The Get Off the Bike Blog!
My parents were good people, but like the rest of us, they had their demons. My father talked about what it was like to grow up “poor”. He got up every morning before school, put buckets on the handlebars of his bicycle, and rode up and down the alleyways of town collecting garbage to take home to feed the pigs. Because of that, the kids at school laughed at him and gave him the nickname “Slop Buckets”. Regardless of what else he did, all they saw was him on his bicycle with the buckets on the handlebars.
Dad died at age 87 after raising a family, working his way to the top in his career as a riverboat captain, and many other things, proving that he was indeed a man of ability. But in our last conversations before he died, he talked once again about the pain of “Slop Buckets” that still haunted him. Dad did a lot of things in his life, but he was never able to enjoy them. Dad was never able to get off of that bike.
Like dad, I’ve had my share of nicknames over the years. And like most of us, I’ve had my share of experiences with bullies that have haunted me. Of all the things my dad gave me, the one I am most grateful for is the understanding that I need to let go of those haunts that keep me from being who I truly am, and “Get off the bike”. In a day when so many people are using labels as threats and weapons, my dad taught me to ignore their labels, refuse to allow them to tell me who I am, and do what I can to help others get off their bikes as well. It is a daily adventure, and one I invite you to join me on.
This blog will be about that journey.
The Painting
Early one morning in 1970, my mother, the artist, insisted that I create a painting to enter into the community art show. I was not interested in that. My mind was busy thinking about the things happening in and to the world around me as I prepared to enter college in the Fall. Seven college [...]
