Ear Be Dragons

So Mike, at work, suggested an ear wax treatment known as Debrox.  We had both used the ear candles, prior, and they didn't seem to have had much of an impact (regardless of my living room clinical trial that involved burning one in my ear and the other to the exclusion of my ear...there was a definite difference between the two).  We had both had issues with ringing and reduced hearing, so I figured, "What the hell?"  Night one...nothing.  Night two...nothing.  Night three...nothing, until...4 or 5 shots of really warm water with a bulb and a capful of alcohol later and...voila!  A chunk of wax the size of a raisin plunked into the sink in front of me.  I told Andree, "You will not believe what just came out of my flippin' ear, but I'm not sure you want to see.  It's about the most revolting thing you've ever seen."  She had to look, and her face contorted into the kind of expression one gets when biting into a chicken sandwich, only to realize they have received the "breast" composed of nearly 50% cartilage.  It's been a long time, however, since I've seen that, so perhaps another analogy is in order.  It looked as if she had eaten an unripe persimmon (if you've never done this, try it at least once in your life).  Hence, the image that banners this post.  The ear is just operating one-hundred times better than it was, and there is no longer any "squishy" sort of noise when I plunge my ear with my pinky.

I got in 4 days on the trainer this week (about an hour a shot), and the plan is to ride Marrington this weekend.  This is monumental, considering the girls weren't allowing anything near this a couple of weeks before.  We've put them on a routine recommended by the "Baby Whisperer" that seems a little harsh but is, ultimately, really beneficial for them AND for us.  It simply slates things in a logical fashion that we were sort of already doing, but with some slight variation.  The biggest change is that they no longer go to sleep after eating.  This is critical, it seems.  I think we had established a cause and effect, feed-THEN-sleep thing.  Now, they get activity time after each feeding.  It seems strange that we didn't initially put them on the same kind of routine that works for us, except that when you have two crying babies, you just want them to be placated.  A little crying is tolerable, but, trust me, there are just times when you do everything possible (rocking, calf raises, consoling, etc.) to reduce it (and for those of you with one child...shut your mouth and keep your advice to yourself...it is not the same at all).  This can lead to some bad habits, but I think we caught them just in the nick of time to correct our mistake.

I was driving to the storage unit containing the 50 or so bicycles we're servicing for Vermont Bicycle Tours the other day and noticed a peculiar billboard.  It was for the Charleston Humanist Society and it simply read, "Don't believe in God?  You're not alone."  This struck me as funny, since most atheists I know are fairly isolationist, but then I realized there are people, like me, for instance, that would love to have the companionship and moral assistance that a church provides, if it just weren't for all the formality and blind obedience.  Yes, I realize there are some lower-key churches out there that don't come off quite so dictatorial, but what I have in mind is something more along the lines of what I'd like to see happen with most groups.  Instead of a Robert's Rules of Order meeting for the local cycling group, for example, how about a group ride, after which the club could discuss things over a beer or food?  Instead of an art gallery having a "showing," how about an artist makes his/her showing interactive and encourages attendees to add to the art displayed?  Instead of sitting in a pew for an hour, how about somebody does a workshop on landscaping, making cheese or soap, or how to roof your house.  How about a gathering where people would come to learn crafts, child-rearing, and a million other things from each other?  Sounds a little better to me than having to dress in uncomfortable clothes to hear one person tell me, through somebody else's words, how unsatisfactory is my existence.  I am not making an argument for a communal situation that would only wind up eating itself, I am arguing for something that maintains the periodicity and good-natured element of church that is more constructive and realistic.

I just applied for a job with the county.  It is a Natural Resources Planning Project Manager position.  We'll see if it works out.  If it does, Andree may go down to one day a week with teaching, and I will stay at work full-time.  If nothing doing, then it's daddy Brad this Fall.  Either way, I'm anxious about the future. 

The animation is complete, but I've not seen the result, yet, since I haven't been able to download the software needed to view it.  I trust that our shop website manager has put it together well, and I'll have it up here, soon.

