Why So Quiet?

If you have wondered what I've been doing lately given the silence on this blog, check out marioaonbike.com.

Techageddon?

I love my smartphone and I'd be lost without it if I should lose it. For a while at least. It'll take a little while to buy paper maps, an address book, an old fashioned cell phone, an alarm clock, a camera, a calculator, a radio, and all the other items it has replaced. Especially while traveling or driving to and through places I've never been to. One phone instead of tons of maps and guides and books and note books where all the places and hotels and phone numbers are written on. Not to mention all the cassette tapes to bring to be able to listen to the same amount of music. Dictionaries, lexicons, phone books and yellow pages, etc. All of that would make packing for a motorcycle trip or any trip for that matter way more challenging than it already is.

Technology has made our lives so much easier and more efficient. And I'm German. And an economist. I like efficiency. And I've been known to spend too much time with my phone. I love being able to read a number of different books at the same time, anywhere I go and to get any book I want in seconds. Having a notepad with me to write down anything that needs to be kept. And being able to stay in close contact with my friends in different countries and my family. And I am lucky (?) to have lived in a time where I was able to witness a technical revolution and an incredible amount of progress during my lifetime.

But I also worked in technology and know how complicated and fragile it is. And mostly controlled by very logical, oftentimes brilliant people who are borderline autistic and not seldom lack empathy. And I am very familiar with what happened in Germany before and during and in Eastern Germany after the Second World War. Whatever other people know about you can be used against you. Naked photos you shared with that guy you loved and you thought would never do anything to hurt you. That silly comment about a certain politician with really bad hair. You being open about your beliefs or sexual orientation. The government or person who are benevolent towards you today might not be so tomorrow. And while you can destroy a photo and all its copies as well as its negative, anything that is on you phone, computer or online can never be completely deleted. Even if you have all the technical skills to do it on your computer, you do not know who might have downloaded a copy, taken a screenshot, or otherwise had access to it. It's nothing like burning the photos of you ass you don't want anyone to see.

Big Brother is already here. And the robots, too. Anyone who doesn't see anything wrong with making everything about us available online, arguing how amazing it would be if you phone could tell you what to eat or where to go or who to talk to, etc., has lost the scepticism required to handle the technological advancements and is lacking some core human skills. It's all about automation and while I can see the benefits, I'm scared and concerned given the lack of empathy and acknowledgment of the dangers at hand by people with the technical expertise and the power.

I remember reading Huxley and Orwell in school and I'm amazed by how right they were. And I understand people's fear of the machines taking over. But to be honest, they have taken over already. Machines in human bodies. Page, Zuckerberg and the likes. With a total lack of comprehension why people shouldn't share everything about them with machines and the people who can access them. Why organizing the world's information and making it universally accessible and useful to make our lives easier could go terribly wrong if that information will get into the wrong hands. Anyone who has had their identity stolen or has been stalked will confirm that.

Technology is amazing and has made our lives so easy. But it's also complicated and not everyone who understands it can explain it to people who don't. To people who put their life online and accept any T&Cs without reading because it'll require a law AND a computer science degree to understand them. I do know that some tech companies try to make it easier to understand what will happen to all your data and what data you're sharing with whom and how. But having worked in a position where I had to explain complex things to people white little or less time I can say that people don't read most of these explanations. And they enjoy every single "like" they get for their silly cat selfies or smart comments. And the law hasn't caught up with technology. How could it? The people who could write it have crazily paid jobs at one of the tech companies and are therefore highly biased. While the politicians in charge of information technology still print out the Internet every morning...

I truly hope that I'm just old fashioned and overly concerned. I'm not clinging to the past but I'm glad to have the comparison. Of living in a world that was much lower tech than now. Of knowing how good a hug feels or the sound of a beloved voice through the phone vs. some letters and emoticons on a screen. My 11 year old niece sends voice recordings instead of texts which does give me some hope. And I'd love to work in a field where I can help mediating between non-the and tech people. Help to avoid the full automation and techisation of our world. And maybe this little piece can help with that, too.

The Coast

One star after another appears and marks the end of another day and the start of another night. Where we are it is going to be a dark, quiet and very starry night. So many stars. But yet, still far away from a really dark night because we're too close to civilization and artificial light hides many of the stars that would be visible in absolute darkness.  

The ocean is getting quieter. As if it was preparing to go to sleep as well. I'm well aware that a day like today is not a usual day in this place. Weather on the Pacific Coast is unpredictable. Anything from bikini to down jacket weather. Even in the same month or week. But beautiful every time. I can understand how weeks and weeks of fog can cause depression. But at the same time, this coast is still this coast and the ocean still this beautiful beast and there's something to love and admire every single day. Life can't be bad here. It just can't. One look at the surf and you're cured of every bad thought that might have been bugging you. I don't know how people cannot be emotionally affected by this.

