Down at the Crossroads...

This past weekend, Sheryl and I went to Eric Clapton's Crossroads Festival in Chicago. Sheryl is a big fan of Chi-town, and I had only been there once, so I was looking forward to her showing me around.

We left around 9am Friday, and headed straight down to the Navy Pier to catch the 2:00 architecture tour boat. Wow! What a rush! Sorry to sound like a geographic moron, but I never knew that a river ran through Chicago! And the views were amazing from the boat, too. Whew!

After dinner at Harry Caray's restaurant, we headed to the "hotel". And wow. Let me just say that the next time I want to find a place in the Chicago suburbs where I feel like I'm paying by the hour, I would definitely go back... not very likely.

But the reason for our visit was Saturday at Toyota Park. The night heralded loud thunderstorms, and the weather outlook for the day was constantly threatening. But the rain never came. The clouds barely came, and it was hotter than hell.

We got to the park shortly after noon, and the music had already started. I was so excited! We kept telling ourselves that it was a marathon, and not a sprint. We used a lot of sunscream, I had bought a floppy expeditionary hat to cover my ears and neck, and we had our sunglasses and ear-to-ear grins.

When we got to our seats, Robert Randolph had just started. Our seats were straight away across from the stage (imagine end zone to end zone at a football stadium), 4th row from the field.

After an awesome Robert Randolph set, we decided to look for shade. We found a bit, and consumed a lot of water. Robert Cray played with some special guests, and we wandered around a little, watching Sheryl Crow perform.

It was the first time I'd seen Ms. Crow perform, and I was very impressed. She was a definite highlight... but then, the day was still young.

I had been looking forward to seeing ZZ Top and John Mayer. I had heard that they were great performers, yet had never felt the urge to see either one. ZZ Top played rather early in the day - around 2pm. I was really impressed with them, although I'd probably never go spend money to see them again.

Again, we wandered around, and eventually made our way back to our seats to see John Mayer, and the rest of the performances. I had a feeling that John Mayer was going to be good when I heard his trio was rounded out with Stanley Jordan on drums and Pino Palladino on bass.

And they ROCKED!

What a nice surprise. I think that's what this event was about - to see people perform whom you wouldn't normally see. I think I'm a fan, although I will be careful not to fall for the pop-py crap they've played non-stop on pop radio.

Buddy Guy played some smoking blues with Jonny Lang and Ronnie Wood. Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks hosted a mega free-for-all that included the guys from Los Lobos, and Warren from the Allman Brothers. Then another big surprise - Johnny Winter came out to jam. Unfortunately, he played horribly. I was bummed.

Nonetheless, the fireworks were just starting. Easily one of my favorites - Jeff Beck performed flawlessly. He played a bunch of new songs that I had seen him play last week in Detroit. I was hoping he'd play "A Day in the Life" so Sheryl could see/hear it, but unfortunately for me, he chose to play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" instead. Sorry, I find that one a yawner. But he made up for it, playing "Rollin' and Tumblin", "Dirty Mind", and the Sly Stone song "Higher".

The man of the hour stepped up to the mic and plugged in after Beck. The sun had gone down, and although it was still hot, it was much more bearable.

Eric Clapton played a few songs, then introduced Jeff Beck who came out to play "Shake Your Moneymaker". Another snoozer in my book. But the night got better when Steve Winwood was introduced. Together, Clapton and Winwood played "It's Alright" and "Had to Cry Today" by Blind Faith.

By this time, I started to realize that if we stayed to the very end, we would be totally hosed trying to get out. Toyota Park was sold out, and 27,000 people would be heading to the gates at the same time. While Clapton and Winwood tore through an amazing "Voodoo Child" - the original slow, crushing version - I told Sheryl that I was ready to go whenever she was. We were torn by the parking situation, and Clapton being AMAZING. So as the jumped into "Cocaine", we made a beeline to the exit.

As we inched towards the car, I could hear the intro to "Dear Mr. Fantasy". Ugh!

We were exhausted, though. At 10pm, it had been a long, hot day. We were willing to give up the final hours-worth of performances. Besides... we were already planning to buy the DVD when it's released this fall!

Back at the shack, we choked down some 7-11 nachos and chicken tenders before diving into a deep deep sleep.

