Inane Frown Posse

I am the inane, and I wear the frown. I have been mired in a state that has included only anger and apathy for a long time, now, and there are only a few things slowly pulling me from the muck. Knowing that holidays are imminent, and, hence, so is real vacation time with Andree and the girls is the big one.

I've never felt so overwhelmed by a job before in my life, and I attempted to explain why, last night, over some beer and tempeh, to my "supervisors." I don't think they got it. It wheeled around my thought that this job (any job requiring daily interaction with the general public, for that matter) should mean more. I consider myself a devout, albeit camouflaged, optimist, and I never let a day pass that I don't expect reason or higher thought of some kind from those that enter the shop. I was met with a comment about projecting negativity and, therefore, readily finding it in others, but I don't buy that. My job is to fix bicycles, sell bicycles, answer questions, and promote the industry and lifestyle. It is not to be nice, and, honestly, I am almost always immediately distrustful of and annoyed by those at other businesses that paint the sugar on too thick. My ideal shopping experience, anywhere, is successful if two things happen. First, the product I'm looking for is in stock or I am informed that it can be obtained for me within x number of days and I am called when it arrives. Second, if I need help, somebody with appropriate knowledge is available to provide that help. I don't give two shits if the person is smiling or pissed when they help. I realize that we are all humans, and we all have bad days/weeks/months sometimes. Saying nicely that you have no idea or that you cannot help is worthless.

Yes, that's pretty negative stuff, but I find the little moments every day that chip away at that monolith. Right now, for example, the girls are singing themselves to sleep, Andree and I have bellies full of channa masala, malai kofta, and naan, and I don't have to be to work until 12pm tomorrow. Oh, and there's this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2PlAUzAFIU

and this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT8h4UmuN1Q&feature=grec_index

and this:

http://jamisbikes.com/usa/thebikes/hardtails/dragon/12_dragon29race.html

The final one is the bike that I'll be ordering next week. It took a long time to make this decision, since I have a pretty functional mountain rig, but I know it will make me ride more, and I know I will enjoy riding it more than the old 26. Besides, I feel good that I didn't flake out and buy a new, carbon featherweight for the road. I persisted with the old 1987 Schwinn Circuit and here is the result:

It is Campagnolo Centaur, which I have grown very fond of in only 5 or 6 rides, mated with some classic complements and a workhorse wheelset (240's and Open Pros). I'll probably still tweak a few things, but it rides very smoothly, even if it does have a little flex and spring to it (which is really more of a benefit than a detriment).

As usual with this blog, almost everything above was written at least a few weeks ago, and only a few things have changed. I still don't feel like Andree and I have much of a relationship as a couple, these days, though I think that is more largely due to the girls of late than the job, as it was for most of this year...it's now been almost 7 months of continuous full-time employment with a 3-day break around the end of July and a 2-day break, just now, for T-Giving. The job is shaping up, nicely, of late, since we're finally getting the time to cull all the crap that 8 years and 2 bike shops can accumulate. I still think we're overworked, but at least we're not underpaid for our efforts.

The job is my only creative outlet, I've realized, which is kind of cool and kind of sad. I used to play lots of guitar, build lots of things, and even paint and draw lots of things. Perhaps the new year will avail more time for some of that. My co-worker, after all, is a really accomplished musician, and he is somebody with whom I share many interests. I'm glad he and I are getting the chance to attend a Park Tool Summit in Atlanta at the end of January. It'll be a nice break with somebody that appreciates at what volume Sleep should be listened to while traveling. If such excursions do not provide more creative output, I take heart, since I think the girls might be headed for full-time school next Fall.

As for the bikes mentioned above...the Dragon is trouncing my old 631 Dakota from the same company. I feel way more stable on corners, just as able to throw the whole thing around when needed, more confident with creek crossings and related obstacles, and my ass and back haven't given me any protests, even with our root-laden (but still awesome), local trail.

The Schwinn is nearly perfect. I need only replace my stem with one that I can get up slightly higher than the one I have, and I'll be happy. It has served me well on many rides, so far, and the 130mm wheel in the 126mm frame is not an issue at all. I'm happy with the Campagnolo I chose, but it is Powertorque Centaur, so I'll have to buy a cheap gear-puller for when I yank the crank and grease the spline (something I think is already necessary, since I've got an annoying little creak that I can't pin down...yes...it may be the BB cups, since I chased them after the powder-coating, but they come coated with some kind of locking compound already on them, so I doubt it).