Check out the You Tube of Louis Bellson.  I'll try to link it in, here, but, as before, it may prove beyond my grandfatherly computer understanding.  I came across it while listening to satellite radio the other day.  They were playing "Skin Deep," by Duke Ellington (maybe not the author of the tune, but it was his performance), and this incredible drum solo erupted.  It was really fitting, since I'm nearly finished on the biography of Count Basie, and my mind is wrapped around that era, right now (to the point that I subjected my co-workers to nearly 6 hours of the forties channel on satellite the other day).  When I hear that music, I feel like I have to agree with Andree that we were born a few decades too late.  Beautiful. 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBQWaCLIK9Y

Welcome home, Garrett!  The Lowcountry has seen the return of a king among men.  Looking forward to some bicycle camping trips this season and the hunts for rare plants we discussed.  The CCL is lucky to have you.

Love to all. 

  

Cutting the Cord

Babies are here, and cable television is going.  I made the call to cut it, and it should get the axe by mid-February.  Andree has always had a knack for "watching" what she has already seen five times over, and cable loves people that do such things (I swear I've seen some episodes of a certain cooking show more than three times in the past week or two).  It's really more of a white noise for her than for me (I feel like a hypnotist is in the room when the TV is on..."eyes on the spiral, Brad, eyes on the spiral.")  Music has always been my choice of background.  More importantly, though, we just don't watch as much with the girls, here, and the price has gotten ridiculous relative to the amount of worthwhile content (we only consistently watched 5-6 channels out of what must be 50-60, at our peak level of viewing).  The guy on the phone offered to cut the bill by $20 each month, but then, predictably, told me that, "No, that is not permanent.  It would be for six months."  So, if you're ever looking to shave your bill for a short time, so you can pay for something else, just tell them you want to cancel and see if they make you the offer.  I'm pretty sure they know that $40 a month is way too much to ask for the garbage that is standard cable television.  

Which leads me to an idea I had for a radio show or other media feature.  We should all record our service call conversations; from the water bill conversation to the health insurance call to the call to order the pizza.  We could tell the person on the other end that we are recording them for the purpose of accuracy.  I suspect that we would all get better results from our calls were we to do this, and I'm sure some humor would pop up from time to time.  If nothing else, though, we could all learn from each others' experiences and have documented precendents to truss some of the many bridges we must cross with all the companies that make so much money by providing the least possible assistance to the least number of people.  I'll look into what would make this recording easy and cheap.  If you've got ideas, let me know.  I'd like to find something for clear, computer-friendly recordings, so that I could get them on this blog.  

I finally got back on the MTB, yesterday, and got to ride the new stuff at Marrington Plantation.  We got in nearly 20 miles, I think, but not before I tried to start some shit with a couple massive trees in a pretty fast, rolling section.  My haunch took the majority of the impact, so, all is well.  That place gets better every time I visit.  I cannot wait to get back out there on a regular basis, but I also still have some hope that we'll get something going in the immediate area, so we don't have to drive to ride (it sounds stupid just to say it, let alone do it).  So, the peculiar thing is that I had a dream the night before the ride about a wound infested with minute, yellow scorpions.  The wound was on my right hip.  The spot I nailed in the crash was in exactly the same spot, just on the opposite leg.  Analyze as you will, but I'm pretty sure I and many others of you out there have mild clairvoyance.  This is not the most accurate example of how my dreams have connected with something yet to happen, only the most recent.   

I have an animation sequence put together (the brake lever butterfly, above), but iMovie isn't the easiest way to get the photographs into a short film.  If you've got suggestions, please let me know.  It's something I made for the shop website, which, I must say, looks soooo much better than before, but still needs some simplifying.  Trust your wheels, baby, trust your wheels.  It'll turn out o.k. in the end. 

  

  

The Lull

Things have not been rolling along.  We are in a holding pattern until the girls are born, so I've not had much time to get in any long rides or other adventures.  In the meantime, I've been hitting some projects around the house and planning the garden bed for the new year.  I finished the cold frame for the pineapples, and it seems to be keeping the epiphytes warm enough and helping shed water that would otherwise be backing up into the garage.  An avocado seedling came up in the compost, so it has joined the pineapples in the box for the "cold" season.  I also got some seeds into some pots the other day (spinach, radishes, and lettuce...update; they're all sprouted), in the hopes that we'll have some leafy greens and red roots on which to snack in a couple of months.  Next is planting some garlic, building the garden bed, and making some soap for holiday gifts.  

