Memories of Jim Shanni

One of my randonneur cycling friends died on July 25th while riding his bike. Jim Shanni apparently suffered a cardiac event and never regained consciousness. He was 58 years old and a strong cyclist. I am saddened to lose my friend so unexpectedly. 

I met Jim in 2010 as I finished my third RUSA  ride, a 300 km brevet out of Gainesville GA. He was checking in riders, grilling hot dogs, and providing other refreshments. I was new to randonneuring while Jim started in 2007 I think the next time I saw him was at a 600 km brevet in North Carolina when Jim's car had a mechanical issue and we tried to locate an owner's manual on line. Jim developed several routes that could be ridden for RUSA credit. I frequently did three of his routes. Back then we had to pre-register with the "permanent owner" in advance. I got to know Jim well, often he would join me if schedules permitted, and we became good friends.

Here are a few memorable rides I did with Jim.

In 2011 Jim and I volunteered to pre-ride the Gainesville 300 km brevet (ride where we initially met the prior year). Pre-rides confirm cue sheet directions and make sure the roads are OK. We started at 4:00 am Friday the day before the event to finish at a reasonable time and before predicted rain. Most of the ride went well and we shared plenty of stories. Late in the afternoon the weather changed and light rain rolled in. Since Jim was a stronger cyclist than me, he went ahead to avoid/minimize lousy conditions we began to encounter. The rain increased along with thunder and lightning. Although temperatures were reasonable and I had rain gear, the deluge made for miserable conditions. I had several cars offer a ride but determined to receive brevet credit I declined telling them my car was just down the road. Finally the zip lock bag protecting my cue sheet began to leak and directions began to disappear. While I was near the end and on the same roads we had taken on the way out, it was disconcerting to put it mildly. A few miles from the finish Jim came out in his car, genuinely concerned for my safety, and pleaded with me to get into his car. I refused and managed to finish but recall the concern I caused for Jim. On the brevet was the next day two riders encountered a road closure (from the storm I think) and could not complete the brevet.

During a 200 km brevet in 2014 I was bitten by a dog. There were three dogs in a yard on the left as I climbed a small grade. Two of them ran across the road and were just running along side me. Concerned about them crossing in front of me, I was attacked from behind by the third dog who chomped hard on my left calf; the pain and shock reminded me of the movie Jaws. Then all three dogs regrouped and began chasing as I sprinted as fast as I've ever worked on a bike. I rode to a nearby convenience store, but they didn't have first aid supplies that I needed. I called friends at Hard Labor Creek state park picnicking who had first aid supplies. One friend there (doctor) recommended ER visit/stitches while another friend (nurse) disagreed with stitching right away. Jim was on the ride ahead of me--and an ER physician--so I called and asked him to wait for me at the brevet finish to assess the damage. After cleaning and bandaging at HLC I rode 30 miles to the finish where Jim met me. I had first aid stuff in my car, do we looked at the wounds and cleaned them up again. Jim's assessment was if it had been my face he would stitch but since it was my leg leave it open for now to reduce chance of infection. He then gave me detailed instructions on how to care for it, and called in a antibiotic prescription at the Kroger pharmacy nearby. Thanks to Jim's advice, the wounds healed without complication, and it turned out the dog who bit me was the only one with current vaccinations. 

Later that year I fractured my femur on a brevet in Rome. At the time I had done 58 monthly RUSA rides of at least 200 km and wanted to keep the streak alive. A group of us scheduled a 200 km Athens permanent for October 25. I rode a tandem as the stoker while Kevin Kaiser was the pilot. It was a challenging ride for Kevin (first tandem ride--and likely his last). Jim was on that ride, and throughout the day riders shepherded Kevin and me to a successful day. I could not have done it without all that support.

In November 2017 I was T-boned by a car on a Sunday ride less than a mile from home and spent 4 days in the hospital. Once again I was working on a streak and by late December felt good enough to attempt a 200 km RUSA ride. Jim and two other riders (Brian Burke & Robert Newcomer) showed up to shepherd me through the day. Once again I would not have been successful without their help. I most likely would not have even attempted it solo. 