This morning I went for a run. I didn't feel like running and I had been lazy for weeks. But then I went. And I got hit by stunning views and my responding emotions. An indescribable happiness to be able to be right here at this very moment. Be able to witness how the morning mist covered the meadows and left moisture on the blindingly pink flowers that covered so much of the ground. Feel the morning sun on my skin that was busy burning away that morning mist and was just warm enough to not make me feel too hot on the run. No one I ran past or encountered looked angry or depressed. I saw only happy faces. And can still see the look on the face of the husky mix I met on the beach. He was just so happy to run along that beach and dip into the water. I knew exactly how he felt.

I wish it was possible to bottle up moments and views and smells like this for bad times. I'm always overwhelmed by the force of my feelings in situations and places like this and while my words can't even begin to describe what goes on in my heart and mind then it can at least provide a reminder for me to go back to this moment during times when I feel less fortunate. 

The Rocking Horse

There a not a lot of possessions I have that I could not leave behind and give up. One of the items, though, that I would rescue out of a burning house without thinking much about it is my wooden rocking horse. When I mention that to people or when they see it first when they come into the apartment, they usually laugh and think it's a silly thing to hold on to or have in your apartment. But there's so much more to this horse than it being a pretty and decorative piece of furniture or an old childhood toy.

On Christmas Eve when I was five years old, my brother and I had already unpacked our presents and started playing when my father asked me if I hadn't missed one present. I looked up and around the room and then my eyes widened. There was a wooden rocking horse hidden behind the drapes that I  hadn't seen before. "For me?" I asked and ran towards it. For the rest of the night and most of the following years it would be my favorite toy in the world. From cowboy, stagecoach, to circus or just a girl and its horse roaming freely around the world, there was no limit to my imagination when it came to games involving the horse. Latter, girl and horse riding through a wide and open country, was my favorite and I'm incredibly happy that I am, indeed, going to travel freely across the US. I just replaced the horse with a motorcycle. Same color, though... 

The horse and I have been through a lot. Yet, apart from a few tiny scratches it looks almost as good as it did when I got it, 36 years ago. That's one of the reasons why I love this horse. The main reason, however, is that my father built it. He spent countless hours, evenings, weekends in his workshop in the basement, sawing, gluing, filing, constantly concerned that I might walk in and spoil the surprise. While the monetary value of the plywood and glue he used was probably just a few bucks, for me it's invaluable and I would never give it up, no matter the price. Every time I look at it, I can see my father standing in his workshop, sawing, gluing, and filing away. And while he did that he imagined my reaction. My eyes lighting up when I would first see the horse (I still feel bad that I missed it at first), my smile and laughter when I played with it (though I don't think he expected the actual extend of my love for this horse). Now that I am older, I see much more than just his beautiful work of art. I can see his boundless love for me that he wasn't that good at expressing in words. But he sure did an excellent job expressing it with all the work he put into the horse. Ever single time I look at it, I feel all fuzzy and warm and loved. Very much loved.

Being A Woman - Continued

• You get to pay student price (being 35) for a 4th row ticket at the Scala, "Just because you're here".
• You can wear dresses (granted, men can do that, too, but it might take a while until that will be socially accepted).
• You can make yourself several inches taller by putting on a pair of awesome heels.
• Orgasms, multiple and many, whenever you want.
• You and your girlfriends get to park in the VIP parking section of a club just because you smilingly convinced the bouncer that you were "The cleaners".
• You don't constantly have to prove that you have the longest and biggest of all the women in the same room.
• You get to see and play with boobs whenever you want.
• You can not only have emotions but also show them freely without anyone calling you a wimp.
• Just your mere presence can make a man confuse the sun with the moon.
• You can be 100% sure that your child is actually your child.
• You can grow a person inside your body.
• You have an insanely high pain threshold.
• You can get out of pretty much everything with the help of your period. Except having your period, I guess.
• You only look half as silly as men in biker shorts.
• Did I mention orgasms?

Squirrels

Sunday morning I went on a motorcycle ride. The weather was perfect. Clear air, not too warm, not too cold. The roads were dry despite the early morning. The sky was a perfect blue and everything looked clean and lush due to the recent rain.

As I was house sitting my friend's place in the hills above Redwood City, it took me less than 5 minutes to get to I84, a lovely windy road up towards Skyline Boulevard and then down to Pacific Coast Highway. Oftentimes, when I take this road, it is very warm or even hot on the east side of the mountain and it gets a lot colder the closer I get to the ocean on the western side. But this time, it was just perfect.

I made it all the way down to the ocean, let a few impatient riders pass who couldn't wait behind slower cars but had to pass them despite the curvy road and the double line, covered with those plastic, slippery reflector thingies, that are very useful in the dark but can kill a rider so easily.

A few miles south I turned into Pescadero Road to ride back up again. At one point further up in the forrest, I rode behind a big pick up truck that had slowed down, probably in order to turn into one of the smaller dirt roads ahead. So I was pretty close behind him in anticipation of passing him once he would be gone. Then I saw a squirrel on the right side of the road, running quickly, trying to cross the road. It ran directly under the truck and made it safely past the front wheel. But then something must have happened that made him change his mind and turn around to run back to where it came from. Either the realization that it was being driven over by a car or maybe the front tire did touch his tail. So it tried to escape, turned around to run back to the side of the road and ended up in front of the rear tire... It got run over, thrown in to the air and landed on the road, right beside me. Dead. Well, I hope it was a fast death.

