact, that's what a lot of my ACT students used to call me when I first started teaching at Syosset High School.  Since the movie had only come out in 1994, it was still fresh in their minds.  Especially this scene;



Now where was I?  Oh yes, Relativity.  I'm not necessary speaking of the Theory of Relativity (not to be confused with Theory of a Deadman - a Canadian rock band) which as we know was developed by cyclist Albert Einstein while on a cycling jaunt;

(Let's see if I divide how fast I'm going by the number of wheel revolutions.....)

Nope, I'm talking about the feeling we all get when we accomplish something we've been planning for so long and then it happens and you're left with that feeling of "Now what?"  That feeling of wanting to still be relevant.  I've written about it in the past, in fact on numerous occasions. 

And I'm not alone in this feeling.  Recently I was speaking to a long time suporter of Connor's Army who runs a few philanthropic activities of her own.  I won't mention her name her in order to protect her anonymity (but you know who you are) and she was relating how frustrating it feels to do so much work and not reach the goal she had reached for herself.  I certainly do understand.  I had set a goal for myself of raising $50,000 last summer - the goal of trying to send ten campers to Sunrise Day Camp.  We only reached half of the amount when all was said and done.  And I have been feeling so incredibly adrift for the year since we got back because I felt like my family and I worked so hard and sacrificed so much (both financially, physically and emotionally) and now its as if we never did it.  No one remembers what we've done or appreciates any longer what a normal American family did just becuase it was a good thing to do. 

And then there have been the last three weeks at Sunrise Day Camp.  This past week alone have been an amazingly rejuvenating experience as I have been reminded daily of why my family and I gave up our summer, why I risked completely rupturing the disc in my back, why we risked out healthy pedalling in 115+ heat.  I have seen the joy in the faces of the kids that are attending the camp.  I'll never know which kids have been able to have the experience of Sunrise because of my efforts but these past three weeks have been a daily reaffirmation of why my fundraising makes a difference and continues to be relevant.  Moments such as seeing the looks of complete joy when the campers got the chance to experience the carnival with all the bouncy rides during the second week of camp.  I realized that except for the fundraising I and others had done, some of these campers would never experience that kid of joy.  Yes, here on Long Island we get spoiled by all the parties at Pump it Up and other establishments.  But for many of our campers who come from a more urban environment, this was the first time they had ever had the chance to do this sort of thing.  And there will be many more such experiences this summer.

And then there are the things the kids have said to me over the last three weeks.  The first week, five or six campers thanked me for what I did last summer.  Then the second week I was sitting at lunch with some campers from the Leadership group and one of the campers said to me, "I want to thank you becuase you've really inspired me.  I want to do something to make a difference."  As I simultaneously tried to hold back the tears and not choke on my sandwich I had enough blood flow in my brain to be truly thankful for that moment.  Becuase if there was one kid who was brave (and self aware) enough to voice that thought, there are probably more who are having the same thought and just haven't said anything.  And that made me feel definitely relevant.

And then this past week we suffered through and incredibly heat wave.  It wasn't like what my family and I went through in middle America last summer but it was hot and it was stiffling and it was hard on these campers.  And yet, one of the campers came up to me on Thursday and said, "We have drama with you today, I'm so excited!".  Now normally that wouldn't be such a big deal.  Except for the fact that this girl is one that I've known for three years now and who hardly ever cracks a smile. when she sees me.  Yet this time she was smiling and saying how much she was looking forward to doing drama with me!  Now that is certainly relevant and was just the reminder I needed that what I do at Sunrise matters to someone.

So yes, I will still continue to try my best to make a difference in the lives of others, particularly those fighting their individual battles with cancer.  And I will now also get the chance to help make a difference in the lives of my neighbors in Northport as part of the Northport Fire Department.  And I will continue to try to make a difference in trying to help instill the love of drama in just one more young person.  No, I may never again be in the papers (or host the weather for that matter), but that's really not what its about or why I do any of this.  To be relative, I have to act relative and try to make a difference every day.  No matter if it's not good enough for anyone else but me.

And as I voice these thoughts, I'm glad to say I'm back on my bike and training almost every day in order to be in shape for my next assignment as part of the Northport Rescue Bike Squad - you never know when my being able to pedal fast might help someone in need!  And if all goes well, I will start EMT-B classes in September!