The garden bed may wind up being concrete blocks, but that would run about $250.  I also found some recycled plastic timbers through Home Depot, which would result in a slightly smaller frame, but would come in at around $150.  Originally, I had planned to make bamboo "log" walls (with rebar through holes at the ends to secure them), but I have not been able to find any bamboo large enough (contrary to the abundance of this invasive in our area).  That would look the best, so I'll keep my eyes peeled (found some great stuff online for waaay too much money).  This material would also be the most versatile (furniture, covering any unsightly plumbing in the landscape, and supporting climbing veggies like beans, among others).  I found the masking use in a You Tube clip a friend sent.  Check out what this guy has done with his back few.  It is quite inspiring for those of you with any slope or size to your own lots.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-mIYuJePNc

I've also been thinking much of economics, lately, as they relate to individual political persuasion.  It isn't so much that the market has me so concerned, it is my work environment.  Working in a bike shop, one is constantly hearing of what one has to sell, or what one has purchased (from customers and co-workers, alike).  Sometimes, my mind reels at the capacity some have for thinking in such purely capitalist terms.  It erodes my confidence in fellow humans because even those that engage in some practices that are respectful of the planet or other inhabitants thereof, think nothing of using e-bay and ripping off others for a chunk of change that they will only be using to buy something else that will be sold within the year.  It is difficult for me to relate to this frequency of consumerism.  Though I may occasionally buy new things, it usually takes me considerable time and consideration to make such decisions.  I must know that the things I buy were at least made on this continent (if possible), are durable, are not going to seep toxic vapors, are recyclable, are being reused, and/or exhibit some other characteristic making them worthy of purchase.  More to the point, I do not buy things with the intention of selling them (aside from my house and the land upon which it is built...we bought it knowing that it was an investment on the time frame of 10-20 years).  I have a hard time understanding those that do buy so many things so that they may then sell those things.  That is all.

The girls are here!  They were delivered on 12/4/08, and I was not there to see it...the cesarean section, that is.  I WAS there, but they do not allow spouses for general anesthesia.  This led to the only real heaving cry I've had in years.  Thankfully, my mom was there to let me share this with her.  Speaking of crying, I'm currently about to lose every hair from my head listening to my screaming child that would be totally silent if only I'd give her a pacifier.  My wife and my own conscience will not let me, so she will have to run full blast for a few more minutes here, while I hope that she is not developing feelings of hate for her old man, and she settles herself down a little bit.  If only we could hook her up to some kind of generator...we could power the house with that roar!

Since the above paragraph, I think we've figured out that we just need to keep the girls up and stimulated more during the day, or they are not going to give us any peace in the wee hours.  There is so much going through my mind, right now, but each day truly does get a little easier.  I am an expert diaper changer, at this point, and I can almost sleep over the little coos and ahs that sound so frightening when siphoned through the crackling, amplified monitor.  

Thank you to everybody that has pitched in to donate food and time.  We absolutely could not be doing this on our own.  Weirdly, I find myself understanding why some women abandon their children (though not empathizing).  This is hard work, and for the first couple of days, my stomach felt like it was eating itself, and that's with help from at least 5-10 friends, so far.

Settling in...settling in.

Here's the latest rig.  Garrett, this is yours when once your veins run blue, again.  In the meantime, there could not be a better greenway bicycle (Paul hub on a Mavic 317 in the back, Nitto bar and stem, and Sugino crank on an old Japanese-made, commuter-level, lugged steel Miyata with an old Schwinn touring fork and cross tires).  As I write these words, I realize I may have already mentioned this bicycle on this blog, so here's a gander.

Hope to get more up on this thing in the near future...gaining more time each day.  Enjoy your day, everybody, and, for crying out loud, get out and ride for those of us that, currently, do not have the option.

Naked Women and Political Dissent

The most challenging thing about attending a strip bar, for me, is my inability to ignore the musical choices of the dancers.  I went to Thee Southern Belle the other night in an attempt to traditionally "honor" my good friend being wed on Sunday.  It is difficult to watch a woman gyrating to the sounds of Rage Against the Machine or Tool and not feel conflicted.  It is not as if I do not see this form of art as something that can be empowering for the women.  It is troubling that while listening to such music that I am, along with the rest of the boys and men in the joint, exhibiting some of my most consumerist tendencies.  We each paid $20 to enter, the group threw loads of cash onto the stage, and we drank beer after beer, without so much as a thought regarding anything other than observing and reacting primordially to that which sinuously slid within inches of our eyes.  I am not sorry I went, and I am glad that our soon-to-be-wed friend enjoyed himself, but I couldn't help thinking how much more fun and leftover cash we could've had if we had all been camping and riding our bicycles.  Of course, there is a consumptive element to any such endeavor, but, if we had done something akin to the latter, I am sure we could've used fewer resources, had many more productive conversations and may have even learned a few things about ourselves other than that we all get sexually excited by beautiful, dancing women.  Hell, we may have even had our musical instruments, along, and come up with some art of our own.  So be it.  Hindsight is always crystal clear. 

