Unexpected Benefits

A decade ago, I had an insight about motorcycling.  Just now, I had a similar insight about fashion.  The revelations are analogous.

After learning how to ride a motorcycle, I realized that my ability to drive cars improved significantly.  Insurance company researchers have confirmed this -- motorcyclists, when they drive cars, get in fewer accidents than non-motorcyclists.

The reason is obvious.  To operate a motorcycle safely, you need to pay close attention and develop skills at assessing traffic-situations.

Over the past four years, I've shopped for and worn female clothes.  I just realized that my male wardrobe is significantly improving.  The skills I've learned from dressing female have migrated and improved my ability to dress as a man.

This is not unimportant.  I now shop more effectively for male clothes; I know where to look and what to buy; and I gather individual pieces to combine into attractive (male) outfits.  Looking in my closet, I'm impressed at my male clothing and have more sartorial tools at my disposal.

The reason for this benefit is the same one from motorcycling -- I pay more attention now to shopping and have developed greater skill at buying and wearing clothes.

Neurologists and psychologists agree that knowledge learned for one purpose often gets used for other purposes.  Our brains aren't limited; improving one area sets the stage for improving other areas.

Has this ever happened to you? 

For example, if you help a husband or boyfriend with his wardrobe, are you better at shopping for him than he is?  Why do you believe that's true?

Joan Jett

Name a bad-girl, my age, who still rocks with abandon...  Joan Jett!

 I recently saw the movie "CBGB" and it reminded me of my love for Joan Jett.  Joan's been battling in the male-dominated world of rock music since the Seventies.  She started with Cherie Currie in their band, "The Runaways;" she's done solo work; and she skyrocketed to fame with "Joan Jett and the Blackhearts."

Regardless of how young you are, you've likely heard her hits -- "I Love Rock 'n' Roll"; "Bad Reputation"; and "Cherry Bomb".

Joan created an iconic persona of bad-girl: black leather jacket; black pants; signature hairdo and heavy eye-makeup.  Her look has shifted a little over the years but stayed recognizable.

Motivated by a concern for animal welfare, Joan's been a vegetarian her whole adult-life.

There's been rampant speculation during Joan's long career about her sexual orientation.  Joan's always refused to comment on that subject or release any private information.  As someone who intimately understands that situation, I saw good for her.  We're all entitled to privacy.  Just 'cause people enjoy our work doesn't entitle them to know who we're loving and bedding.

Do you know Joan Jett?  Do you like her music?

Alchemy

When it comes to food, I'm an alchemist. I experiment with ideas nobody else considers. Ideas that sound bizarre. Sometimes they don't work, but sometimes they do. I created a nice one over the weekend.

Recently I bought Dundicut peppers, which are dried chili peppers from Pakistan. I've never used them before and was unsure how. My first attempt, simply popping them into a dish, was disappointing. Dundicuts are reputed to be very hot, but dropping them into a dish added neither ...flavor nor heat. In response, I did some research and learned to crush them before use. That releases oil inside which is where capsicum and taste reside.

To try the Dundicuts in different ways, I crushed up a dozen peppers (in my very cool marble mortar-and-pestle) and added some garlic powder for extra flavor. This created a powder potent with pizzazz.

I sampled the mixture in ordinary vegetable dishes and it works nicely. Then, this morning, I took a risk. I tried adding the mixture to something none of you would try -- Greek yogurt. It's delicious! An explosion of tempting flavor in creamy texture. I ate it straight but you could easily dab it onto other food for a topping of moist flavor.

Ya never know until you try...  Do you experiment with cooking?

Bursting With Brio

This vivacious dress put me in high spirits.  Its bold design and bright colors, amplified by an unusual hem (longer on the sides and shorter in the middle), makes me smile widely.  If a garment can bring you joy, this one does.

What do you think?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Friend's Accident

I tweeted yesterday about my friend Jim.  Last Sunday, he got in a motorcycle accident.  He was riding down the road, minding his own business, when a car suddenly turned left in front of him and blocked his path.  This is the most common scenario of car/motorcycle crashes.  The driver always claims they "didn't see" the motorcycle but that's just a lame excuse for not paying attention.

I've known Jim for fifteen years.  He and his wife Jan are wonderful friends.  I've gone on long-distance motorcycle trips with them (e.g., Nova Scotia) and enjoy their company.  Jim is certainly one of the best riders I know -- he's ridden motorcycles for 45 years and this is his first accident.  He and Jan toured Europe on motorcycle and have visited almost every State in this country by bike.

Jim always has at least three motorcycles in his garage and, in this accident, he was riding the fastest, most technologically advanced sportbike in existence today (BMW S1000RR).  Jim doesn't mind spending $30,000+ on a motorcycle and he replaces his bikes every year or two.  Visiting his garage is an opportunity to check out the coolest machines on the market.

Jim takes his bikes to a professional racetrack a dozen times a year.  It was at his urging that I joined him at the track for the first time two years ago.  I had a blast and blogged about it.

