The holidays are upon us, and no matter what God you indulge (if at all), it’s the time of year when we give gifts to one another.
Gift giving is a challenge: sizing up your friend or family member, battling crowds, wrapping, delivering, hoping you got the right thing.
One way to avoid this debacle is to donate to your favorite charity in someone’s name. Close to my heart is World Bicycle Relief. They provide access to independence and livelihood through the power of bikes.
A cyclocross racing friend from Chicago, Chris Strout, works there. And at his blog you can see his take on Africa and even witness the bike distribution. There’s even more at the WBR blog.
This group is all class, so think of them if you go the charity route. At $109 per bike (you can donate less or more, natch), this could be the best money you spend all year.
As a kid I was always amazed at the nicknames and terms that my dad and Grandpa Doyle would come up with. “Old Witch Monkey” was the imaginative faux ghoul who frightened the kids on vacation. “Your ass is getting pretty high up there” was a fond term for our growth.
“Senator”. “Cow Balls”. “Captain She Dog”. “The seed”. Who thinks of these names?
Apparently the Irish. And as my first license plate frame said, “God made the Irish No. 1″ (thanks, mom!).
On this Veterans Day I’d like to wish peace to all who’ve served, are serving or will some day serve. I understand the importance of a fine-tuned military machine and I appreciate your service with all of my heart.
Like most Americans, I have close family members have served, and I know a few people who were (or are) overseas right now.
My friend Sidera’s dad wrote a decent piece for this day. I don’t agree with it 100% (and you can tell that he didn’t enjoy being part of the machine during Vietnam), but I appreciate his freedom of speech.