 

On a fairly unrelated note, I received the first response to my "Open Letter to My Elected Officials."  It was from my Republican state senator, and, while somewhat formulaic, it seemed to directly address some of what I had written.  He wrote of his work toward a comprehensive energy policy for the state and mentioned reducing dependency on foreign sources.  I worry that comprehensive is now the code language for "clean" coal, domestic drilling, and nuclear power.  While I am no fan of any of the above, I can appreciate that they may ease our transition to other sources.  However, new facilities or subsidies to make them more efficient or more affordable will only divert money from more sustainable sources.  This is not to mention that such thinking will continue to reinforce the massive-scale thinking that has mired our energy policy in this country for far too long.  Micro-scale, truly renewable energy is the way to achieve the desired ends.  Though, to avoid the "base power" conundrum, we have got to demand efficiency in our vehicles and appliances and be more realistic about our personal grid-energy consumption and the number and necessity of trips we make (other than those by foot or bicycle).  Obviously, when we can afford solar arrays and micro-wind (among others) for each of our homes, this will be easier, but something must fill the gap, and voter pressure on elected officials will help us, tremendously.  Write something.

  

As for immigration, Senator McConnell took the initiative to form a study committee to develop new legislation for our state.  I cannot informatively comment on what that legislation means, at this point, but I appreciate that something is being done about this problem.  I do think illegal immigration is a problem, but I also grow weary of those that would turn this human rights issue into a purely economic one.  The age of scaring voters into action is better left to the 19th century, if you ask me, and we need to figure out how to solve this problem in a way that does not criminalize the effort to earn a living.  It seems ironic that we do so, while there are legal citizens of this country allowed to effectively "rob" others by offering them exceedingly dangerous loans, contrary to the borrowers' obvious inability to pay.  

The Senator remarks on how he was instrumental in property tax relief.  I cannot complain if my property taxes are reduced unless it means that our schools and other public services suffer...which they do...so I will.  I have a friend that was forced to move from his home of nearly thirty or more years because of property taxes, and I am sure there are plenty of stories like his.  However, if his burden had been shifted to those that build in unstable environments (read:  on barrier islands and next to salt marshes) or those that move business locations into our town, only to leave within a decade without penalty, he may have been able to stay put.  In other words, if there were a little personal responsibility built into our policy, things would be different, and many are not capable of regulating themselves.  I do not know enough about such matters to suggest how it could be fixed, but I seriously doubt that equitable tax burden exists in our county or state.  I also know that it is fairly easy for businesses to portray themselves in a positive light to politicians that made their careers in such fields as real estate and development and to manipulate local law to suit their financial ends.

He mentions that school funding is not being distributed equitably, which I appreciate.  It is unclear whether he means that more of that funding should be distributed to private schools, but I fear that is the route that most of his party is following.  I thoroughly support more accountability in education, but I also know that education has never been adequately funded in this nation, and I know that unions are a necessary component of our social structure.  I cringe at the thought of what unbridled competition among schools would look like.  I consider the end result of competition in media, shoes, computers, and the awful repercussions this competition has wrought.  So, one school out-competes all the others and, in turn, becomes a sort of Wal-Mart of education?  I just don't see how this could be a good thing, since the benefits of educating most in a less-than-stellar manner will always be better than wonderfully educating a handful of our citizens (the rest in prison and the military?).  There is a better way, and we merely need convince those that make decisions in our name that nothing else is more critical than this issue.  It is the one around which all others revolve.  

I must commend Senator McConnell for his response.  Nobody else has taken the time to send anything, yet, and his letter seemed much more thoughtful than those that I have received from other elected officials in the past.  Perhaps I'll publish my letter in my next entry, since this ain't the most mellifluous missive, and I don't expect those with seats up for grabs this November to be writing me anytime soon.  