So Stay well my friends and I'll see you on the road!

Oh, and for a little dessert after reading all of this about being relative, here is a clip of a song called "All or Nothing" from the band Theory of a Deadman. Hey, they're not bad for a bunch of Canadians (although the road in the video looks strangely familiar);



TTFN

Riding the (not so) Friendly Roads



(Welcome to Long Island - Now Get the Hell off MY Road!!!!!)

How do they do it?  How are people able to keep up a blog with everything else that goes on in their busy lives?  I guess it becomes a matter of priority and with the craziness that has been going on in the Tri State area I have allowed this blog to become the last thing on my mind.

The first thing of course is Hurricane Sandy which everyone around here has taken to calling "Superstorm Sandy".  My understanding is that the distinguishment (call it semantics) has something to do with insurance and FEMA assistance.  The Connor household was fortunately spared any damage to our home or property but those around us experienced plenty.  Some of my colleagues lost homes and some of my students as of this writing are still living with others or in hotels because they are still without power.  We lost power for about five days, got it back, lost it and then got it back again and we've been doing well every since - even surviving the Nor' Easter.

The second upheaval that has happened and has kept me off the blog trail has been the election.  No one can argue that this was the most contested and contentious election in many years and to tell the truth, when I was on the computer I was too drawn into reading all the articles about what was going on and being terribly afraid for the future of our country.  The election is over and President Obama won reelection (some have already started arguing that it was all because of Sandy - as if he can control the weather) but even that sense of stability will be taken from us as Republicans have already vowed to block him on everything they possibly can.

And the third event that has been keeping me away from these hallowed pages has been the Association of Creative Thespians' production of The 39 Steps which opens tomorrow here at SHS.  Because of the Superstorm, the Nor' Easter and the lack of gas to be had for buses or parents, we lost two weeks of rehearsal during that critical time when we traditionally clean and fix timing, finish the set and generally tech the show.  Last Friday, with less than a week before the opening of the show I put the question up to the cast and crew of the show - Do we continue?  I told them that I was willing to do either but it had to be a majority vote of the combined cast and crew.  If the majority voted to do it then I asked of them two things - 1) that we give it our very best shot and we put ALL of our effort into getting this show in the very best shape we possibly can, even if it means extra rehearsals and 2) that we use this as a fundraiser to help those in our own community and in other communities on Long Island who have been effected by the storms.  It wasn't unanimous, but they overwhelmingly agreed to go through with the show.  And despite all of the lost time, we are going to have an incredible show.  It won't be as clean as it could have been but it will be good - and we will raise funds to help others.  I couldn't be prouder of my kids.  They truly have shown what can happen when you choose to use your art for the good of others.

So with all of the craziness that has been happening in the last three weeks, I find that I haven't been riding, blogging or really doing much of anything.  

In terms of my riding, it's been far too long since I've done any meaningful miles and I have found myself falling into the trap of complacency that I guess all explorers fall into upon their return.  I haven't been riding as much and I haven't been able to get myself back into a disciplined groove.  I find that I just can't get myself as motivated to ride every day as I did over the summer.  Sometimes its just simply I didn't have a good night's sleep and I can't get up in the morning, nor can I force myself to get out of bed.  I'm not sure that I need to go to the extent of testosterone replacement therapy;

 



but I am finding that my get-up-and-go is not going as fast as it used to.  Now part of that may be the slow slouching towards 50 that I guess everyone finds themself doing at this age but I find myself in a state of almost constant mental flagellation (not to be confused with mental flatulation which just renders me stupid) trying to get myself motivated to do what I should be doing. 

So I ultimately feel like I'm letting down my family, my friends, my supporters, and especially the kids of Sunrise - which then starts the spiraling downward arc all over again and I find myself too disheartened to get my fat butt on the road.  Which has all led to the fact that I have gained back about seven pounds of all the weight I had lost over the summer - again, setting me up on a disheartened downward spiral.  I know all I need to do is get back to riding consistently but I just can't find the drive that I once had.

Now I don't know if I'm dealing with a sense of loss from the attainment of a goal.  Some who know me would argue that I've always been like this - never satisfied once I have what I have attained, that I'm constantly in need of a challenge.  Perhaps that's true but it does keep me moving and searching for a new challenge.  I guess that's what drove me to get my Master's in School District/Building Administration.  I'm now looking forward to the challenge of being a volunteer EMT in the Northport Fire Department.  It is my hope that I can eventually be a part of their bicycle EMS team that works all the events in Northport.  How cool would it be to combine my passion for riding with my desire to help my community.

I also believe there is another thing that has been influencing my lack of joy with riding on Long Island.  While I was riding across the country this summer I rode in a number of different scenarios and locales - from crowded highways with almost no shoulder (thank you so much Adventure Cycling Association), to twisting mountain roads in Kentucky alongside loaded coal trucks, to crowded urban roads (Baltimore, Camden, Newark, NYC) with busy traffic.  However, it wasn't until I got back to Long Island that I started feeling as if I were just a two-wheeled mobile target for some sort of traffic mishap game.  If you recall, the day I returned to LI, I almost was "right hooked" by a woman in Manhasset - 20 miles from the end of my journey.  It seems that once I crossed the East River cyclists once again become fair game in a motorists game of hit and run. 

For the longest time this has been bothering me.  As you may recall from previous posts, I actually do talks with the driver's ed classes at SHS about sharing the road with cyclists.  I work hard to make sure these young motorists know that cyclists legally have a right to be on the road and that it's pretty much illegal for us to be riding on the sidewalks (unless you're 12 or younger) as this video starring John Leguizamo so humorously demonstrates;



However, there are a great number of older motorists on Long Island that either don't know this or just don't give a damn.  So as a result they honk at us as they are right behind us, they "buzz" us, or sometimes they try (sometimes successfully as I am living testament to) to run into us to prove their point.

But that's not the worse part.  The worse part is the attitude of my fellow Long Island cyclists.  Now I realize that perhaps .05% of the riders on Long Island might actually be competitive cyclists who compete year round and who really train in a way to be more competitive.  I do occasionally get the chance to ride with some of these gusy in the AA group of the Huntington Bicycle Club.  But the majority of us are what I guess are called "enthusiasts" (which I think is a fancy way to say its our hobby) so we're really not training for the next national event, we're simply doing it to get/stay in shape and because we enjoy it.  I would say that 90% of the cyclists on Long Island probably fall within that category.  I include myself in there so don't think I'm being all high and mighty here.  Yes, I rode my bicycle across America but I am in no way a competetive cyclist.  Yes, I can ride for 12 hours a day at an average speed of 17 mph but again, I am not a competetive cyclist.  So I feel a certain kinship to those of my two wheeled brethren with whom I share these dangerous roads.  I feel their pain (literally in three different cases) and I truly get the focus you need when riding the roads of Long Island.

And yet, why the hell is it too much to ask you to wave back when you pass me on the road?!?!?  If you're not one of those .05% of riders who are training for a major cycling event then at least have the decency to acknowledge the existence of a fellow rider who is waving to you.  Are you really working that hard above your threshold level that you can't spare the wattage to lift your hand?  Really?

I met all sorts of fellow cyclists this summer from the super prepared, streamlined racers in Colorado training for an upcoming event (they left me in the dust but loaded down as I was I hung with them for a few miles), to young kids without helmets just bombing the neighborhood.  Almost without exception they always waved back, even the "enthusiasts" training in Washington, D.C. who seemed as if they were at least contemplating some serious wattage output.

The point is, we're under the same pressure and WE are the minority out here on the God given Island of Long and it would be nice if we could just acknowledge each others' existence.  It's not like we have to high-five as we pass each other (which would cause one of us to swerve into the other lane, thereby proving to motorists we're total jerks) or to even chest bump as we pass (which would be totally impressive since we're both going at 20+ mph in opposite directions - heeeeeeyyyyyy, there's a great math problem, if Gene is traveling north at 23 mph on his bicycle and Fred is traveling south at 22 mph on his bicycle and they both bunny hop in the air and chest bump, who will get the more severe concussion?  Solve for y).  But you know what WOULD be nice my fellow cyclists?  Just a slight raising of your hand or even the passing head nod, just to say, "I'm with you, man".

For those of you readers out there who don't bike commute on the deadly streets of Long Island, you probably don't have any idea what I'm talking about.  So I say to you, come on out, the road is fine!  And if you e-mail me or message me, I'll be glad to ride it with you!  For those of you who do bike commute on these thoroughfares of torment - just give a little wave!

Stay well, and I'll see you on the road!