These stories reflect my own perspectives, but they are examples of how supportive Jim was to everyone he met on RUSA rides. I do not know details on Jim's passing, but that isn't important right now What's important is Jim's family, friends and I lost a wonderful person--unexpectedly and too damn early.

 GODSPEED, JIM.

Immigration

 

Our immigration policy is like the movie Groundhog Day.  Border apprehensions go up; an administration panics and enacts harsher enforcement; apprehensions decline; the administration declares victory; border apprehensions go up again. The only consistent long-term policy is convincing immigrants not to come here at all, and that isn’t really working and is not in America’s best interest long term.

Immigrants come here for the same reasons our ancestors did, and many are well qualified to perform jobs our economy is desperate for, from harvesting lettuce, replacing roofs, and tons of basic service economy positions most of us don’t foresee our descendants striving for. We also need to accept that many determinants of migration are outside the control of the United States and beyond the reach of our policies. We should also realize that it is impossible to crisis-proof the border because no investment in and of itself — even a wall — will stop people from being able to set foot on U.S. soil. Politicians should stop throwing rocks blaming the other party; invest resources and money to upgrade the vetting process and improve humanitarian conditions for immigrants during that process.

Increase the capacity at ports of entry to conduct orderly asylum interviews rather than forcing people to use Customs and Border Protection’s notoriously buggy CBP One app in the hopes of setting up scarce appointments.

Establish a “peace core” center that can train recent college grads on the proper vetting process. Besides a starting salary another incentive could be a formula forgiving student loan debt based on training time and length of service.

Recruit new lawyers to practice immigration law for a specified time like we currently do for doctors to encourage them to spend time in rural areas.

Improve temporary housing for immigrants who qualify for future immigration hearings, so they have an incentive to show up instead of disappearing.

Beef up our court system with more judges—and attorneys—so matters get heard faster. BTW this could apply to our criminal justice system too.

Educate immigrants on what the vetting process is all about including giving them information on how they can help in providing information when the standard docs may not be available. If your house were on fire would you go back inside to get your birth certificate?

Lost/stolen wallet

It's been 41 years since I experienced a lost/stolen wallet, but it happened today. After going to the gym, I joined two friends for lunch. When it was time to pay, my wallet was not in my back pocket. I thought it must be in my gym bag, but as I searched it and my car, no wallet. Just then I received a text from a credit card company asking if I had used it to make a $400 purchase at Lowe's. Pretty obvious I did not have my wallet, but someone did. Within minutes another text arrived from American Express, same amount also at Lowe's. I called both companies and had cards blocked, but neither company could tell me the location of the store. I tried calling Lowe's and was put on terminal hold so I drove to the closet one. Showed them the text and they were able to identify the Lowe's in question--but it was not the one where I had gone.

So how does one deal with this? Since I wasn't sure where I was when the wallet disappeared, the procedure is call the police where one resides to obtain a police report/case number. Fortunately I live in Sandy Springs and our police force is responsive and very helpful. They will then report to the Chamblee PD (where the Lowe's store involved is located) and they in turn investigate. There may well be video evidence, but that probably won't get my wallet back. At least I will not be responsible for multiple charge attempts--some declined, but some initially approved.

The rest of my day was spent figuring how to get a new driver's license, what ID is needed, and where drivers service center is currently located since the one I've previously used to renew my license had relocated. Taking care of that was easy as the center was not crowded and well staffed. It did cost $32, but now my license is good for 8 more years instead of expiring next year. One benefit is since I no longer wear corrective lenses after cataract surgery, I showed the examiner the patient implant ID card, passed the vision test (which is a joke), my new license will no longer contain a corrective vison requirement.

Replacing other stuff takes more time (health insurance, student id, library card, new wallet, etc).Fortunately I don't carry much stuff in a wallet. I suppose most of us have dealt with this at some point; I'm glad it's been 41 years since I last had to deal with it.