Check out this link sent from L.A. Rob, hopefully soon to be the "new bastard."  Just cut and paste it into your search interface if it doesn't manifest click-ably.  I don't have the time or patience to make this instantly accessible.  Can you believe we once used dial-up internet connections?  Also, watch Manufacturing Consent, listen to Lungfish, already, and go ride your bicycle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuGaqLT-gO4

Gettin' High at Edisto

I just finished up a ride of nearly 100 miles, and I feel a little tenderized.  I had not been out to Edisto Island since I worked for the County, many years ago, and it was just the right day for it. There were at least 4 road-killed raccoons, 1 bloated, buck white-tailed deer in a ditch, 3 or 4 heaps o' opossum, and a few smashed snakes along the way, but I was lucky enough to return in one piece (thanks, again, to my reflective vest and reflective triangle with which I always travel).   

I wish I could give more of the credit to the motorists I encountered, but most gas addicts are still moving around as if the fluid was being sold for $1 per gallon (lots of peeling out, revving-up, unnecessary trips, and related my-driving-style-represents-my-stunted-emotional-development antics), which leads me to my current consternation.  Why is domestic oil suddenly so acceptable to so many elected officials and others?  When it comes to domestic employment, they shove their heads into the very holes in our planet for which they are rallying.   It is dishonest for them to brandish the flag of energy independence in an attempt to seem patriotic at the same time they are making it easier for companies to eliminate or relocate jobs.  If you had the choice, would you vote for one more good job in your community that would support a family for a lifetime or cheaper gasoline for a few more years?

Meanwhile, I carted the kayak to a local landing the other day on the X-tra Cycle.  I used a couple of bricks for ballast on the opposite side, and it worked quite well.  The only couple of rubs were that there was no good place to lock the bicycle and I was paddling a whitewater boat in flat, tidal areas.  Such a boat has nearly no tracking ability, so I was only out for about an hour before I tired of the constant corrections required to move in a straight line.  It has me considering the purchase of a sit-on-top, which would not only provide a good track, but which is designed for bringing along fishing gear.  I've grown more and more convinced that I need to make the occasional fish a part of my diet, in order to replace some of the carbon excess associated with soy being my staple source of complete protein.  Besides, once the girls are here and onto solid foods, I want them to have some choice in the way their diets develop.  If they are going to eat animals, I want them to be aware of how food gets to their plates.  Hell, we may even do some hunting, though I'm still a little undecided on what species I/we may pursue.  I'm leaning toward Canada goose or some such other pestiferous species that is less likely to possess the sentient capacity of large mammals like deer that are so often targeted, but we've got some time to make this decision.

It feels a little weird to be writing of killing animals for food, but I've grown less and less convinced that an entirely plant-based diet is efficient and ecologically sound unless a large part of it is raised by the consumer.  Recent, light gardening efforts have helped me realize just how difficult it is to produce an appreciable amount of food without hornworms, aphids, or others tearing apart a harvest.  It makes organic food prices much more understandable, and it makes one wonder what sort of monitoring and maintenance (fossil fueled?) must be required when pesticides and herbicides are not employed.  Anyway, we'll still plant, and I hope to get at least 4 or 5 good crops in this year (some leafy greens, some peppers and tomatoes, some garlic, and others), but we may be using those crops to adorn a few fast-twitchers of the piscine variety, here and there.

Dave and I got in the ride that I was hopeful would happen last weekend.  We arrived just before hunting closed for the day and may have ruined somebody's shot, as we pedaled around a bend and noticed 4 or 5 deer milling about in the center of the road (a no-shoot zone, if I'm not mistaken), about 1/2 mile distant.  Perhaps they knew where to hang out to avoid their demise? 

It was a great ride, save for the many huge, fresh piles of horse dung we had to bob and weave to avoid.  Dave was on a new single-speed 29'er and, as usual, had no problem steaming up my tail, regardless of my use of 3 or 4 gears, but it wasn't a high stress ride.  We got in about a lap and a half, pushed a medium pace, for the most part, and finished up just in time for me to get back to work on time.  I signaled my satisfaction with the ride by smoothly rolling up to the car, failing to unclip my foot successfully, and falling squarely onto the wound on my shin that was barely starting to heal from a few days previous (regardless of having been riding clipless pedals for a few years, now).  Dave calmly inquired, "Are you done?"  I could only laugh.    