Anyway, getting to the point...  when Jim realized he was going to hit the car, he instantly braked and scrubbed off most of his speed.  (The brakes on that bike are phenomenal.)  He'd been travelling the speed-limit of 40mph and was able to reduce his momentum to half of that.  Nonetheless, there was an impact and he banged himself up good.  Fortunately, nothing was seriously broken and he has only one area of bad road-rash (abrasion) which is the equivalent of second-degree burn.  Of course Jim wears top-notch gear and that protected his body significantly.  He spent a night in a hospital for observation because he lost consciousness and they worried about possible brain damage; that turned out fine.  Whatever brain damage he has was pre-existing.  :-)

I went over to Jim and Jan's house last night.  We ate pizza, drank beer and chatted about everything.  It was reassuring to see Jim is basically okay; he just needs to heal.  Jim joked about getting (imaginary) sponge-baths from his attractive nurse at the hospital.  Jan played along; their union is one of the closest I've ever seen.  They are two people completely in synch with each other.  They will be together for life.

Oh, did I mention?  The motorcycle I rode over to their house (BMW K1200LT) is one I bought from Jim a decade ago when he was impatient to buy a newer bike.  My motorcycle practically rode itself over to Jim's when it realized it was returning home.

I know many of you fashion-bloggers may not have any interest in motorcycles, but this is my blog and I want to share my day.  Before I saw Jim in person last night, I was genuinely worried about him.  As careful as we are when we ride, the potential for serious harm always looms over us.

Have you ever been in an accident?

Well, This Is Awkward...

I've had two long-term relationships in my life.  The first one ended in the mid-1990's and the second one started around 2000.  There were a few years in the late 1990's when I was single and romantically unattached.

During that period, my interest in motorcycles emerged and grew into a passion.  I rode all the time, met others who ride, and took numerous passengers for their first ride on a motorcycle.  Here a picture of me from back then.

During that period, I went to a festival of art-films.  I arrived by bike, which was obvious from my carrying a helmet, and a middle-aged woman approached me.  She asked me about my motorcycle; we talked about riding; she told me of her lifelong attraction to motorcycles and said she'd never been on one.  I gave her information and advice on how to get into the activity.  Later, I met her a few times for coffee and took her on a few short motorcycle-rides.  She seemed to enjoy them and I thought we were friends.

I didn't feel any romantic chemistry and assumed it wasn't there.

Later, we corresponded occasionally by e-mail.  I hadn't heard from her in a few years when she wrote me last week.  She said she'd gotten married, which I said was nice.  She said she'd written a memoir about her life; I said that was nice.  She mentioned that I am in her memoir.  I was surprised since I didn't know I'd played any kind of significant role in her life.  We are casual friends who went on a few motorcycle-rides and had lost touch over the years.

She sent me her memoir.  Oh, my...  In it, she confesses in great detail to an infatuation she had for me.  From our first meeting, she had feelings of intense romantic attraction.  I was completely unaware of those feelings.  I remember the particular events she describes but perceived them in a totally-different way.

Has this ever happened to you?  Is it possible for one person to secretly be attracted to another without the other person knowing it?

I'm not going to reveal any more about this woman, except to quote a portion of her memoir that concerns motorcycling.  She asked if I was okay with her publishing it and I said she can print anything she wants.  We're all entitled to our perceptions and should be free to express them to the world.  Here's what she wrote:


I asked Ralph to take me for a ride.  It was a clear, crisp day in the fall of 1997, I was soon to be 41.  I wore the closest things I had in my closet to what I though was biker babe gear: a Members Only leather jacket, flat, soft leather boots, and a leopard patterned scarf.  What was I thinking?! 

I met Ralph in the parking lot of his office.  He had an extra helmet, which was much bigger than my head.  He got on the bike, and I climbed on in back of him.  Climbing on was not that easy.  I’m short, plump and awkward, and I held tightly to his shoulders while I stepped on the peg and swung my leg over the seat.  It was all Ralph could do to keep the bike stable. 

We started out of the parking lot and my stomach dropped to the street; I had a moment of sheer terror.  As Ralph drove through town, my body became the wind or the wind became my body or maybe the wind just blew around my hair, but my body was having an out of body experience.  There is that moment after orgasm, usually a very short moment, when nothing matters, where your body has just melted into the mattress and only good exists in the world.   I melted into Ralph and the motorcycle seat and sniffed his leather jacket until the smell surrounded me. 

We stopped at a Starbucks for coffee, and so Ralph could check in to make sure I was all right.  I had no words, I was speechless, and I was overwhelmed by the experience.  We got back on the bike, rode around some more, and Ralph drove me back to the parking lot.  When he asked me again about my reaction, I said, I had a vibrating machine between my legs and I was wrapped around your body.  How bad could it be?  Over dinner, Ralph pressed me to be more specific about how riding the bike felt.  I tried to articulate my experience, but could find only the most trite expressions to describe how I felt: I was one with the universe, I felt an extraordinary sense of freedom, I was hooked.  The smell of leather and gasoline had become the most powerful aphrodisiacs I had ever experienced.

The Old Days

Things were different in the past.  Very different.

If you watch "Mad Men," the first thing you notice is that everyone smokes and drinks, all day long, even at work.  And housewives let their children play with plastic dry-cleaning bags.

Going further back in time, things are even odder.  Here are some old photos that depict actual events.  The first one shows something unusual -- a "knocker" doing his business.  A century ago, people didn't have alarm-clocks so they paid a knocker to walk past their home every morning and knock on their window to wake them up; otherwise they'd be late for work.  The other photos are self-explanatory.

Do you remember anything that used to happen that doesn't any more?