Politically, I kind of feel like we're living in an alternate universe, lately, with what the Republicans are putting out there. I'm staying centered by reading a biography about Nader that is surprisingly inspiring (not because he wasn't inspiring, but because I forgot what that felt like). More on this realm, later, since I don't see any point in making more of a spectacle out of what are already annoyingly ignorant humanoids.

Keep your ears on, and I'll get some more photographs up here, soon. We've been solid on Tuesday night MTB rides for the past 5 or 6 weeks, so maybe something on that note, though the weather is producing some pretty things, lately, too, and we've already reserved a cabin for a post-x-mas trip to the hills.

Love,

B

The Big Lull

It's been a long, long time. I raced in Florida, the girls are much bigger, precocious, and adorable, and we've just been through a whirlwind of bicycle advocacy. The job scene is still very dismal, with little hope on the Interpretation front, and a shop that may or may not be realizing the mistakes of the past and what needs to happen for future success.

The 12 Hours of Santos was a blast...or should I say a wash? I flatted twice within five minutes on my third lap and seized my quadriceps on the sixth. I had never experienced muscle failure in my legs, before, and I don't plan on it happening again. I had to use my bicycle as a crutch to push myself off the trail and out of the way of other riders. It was quite pathetic. Anyway, I just quit. I didn't see any reason to wait out the regeneration of overly stressed muscles that needed more than a few minutes rest and a little food. The fact is that I just didn't train at all for it, this year. It didn't help that we rode some of the other trails in the area for a couple of hours the day before. I thought that this would help me get warmed up, but it just produced a dramatic and slightly painful front flip over the handlebars and some slightly sore legs on race day. Here's a glimpse of what southern FL has to offer...you'd be surprised...enjoy the soundtrack these guys rocked. I especially like that somebody commented that the videographer "made it look easy," with all the deadbeats on the side of the trail and crashing in front of him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Om9FS3NJKeA&feature=related

In the hopes of conquering this demon, I spent the first few months after the race riding downtown and running 9 flights of stairs 20 or more times, with push-ups at the top. I'm really committed to nailing this next year. Ever since, I've been hitting most Tuesdays and Thursdays with the local group rides, with some Sunday mornings thrown in for good measure, though the work-outs are still just barely getting ramped back up. I've had a really bum last month or so, mostly because I'm not riding anything capable of keeping me with everybody on the road, and I've got a couple of puds for riding partners that are forever canceling on plans to hit the trails. The next plan is to start running with Mark from the shop, since he's dependable and does the kind of distance in which I need to involve myself (his trail runs are 15-20 miles). I've done more than a few 13 milers on the greenway, and I'm sure having a change of scenery and not having to do out-and-backs will motivate.

So, all of the above was written fairly long ago, and the shop is now closing. We will, most likely, wind up with a new, well-funded, and surprisingly young owner, which is neither here nor there. At this point, I could give two poops, since the girls need a daddy with a solid job, and we've signed them up for two days of daycare each week for Fall (partly for their own benefit, partly for ours). I'm one of two former employees with a paying job, and I couldn't care less about the future of the shop, as long as it is about providing real bikes for real people. I am truly at the end of my wits with those that think gluing tubular tires or flushing disc brakes should be same-day services in a shop that truly (and obviously) services every kind of rider out there, not just those with overpriced wagons and fat wallets...fucking idiots.

I've been lightly engaged on the road, recently, and I've been doing it on an old, lugged, steel, Taiwanese, DiamondBack. I finally got the Schwinn Circuit powdercoated (for $100), but I've yet to get a new group for it (I'm probably going to go with Ultegra, even though Athena was attractive...I've just not become a fan of practically removing my hand from the bar to shift the other direction on the Camp stuff). Yes, I know, the price is right with an employee deal and the Italian stuff is rebuildable, but Shimano is just so much more intuitive.

