Harley And His Dream Glide

HARLEY AND HIS DREAM GLIDE

REDNECKS

Ancestral analysis indicated Harley was 80% Viking, but his mind told him he was 100% Redneck. A picture showed Harley's Mom at age five with four not-much-older siblings in Nebraska during the Great Depression. They were mud-plastered, barely-shooed, ragged-dressed – and happy-faced. Those pictures showed the resilience of the Greatest Generation.

Harley's Mom was quite smart, but schooling was not especially valued in her youth. She finished the eighth grade and married Harley's Dad at seventeen. All her brothers served during WWII. Harley's Dad was nineteen when they married. Harley's Dad had 5 siblings. All attended the Seventh Day Adventist Church. His Dad, Harley's Grandpa, had problems with alcohol and gambling. Grandpa had deemed it necessary to burn down their house for the insurance money. Twice. Harley's Dad became a fireman.

Harley's childhood was like that. People did the best they could with what they had. Harley never knew there was such a thing as Christmas gifting until he was 8. Until then, his footballs were empty containers of Quaker's Oats. Harley did not have wheels to date any girls until he was a senior in High School He was “privileged” to be a redneck through and through. His ticket out was the Army and GI Bill.

Then there was a long period of studying, law school, trying cases, working to provide for his family, and observing how crazy the world can become. Harley finally retired when he was 66. Immediately, he bought a 2012 Harley Ultra Limited Electra Glide. Harley became an average biker with a far above-average fondness for cross-country and long-distance riding. Soon enough, he became a Road Captain among a chapter of riders called Cowboys.

WORLD OF RAT FACE

Now, at 67, Harley purchased a new Road Glide, Limited. Unknown to him, a strange engineer had worked a year for the manufacturer designing experimental models. The engineer had undeniable talents, but no one was quite sure of his background. Somehow, he applied his talent to produce a single experimental bike that had features he did not tell anyone about. It so happened that Harley was drawn to buy that bike.

Now, Harley was testing that bike. He accelerated to the top speed the governor would allow: 115 mph. On a whim, Harley goosed the throttle a second time. The landscape dissolved into a kaleidoscope and his speedometer needle was now buried as far as it could go. Harley had no idea how fast he was going. Then the entire landscape slowed, as if everything were happening in slow motion. His bike took on a mind of its own, and soon he was stopped at a remote gas station where he was welcomed by a man with a rat-like face.

Harley was having a spiritual episode, but he worried he was having a medical episode. He asked the man how to get to the nearest hospital. The man grinned and said there was only one route. He explained while he pointed to a red button that somehow had appeared on the bike. Harley could reach the hospital only by accelerating to 115 mph enough times and hitting the button each time until he had run through the entire cycle. Harley accelerated and hit the button to engage the first part of the cycle.

WOLF CREEK PASS

Harley twisted the throttle until the smoke cleared. Now he found himself with a friend riding along Wolf Creek Pass in Colorado during a drenching hail storm. The hail was sticking to the road and was now several inches high. Oncoming trucks were splashing dirty splotches of hail across his visor. His friend was in the lead and could see only by raising his visor. That allowed road spray to cream his face and eyes. If he went down, there was no convenient place for cover.

Harley stayed close behind. His friend was spooked. He asked Harley to lead when the hail relented, but it relented only a short while. The heavens opened and a new downpour began. Harley found cover under a church overhang while they waited. Then, Harley found he was alone again --- except Rat Face was back, wagging his finger, urging that the Evil One was near.

LEGS FAILED

It was not a sense of humor that came up next in the time-jumbling cycle. Harley found himself coming home from his private practice and being met by his wife, who had a very concerned look on her face. Harley braced as she informed him that his retarded nephew, then nineteen, had found his older brother's gun and used it to kill him and his wife as he sneaked into their room and shot them dead while they lay in bed. Harley's legs collapsed from under him. He cried, prayed, and sat for a long time.

Harley was contacted by the District Attorney where his brother had lived. He knew the nephew had been difficult to raise. He also knew his brother had loved him. And he knew prison would be hell for him. Harley resolved that his brother would want what was best, so Harley worked with the officials to get his nephew moved to a mental hospital. However, the nephew kept wandering off, which was unacceptable to the authorities. So, Harley worked to get him under the supervision of a Recovery Charity. When funds for that lapsed, Harley worked to get him into a state-funded foster program. Harley had no more in himself to give after that.

The daydreams faded, and Harley re-mounted his Rocket Glide. Rat Face was there. He signified that the Evil One had lost ground.

