My Bike is Blue.

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By Gerry Wendel, Groovy Reflections Founder and Team Member

Standing on the edge of the country club grounds, I took a quick look around. No one was in sight. Slinking towards a grouping of bushes near a small patch of woods, looking down, I found my prize. Well, prizes. Lots of them. Seven slightly used golf balls, lost by their original owner. Bending down quickly, I picked them up in one fell swoop. Yeah! Ran back to my bike, tossed those orbs into the front basket, and sped off with the Paul Mauriat instrument “Love is Blue” buzzing in my head.

I was temporarily living 800 miles away from home at the time. (the “why” is perhaps another story to be told at a later date), in a part of the country where my accent made me different, so much so that some of the other kids were inclined to call me “Yankee”. A part of the country where a mere “yes” in response to a question was unacceptable. “Yes ma’am” soon became the mandatory phrase I learned to say when answering to and respecting an adult.

And those golf balls? They served as tools in Entrepreneurship 101 for me as I attempted to sell them to locals frequenting a nearby park. That initial enterprise netted me about $2.40 until one day two teenage boys grabbed big handfuls of my inventory from my bicycle basket and ran off with them.

That bicycle provided brisk transportation for exploring a whole new area, in a whole new state; quite different to anything I was used to. Given to me by my newly minted Step-Uncle, my set of wheels was nothing to rave about; it was a basic bicycle in good working order, suitably adjusted for my height and faded navy in color. The area around my home was mostly flat, with lots of quiet suburban streets plus a few roads that ventured out towards more desolate areas. My explorations were constricted by just one rule; I wasn’t allowed to cross the busy road that was a short two minutes away via pedaling. It sure was tempting, with the ocean just three blocks beyond it. Drat.

No matter. Still plenty of terrain to explore on the safer side of the street. I especially enjoyed one area that had homes spread father out, fields all around, and few trees. "Love is Blue" played loudest in my mind as I stood up on my bike for that extra leverage of thrust required to conquer a gentle hill towards where the more wide-open landscape started.

Wasn’t aware of it at the time, but, amazingly enough, there are lyrics to that song. It’s a sad tale of lost love sprinkled with various hues. Each color symbolizes various feelings associated with the end of the relationship. So in order not to shatter my memories, I’m going to apply those colors to those spring days from so long ago.

Blue, blue, my bike was blue (navy, remember?). Gray for the color of the skies in the cool mornings before the sun popped out. Red was the color of my favorite corduroy jacket. Green for the grass at the golf course where I accumulated inventory for resale. Green also brings to mind the smell of the pine trees that overpowered any other scents in the air. Black for how I sometimes felt in a strange new place, missing my friends while being made gentle fun of by new pals. But hey, who needs the lyrics anyway? Doesn’t really matter to me, when the memories remain clear.

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Listen to "Love is Blue" here

SunChips’ Compostable Bag: Should I Be Green After Hearing It? What?

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I love snacking on carbs. Who doesn’t? I’ll usually choose the healthier choices from one of those “alternative” markets. Well, I was in a bit of a shopping rush a few weeks ago and only had time to dash into a “regular” grocery to pick up some goodies and staples.

As luck would have it, I started imagining noshing on something with some crunch to it. So there I was, standing in the snack aisle. I wanted to make a healthy choice. And there on the shelf, I spotted Sun Chips. Yes, I have had them before; mainly for “people fuel” when on long driving trips.

After all, they are probably one of the healthiest choices at a gas station convenience store. Yes! Justification! So I scooped up bag. I immediately noticed the bag had a funny crinkle to it. Eh. I tossed it in the cart anyway.

Arriving home, I put away the groceries quickly. Now, on to those Sun Chips. The radio in the kitchen was blaring pretty loudly. I started opening the bag. Suddenly, the room exploded into crinkly clatter! Whoa! What happened to Pink Floyd? Was there an earthquake? My ears hurt!

Measured out a serving, ear still smarting. Yes, I measure my food, otherwise the contents of a bag of chips would magically disappear and I’d gain a pound. Now, time to roll-up the top of the bag and clip it. AAAARGH! That done, I gingerly held the bag and quickly stashed it into the kitchen pantry. Pink Floyd sang “You're nearly a laugh - But you're really a cry”.

The chips were delicious and satisfying.

What have the makers of Sun Chips done? Their intention is good. They’ve demonstrated care for our planet, and want to reduce their carbon footprint. And it’s easy to do our part. Put the bag in your compost pile and in a mere 3 ½ months it’s broken down and returned to the soil. Here is a page containing a nifty video that nicely illustrates the whole process.

The folks at Sun Chips admit that the bag is noisy and offered an explanation: “Plant-based materials have different sound properties than the materials used to create our old bags.” Nice to know, but perhaps free ear plugs should be included with every bag?

Searching on the internet on “Sun Chips” + “bag” + “noisy” reveals a considerable amount of backlash. After hearing it “live” myself, I’m not surprised to see so many responses. Hear it for yourself here.

The big question is...to buy or not to buy? Here’s my thought: If you relish the taste of this product, do continue to enjoy it. Open the bag, dump the chips into a bowl, and compost the bag immediately. Just 20 seconds of ear-splitting cackle is all you’ll have to put up with then. And the SunChips’ bags return to earth journey starts that much sooner. What are your thoughts?

The Green Season

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I love driving around Southern California this time of year. It’s Spring, full-force. Seeing many photos from friends on Facebook showing umpteen inches of snow makes me appreciate the climate I live in even more. Now, that doesn’t mean that I don’t like snow, actually, I do like snow, for many reasons:

• Making snow angels is just plain fun, even if the back of my pants gets soaked.
• Simply driving in snow can be challenging but enjoyable, especially after being stunned when your car does a “180” and thankfully not hitting anything.
• Having heavy snow fly in a straight on frenzy into the windshield while windshield wipers flap; there’s an intense rhythm to it. A pulsing tune on the radio adds to the effect.
• Snow is pretty when it’s fresh; when it forms a hard top coat, it even glistens. Truly a visual delight.
• Watching snow coming down while sitting by a roaring fireplace can be mesmerizing. Great stress reliever too.
• The company you work for may declare a “snow day”. Ah, permission to stay home and pretend you’re working! As a former East Coaster, yes, I have experienced this!

While many of my friends are living in a snowy winter wonderland, I’m busy basking in a world of green. Driving around many areas near my home, distant green rolling hills surround me and make me suck in my breath, stirred by the feeling of peacefulness that stirs within. Yeah, it sounds corny, but it’s true. And all the while, I’m still in full control of a moving vehicle!

Now is the time of the year when suburban lawns are most vibrant, ranging from a darker “grass green”, to the more lemon-lime brightness of younger blades. As I stroll my neighborhood, I delight in the patchwork of living colors. How wonderful that there are so many hues of greens to enjoy!

Enjoy your seasons, whether they are intensely different each quarter, or just evolve slightly through the year. Soak in the colors, bask in the sun’s intensity, and be dazzled by the wonders, big and small. Pay attention to the details and the one-of-a-kind sightings. Go ahead; create a name for those short periods of time. And welcome to my "Green Season”.