Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Doing Stupid Stuff






This is way too long in coming, but I felt compelled to put one up, since Christopher recently made a rather offensive comment.  He stated that I implied taking care of children is work for women, only.  I did nothing of the sort.  I am a man.  I am taking care of twin babies.  Sometimes taking care of children can make one (man or woman) think negatively about that situation.  It is the hardest thing you will ever do...ever...in your life.  Physical and normal mental exertion has nothing on this emotional roller coaster, and it is more difficult the more you love the children because every moment is another opportunity to be teaching something or demonstrating a good or bad habit.  I cannot be held responsible for reader interpretation of what I offer, here.  I can only hope that most readers know me better than to make such an incorrect assumption about my gender politics. 

So a friend got a rear Mavic R-Sys wheel replaced, free of charge, because there was a recall on the front wheel of his set.  In an effort to convince our staff of the durability of the new version of this wheel set, the representative from the company not only stood upon one of these wheels in their presence, he was said to have bounced upon it.  I couldn't believe that such a wheel (with carbon spokes on the non-drive side) would put up with such an affront, so, the evening of a co-worker's going away get-together, I decided to confirm my suspicions.  Sure enough, the wheel made the most awful creaking and cracking noises one would ever want to hear while standing on a $400 wheel and after dismounting one of the carbon spokes was found to be completely cracked, lengthwise.  Well, my co-workers had a good time witnessing my test, and I will never trust a company rep, again (though, it should be pointed out that my co-workers forgot to mention that the wheel the rep tested was the new version of the wheel...I, without knowledge, was testing the older, weaker version).  Whatever...I should've known better, even after consuming those 4 or 5 beers.  I ordered a new wheel for my friend two days later, and I'll have to get some replacement spokes for the old one and claim it for myself as a really nice spare.

The Traffic Skills 101 class went fairly well, though I will not be teaching another class with my attorney friend that assisted me.  While I still consider him a good friend, he, being predictably overworked, tossed the whole thing my way and helped very little in the preparation.  Of course, the day of the class, he had a million things to say, so the schedule I had envisioned quickly evaporated.  The worst part, however, was trying to teach two total beginners in a class with 7 others that were very well-seasoned bicyclists (the Executive Director of the local advocacy organization, a Paris-Brest-Paris veteran, a 30-mile-a-day commuter, etc.).  That is the one thing I would change in the future, though, I think I'll also opt for teaching solo and reducing the maximum number of participants.  One participant slammed us in the feedback, but I have a feeling he was just angry that he couldn't understand one of the questions on the written exam and that the course was not more geared to his experience level, rather than to that of EVERY participant.  He made some good points, but they were not things that I did not consider before we even started the course.  The trouble was that I was forced to change things or spend more or less time on certain topics due to the spontaneity of the group discussions.  I was just a little rusty on my teaching technique, I guess, and teaching with somebody I admire was difficult when it turned out that we were sort of competing for speaking time.  

We just went for the annual pancake T-Giving ride from the downtown shop, even though I "threw out" my back the other day.  I'm not sure what that means, I just know that I was moving a pineapple inside for the cold season, and when I twisted to rise with it, I felt a shooting pain through my spine and collapsed onto the porch.  It was enough for Andree to take off a couple of days from work to help.  The 40 miles this morning, however, seems to have really helped.  We'll see tomorrow morning, I guess (update:  ride a bicycle if you "throw your back out"...it seems to have really, really improved with each ride since).

The photos are a yellow-rumped warbler that flew into the sliding glass door, a ladybird beetle that was looking to warm up (I guess) on the top of the garbage can, and some bird's nest fungus that came up in a pot.  The 2 shirt images are things I've got in the frames right now.  If you want one, send me a shirt (1628 Sanford Rd., Charleston, SC,  29407), soon, since I'm going to be doing a couple of others in the next month or so. 

Lastly, in the customer service department, Moen recently sent me parts that probably would've amounted to $50 or so for a kitchen faucet that I did not purchase but that had a limited lifetime warranty.  There was a small leak, but replacing the cartridge valve did not fix it, so they sent me a handle connector kit and a new hose and vacuum breaker, as well.  The leak is gone, and I am reminded that there are good companies out there, still.  I think it's really cool that they helped me get the old girl (easy, Christopher, it's a term of endearment) running again and that I didn't have to go and buy a new one, only to throw the old one into a landfill (though I probably would've held onto the parts for a few years, first...I'm quite the pack rat when it comes to such things).

I've got some rye bread in the oven and the girls are waking up, so I'll hang it up, for now.

Oh, and for those of you that do group rides or race...enjoy these
 

1 comment:

Christopher said...

I think if you reread your earlier post, you can see that the similarities to Jack Butler/Mr. Mom are pretty clear. I don't dispute the fact that, in spite of using mawkish phrases like "old girl," you're probably on the level. Guess I can be touchy about referring to women (directly or indirectly, as with your weak "woman's work" comedy) like it's the 1860s.