Tuesday, August 23, 2011

My first real earthquake

I was sitting on the ground floor of my office building in Reston, Va., today when the earthquake hit. Even though I had never experienced a significant earthquake, I figured within seconds that what was shaking the building had to be a quake. Nothing else I could think of would move a large building in that manner. Fearing the above floors might pancake down, I left my office quickly and stood outside on the edge of the parking lot with coworkers. By then, it was over.

Despite it being a weird and somewhat frightful experience, it wasn't nearly as bad as the media and those being interviewed are portraying. And I was just an hour's drive from the epicenter, so the intensity was about as strong as anywhere. The D.C.-metro area tends to overreact to everything from minor snow storms to quarterback controversies.

Today's quake was more interesting than scary, not that I'd want to experience that on a regular basis. I found it strangely reassuring that the earth still reminds us every once in a while that we aren't the masters of the universe.

Mediocre QBs can still win in the NFL

Professional football fans like to point to Trent Dilfer as the one exception of a mediocre quarterback who led his team, the Baltimore Ravens, to a Super Bowl.

Of course, there have been other average-at-best quarterbacks who have taken their teams to the big game, which gives teams like the Washington Redskins some hope this season.

The 'Skins have two quarterbacks, John Beck and Rex Grossman, competing for the starting job this year. Neither is highly regarded by fans or forecasters. But that could change if Beck or Grossman get Washington to the playoffs.

Most people believe that to win in the NFL these days you have to have an above-average quarterback. Recent history would support that theory to a degree. Yet, I can't help think about some of the teams of the past and how they were pretty darn good, even without star quarterbacks.

David Woodley (picture above) took the Miami Dolphins to the Super Bowl in the 1982 season. The Dolphins lost the game but nonetheless got there with a quarterback who I bet most of you under 40 years old never heard of before. Woodley was the Miami quarterback prior to Dan Marino. Marino, who many regard as one of the best QBs of all time, also went to a Super Bowl once, and lost just like Woodley. It was Marino's only trip to the title game, mostly because his Dolphin teams had no defense or running game. Marino was a star without a supporting cast.

I liked Woodley as a person more than Marino. I interviewed him many times in Miami. He was a quiet and modest guy, unlike many other NFL quarterbacks. His life came to a tragic end after his brief football career, but Woodley was certainly a winner while on the field -- mobile like Beck and a gamer like Grossman. Didn't have the arm of Marino but made the most of what he did possess.

So cheer up Redskin fans. Your quarterback situation might not be as bad as you think. As with that 1982 Dolphin team, it's the rest of the players who will need to contribute to a winning effort in D.C. this fall. So far, after a 2-0 start in the preseason, the supporting cast on offense and defense (both ranked No. 1) looks much improved.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Dreaming of mini bikes, freedom

Until I stumbled upon this website, I assumed mini bikes were a thing of the past.

They're not.

They are now called "old school" mini bikes, but they look essentially the same as the one you see me sitting on here in the late 1960s. Mine consisted of a lawnmower engine mounted to a crudely welded steel frame (that often cracked and had to be re-welded). No shock absorbers. No lights, horns or turning signals. Small wheels. Questionable brakes. And a very hot muffler.

In terms of safety, a mini bike was an amazingly dangerous vehicle. But these tiny motorcycles also provided the first taste of freedom for many kids my age in that era. You could go farther and faster on a mini bike than on a bicycle. In a pre-Internet, pre-virtual reality time, this was a way to see the world -- or at least the world beyond my school and backyard. There was a bit of an anti-establishment vibe to riding a mini bike, too, which was appealing to anyone over 10 and under 30 years old in the rebellious 60s.

Like other kids, I went everywhere on my mini bike, whether it was legal or not. Cops would chase us. Parents would freak out if they learned about our cruising down Sunrise Highway or along residential streets where adults would wave their arms at us in anger. But we had a blast and weren't confined to the new cookie-cutter neighborhoods that sterilized life on Long Island. For less than 50 cents worth of gas, any day could be turned into the ultimate adventure and escape from whatever we needed to escape from. Regardless of age or circumstances, we all need an escape at times.

The only other material object that I can recall being as cool as a mini bike was an electric guitar. And, in a different way, the electric guitar also represented freedom.

To this day, nothing remains more symbolically cool in my mind than a motorcycle or guitar. A motorcycle can physically transport you in a way that a car, plane or train can't. Its engine rumbling as the wind blows against your face creates quite a feeling -- one that can't be simulated on a computer. Strumming a guitar can also transport me to a good place, particularly if shared with the right people or audience.

Playing music and riding motorcycles can be solitary or group activities, though I suspect doing either is better with people you enjoy being around.

Even though I no longer ride motorcycles of any kind, I am always looking at them -- gazing like I am staring into the past or longing for more freedom in the present -- examining color and chrome. Wanting to reconnect to something that even my guitar doesn't totally allow me to recapture these days.

While the digital age has provided an array of new toys and opportunities, I would gladly turn in my laptop for a Harley and a chance to play music in a dive bar or two a couple times a week with friends. I'd blissfully turn off CNN for a chance to strap a six-string to the back of a motorcycle. I would never give the debt ceiling or politics another thought.

These are the dreams of that kid sitting on that mini bike in the picture above. Dreams of freedom and simple pleasures, not of bills, deteriorating news and colonoscopies. Dreams and desires that settle the soul and ignite the spirt, and that become strangely more vivid as time passes all too quickly.