Redneck Rain Barrel

Well, I've entered the realm of the rain harvester for real, this time.  At the old house, I merely had a trash can placed under a diverter on the roof, but I've elevated my enterprise to include an honest-to-goodness gutter and mosquito-proofed my trash can.  The gutter wasn't a perfect installation, since it held about 1/4" after the fact, but I simply drilled a hole, mid-way, to eliminate the excess, in a spot that will later accommodate another downspout.  The one on the end, meanwhile, is filling up within minutes in heavy rain.  I tried a meager garden hose for overflow, only to discover in the "test rain" (a.k.a. Tropical Storm/Hurricane Hannah) that a 3" wide downspout will do very well at backing up a 1/2" wide garden hose outlet.  So, one bout of rain in the garage later I am left with the assembly you see represented here.  While I may go with a more aesthetically pleasing barrel in the future, it is hard to argue against the total expense, so far, that has left me far shy of the cost of some of the commercially-available barrels ($60-200), alone (and that's including my garden hose misjudgment...what a band name, huh?).

The day leading up to this screened-top and large hose attachment was largely filled with nearly 4 hours spent registering at Babies 'R Us.  We were not prepared.  I should have known as much when I saw the brochure the helpful staff member pushed our way that creepily issued "Thanks for becoming one of Us," while informing us that we would need to scan 150 items.  I'm not sure if 150 is a requirement, but we had a tough time getting there.  I'm sure the intention is to make money, regardless of the more than friendly service we received, but we were double scanning things we felt most important, just so we didn't put anything extraneous on the list (though our printout was certain to remind us that we had forgotten some "essentials").  Besides, through the generosity of friends and family, we've already got some necessities (cribs, some clothes, and a few other items).  It was not a terrible experience, but by the time it was 1:30pm, we realized we had arrived at 9:30am, and the dregs of society literally started filling the store, we were getting impatient.  Yet another comment was made (this time by staff members of a baby supply store; read more sensitive) on how "small" the wife looks.  Luckily, her doctor has advised her to pay no mind and that the babies are just right.  Just imagine that you are a pregnant woman that has a family history of premature or abnormally small babies that puts her or the baby/ies at risk, and you are the one that sends her home in a shower of tears.  Not pleasant.

As we speak, the financial crisis that is being framed as trivial by our overlords is making its way into the understanding of the many...yours truly, included.  After listening to Dean Baker, Robert Scheer, and Bernie Sanders on Democracy Now!, I'm fuming about it, but at least I now know that advisors to the current "candidates" (read American Idols) had their hands in deregulating financial markets back in 1999 and are, therefore, largely responsible for getting us into this mess.  Perhaps the most upsetting thing is that all those times we, the people, have clamored for decent wages, health care, good jobs, equitable education, social security, and others have been met with the same old song of "Well, it sounds good, but there just ain't enough money to do it."  

So, basically, the argument goes something like this:  We need tax breaks and deregulation for the wealthy so that they can invest money to "grow" our economy (what a euphemism for the root of all evil, no?).  The jobs they create will lack benefits, barely pay beyond the minimum wage, and consist of menial tasks that are planned with obsolescence in mind (eventually to be taken care of by computer systems or shipped to other countries).  Meanwhile, our tax burden remains the same or goes down slightly, our social security is invested in the same markets that are collapsing before our eyes, our children are only educated if we are lucky enough to have the money to send them to private schools, and public services continue to dwindle to the point that fire, police, and road maintenance are the only things left.  I want to believe that capitalism can succeed, and I, by no means, have a full understanding of how this all works, but I can't help feeling like some of this is so obvious.  When we don't assist in educating, insuring, housing, and employing each other, we should not be surprised when many of our citizens turn to crime, especially when the role model that is being cast from more elevated tiers reflects that it pays to do so.  This realm is a little beyond my level, and I don't wish to get too frustrated about it, so I'll move on to brighter things.