We were on the road home by 7am, and back at our house by 2:30. Home sweet home... a perfect coda to sweet home Chicago.

Dumela, Moyo!

Man, I don't know what it is, but this is becoming the best cycling season I've had in years! Although I'm not putting the long miles in that I used to, the miles I have been riding have been extremely enjoyable.

The rides that Sheryl and I are doing together have been great as well.

I wonder if I've just come to accept the pureness of a bike ride - the joy and child-like curiosity of human powered motion.

All I know is my heart - my corazon, my moyo - is full during and after every ride. I feel stronger and stronger, and find a ton of fun in riding the speed limit on 4th Street in Royal Oak (30 mph!).

Thank you, angels and divinities who make my bike rides so great. I feel whole again.

The Anatomy of a Name

 

I decided that it was time to name my "new" bike - which I've had for 2 1/2 years now.

 

You may or may not know, but my "old" bike's name is "Shtiya" - an Inuit phrase meaning "my strength". I chose an Inuit name because that was the bike that took me across Alaska in 2000.  I chose "Shtiya" because she was my strength and my drive when I needed it.

 

So the "new" bike has given me problems to this point - back problems, mechanical problems, etc., so prior to now, I really haven't ridden her long enough to name her.

 

As parents out there know, naming something - a child, perhaps - is hard work! Naming a "thing" versus a "who" is much easier, but still no real walk in the park.

 

I was gonna name the new bike "Ted". I'm not sure the reasoning right now, but it made sense at the time. But it just didn't FEEL right. This bike is more than a TED. And it is certainly a female.

 

So I stared at the bike for a while, and thought about how it made me feel. I thought about how I feel like a kid on her, and how everything feels right when I'm on that bike. I am SUPPOSED to be on that bike!

 

I looked around for some naming ideas, and knew it when I saw it:

 

CORAZON.

 

It means "heart" in Spanish. And the bike makes my heart beat with joy when I'm on her. Not only that, but when we partied after my cancer treatments, we partied with Corazon tequila. Which was fitting on so many levels.

 

I couldn't NOT call the bike Corazon. But... it didn't roll off the tongue as well as I'd like. And after all, what do I call her for short? Cora? Zone? Raz?

 

So I discussed it with some co-workers, and decided that I loved the concept of "corazon", but not the name.

 

This got one of my co-workers to do some research, and found the true new name.

 

"Heart" in Spanish is "Corazon". However, "heart" in Swahili is "Moyo".

 

Anti-climatic? No. Moyo is the perfect name, and when I say her name, it will remind me of my friend Nanky Seoke - an amazing woman I met from Botswana while riding across Montana. Nanky taught me a few words in Swahili, including "dumela!", or hello.

 

Dumela, Moyo. My heart is full.

Class

Sometimes - if you're lucky - you have a chance to do the right thing.

Much has been written and discussed regarding this weeks' near perfect game by the Detroit Tigers' Armando Galarraga. Much has been written and discussed regarding umpire Jim Joyce's blown call. But if you paid attention to the whole story, you will have noticed the undercurrent that flowed through it... class.

The city of Detroit gets no breaks. It's true, the city isn't an easy place to live in. Detroit receives potshots, but also gives potshots. It's a tough city.

But there is something that pops its head up now and again, and it often comes via sports...

Yes, Detroit has class.

Much has been said in past years regarding the Detroit Red Wings, and their captain Steve Yzerman. No one in Detroit would argue that the man oozes class. Current captain Niklas Lidstrom is the same way.

Sports give a city a chance to show its' class. Armando Galarraga and Jim Leyland showed a ton of class when Galarraga's perfect game was stolen from him. Did they whine and bitch and moan like we see so many times today in sports?

No. They were disappointed, yes, but they recognized something that we tend to forget about.

We're human. We make mistakes.

Over the last few years, the city of Detroit has been taking it on the chin. This week, the Detroit Tigers had a chance to do the right thing. They had a chance to take the national limelight and show the city's mettle. And they shone like the sun.

If I ever have the chance to do the right thing, I pray that I can show the class that Galarraga, Leyland, and Jim Joyce did.

If the limelight shines your way, how will you act?