In 1982 I had just moved to Atlanta from Connecticut about 2 weeks before. The biggest issue was I still had a CT license and no GA license. I was scheduled to fly to NY on business in a few days, and would need to rent a car. The next day  I was visiting one of my company's agents in Newnan, and asked him if there was a driver's service nearby so I could obtain a GA license. He said the GA State Patrol Post was nearby and he could help expedite things. However, he insisted driving me there right away in his car which was a huge Buick sedan. I'm thinking I'll have to take a written exam, driver's road and vision tests, but he insisted he would make sure we bypassed all that (after all his uncle was a former Georgia governor). My friend knew everyone at the post, explained I was a long-time business associate and needed to get a GA license to replace an out of state license immediately. The examiner asked for my CT address, and in about 2 minutes confirmed my CT license was valid. I only had to take a written exam and vision test (no road test) and had a GA license in less than 15 minutes. Back then I did not have a passport and photo IDs were not common. About a month later, I received a small package in the mail. It contained my wallet which was found on a street in Atlanta by someone who mailed it to my CT address where it was then forwarded to me in Atlanta.

I'll probably never see that wallet or learn the identity of whoever picked it up. Probably good since learning who's responsible might result in a felony--on my record.

Bob Trippe

In the Atlanta Journal Constitution obituaries I noticed a longtime friend Bob Trippe had passed away in Clearwater, Florida. I met Bob early in my Chubb career when I was sent to Atlanta in 1968 on a month-long temporary assignment in the Personal Lines Department. Bob was an underwriter in that department and we became quick friends as I had never previously been in Atlanta. The assignment stretched in several months and while I thought a permanent transfer would be nice, I was sent back to continue my training in New York. In late 1970 one of the other Atlanta PL underwriters was promoted, and I was offered a transfer; it was a good opportunity so I jumped at it. Bob was still there, and we continued hanging out together.

Many a night was spent at The Red Dog Inn (later Clarence Fosters and now a Chick Filet site). We enjoyed drinking, good music, and shared a quirky sense of humor. We enjoyed pulling multiple pranks on fellow Chubb employees. One I remember was when Bob and I were assigned to design department work flow charts. After we completed the project we then designed different wacky versions and distributed them to some gullible unsuspecting employees--it was hilarious. When Chubb merged with/acquired Pacific Indemnity, the Atlanta branch of each company shared office space. Relations got strained at times. In an effort to lighten things up Bob and I prepared a pamphlet titled "Analysis of the Chubb & Pacific Indemnity Merger." When you opened it the first page was a photo of 2 rhinos having intercourse with the "make love not war motto" below. The Chubb branch manager laughed, but warned us not to show it to PI staff. Of course we showed it to the PI branch manager and his response was "you don't know what it's like down below." Another time I grew a mustache much to the chagrin of our department manager. When I refused to shave it he suspended me from traveling or conducting agency seminars I had helped design. Bob was instrumental in convincing our manager that was a stupid policy and he ultimately relented. 52 years later I still haven't shaved it.

In late 1972  I was offered a career expanding opportunity in Chubb's home office. While I wound up in NJ, LA and CT, Bob remained in Atlanta, ultimately becoming the regional Personal Lines Manager. Fast forward 10 years and Bob was named the branch manager of Chubb's Charlotte office, and I was promoted into Bob's regional position. Even though we were in different cities we frequently interacted at numerous Personal Lines meetings and some home office activities. Bob and also spent time together planning and establishing a personal lines underwriting presence in Charlotte.  

I left Chubb in 1988, and Bob ultimately wound up in Tampa as the branch manager so the friendship faded over time. I often thought about our friendship. Like many of my Chubb friends it became harder to keep in touch once I left. That was one my regrets about leaving a 20 year career. I have managed to maintain contact with a few of them. I wish Bob had remained one of them

Godspeed, Bob Trippe.

Violence in America and the world

 In previous posts about mass shootings and segregation, I suggested America has a long history of violent behavior. These days the news, internet, and every information source have daily stories about some unfortunate confrontation within my city, state, nation. 