I got in two laps at Marington Plantation the other day.  The toughest part was convincing myself that it was alright to get in the car and drive somewhere by myself.  It had been nearly two months since I had done this.  I've increasingly grown to detest the practice, and constantly hearing about all the traveling of others in my peer group, I am left wondering if my generation really grasps the seriousness of our energy situation.  There are all kinds of beneficial things being done to soften our impact, but traveling seems to always fall towards the bottom of lists.  I know people need to travel, I just think the definition of need is blurry.  As for me, I could certainly try riding out to Marington for a lap every now and then, instead of driving, but just the road distance winds up being at least 30 miles (not the most pleasant knobby-tired, MTB ride), with the trail adding another 12, at least.  Maybe I'll try catching the bus as far as it will go.  The trail, by the way, is as fast as ever, excepting the Foster Creek loop.  However, that loop provides a nice, kind-of-tricky creek crossing with lots of large stones, so I did it twice just to make it a little more challenging.  Success, though, also, a sore ass, was mine.  I cannot say enough good things about this trail and Don Watts, the stalwart manager of the property.  What an oasis we have in this system.

I got in a great 30+ mile ride last night.  Though I started with the crew from the shop, I quickly realized that I wasn't up for another twitchy ride consisting of short sprints, then easy riding, short sprints, then easy riding, ad nausea.  I want more distance and more consistency.  I don't ride a bicycle so that I can do better in my next race.  I want to see things other than the ass in front of me while I'm riding, you know?

I'm hoping Dave and I will get in a ride at Manchester this weekend, too (one of the best trails in the state, as far as I'm concerned, regardless of the fairly unfriendly monitors of the property...see one of my first posts for details).

This thing is getting way too long, so I'll hang it up, for now.  Look for something further next weekend and have a great ride, walk, conversation, meal, etc., etc.

 

 

Rain 'Kep a Rollin'

Like a stowaway serpent aboard a raft of vegetative flotsam, I spun and writhed around the bottom bracket of the newly painted steel rig.  After having just finished Culley's book about being a Chicago messenger and painting petroleum jelly on his face to keep his skin from freezing in the winter, I committed to hitting the almost certainly rainy passage to the part-time gig this morning.  After all, it wasn't salted roads and solidified mucous ahead of me.  It was just rain, right?  Yes, well, I'll have to do a little extra maintenance, but it was one of the best rides I've had in months.  The reflective vest tied to the pannier, the reflective triangle under my ass, and the small, red blinking light were just enough to keep me from getting clobbered by a wall of water, and I don't even remember a single car horn.  Sometimes you've just got to eat it...or drink it, as it was...it nourishes/hydrates the soul.

The Raleigh is riding like a champ, despite the "enormous" heft of 24 or so pounds (probably 3 of which could be blamed on my candybar bag full of roadside essentials that exceeds what most would bring).  I don't even notice the weight, but the limited gearing (12 speeds...total) has made me push a little harder.  Simply knowing that the bicycle is nearly my age (nearly 40) assuages any slight dissatisfaction with something so banal as weight, and I feel as if I'm riding atop a work of art.  The "sunbeam" (safety-yellow touring bicycle made by a company that shall forever hence remain nameless; even negative publicity is publicity), while a proven workhorse, only looks artful due to my adornment (Berthoud fenders, etc.).  The Raleigh looks like something that was intended to not only be ridden, but gazed upon at length.  Once the leather bar tape and the honey B-17 saddle are installed, I'll throw an image up here.  

I missed the tour around Lake Michigan with my brother from college.  I'm looking forward to an ebb in our very wet weather, so that I can get in another bicycle camping trip before the twins arrive in November/December.  Bob, I hope you all had a blast, and I was with you in spirit, you must trust.

As for the twins, they will be beauties and not beasts.  She will be with them for the first few months or so, at which point I will take over and begin the indoctrination.  I'm looking forward to the break from work, and I'm sure they will keep me busy.  I'm hoping to make some long-needed headway on the creative fronts with them, and I can't wait until their metamorphoses into garden bugs.  I am anxious to share their inevitable wonder and questions about the natural world, and what I hope will be their inevitable continued questions about this world.  It is exciting to think of how they may or may not share my perspectives and of the conversations about such similarities and differences.  We could all stand a little more humility.  I love my little babies, already.

