You can read my interview with Álvaro Pachón (which does not include this incident) here.
By the way, it's worth mentioning that the climb where this incident took place (called Letras) is over 50 miles long if you go up the whole way. It rises from 600 to 3,600 meters in elevation.
By the way, it's worth mentioning that the climb where this incident took place (called Letras) is over 50 miles long if you go up the whole way. It rises from 600 to 3,600 meters in elevation.
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Off topic:
Today in the United States, we are celebrating Thanksgiving Day. Having not grown up with this holiday, the whole thing is absolutely meaningless to me. Come to think of it, even the holidays I grew up with are largely meaningless to me as well. I do have one memory of Thanksgiving, which I think about often around this time of year. Allow me to share it with you.
After two years of living in the United States, my father, a mechanical engineer who spoke multiple languages, was still unable to find work aside from packing eggs, and doing hard labor at a coal sorting facility. He did both jobs with pride, but struggled with the fact that he didn't make enough to feed our family of five. Not even close. Our savings were depleted, and things were getting worse...particularly for my parents.
Two years into this situation, we found ourselves living in a two bedroom apartment with another family. Twelve of us lived there (something I've mentioned before on the blog). Times were tough.
My aunt decided to host a Thanksgiving dinner that year, to which she invited us and other members of our family. No one in my immediate family wanted to attend, my parents included. Our collective mood was at an all-time low, and since the holiday meant nothing to us, we'd much rather sit and stare at a wall somewhere than attend. But my aunt wouldn't take "no" for an answer.
As we sat down to eat, all the adults were given a chance to say what they were thankful for. Some spoke of sizable bonuses at work, new homes, cars and trips. When it was my father's turn, he said he'd rather pass, and told my elder cousin to continue. My aunt said he was not allowed to pass, "you have to be thankful for something", she said in an accusatory tone.
My father declined again, but she wouldn't let it go. He was clearly not in the mood. None of us were. He took a deep breath, and in a determined but solemn tone said,
"I'm thankful for the fact that I can't afford to feed my family, or pay for us to have a place to live. Amen." He looked at my aunt, "Are you happy now?"
The room got quiet. And in that moment, father became a bit of a hero to me. Perhaps that speaks to my rather dark sensibilities, but I nodded in approval.
Off topic:
Today in the United States, we are celebrating Thanksgiving Day. Having not grown up with this holiday, the whole thing is absolutely meaningless to me. Come to think of it, even the holidays I grew up with are largely meaningless to me as well. I do have one memory of Thanksgiving, which I think about often around this time of year. Allow me to share it with you.
After two years of living in the United States, my father, a mechanical engineer who spoke multiple languages, was still unable to find work aside from packing eggs, and doing hard labor at a coal sorting facility. He did both jobs with pride, but struggled with the fact that he didn't make enough to feed our family of five. Not even close. Our savings were depleted, and things were getting worse...particularly for my parents.
Two years into this situation, we found ourselves living in a two bedroom apartment with another family. Twelve of us lived there (something I've mentioned before on the blog). Times were tough.
My aunt decided to host a Thanksgiving dinner that year, to which she invited us and other members of our family. No one in my immediate family wanted to attend, my parents included. Our collective mood was at an all-time low, and since the holiday meant nothing to us, we'd much rather sit and stare at a wall somewhere than attend. But my aunt wouldn't take "no" for an answer.
As we sat down to eat, all the adults were given a chance to say what they were thankful for. Some spoke of sizable bonuses at work, new homes, cars and trips. When it was my father's turn, he said he'd rather pass, and told my elder cousin to continue. My aunt said he was not allowed to pass, "you have to be thankful for something", she said in an accusatory tone.
My father declined again, but she wouldn't let it go. He was clearly not in the mood. None of us were. He took a deep breath, and in a determined but solemn tone said,
"I'm thankful for the fact that I can't afford to feed my family, or pay for us to have a place to live. Amen." He looked at my aunt, "Are you happy now?"
The room got quiet. And in that moment, father became a bit of a hero to me. Perhaps that speaks to my rather dark sensibilities, but I nodded in approval.
Klaus;
ReplyDeletesomething that i am thankful for today is that there are people like you- unabashedly telling it like it is (or was). thank you.
i hope that you and you family have a great day together, and maybe tomorrow you get to go for a nice ride as well.
remember, it's not "black friday" as the mainstream media would have us believe (really just an excuse for over-the-top consumerism as a dessert after the day of gluttony), but in fact, it is actually "buy nothing day".
best, dave
Dave,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for the kind words. It means a whole lot to read such a thing.
As for tomorrow being buy nothing day, I think the hundred or so people I saw camping outside Best Buy didn't get the memo. I'll be riding by them tomorrow morning though, I'll let them know for sure!
There are moments in life when people with the best of intentions need a big slice of humble pie to remember how to pay attention.
ReplyDeleteHats off to your father.
Outstanding.
Thankstaking is a weird day.
I don't think I've ever liked it.
Keep up the good work puddles!
Thanks for sharing this. Very humbling indeed...
ReplyDeleteOn my ride to work, which takes me through SoHo in NYC, this morning, there was tons of shoppers - already with plenty of shopping bags at 8:30 in the morning!! And most of them seemed to be in their teens or early 20s. Very weird...
Powerful.
ReplyDeleteThanks.
Jim x 7
ReplyDeleteIs "puddles" my new nickname? Is it because of that one that that I peed my pants when I was 7, running back to my house after going to a friends house to borrow a board name whose name I can't recall?