TOO SLOW

Next, Harley found himself cruising along a freeway toward Laredo. The posted speed limit was 65. Harley was going 75 when he noticed a Sheriff's car next to him in the right lane. Harley braked. The sheriff braked. Harley braked more and got behind the Sheriff. The Sheriff pulled into the left land and slowed. Harley had no choice but to pass on the right. Then the Sheriff got behind him and turned on his flashing lights. When Harley pulled over, the Sheriff said, Most drivers on this road go 85. I was concerned that you were slowing.

When Harley looked closer, he saw that the Sheriff was Rat Face. He said to Harley, You are going too slow. The Evil One is gaining.

GONE TO LUNCH

In the morning, the Rocket Glide took Harley back to a rehabilitation center where his Mom, ninety, had been working hard to do her exercises. Too hard. A day before, a Chaplain had visited and asked if Mom wanted to pray. She said yes. The next day, Harley was visiting with his Sister when Mom told him he needed to get his lunch. It was an uncharacteristic and stern order. In hindsight, Harley suspected she felt death was at hand and did not want him to see it.

While Harley was out, his Sister called him on his cell phone and said Mom was in extreme distress, and the Nursing Station had ignored repeated urgings. When Harley rushed back to the room, an emergency resuscitation team was on his heels. There was some concern about a Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) order, but Harley and his Sister insisted the effort be made. The team went about their work, using oxygen and heart shocks. Mom raised up slightly and asked, What is happening? Her last words.

Then she laid down while oxygen was administered. A doctor was on call and hurried over. He monitored various readings and then gave his sad opinion: No recovery was likely. He waited with Harley and his Sister for what seemed forever. When resuscitation efforts finally stopped, his Sister was devastated. She was angry with the Nursing Station, and she was upset that Harley had left for lunch. She wrote angry letters and sought legal help. Nothing came of those efforts.

After several days, Harley took her to the local Harley Davidson dealership and picked out a nice Road King to co-sign and buy for her. Harley encouraged her to take the riding course and get her motorcycle license. She perked up.

Harley met Rat Face as he left the Dealer. It was time for his next cycle. The Evil One had neither gained nor lost.

LOVE BEYOND ALL TOUGHNESS

Through all the stresses, Harley arrived finally at the pinnacle of his life. He was at the bedside of his youngest brother, Garland, who was 20 years younger than Harley. Garland was the last sibling. Mom and Dad had overcome their hillbilly/redneck ways and had done a superb job raising him. Garland was a Navy vet, became a chemist, and worked at labs for neutralizing poison mustard and nerve gases. He married and was a devoted father. He was a steadfast Christian, who dreamed of evangelizing in Africa. He was a beloved Deacon in his church. He did good things all his life. And he was struck with ALS – amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Lou Gehrig's disease.

Except, the variety Garland got was much more fast-paced. At first, he thought he just needed more exercise, so he and his wife rode and completed various difficult bike-riding courses. Shortly before, Garland had organized and presided over wonderful memorial services for Dad and Mom. They would have been proud. Then, he revealed he was scheduled for a medical diagnosis. Maybe the doctor was reluctant to hammer him immediately with awful news. Yes, it was ALS. But Garland was left with the hopeful impression it might be slow moving and he could participate in a medical experiment. Or maybe Garland just said that, so his family would hold out hope.

Meantime, he volunteered to counsel inmates at a local prison --- which he continued to do even after he could not be understood except with help from an inmate who was able to interpret his rapidly diminishing capacity to speak. Garland was a mensch among mensches.

Harley had been able to travel several times to visit Garland during the last year of his life. At first, Garland was able to move with the help of a walker. Then a wheelchair. Then a motorized wheelchair that he could operate only with his thumb. Then use of his thumb and speech were taken away from him. Then he could communicate only with the aid of a computer that responded to his eye movements.

During all this time, Garland remained steadfast in his devotion to Jesus. His family rose to every occasion to look after him. His church formed a Band of Brothers to visit him every Tuesday. He labored hard to communicate online with friends and relatives. He had two devoted, little dogs that guarded him in every possible way and responded to every change in his breathing.

The last time Harley saw him was extended over several days, when Harley, Garland, and his wife took a van ride to Mt. Ranier. Garland had been reading online about various of Harley's motorcycling trips. He knew Harley was about to ride through Glacier National Park, Yellowstone, and the Grand Tetons. They returned to Garland's home and Harley was about to hug him to say goodbye. He saw tears in his little brother's eyes and somehow understood his garbling. He was saying how he wished he could join the adventure. Harley hugged him and said he wished that, too.

