Bicycle, bicycle, bicycleI want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle I want to ride my bicycleI want to ride my bike…  Queen, Bicycle Race, 1978 (lyrics on original video here) How could I begin a blog about my lifelong fascination with one of humankind’s greatest of inventions, the bicycle, without homage to my favourite Rock band, Queen and its iconic lead singer, Freddy Mercury. There is an element of escapism in the song along with political undertones, and rampant sexism (65 naked female professional models rode around the Wimbledon stadium track on bicycles in the song’s video release). I abhor the sexism. However, like most things in my very limited…

For me, Christmas pretty much always has been steeped in traditions, rituals, and kind of living tableaus of memories anchored in smells, tastes, sounds, and emotions. Growing up Protestant in the United Church of Canada, I did know what Christmas was supposed to mean in the Christian religion. And yet, during the 1950s Christmas was just chock full of secular, celebratory events that seemed to overshadow or subsume the religiosity of the annual event. Perhaps this word cloud encapsulates the admixtures of Christmas-time meanings…. It seemed to me as a boy that the richness of Christmas was akin to this word cloud in that there were so many layers to…

In my last blog, I ruminated on developing hip osteoarthritis (OA) and the impact of living with OA, in particular its impact on my lifelong passion for running. I have adapted and over the summer, I became a cycologist (an alluring new kind of cerebral nuance on cyclist that I saw on a t-shirt with an obvious pun on psychologist) sporting a new electric assist bicycle, this one: It is a Gazelle Ultimate C80 53cm, Sienna Light in colour. In late June, it was mostly assembled and shipped from a company called Citrus Cycles in Chemainus, British Columbia. Behind it, on the wall is a shelf I built for the…

Today, on 28 June 2021 as if to reify and bolster my intention to start to write this blog, a book I had loaned was returned to me. It was this one: The title always reminds me of the start of every good story, ‘once upon a time.’ In another blog, I have alluded to this book briefly. First published in 1978, Parker’s fictionalized account of Quenton Cassidy’s long distance running discipline, devotion, and physical skill remains the best selling running novel to date with over 100,000 copies sold. There is a sequel, Again to Carthage (2008) and a prequel, Running in the Rain (2015), neither of which appealed to…

We saw him ambling along so many times, always with his three-prong walking cane and barely perceptible limp on one leg, perpetually wearing a slight grin, white peaked hat, grey, baggy pants, zippered-up jacket, and slightly rotund in overall appearance. For many years, his wife, equally affable was his walking companion as was his small dog – a terrier tethered to a retractable leash, if memory serves – best companions on his neighbourhood excursions. She died of cancer some years ago but his dog, consistently yipping to make his presence known while he uttered ‘now, now…’ with his grin undeterred, still  lived on a few more years. Annoying, to us, …