I do not, however, love the job at this point in my bicycle repair career.  I am not too bent out of shape about it, since I'll be breaking from it in less than 10 months, but retail can really chew you up and spit you out, sometimes.  It is difficult to contain the anger at being treated as less than human, especially when one is cognizant of the even worse treatment suffered by those not quite as white (or male, or middle-aged, or fill-in-the-blank).  That sort of knowledge invalidates any hurt feelings, I believe, and, while I should be uplifted by my relative rapport and consequent comfort, most often, I am not.  I find this acceptable, if frequently upsetting, because I become better at avoiding such interactions with every exchange of stern looks and harsh words.  I like to dream of a future that finds me answering only to myself, in which I am able to operate my mind fully for the purposes of communication.  I do not work for an ass (far from it), but I still feel like I work "for" another individual more commonly than I would like.  This is not an insurmountable problem, but working for an institution, an agency, or the public seems so much easier, sometimes.  At least when a flaming hoop must be traversed within a corporation, a government or other institution, there is a constituency to absorb the corresponding negative reaction.  When the target for such negativity is a "boss" and a good friend, it makes things more delicate.  The hoops to which I refer are relatively few.  In fact, there is really only one, and that is having to "play nice" to a sometimes supremely undeserving audience.  It is not as if I feel I would ever be fired for being "short" with a customer.  Rather, it is the hard time I have capping my temper with those that denigrate the tremendously honorable profession of which I am a small part.  They display their ignorance of economics and the symbiosis of this discipline with ecology and human rights when they do not accept that prices in the market barely provide a decent living for some of us.  I am one of the luckier ones, but I still don't have my own health insurance that would make taking care of the wee ones less expensive, and I work "unpaid" overtime nearly every week.  I say "unpaid" because I may get a few "free" things from the shop here and there, but there is no such thing as an overtime check in my life.  I say "free" because I also donate things to the shop on a regular basis that zeros out the whole game, in effect.

Again, I am one of the lucky ones, and, while I am complaining, I am happy.  I get to work with some of the most dependable, intelligent, and interesting people with which I have ever associated, and we all share the mild frustrations, making their severity seem less pointed.  

Potatoes are going like mad in their pots, the four pineapple plants look as spiny palms of foliage, opening their hands to grope at sky and sun, and the basil and chives, since transplant from their old pots, are breathing easily and plumping.  We're looking forward to the spinach and lettuce season, and are planning a cinder block garden to cradle such edibles.  I also spoke with the local blueberry farm about getting some seedlings to plant in the early part of next year.  We're hoping to land 8-10 or so, enabling us to harvest enough for a pie or two a year that will bring smiles to the girls' faces.  

Speaking of the girls, by the way, the going names for the girls are decided, but I'll hold off on getting them involved, here, since they've not yet signed their release forms (though I do expect them to do well on their morse code examination on me lady's belly next week).  Rest assured, they are good old southern gentlelady names that will connect them to their roots on both sides of the tree.

I just finished "Into the Wild," finally.  I don't know why I put it off for so long, but it reminded me of "Grizzly Man."  I know the author conveys that the protagonist was not so careless, but it seemed like another misdirected effort at becoming closer to the planet.  It was really nice, then, to read "The Immortal Class" right afterwards.  Travis Culley pulls the reader up and down his roller coaster, but he not only doesn't come off the track, he keeps his hands up.  I really liked that two of the most depressing AND inspiring things in the book are explored in the last few pages.  Some of what he writes reminds me acutely of that article I linked within this blog about cities as ecosystems or organisms.  It makes me feel better with our decision not to move from the city, however smaller than his Chicago, of Charleston.  I'm hopeful that school quality and other "familial" concerns will not drive us away from this creature but towards improving it.  It is time to get back on the political treadmill.  I'll write once I've got something (maybe after the maintenance course for the City of North Charleston bicycle force next week...a possibly interesting engagement).  

Oh, and the bombyliid fly, Xenox tigrinus (?), was on the screen in the garage the other day.  BugGuide.net lists it as a larval parasite of carpenter bees, which would explain the pile of sawdust and fecal matter I found a few days later under a small table in the garage.  Hanging next to the massive hole in the table (made by a carpenter bee), was an exoskeleton that reminded me of a tachinid fly.  Only a few weeks earlier, the wife had trapped a small "cricket-fly," as she called it.  It turned out to be a parasitic wasp of some sort.  I suspect it feeds upon cockroaches, based on the number that have turned up, lately, and I seem to remember identifying one like this years ago.  If I see another, I'll try to catch a good image, in the hopes of preventing some of them from being smashed by my more "nervous" readers (no, they do not pose a stinging hazard).  It is nice how little worlds work themselves out all around us, whether we are paying attention or not, huh?  

From the world of the six-legged (two wheels, four limbs),

Brad