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Hey gang, I write for a lot more than just ActiveMSers. Often it's not something worth sharing, but this recent piece in my community's magazine is kinda fun. You can see I'm as friendly with these folks as I am with you all, and in this article I talk about my MS. Funny, nowadays, I can't ride my trike without someone hollering my name (or "Super Dave!) out a car window. And more and more folks are asking about MS. Just wanted to share. -D
Getting to Know You, All of You
When I embarked on my mission of meeting everyone in the Village—and learning the names of everyone—perhaps, and I may be going out on a limb here, that may have been a rather ambitious goal seeing as how there are over 6,000 residents. But I like big challenges. So on my regular bike rides (you can’t miss me on my yellow arm trike) I work to befriend—some might say accost (semantics)—virtually every person I cross paths with. Usually it goes fantastically well. And sometimes it goes like this….
“Hi, my name is Dave! I’m new here and I’m trying to meet everyone in the Village. So nice to meet you…” I pause for introductions.
“Uh huh. You, too.”
“That’s Dave Bexfield. Newbie.” Big smile. I shoot out my hand as a peace offering. My days as a potential mugger have long past, another thing multiple sclerosis has robbed from me. Oh the irony, MS robbing me from being a robber. But apparently I still look suspicious with all that friendliness. “Just trying to learn everyone’s name,” I say. Another smile.
“That’s nice.”
Some nuts are hard to crack. But most Villagers have been an open pistachio, sharing not only their names, but also stories about living and growing up (or growing older) in the Village. I’ve heard heartwarming tales and tales of heartbreak. I found out JoAn and Harry celebrated their wedding anniversary with a special dinner at the Rancher’s Club, Deborah had a fall but her mom Olivia is walking her dog Emma while she recovers, and Chester, the WWII vet who moved to his home on Green Valley 53 years ago, has 52 years more experience living in the Village than I do.
I’ve hit every road in Los Ranchos de Albuquerque multiple times (except those east of Fourth—traffic is a bit tricky to navigate on a bike for my tastes, but I’ll get there). I’ve met Maxine and Dave in Tinnin Farms, Pam in Los Poblanos Orchards, Stephanie and Michael in Dietz Farms, Susan and her two dogs Maggie and Clyde in Caballero. I’ve run into Father Chester, Dr. Coleman, Ed the sculptor, and Theresa the Valley girl. Gerry and Jane even offered up a home tour and glasses of ice water—what a pleasant surprise. I’ve met so many nice people (hi Barbara on Tyler!) I couldn’t possibly begin to name them all.
But the Villagers who have been most enthusiastic about meeting me? Children. It’s as if I’m driving a Batmobile and it’s shooting out flames. Without fail, kids come running for a closer look, squealing about my “OMG cool bike,” and peppering me with questions (how do you pedal, how do you steer, why do you have a flag, how fast can you go, can you tell my mom to buy me one for my birthday, and on and on).
When our paths cross, and they almost certainly will, raise an arm and toss me a wave. I’m your new neighbor! But don’t hold it against me if I don’t remember your name. It’s another brilliant day in the Village.
CAPTION: Warning: if you see this guy, he will wave and say hi to you.
When I embarked on my mission of meeting everyone in the Village—and learning the names of everyone—perhaps, and I may be going out on a limb here, that may have been a rather ambitious goal seeing as how there are over 6,000 residents. But I like big challenges. So on my regular bike rides (you can’t miss me on my yellow arm trike) I work to befriend—some might say accost (semantics)—virtually every person I cross paths with. Usually it goes fantastically well. And sometimes it goes like this….
“Hi, my name is Dave! I’m new here and I’m trying to meet everyone in the Village. So nice to meet you…” I pause for introductions.
“Uh huh. You, too.”
“That’s Dave Bexfield. Newbie.” Big smile. I shoot out my hand as a peace offering. My days as a potential mugger have long past, another thing multiple sclerosis has robbed from me. Oh the irony, MS robbing me from being a robber. But apparently I still look suspicious with all that friendliness. “Just trying to learn everyone’s name,” I say. Another smile.
“That’s nice.”
Some nuts are hard to crack. But most Villagers have been an open pistachio, sharing not only their names, but also stories about living and growing up (or growing older) in the Village. I’ve heard heartwarming tales and tales of heartbreak. I found out JoAn and Harry celebrated their wedding anniversary with a special dinner at the Rancher’s Club, Deborah had a fall but her mom Olivia is walking her dog Emma while she recovers, and Chester, the WWII vet who moved to his home on Green Valley 53 years ago, has 52 years more experience living in the Village than I do.
I’ve hit every road in Los Ranchos de Albuquerque multiple times (except those east of Fourth—traffic is a bit tricky to navigate on a bike for my tastes, but I’ll get there). I’ve met Maxine and Dave in Tinnin Farms, Pam in Los Poblanos Orchards, Stephanie and Michael in Dietz Farms, Susan and her two dogs Maggie and Clyde in Caballero. I’ve run into Father Chester, Dr. Coleman, Ed the sculptor, and Theresa the Valley girl. Gerry and Jane even offered up a home tour and glasses of ice water—what a pleasant surprise. I’ve met so many nice people (hi Barbara on Tyler!) I couldn’t possibly begin to name them all.
But the Villagers who have been most enthusiastic about meeting me? Children. It’s as if I’m driving a Batmobile and it’s shooting out flames. Without fail, kids come running for a closer look, squealing about my “OMG cool bike,” and peppering me with questions (how do you pedal, how do you steer, why do you have a flag, how fast can you go, can you tell my mom to buy me one for my birthday, and on and on).
When our paths cross, and they almost certainly will, raise an arm and toss me a wave. I’m your new neighbor! But don’t hold it against me if I don’t remember your name. It’s another brilliant day in the Village.
CAPTION: Warning: if you see this guy, he will wave and say hi to you.
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