Fuck knows where things are going, but it was good to see you still creeping on the blog, Christopher. It's more than I can say for some of my other old friends that I anticipated would've commented by now and jostled me out of my "literary" funk. Things have been overwhelming the past 6 months or so, and I appreciate any of you that are even still occasionally checking this thing to see where the Jaynes' are headed. I could get in to the fact that we've had two termite swarms in the house, and how funny/absolutely infuriating it is to deal with pest control employees that don't know that you went to graduate school to study forest insects ("Are you sure they're termites, sir?") and to get a contractor to assess the damage done. I could also get in to how much fun it is to forget your insurance card for a doctor's visit and have to receive 5 pieces of mail as a result to finally get the visit paid, or how cool it is to show up on a bicycle with two car wheels for tire replacements and then get four tires replaced when you bring the car in for a free alignment check (yes...I paid for the alignment on top of the free alignment check). Lots of cool stuff, lately, but the upshot is that I think I'll be full-time bike shop guy from here on out, unless some real dick rolls in the door with a bag of cash...not an impossible scenario, given the tiddely-winks and shenanigans the current owner got himself into over the eight years he was at the helm.

Anyway, I hope to get this thing up and running, again. I've been in a really low place for too long, now, and it helps to share with the few of you that still look in on me. Here are a couple recent photographs to visually update. We absolutely massacred the blueberry farm this year and hit the strawberries at least twice. The giant swallowtail larva is on the grapefruits I grew from seed earlier this year. Can't wait to imprison the chrysalis just long enough that the girls can watch the newly emerged adult float away.

Stay tuned...and rent Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and the Banksy movie. Those movies are really good. Oh, and don't read Derrick Jensen (it'll just depress or upset you in a do-nothing kind of way), but read Freefall by Stiglitz. Also, last month's Mother Jones is really good, albeit a little on the downer side.

Thanks for hanging in there. Things are getting better.

Is it cold in here, or is it just me?

Weeks...weeks of sub-freezing temperatures in Charleston, SC. The place I once thought of as sub-tropic has become a test of my dedication to bicycling. Amazingly, we've only missed a couple of evenings on the nocturnal mountain bike rides in the last four months (I even did one on my own...something that nearly makes me sick to my stomach...getting in a car by myself to drive somewhere to ride). I've also not missed any commutes out to the other part-time job on Sundays. However, it's like pulling teeth to get any commitment out of my associates for anything other than a single ride each week. Every time I get that urge to avoid the cold/rain/night, I think about my friends in Wisconsin and elsewhere, and the internal debate fizzles. Besides, it always feels so damned good to push through freezing temperatures for a couple of hours than to warm and wither.

So, the big news is that I did NOT get the job that I used to hold. That's right, there was, apparently, a more qualified applicant than the one that successfully held that position in excess of seven years (me). Of course, I don't REALLY think that there was anybody more qualified than I, but that is what I must tell myself. Otherwise, it means that the selection was based merely upon familiarity with the individuals applying or on more nefarious grounds (as I understand it, the girlfriend of the person with whom I interviewed will be getting the job that was vacated as a result of me not being hired). Besides, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I'll just keep telling myself that it just wouldn't be the same job without my good friends Thomas and Shawn in the mix.

The weird part of this whole experience is that I've been reading an UTNE Reader that Garrett passed me, lately, and there are a few articles referring to the loss of identity facing people that now find themselves without a job or with a job providing much less reward for much more effort as a result of the financial "crisis" (I hesitate to use that word, since it sort of implies an element of surprise). I feel the same thing. I don't feel the new identity of "dad" has become primary, even though I get inklings of it now and then. Andree is such a terrific mother, even with the demands of being a full-time teacher, that I'm not sure I'll ever feel sealed in my new fatherly vessel (probably a good thing). At least, I don't feel enough like a dad to the point that it has replaced my desire to also be identified as the bicycle mechanic or the environmental educator or practitioner of whatever other trade/discipline in which I may find myself in the coming years. As a result, I feel incomplete (like it isn't enough to be identified as all of the above!). Of course, were I to have any friends, at all, in the immediate area, things wouldn't feel so overwhelmingly lonely and crushing and dependent upon my profession, but we have what we have.

I would suggest that it is a fault of mine to feel like I must be largely (not entirely, mind you) defined by a vocation, but when one is surrounded by such a perspective, it makes it harder to refrain. I've always thought of myself as a Brad-of-all-interests-trades-etc., but I think I might be stuck in a period of my life where a well-defined, even monotonous job would be beneficial. I know that I'll eventually get back to something more noble, but I must be honest and say that, right now, I am considering the most boring of jobs (library, warehouse, or some such thing), so that the stress of and on the girls is tempered. They don't deserve to have to deal with this crap.

