Point of View

If there is one thing I learned building bicycle frames, it is that no two people are alike.

If you could assemble a hundred people, all the exact same height, and then further separate into groups made up of those with similar leg length.

You would find within those groups, the thigh, lower leg and foot measurements would all vary.

Even within the same race, people have different facial features, complexions, hair color, etc. When you consider all peoples, the variations are infinite. An individual’s finger prints are unique, and now we know that DNA is too.

Most people accept these differences and seldom question why. Therefore, it really should be no surprise that people’s opinions will vary even more infinitely than our physical differences.

What are opinions but a collection of thoughts, based on our individual beliefs and experiences? Sometimes called a “Point of View,” meaning literally, the world as one individual sees it from where they stand.

No two individuals can have the same view if they stand in different places. 

In spite of this we sometimes argue and fight defending our point of view, or try to impose our opinions on others.

We accept every other difference in the human species, why do we expect the thought pattern of others to be in line with ours? We are each a free thinking spirit, and I can’t think of anything more random that a person's thoughts.

Could it be because our opinions are the yardstick by which we view and evaluate the world? It is how we judge situations and other people. Our opinions have been formed largely by our life experiences, our parents, teachers and other pivotal people in our lives.

Our opinions can change over time with changing circumstances, if we find a better one we change it. However, at any given time our opinion is the best it can be. We just can’t understand why anyone would have a different opinion, after all, ours is the best.

It is not the difference of opinion that is wrong, it is the failure to see that the other’s view point is from an entirely different place.

It is the single most cause of conflict between individuals, co-workers, friends, and families. On a larger scale, it is the basic reason nations assemble armies and go to war with each other.

I have found that defending one’s point of view is just a huge waste of time and energy. It achieves little. Rarely does either side move any closer to the other’s way of thinking. Often it drives the two sides further apart

Instead I find it more constructive and fruitful to listen to the other’s opinion. Another’s estimation is often difficult to understand and may even arouse aversion.

But by the simple act of listening, I can better understand the other's point of view without the obligation that it has to become my point of view. I may not necessarily agree, but I may see the position he is standing that gives him that view.

Blindness is not always the inability to see, it is ofttimes caused by refusing to step out of the darkness. Just my point of view.

First posted April 2012

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Six short tales from across the years

1.) As a child during the 1940s I lived in a house in England with no electricity and no water piped into the house. Water was brought in by bucket from a communal well outside. Lighting was by oil lamp and candles. My mother cooked with a coal fired range and baked wonderful pies and cakes. She did so without a thermometer on the oven.

She ironed with a flat iron also heated on the stovetop. She would spit on the iron to test the temperature, the spit would boil and run off immediately if it was hot enough. She had a pair of flat irons, one would be heating while she ironed with the other for a minute or so before it cooled.

2. It was early 1946 in England; WWII had been over less than a year. I was ten years old. King George VI, father of Queen Elizabeth was coming through our town on his way somewhere else. In the days leading up to this event, we made paper flags at school

Whether real flags were not available, or the school was too cheap to buy us flags, I don’t know. But we each drew and colored a British flag on both sides of a piece of paper and then glued it to a stick.

The day finally came, and we all lined up at the roadside. We waited, and we waited, freezing our little asses off, for at least an hour. Finally, here came the motorcade, passing through at about 45 mph. We all started cheering and waiving our little paper flags.

Someone shouted, “There he is” and pointed. I think I saw King George VI that day, I can’t be certain, but I think I did.

3.) As an eighteen-year-old in 1954, walking home in the early hours of a Sunday morning, after a Saturday night out, when an older drunk man, probably in his forties, tried to pick a fight with me. He took a swing at me but missed and fell over. I carried on walking home but heard a tremendous crash as he had fallen backward through the plate glass window of a television shop. The noise was deafening as the sound amplified through the empty streets. The last I saw of the drunk, he was lying on his back amongst the TV sets, with his legs in the air.

I took off running, and was chased by two American Military Police, in a Jeep. They pulled alongside me, and when they saw I was not an American Serviceman, they stopped and gave up the chase. I made it home without further incident. Later the local newspaper told the story of a broken store window mystery, and that nothing was stolen. There was no mention of the drunk guy. I guess he was not seriously hurt and had left the scene.

There was a large American Air Force Base, near where I lived. The Military Police would patrol the streets but had no jurisdiction over civilians. We called them "Snow Drops" because they wore white helmets, reminding us of a British wild flower that has white bell shaped petals and is called a Snow Drop.

4.) In 1968 (Age 32.) I saw Jimi Hendrix play in Nottingham, England, At the time he was still relatively unknown in America. The show was in a small venue and was the loudest concert I have ever been to. He had Marshall speakers stacked floor to ceiling. I stood at the back of the room and the sound was actually pushing my chest in. I don’t believe it was by chance his band was called “The Jimi Hendrix Experience.”