When Garland passed away, most of his church attended, especially his Band of Brothers. His pastor teared up. The eulogies were tearful and soothing. Relatives had flown in from all across the continent. His urn was displayed. At a later interment, a Navy Honor Guard folded and presented a flag to his widow. His widow had taken half his ashes and her car and bike to ride and spread some of his ashes in all 50 states. Service was held to inter the remaining ashes with a stone inside a burial circle with the remains of his parents. His widow ceremoniously buried the urn. Garland's faith had never wavered. Harley was glad his parents did not have to see all this while they were still alive.

There was no act by Harley, good or bad, that affected any calculus regarding the Evil One. The only effect was from the tough love and grace that had been displayed in the life of his brother. His widow became a believer and joined his church. Harley sensed how powerfully Garland's grace had flowed from his love of Jesus.

THE PROBLEM OF EVIL

Rat Face appeared. He sensed Harley had been inspired. Now, he posed 6 questions.

1) Why did Jesus allow his physical self to be sacrificed?

- To inspire people to sense a higher, spiritual world and to sense their need to repent and want, by the grace of the Almighty, to be spiritually healed and saved.

2) Am I, Rat Face, real?

- Not in an entirely physical sense, but only in respect of the spiritually empathetic purposes of God.

3) Is the Evil One real?

- Only in the sense of representing those who stubbornly blind themselves against all that is spiritually empathetic and uplifting.

4) Are you, Harley, real?

- Except as an illusion, not in any purely physical sense. “I” am real in a metaphysical sense, only as a transient, imperfect, and unfolding Perspective of the one God who in grace leads every Perspective in spiritual empathy.

5) Is God real?

Yes. Reconciling Higher Consciousness abides --- based on insight, intuition, empathy, and self-evidence. Nothing else makes conceptual or moral sense. It defies conceptualization to imagine that material-appearing Substance and cumulating Information could exist in themselves apart from derivation by Consciousness applying a matrix of math to itself. The appearance of physical reality depends fundamentally on coordination from a metaphysical Beingness that reconciles our physical unfolding in math-based conservation. The flux of Physics is the derivative appearance. God is the superior reality. We function as imperfect participants and Perspectives who express innate empathy in dependence on the superior reality.

6) Finally, Rat Face asked Harley what he thought was the most serious and deadly problem in the world today.

- Harley had been thinking about that question, so he was moved to reply without hesitation: The gravest problem is the spiritual loss and confusion of faith.

Half the world believes more in mammon than in an Empathetic Higher Consciousness. It values and believes solely in materialism. Among such believers, some believe moral principles can reasonably be derived solely from matter-based scientism, entirely free from any higher, spiritual belief. This seems oxymoronic in that it professes that non-material moral principles can emerge or be derived from purely materialistic-based science. Yet, such believers want to trust scientific “experts” to derive all moral principles, while they deny that anyone else should have any responsibility or say, except to obey.

Others believe in mammon, but without pretense of morality --- except to deceive, divide, and rule over the ignorance of the masses. Harley called them self-godders and people-farmers.

Others profess to believe in God, but their belief is in the physics of a monster, not a higher form of empathetic consciousness. They advocate material supremacy for their monster-of-a-god and claim they have a god-given right to subjugate and rule all mammon over all others and a duty to kill apostates. Their belief system is not a religion if it is meant to be a profession that one actually believes, rather than a mere system of slogans that one promotes and regurgitates so as not to be subjugated or killed by monsters, madmen, or gangers.

Together, these various “believers” constitute the gravest threat to human freedom, dignity, decency, and fidelity to empathetic Higher Consciousness, aka, God. Harley said these “believers” were all sadly mistaken. Harley said nothing in science or reason supports their dogmatism against the intuition, self-evidence, empathy, and grace of Higher Consciousness.

Rat Face smiled, and his countenance softened.

He said, You won't prove it with physical evidence, but it was I, acting from another dimension with my fellows, who designed and planned your Road Glide. I had been inspired to sense that you had something worth saying about Good and Evil. So, my associates and I were inspired to give you a chance to articulate it.

You passed our testing cycle to determine whether you should soon chance to meet an Old Man and a Light Guide. Keep your eyes and heart open.

Then Harley blinked, and Rat Face was gone. The red button was gone from his bike. He was back at the Harley-Davidson Dealer, and a H.O.G. Chapter Ride was lining up. As if waking from a dream, Harley took his place in the line.