A Tree Falling in the Forest

Yesterday afternoon Gagknee and his family stopped by for some coffee and pie. As MLW and Gagknee's Wifey descended into wife related conversation, Gagknee and I went out to the garage to visit with our respective ATVs. Earlier in the day, I had my machine apart to adjust the valves. Proud of my efforts, I decided to test start it to demonstrate my mechanical prowess. My delusions of grandeur were shattered as soon as the engine fired. CLICKETY, CLICKETY, CLICKETY. It sounded like a bunch of marbles in a blender. Embarrassed, I shut the machine off and started to wonder what I did wrong.

Later, after the Gagknee's went home to watch the BoSox beat the Injins, I went back out to the garage and tore my machine back apart. It didn't take long to realize that I had adjusted the valves with the cam between the exhaust and intake stroke rather than between the compression and power stroke. Or, as they say... the cam was 180 degrees out.

Oh well. Sometimes you learn valuable lessons by making mistakes.

I've been thinking about parables, partly because our Sunday School class is studying the book of Matthew, partly because I just like thinking about parables. I use analogies a lot to help me understand stuff.

Tonight OBB reminded me of the truth of one of Jesus' parables. He was sitting in his highchair as MLW and I enjoyed small talk and dinner. He had already eaten a ton of food... including his new found favorite... smoked sausage, so he was playing with three Hot Wheels fire trucks. He accidentally rolled one off the edge and onto the floor. I said, "Well, that's it for that one, but you still have two."

OBB was not content with the two that remained. He stretched and groaned seeking the one that was lost. So, I had to stop eating and gabbing long enough to crawl under the table, past the dog, to retrieve it. When it was safely returned, he went on herding his little trucks.

It's been a while since I last went to a concert. If memory serves it's been about 8 years since I saw the Dave Matthews Band in Virginia Beach. I remember it well. I also remember leaving my work cellphone in my truck because it wouldn't fit in my pocket. When it comes to cellphones a lot has changed.

This weekend I served as an announcer for an evening show at a Boy Scout Encampment. Picture about 7000 Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, parents, and such sitting in the dark in a field watching singers and dancers and comedians. In spite of my contributions, the show was pretty professional and well done. Anyways... I should get to the point. Apparently, nowadays, instead of waving a lighter in the air in the darkness to show your appreciation to a performer you wave your open cellphone in the air. Even with the rather young audience, there were hundreds of cellphones waving in the darkness. It was pretty cool looking, more so than a bunch of lighters. But I couldn't help feeling a bit like an old man. The only thing I use my cellphone light for is to check on my sleeping child before I go to bed.

MLW, OBB and I went to the State Fair of Virginia yesterday. Growing up I frequented fairs with my family. Fryburg, ME; Acton, ME; Rochester, NH... those were the three I remember going to the most. And I have been going to the State Fair of Virginia for the last half dozen years or so.

First, I am not sure why they call it the State Fair of Virginia. True Virginians only refer to Virginia as a Commonwealth, never a state.

Setting that aside, it should have to earn the title of State Fair. As fairs go, it does not live up to its "State" moniker. I would put it on par with the aforementioned Rochester Fair, which is to say it is the Ford Escort of fairs.

There is just not enough to do and see. Not enough competitions, not enough giant vegetables, not enough demonstrations of tractors and agricultural what-not, and not enough interactive activities. Even the Rochester Fair had horse and tractor pulls, but not the "State Fair of Virginia."

There were plenty of food vendors and lots of crazy crap to buy, but really how many wooden roses or airbrushed tattoos do you really need. I am little bitter because my once-a-year fried dough tasted like an old pizza box. The whole deal is too commercial and generic.

But, I am not giving up hope nor I am giving up on my adopted Commonwealth's State Fair. My solution to the State Fair doldrums? An ATV rodeo. Not a race per se, but rather a test of riding skills in timed competitions for everyday riders with everyday machines. It would be a start.

They have to do something, otherwise its just going to devolve into a crappy flea market.