Notes from Steve
I told my friend I feel like a whirling dervish - busy and spinning out of control. Not really “out of control” … I know what I’m doing; it just feels like a lot. However, this is a matter of perspective; busy to me isn’t busy to you or anybody else. I look at moms who work and juggle all the plates and do all the stuff. Those people are the real heroes of life - they are the true whirling dervishes of the world. GO MOMS!!!
I did this charity ride over the weekend, and one of the stops was at a brewery in Clive. A fellow rider got a hard cider that they make there, and I think it went bad. I said (too loud) that it tasted like vomit and made people try it (so as to validate my perspective). They agreed, and we had a spirited discussion. I then looked to my right and discovered a table of horrified people (who heard me) drinking the same cider.*
I think I probably do this too often - state my position as if it’s right. I guess someone could have said it didn’t taste like vomit, but no one did. Maybe they didn’t want to disappoint me. Someone was talking the other day about how their parents would tell them wild, made-up stories when they were kids, and they believed them 100%. They laughed about it now and said they do the same to their kids. (Grandpa Willer used to tell the grandkids that a monkey lived in the barn, and we completely believed him.)
Truly, it’s amazing that we came out of childhood with any trust whatsoever.
*In my mind, I did them a favor. It was not right. Cider shouldn’t taste like this.