5.) In the mid 1980s the owner of a bike store in Denver asked me if I would make an exception for a very special customer and personally measure him for a custom frame. The customer was the manager of the Denver Broncos football team. (I don’t recall his name.) The team was coming to San Diego to play the Chargers and after the game he would drive up to see me.

The outcome was, the Chargers beat the Broncos, and the team and the manager took an early flight home. (Obviously, sore losers.) I never did get to measure him or build him a frame. Had I done so I would probably remember his name.

6.) In the late 1980s I was approached by Fila, the sports clothing company. They were interested in a line of bicycles with the Fila name on them. Two people from the company came to my shop to look at my operation, and we talked about my building these frames. They must have dropped the idea, I never heard back, and I don't recall anyone else making a Fila bike.

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Blogger's Block

Sitting at the keyboard
Staring at the screen,
A case of bike blog writer’s block
The worst I’ve ever seen.

To write exclusively about
A subject like a bike,
And try to keep it interesting
The stuff that people like.

Is really not that easy
And like my Momma said,
There always will be days like these
When there’s nothing in my head.

The bicycle so simple
You push one pedal down,
The other one comes up again
And the wheels go round and round.

Have I reached the limit?
Is there nothing more to say?
Will it all come back again
If I wait another day?

Because I was fortunate
To build a bike or two
Doesn’t mean that what I say
Is absolutely true

I try to write about the things
I've learned throughout the years
And stimulate the grey stuff
In between your ears

Often I will write about
Something or another
Some of you will share my view
And then there will be others

Who express a different opine
With words that are quite strong
But often there’s no black or white
There is no right or wrong

For example if make you think
About safety when you ride
Then does it really matter
If opinions collide?

Better our opinions
Than your head on solid metal
And you're just a statistic
When all the dust has settled

I'm not always a bike guru
With advice that cyclists seek
I’ll be the Devil’s Advocate
On a muddy two-way street

If my simple inane writings
Touch one reckless soul
Make them think about their safety
Then I’ve reached my goal

Just get out and ride your bike
Be safe along the way
Live to ride but ride to live
Enjoy another day.

If by chance you are still reading
Maybe I’ve entertained,
Made something out of nothing
And my posting’s not in vain.


Please check back again, after this it can only get better.

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Kirkpatrick McMillan

Growing up in England and going to school there I was taught that a Scottish blacksmith named Kirkpatrick McMillan (1812 – 1878) invented the first pedal driven bicycle in 1839.

The story goes that McMillan (Right.) saw a Hobby Horse being ridden near his home in Dumfries, Scotland; he decided to build himself one.

On completion he realized it would be an improvement if the machine had a means of propulsion so it could be ridden without putting his feet to the ground.

Cranks were attached to the rear wheel; movement was by connecting rods attached to pedals worked in a reciprocating motion by the rider’s feet. The exact same principle can be seen on a child’s pedal car to this day.

Today there are doubts cast on the claim that Kirkpatrick McMillan was the first to build a pedal driven bicycle. The problem was that McMillan never patented his invention, and it appears never even exploited the idea for profit.

Another Scottish blacksmith, Gavin Dalzell from Lesmahagow, copied the idea in 1846 and produced so many that for almost 50 years he was thought to be the inventor.

Then in the 1890s a wealthy corn trader named James Johnston, who just happened to be the nephew of Kirkpatrick McMillan, decided to throw a lot of money into proving that his uncle, now deceased, was indeed the inventor.

He unearthed all manner of neat stories, including one where in 1842 his uncle rode his bicycle 68 miles from Dumfries to Glasgow. While in the Gorbals District of Glasgow, McMillan colided with a young girl after she ran in front of his bicycle, injuring her slightly. He was fined five shillings.

A story was said to appear in a Glasgow newspaper reporting “An anonymous gentleman on a velocipede was fined five shillings.” Johnston claimed this was his uncle. However, there are doubts today that this incident actually happened or that the newspaper article even exists.

This is the problem; James Johnston said a lot of things but never backed it up with documentation.

He even had a blacksmith named Thomas McCall build a replica of his uncle’s machine for the 1896 Stanly Show.

Today this same replica can be seen in the Bicycle Museum at Drumlanrig Castle. (Above left.)

Thomas McCall had himself been building these machines since 1869.

The McMillan replica in the museum looks an awful lot like those attributed to Thomas McCall. (Picture right.) Right down to the horses head carved on the front.

So is this a true replica of McMillan's original, or did McCall take Johnston’s money and then sell him one of his old stock models?

