So you want to know about me. Well, I'll tell you one thing about me. When I turned sixteen, I inherited a 1977 Plymouth Arrow from my grandfather, Garland (Runt) Moore, "Pop" to me. He inherited this car from his son, Keith, who passed away about a month after I was born at the age of 23 from some nasty cancer. I was named after Keith; my middle name, that is. The seats in the Arrow were black vinyl and would get super hot in the summer time, as would the engine. But that sure was a fun little hatchback car. I painted a giant Autobots symbol on the hood and hooked up some ear deafening speakers to pump out the glory of the punk rock music that I'd discovered. It became a portable stereo system for the skateparks and skate spots around southern Piedmont Virginia and northern North Carolina. I used to ride with my grandpa, Pop, in that car when I was young. After we were seated, he'd always turn to me, pat me on the left leg, and give my leg a mighty squeeze with a big grin on his face. He didn't say much, the stroke and all, but even though that squeeze hurt like the dickens, I'd smile back and expect one every time I got in that car. Too bad he didn't make it till I was sixteen and would have been in the driver's seat, where I could repay the love.

I hail from Dixie where the moonshine flowed like water and our summer nights were spent chasing lightning bugs through the tobacco fields. I skateboarded my way through high school and moved to the big city of Norfolk to learn some bits about machines and equations. After attempting to race small formula cars and sitting in tunnel traffic all too many hours, the bicycle entered my life. What an amazing, even perfect machine. After the military shrouded city started to get old, I dropped the car and made my way to the bicycle capital of the United States out in sunny California. Little gold was to be found, but lots of like minded folks were in abundance. The Bike Church of Davis was my first calling, after running from my Southern Baptist upbringing. I got ordained as a Reverend and somehow in my spare time obtained a Master's and Ph.D. about balancing on bicycles. Senator Fulbright sent me to the Bicycle Capital of the World where I lived in a squat called the Poppehuis which freed up rent money for me to indulge on Belgian beer and couchsurfing all around Europe. My fondness for engineering carried me further to many other countries in the world to learn from our most resourceful tinkers, makers, and thinkers. After postdoctoral limbo working on powered leg prosthetics in Cleveland I returned back to California and my alma mater to breath some life into engineering education. After five years searching for gold again, the bicycle path angled back towards Europe where I am now engineering bicycles and teaching the next generation.

You can learn more about what I think about by reading my blog or following me on social media where I post commentary on a variety of things.

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