Tonight the world watched as Marti rode a bicycle down the length of the San Clemente pier and back, or so it seemed. Birthday girl in her long black dress and heels. In 37 years of marriage, I can’t ever remember her on a bike. It took a dare from Chandler to get her up and I must say, she did it and she looked great. All the way to the end of the pier, dodging old fishermen and tourists and back again with hair flying and bright eyes. The rest of us were dumbfounded, snapping pictures, trying to make sure this rare moment was documented. And it was a big bike, too. The old style beach cruiser with fat tires and fenders and wide, swooping handlebars.
They say that once you learn how to ride a bike, you never forget. Marti took a big chance proving it in front of lots of people and a popular seafood restaurant.
Walking in the Spirit is like riding a bike. Once you learn how to do it, you never forget. You do have to get up and get going, however. You have to believe that the power and the presence are there. You have to trust the bike. And I do have to say: once you get going, it’s a beautiful sight to see.






Giving Thanks for all the migrant farm workers in the United States especially after Alabama passed a sinful law against the immigrant, whether legal or illegal:
“Pastures of Plenty” by Woody Guthrie
1. It’s a mighty hard row my poor hands have hoed
My poor feet have travelled this hot dusty road
Out of your dustbowl and westward we roam
Through deserts so hot and through mountains so cold
2. I’ve wandered all over your green, growing land
Wherever your crops are, I’ll lend you my hand
On the edge of your cities, you’ll see me and then
I come with the dust and I’m gone with the wind
3. California, Arizona, I’ve worked on your crops
And northward up to Oregon to gather your hops
I’ve dug beets from the ground, I’ve cut grapes from the vine
To set at your table that white sparkling wine
4. Green pastures of plenty from the dry desert ground
From the grand Coolie dam where the waters run down
In every state of this union we migrants have been
We work on the land and we’ll fight until we win
5. It’s always we ramble, that river and I
All along your green valleys I’ll work ’til I die
Travel this road until death sets me free
‘Cause pastures of plenty must always be free
As I read John Fischer’s Catch today, I was reminded of Bob Seger’s “Night Moves:”
1. I was a little too tall
Could’ve used a few pounds
Tight pants points hardly reknown
She was a black haired beauty with big dark eyes
And points all her own sitting way up high
Way up firm and high
Chorus: In the sweet summertime
We weren’t in love oh no far from it
We weren’t searching for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
2. Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy
Out in the back seat of my ’60 Chevy
Workin’ on mysteries without any clues
Workin’ on our night moves
Trying’ to make some front page drive-in news
Workin’ on our night moves in the summertime
Chorus: In the sweet summertime
We weren’t in love oh no far from it
We weren’t searching for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
3. Living by the sword
And we’d steal away every chance we could
To the backroom, the alley, the trusty woods
I used her she used me
But neither one cared
We were getting our share
Chorus: In the sweet summertime
We weren’t in love oh no far from it
We weren’t searching for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
4. Workin’ on our night moves
Trying to lose the awkward teenage blues
Workin’ on out night moves
In the summertime
And oh the wonder
Felt the lightning
And we waited on the thunder
Waited on the thunder
Chorus: In the sweet summertime
We weren’t in love oh no far from it
We weren’t searching for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
5. I woke last night to the sound of thunder
How far off I sat and wondered
Started humming a song from 1962
Ain’t it funny how the night moves
When you just don’t seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in
Chorus: In the sweet summertime
We weren’t in love oh no far from it
We weren’t searching for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored