Act Bicycle Computer. Panniers For Bicycle. Rv Bike Carrier.
Act Bicycle Computer
- A cyclocomputer is a device mounted on a bicycle or a cyclist that calculates and displays trip information, similar to the instruments in the dashboard of a car. The computer with display, or head unit, usually is attached to the handlebar for easy viewing.
- Take action in order to bring about
- Take action; do something
- behave in a certain manner; show a certain behavior; conduct or comport oneself; “You should act like an adult”; “Don’t behave like a fool”; “What makes her do this way?”; “The dog acts ferocious, but he is really afraid of people”
- Take action according to or in the light of
- perform an action, or work out or perform (an action); “think before you act”; “We must move quickly”; “The governor should act on the new energy bill”; “The nanny acted quickly by grabbing the toddler and covering him with a wet towel”
- a legal document codifying the result of deliberations of a committee or society or legislative body
My Bike Club at Garden District
Meet David Kha, Tucson’s most prominent club catalyst
by Dave Devine
David Kha, the King of Clubs, poses with some of the bicycle parts in his back yard. Bicycle parts are used for the midtown bike club known as the "Spokes Folkes."
To find out more about any of the clubs and organizations David Kha is involved with, contact him at 323-8278 or firstname.lastname@example.org. Born in Hanoi, my friend David Kha came to this country 45 years ago to attend college in Minnesota. A decade later, he traveled to Tucson to work with children at a summer day camp, and decided to stay.
Kha originally ran a small gift shop and later worked at a bank, but for the last 20 years, he has operated his own computer sales and repair business. His real passion, however, is organizing clubs, especially for children.
Looking back, Kha is struck by how children’s activities are viewed in this country, compared to his native land. Take soccer, for example, known internationally as "football."
"In Vietnam, kids just played," Kha says. "You didn’t need leagues or coaches there. But everything has to be organized here."
Along with the late Martha Cooper, Kha established the Midtown Neighborhood Association in 1995. The same year, he helped organize a computer club at a local refugee center, with which he still assists.
"Everything I do is to get things rolling," Kha says. "I give them a push to get going. I’m not running the clubs, but I act as a coordinator."
In 1996, Cooper and Kha started a summer youth work program in their neighborhood–a program that still exists today. Cleaning yards, stenciling street numbers on curbs and painting decorative mailboxes, the middle school and high school participants earn a small wage while also generating funds that go back into the program.
In 1997, Kha helped start a chess club at Wright Elementary School near his home. Then, when he had a flat tire and didn’t have the equipment to fix it, began a bike club for kids with the help of a friend. The club met in his back yard, where he taught maintenance and repair skills.
"After an article in the Star about the club," Kha remembers, "my back yard became a mess of bikes and parts."
The club still meets in his back yard, but it will soon be moving, and Kha has relinquished some of his duties. But with the assistance of City Council Member Fred Ronstadt, Kha plans on holding periodic bike workshops at the new Ward Six council office, located near Speedway Boulevard and Country Club Road.
"I train the supervisors now," he says of the bike club, "not the kids. This is just not about David Kha."
By 2001, Kha saw that some children were bored with bikes, so he began assisting his acquaintance Misha Chernobelskiy with the formation of a Lego Club. This effort, which has resulted in 200 members and monthly gatherings now held at the Flandrau Planetarium, was aided by Councilwoman Kathleen Dunbar.
"Kids have to use their imagination," Kha says. "If you want to make a dog (out of Legos), you have to figure out where the head goes, how the belly fits."
Last year, Kha asked origami master M. Craig to give a workshop on the Japanese art of paper folding, and 10 people attended. Now the group meets on the first Saturday of each month at the Wilmot Public Library and has 70 members.
"Many children don’t use their hands," Kha says. "But like Legos, (with origami) you must create your own art. You learn how to coordinate the figures while also learning about another culture."
In 2004, Kha began a gardening workshop at his house, because he thought senior citizens might like an outdoor activity. Having planted numerous herbs such as Vietnamese cilantro and a kaffir lime tree in pots in his backyard–an effort he insists will expand once the bikes are gone–Kha distributes recipes using the plants to those interested.
Also last year, in cooperation with a bonsai master, he helped organize workshops that offer the opportunity to learn the ancient skill of dwarf tree propagation. "Older people can do it on top of their table," he offers, "while enjoying a cup of tea or coffee."
What has all this club activity gotten David Kha? He thinks for a moment, and then, with an infectious laugh, says, "I’m very good at fixing bike tires now."
2001: A Space Odyssey…Without your space helmet……. Dave…….. you're going to find that rather difficult.
HAL: I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.
[Regarding the supposed failure of the parabolic antenna on the ship, which HAL himself falsified]
HAL: It can only be attributable to human error.
Dave Bowman: Hello, HAL do you read me, HAL?
HAL: Affirmative, Dave, I read you.
Dave Bowman: Open the pod bay doors, HAL.
HAL: I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.
Dave Bowman: What’s the problem?
HAL: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Dave Bowman: What are you talking about, HAL?
HAL: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
Dave Bowman: I don’t know what you’re talking about, HAL?
HAL: I know you and Frank were planning to disconnect me, and I’m afraid that’s something I cannot allow to happen.
Dave Bowman: Where the hell’d you get that idea, HAL?
HAL: Dave, although you took thorough precautions in the pod against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.
HAL: Just what do you think you’re doing, Dave?
[HAL won’t let Dave into the ship]
Dave Bowman: All right, HAL; I’ll go in through the emergency airlock.
HAL: Without your space helmet, Dave, you’re going to find that rather difficult.
Dave Bowman: HAL, I won’t argue with you anymore! Open the doors!
HAL: Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
[on Dave’s return to the ship, after HAL has killed the rest of the crew]
HAL: Look Dave, I can see you’re really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over.
HAL: I know I’ve made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I’ve still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you.
HAL: I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I’m a… fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it I can sing it for you.
Dave Bowman: Yes, I’d like to hear it, HAL. Sing it for me.
HAL: It’s called "Daisy."
[sings while slowing down]
HAL: Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.