These would have been obsolete by the late 1800s following the invention of the chain drive, and McCall would have been more than happy to unload one of his old machines. Especially as he was 62 years old by then, maybe retired and could use the cash.

James Johnston may have been fully aware of this and knew that the Thomas McCall bicycle was not a true McMillan replica. This is only speculation on my part, but it was these attempts by Johnston to prove McMillan was the first by any means, or at any cost that now tends to cast doubt on the claim.

Was history re-written; dates fudged? It was certainly accepted as fact in Great Britian during the first half of the 20th. Century, and is still stated as such in many books and articles.

I like to keep an open mind. The point is even if it can’t be proved McMillan was the first, it probably can’t be disproved either. Kirkpatrick McMillan it seems was a modest man who never sought fame and fortune from his idea.

In spite of this his name will continue to have a place in history, along with the other names associated with the building of this type of machine; the ones I have mentioned here like Gavin Dalzell and Thomas McCall. Rightly so, because these men were all early pioneers of bicycle building.

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The Golden Age

There is a period in recent history known as the Golden Age of Cycling, during the late 1940s after WWII and into the 1950s.

In countries like Italy, France, Belgium and Switzerland, professional cyclists were the super stars of their day.

It is the period that the Eroica event celibrates, and tries to recapture.

It was the era when I started cycling, and I remember what a joy it was to ride a bike in England back then. In the UK there was a lot less motorized traffic, and people were in less of a hurry.

We could always ride two abreast anywhere, and it was unlikely there was opposing traffic when a car needed to pass a couple of cyclists, or even a bunch of twenty or more.

There was no honking of car horns or screaming abuse, most people had grown up riding a bike to school, or probably their first job was delivering groceries on a bike, so they could relate. There was coexistence on the roads.

It has occurred to me recently that this era was not just the Golden Age of Cycling, but it was the Golden Age, period.

For a few brief years there was peace and prosperity, the world economy was booming as everyone rebuilt after the war. There were plenty of hard manual labor jobs available, where a person could work physically hard. Jobs for people of all levels of education.

Over the years life has become easier and easier, but easy does not necessarily go hand in hand with the quality of life.

Have we reached a point where our quality of life is now at a standstill or even in reverse?

At one point in ancient history people had to chase animals with a stick in order to eat and survive, life was extremely hard and there was much suffering.

The problem as I see it is that it took tens of thousands, if not millions of years to get from killing animals with a stick, to tying a rock on the end of the stick to make a simple tool.

Now in just the last two or three hundred years, technology has exploded and continues to develop at an ever increasing and alarming rate of speed.

Meanwhile our DNA, our bodies have not caught up with technology. We are still programmed to chase animals with a stick. We no longer have to work physically hard in order to eat, the result is we exercise too little, and eat too much.

Our children are unable to follow their basic instinct, and are constantly told, "Don't run." Watch any baby animal at play and it involves chasing each other, training for later life when they are either chasing or running away from other animals.

When I was a child our games too consisted of chasing each other, I remember I pretty much ran everywhere, two miles to school and back. Running was effortless, it seemed my feet hardly touched the ground. 

I loved to climb trees, sitting at the top of an eighty foot tree, looking out over the canopy of a wooded area, is an experience I will never forget. Squirrels and birds would come and sit close to me. I cannot remember the last time I witnessed a kid in a tree.

It is a shame children and young adults cannot experience adventure. When I was fourteen I went touring on my bike with a school friend. We rode all over England, we slept in a tent, or stayed at Youth Hostels for very little money.

Maybe the reason video games are so popular is because it satisfies a need for adventure, along with a primitive instinct to chase something.

The problem is only virtual adventure, all in the mind and there is no physical effort associated with it. Real adventure prepares one for the real world. It involves physical activity, and interaction with real people.

One answer for a young person would be to take a job like construction work that is hard physical labor, or take up a sport so the exercise and training has an end purpose.

The problem is some are so stressed working to maintain a “comfortable” life style, they just want to relax after a hard day at the office, and this can lead a sedentary lifestyle.

If we are honest, we don’t work hard anymore, not physically hard that is. Our minds work hard, multitasking, trying to cram a million things into our day. We rush here, we rush there. We end each day mentally exhausted, rather than physically exhausted.

Physical exhaustion means sleeping soundly at the end of the day, whereas, mental exhaustion means stress and the likelihood of being unable to sleep.

Governments are not going to change things for us, it is up to each individual to decide on his/her own lifestyle. “Less is more” is a worn out cliché I know, but learning to live simply on less, rather than trying to make more, is worth considering.

Question: Given that the Corona Virus has placd many people's life on hold, what are your plans for the future? What are you doing to make your life better? Not necessarily more prosperous, or easier, but a better quality of life.

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