I know it was just a tiny squirrel. But it just died. One moment it squirreled across the road and the other it's just another piece of road kill that people drive by. But I was shocked and sad. To see the life get smashed out of the tiny creature in an instant. And I realized that, thankfully, I have never had to see anyone die like that right in front of me. Or anyone die, for that matter. Given my level of empathy, that's a good thing. I mean, I even cried a little for Mr. Squirrel who just wanted to cross the road on a warm sunny spring morning.

Now, a friend of mine told me that the squirrel just did what it was used to do in dangerous situations: it zig zagged to get away from the danger. Instead of holding still until the car was gone (admittedly, that could have had dangerous results for me if I hadn't been able to avoid it. Slipping on a squirrel is not something I ever want to experience while riding my bike) or just keep running to get away. Although latter could have resulted in him being run over by the other rear tire.

This instinctive behavior when feeling threatened and how hard it must be to adjust it made me think of humans. For example the US Americans, whose idiosyncracies I am really trying to understand but I'm having a hard time doing so. Like the need to carry a gun or the aversion to anything that sounds like socialism. But when I look at them like I look at the squirrel, I begin to understand them. Like the zig zagging, those things result from hundreds of years of history and experiences, like entering a country they've never been to before and know nothing about. They didn't know what you might find around the next corner or behind the next rock. A giant buffalo, a rattlesnake, a mountain lion, or something even bigger and crazier? If you wanted to survive, you'd better make sure to have something to defend yourself with. Like a gun.

I know there a lot more reasons why there is a constitutional right to carry a gun. But sometimes, zig zagging will kill you and it makes sense to just hold still and see what happens. Most of the time, the situation will not require you to shoot or bomb anyone and you'll come out save on the other side. But it will take a while to change this instinctive behavior to something more appropriate for the situation at hand.

It's too late for Mr Squirrel, RIP little friend. Let's hope it's not too late for us humans.

Way Too Dangerous

This Blogpost is definitely a very selfish one. I’ve had this conversation so many times that I just find it easier to send people to a website that answers their question. It’s a little bit like work used to be. I rather invested a few hours in creating a training video than having to answer the same question over and over and over again.

So, why do I continue to ride a motorcycle. Even though it’s so incredibly dangerous?

Every few seconds, a motorcyclist dies or is injured badly. Motorcyclist are incredibly vulnerable, and get easily missed by other drivers and are just the weaker party when it comes to collisions with other motorized vehicles in traffic. And still, I continue to ride my motorcycle.

It’s true, I am vulnerable. The helmet, the gloves, jacket and padded pants that make women’s heads turn when I ride past (that jacket has a way of pressing your boobs into your chest…) are the only things between me and the tarmac. Car drivers are usually busy doing other things than actually driving the car. Such as reading, listening to the radio, texting, checking Google Maps for the route, talk on the phone, sleep, eat, smoke, etc. And in the US, they don’t even have gone through proper driving school. Not every country makes his citizens pay thousands of dollars to allow them to drive a car and potentially be able to kill pedestrians and other motorized vehicle drivers… Admittedly, they’re often much nicer and considerate. IF they actually see you…

And still, despite all the dangers, the 98% probability of getting killed or seriously injured, and the clothes that make my broad shoulders even broader and the big ass even bigger, despite all that I will continue to ride my motorcycle.

When I have managed to put on all the gear, pants, boots, jacket, gloves, and helmet, the bike warm enough to not stall at the next traffic light, when it purrs and vibrates and feels like she can wait to get on the freeway to let off steam, when she reacts to every single one of my moves, leans into curves, accelerates easily within seconds, seems to jump a little like a carefree wild bronco, and sprints along the Californian Highways as if she never did anything else. There is not a lot in this life that makes me happier. And I feel that the same is true for her. As silly as that might sounds, but it’s easy to see what kind of roads she likes. She doesn’t like driving through the city where you have to stop at each traffic light. She loves curvy highways with fast, straight parts. She loves to ride fast on the freeway. Why 100mph is not fast for her. However, for me it is. Given the lack of driving skills and the amount of traffic here in the Bay Area.

But there are so many roads in California, besides the freeway that are just meant for motorcycle riding and where you don’t see a car in hours. Every now and then you see a deer, a squirrel, and a lot of insects. But no car. The most dangerous thing, apart from the curvy road, is the breathtaking nature. You shouldn’t turn your head too often or too long for gorgeous, majestic redwoods or the sight of the beautiful Pacific that makes your eyes well up. No, keep your eyes on the road!

This is another reason why I love to ride a motorcycle. When I ride I don’t think of anything else but the road and the bike. There’s no room. Every, even a little distraction can have lethal consequences. Therefore it’s like Yoga, meditation, or wake boarding. Full concentration. No room to think of work or anything else happening in my life right now. Road, cars, deer, bike. Nothing else.