I recently read a book that suggests this is not only an American problem. Killing the Killers, by Bill O'Reilly and Martin Dugard take a look at the war against terror. It's a compelling--and not fun reading for the weak of heart. It outlines how some of the world's most wanted terrorists have been dispatched, but also shares  gruesome details on the attacks/killings enacted against the victims of terrorism.  

While America's concerns centers mainly on gun control, terrorists demonstrate there are many other methods to kill. Suicide bombings, improvised explosive devices (IED) beheading, vehicle crashes are not common here, but are used throughout the world. 

In mass killings the common element to me seems to be a hatred or mental health that drives someone to an extreme action against innocent people even at the expense of their own life. In the USA the hatred has many sources; world-wide terrorism stems mainly around religious differences. Hatred and religion violence has existed since time began. Both seem to be headed in undesirable directions.

A recent study published by the creators of the Violence Project catalogued over 150 mass shootings back to 1966. Using public records, news stories, and interviews with those who knew the shooter, they compiled detailed information about killers, weapon types, victims, and settings. Their data suggests a pattern of distress which the authors think is related to the increased frequency of mass shootings in the US. Many shooters previously mentioned suicide, isolation or had made disturbing comments/videos. Perhaps they chose a mass shooting as a way to seize power and attention while ending their own life in a way they controlled. The study showed mass shootings are increasing as one-third of the shootings studied occurred in the last decade and nearly all the shooters were men. 

We recently discussed gun violence in a men's group forum and I mentioned favoring banning assault weapons and related accessories like bump stocks, and mandatory life sentences without parole for first degree murder convictions I don't advocate the death penalty mainly because it costs society more to process endless appeals beforehand than it does to just lock them up for lie. In retrospect, while that might have some effect, it doesn't deal with individuals with serious hate or mental health problems especially if they are using it a a way to end their own life. 

Our country has long struggled in dealing with mental health and extreme hate issues, and solutions in that arena seem to defy resolution or improvement.

  

77 and Still Counting

 

January 24^th marks my 77^th trip around the sun which was the same number that my paternal grandfather made.  It’s a milestone because both my parents and maternal grandfather died much younger.  I believe genetics from parents/grandparents can play a role in how long a person lives. No doubt lifestyle, nutrition, physical activity, and luck also play a part.

Smoking was a major factor in my parents early demise, and both grandfathers had heart issues to the best of my knowledge; they passed away long before I even started my journey. I did know both grandmothers—although not that well since they lived in Pennsylvania. They each lived into their 80s. I think one died sitting in a chair at home while reading; the other was affected by dementia but well into her 80s before it appeared.

When one gets to my age usually some thoughts may arise concerning end of life. Right now I am financially comfortable, in reasonably good physical condition, and mentally sound at least based on having been back in college the last 10 years obtaining three more degrees. My affairs are in order (although still need more downsizing). My hope is I still have plenty of time to work on that and many other even more enjoyable activities.

I would like to live long enough to take a stab at the world hour one hour centurion cycling record and perhaps die riding a bike. Wouldn’t care if that occurred because of stroke, heart attack, accident as long as it’s quick. That would mean I enjoyed quality of life right up to the end.

Wish me luck—but hopefully not too soon.

Second College Journey

 10 years ago I discovered I could attend college at any public Georgia college/university tuition free. The requirement is be 62 years old and a Georgia resident. All required is an application, $60.00 fee and previous college transcripts. Taking exercise science courses would be an inexpensive way of getting continuing education credits to maintain coaching licenses I have. Upon acceptance at Georgia State University I was asked if I wanted to declare a major. When they also advised 130 hours had transferred from my previous college career so I was a senior, I embarked on a second undergrad degree, this time in exercise science. 

Along the way I took other courses of interest, and in 2017 wound up with an undergrad gerontology and BS in exercise science. I then started working on a graduate gerontology degree fueled by an interest doing a research thesis "Comparison of  cardiovascular changes occurring in older adults engaging in diverse types of stationary cycling exercise". Along the way I won third place in what's called the "Three Minute Thesis" competition, spent 2 weeks in a study abroad semester in China, and prepared my thesis proposal. Covid derailed my research plan. Instead I founded Georgia Cycling Without Age, a nonprofit that provides opportunities for those with limited mobility to enjoy the freedom, joy, and adventure that cycling provides using a specialty battery assisted bike that allows them to ride under the guidance of a pilot. That Capstone project finalized a Gerontology MA in 2021.

