Reborn . . .

When I was twenty-five, my mom gave me a unicycle for my birthday.  That was in 1973, still three years before I went to Clown College.  I still have it.  It will be thirty-nine tomorrow, same age as Jack Benny . . . 

It spent the last ten years or so in my garage, quietly pining away to be ridden, its tears causing an accumulation of rust to accrue on all its metal surfaces, its tire flat and dry-rotted, it's pedals loose and floppy.  Neglect, pure and simple, not even benign.  Before we moved here, it spent years in our other garage, quietly suffering the same fate.  It never complained, just suffered . . . 

This is how bad the seat had gotten.  The post, and fork, and pedal arms looked the same.  The rim was pitted and scarred, and the one missing spoke had caused the wheel to get out of round.  Fortunately, I can't show you what the rest of it looked like, because it doesn't look like that anymore.

This year, on Spring Break, we went to GrammaLand (Ft. Lauderdale, where gramma lives).  Also in GrammaLand is a place called "the Swap Shop," which is where gramma and grampa work.  They have a business selling hats of all kinds, shapes and prices.  They've been there for what seems like forever.  I met them in 1994 when I went to the Swap Shop to work for the George Hanneford Family Circus.  I would only have been there for the winter, but when spring came in 1995, and I called to find out when Bentley Bros Circus was opening,  I  was informed that my services would no longer be required . . .

So, thanks to the good graces of the Hanneford family, I spent an entire year at the Swap Shop, and I also met my wife (we'll be married 16 years in June) and her sister, and her brother, who is also known at the Swap Shop as "the Bike Man."  His name is Airton, but everyone calls him "Junior," perhaps because his dad (grampa) is also named Airton . . .

This is his card . . .

  

So, this time when we went to GrammaLand, I brought my unicycle with me.  Junior restored it to pristine condition.  He put on a new seat and post, and pedals, new tube and tire, replaced the missing spoke, and trued the wheel.  Then he removed all the accumulated rust.  Years of neglect disappeared in just one day!  And to the amazement of all around me when we got home, I didn't get killed when I tried to ride it!  In fact, I rode it as competently as I did the first time, thirty-nine years ago.  In a straight line, all the way to the end of the parking lot.  I never really mastered turning . . . but hey-- I'll be 64 in the morning, and I can still ride a unicycle!  Or I can again ride a unicycle.  And it's the same unicycle!  This is what it looks like now . . .

Note the flash reflection in the chrome!  That's the part that was covered in rust.  One day with a master "Bike Man," and my near death unicycle is reborn, renewed, cleansed from years of physical neglect, made new, without spot or blemish.  Kind of like what happened to me, after one day with the Master on Halloween, 1988.  I emerged from that experience reborn, renewed, cleansed from years of spiritual neglect, also made new, also without spot or blemish.  Jesus said "I am the way, the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through Me  (John 14:6 NKJV)."   Now, if that's not true, I haven't lost anything by believing it .  But if it is true, then, by believing it, I've gained eternal life.   I came to the Father, through Jesus, on October 31, 1988 at First Assembly of God Church in Shreveport, LA, when my unicycle was fifteen years old.  I was forty.  And nothing has ever been the same, since I let Jesus into my life.  If you find this interesting enough to make you curious, then check out this LINK . 

If not . . . think about what happens if what Jesus said is true, and you choose to not believe . . .

And if you're in Ft. Lauderdale, and you need bike work, or a hat, go to the Swap Shop and meet my inlaws . . . tell them Bruce the Clown sent you.