I also took kinesiology grad courses in addition to gerontology classes to help in prepare for my research study. Once I was half way to a Exercise Science MS that became the next goal. No sooner had that goal happened this past summer, I was recruited to teach an under grad anatomy class at GSU this semester.

So it has been a 10 year adventure and I am not sure it's over. I don't plan on a PHD, as I now realize research is not my cup of tea, and I can now teach at college level if that's what I want to do. I have extensive teaching experience from my previous insurance career and learned more anatomy teaching than when I originally took the course. The biggest challenging teaching for me going forward would be figuring out how to effective engage and communicate with students three generations removed from mine.

As I mentioned, this journey has been tuition free. My expenses have been minimal lab fees in a few classes, text books, transportation/parking,. My tuition costs had I been paying would have been $90,000. Sometimes being old and interested in more education has advantages.

Back to the future: growing up Catholic

 My mother was Catholic while my father grew up in a Presbyterian family. When they married the agreement was children would be raised Catholic. This was a non-issue for my father since he seemed religion ambivalent. So my brother and I grew up as Catholics. Early on I was too young so I did was I was told, and from a religious point of view my mother set the stage. First grade was spent in public school, but in 1952 a Catholic school was established in my home town. Where I should go to school became a debate between my parents as my mother wanted me at Sacred Heart while my father felt public schools were more established. My mother won that debate so Catholic school became my educational path for the next 7 years. In retrospect I wish my father had prevailed, but it was not his nature to debate religion.

During those years I accepted Catholicism as gospel without question. I did worry about my father not attending services with us, and when I asked him about that, he said, "Well, I am Presbyterian." Later on I asked why he did not go to the Presbyterian church in town, he responded, "Well, that's a southern Presbyterian church and I'm a northern Presbyterian." Later on I discovered there was a profound difference, but back then I thought he would wind up in hell since Catholics believed they were the only ones who ever wound up in heaven. When my mother started skipping church I began to have doubts about her as well. Nevertheless, I tried following the rules as best I could.

After graduating from Sacred Heart I wanted to go to a seminary to become a priest. My father won that debate by telling my mother and me, if Neil wants to consider priesthood he can explore that after high school. I think it's the only argument he ever won with my mother. Side note: if my parents ever seriously argued about things I seldom was aware of it.  Back then I thought priesthood would be cool: public speaking, helping people, a nice residence, some wine, etc. Whoops, being celibate?  My doubts had began after going to confession for years making up stuff. Now as sexual interests evolved, I confessed stuff I wasn't even sorry about. I quit going to confession or receiving communion in high school, but  attended Sunday services even after starting college.

The University of Richmond was affiliated with the Baptist Association of Virginia, and students were required to take two semesters of religious history, aka Bible. It was the old and new testament from the King James version of the bible. They were were more like interesting history courses, and I learned it was OK to question things. That was contrary to my Catholic upbringing where you were not allowed to question anything. Once I quit going to church, I began to question and rebel against Catholicism.. Everything I had experienced smacked of this is the way, the only way, and if one is not completely on board, heaven and eternal salvation are out of the question.

Both of my marriages were to Catholics. The first was in a Catholic church while the last one was a civil ceremony. At one point we thought it would be advantageous to expose my stepson to a religion. We naturally gravitated toward Catholicism. Early on I thought the church had become more enlightened, but when we explored getting married as Catholics it turned out annulling two earlier marriages required digging up long buried grudges and memories. It was also ridiculously expensive. That ended my last real exposure to any type religious faith. 

I think of myself as agnostic. I don't know if there is an after life or heaven and hell. My goal is to to life a moralistic life so I will be covered either way. I am not perfect, but I do my best. I accept many individuals thrive in their religion; it's just not something I feel necessary for me to live a worthwhile life.