I'm signed up for the 12 Hours of Santos race next week. We'll see what comes of it, not having had much weather that would permit trail training opportunities, lately. All told, though, I'm just happy to be getting to hang out with Dave, again, before he trades this pool of blue blood (Charleston) for the puddle of redneck (Myrtle Beach) to which he is headed. I'm also happy at the idea of spending some quality time in the meditation of the race. It's not that I've done much racing (in fact, this is only my second race...ever), but I know enough about it to know that it provides a great conduit to a level of concentration that brings me peace.

The Cooper's Hawk was in the live oak in the front yard a few weeks back. I noticed it after the characteristic, post-kill feather rain from the unidentified carcass within its clutches. The girls enjoyed the viewing, though I'm not sure they gathered that it was at the expense of another unlucky bird.

The witch hazel that a friend gave us is blooming, as seen in the photograph (I'm a sucker for those understated tree flowers that are so critical to getting the animal world back on track for the breeding season), and I finally got the ball rolling on the vegetables for the season...standard leafy stuff, radishes, and carrots, though I also planted some pomegranate seeds this time (I read that they're somewhat weedy and will do just fine in a temperate latitude, so we'll see). The grapefruits have done well in the cold frame box for the winter, though I can't say the same for the pineapples. The plum trees and the peach that survived the squirrels are looking good, as are the blueberries. Now, if I can just keep everything watered enough...

I don't want to get too deep into the political realm, right now, but I do want to say that I am finished caring about everything except these stupid fucking wars that still have us so embroiled and destitute and looking like a bunch of assholes to the world, especially in light of the recent uprisings in Egypt, Tunisia, and Yemen. It makes me think of recent comments I've heard about how there is no pull on the president from the progressive side of things like there is from the other side of the spectrum, so why would the milquetoast do anything other than maintain the status quo?

I know that the absence of "defense" spending doesn't translate to immediate relief for everything else that ails us, but it would certainly make a huge dent and shut up a bunch of wingnuts that think their pedestrian interests have anything to do with those that make over a quarter of a million dollars a year (Do you know anybody that makes that much? What kind of person is he/she?). I know their ears are being stretched by corporate tentacles, but we've got to talk to our "representatives" and tell them that no war is good war.

Oh, and I'm reading "Interpreter of Maladies" and "Blood Meridian" among other things, right now. I'm impressed by both, but was also taken by the recent "Sunset Limited" that showed up on cable. I'm stuck on McCarthy, but will also be tackling Jensen's "What We Leave Behind," soon, so I'll be sure to comment on how positive that makes me feel.

Speaking of feeling positive...this one's for you, Bob. All hail Price-Leblanc:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0K4HtAPfJE

Time Outside

The job at Caw Caw has turned out well. I'm regaining my trail eyes and general awareness. It was kind of alarming to realize how far one can drift and how much can escape notice after long stints of urban-only exposure. The girls and I spend a good deal of time on the greenway, at the beach, and so forth, but it just isn't the same as really getting away from the distractions of urban existence. Of course, being away from the girls is nice, too. I love being around them most of the time, but having a day by myself is a great gift (especially at this stage in the game...they're exhibiting a more advanced independence, lately, that requires much less of my help, but much more of my attention).

I've picked up on 2 new species for the plant list at Caw Caw, seen some really cool birds (including a masked lovebird that escaped the clutches of its cager), and tons of dragonflies and other insects (most notably a female Carolina mantis devouring her recent mate's head...a challenging interpretive feat for the younger audience that was present).

Speaking of things being devoured, check out this photo. It'll make you wonder why things without backbones have such a weak reputation.

http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/enlarge/anemone-crab-grall_pod_image.html

Rides are way down, lately. Nobody has any integrity, motivation, or time, so I've been going solo for most. We've switched our route for the darker season, but I might have to switch it, again. The shared use path over the Cooper River used to be a good option as part of this route, but there are so many pedestrians, these days, that it gets downright dangerous up there. Most bipeds have really weak powers of perception or totally shut them down by donning headphones to supply them with a soundtrack of music that belongs in the sewer.

Have you listened to what most are listening to these days? Does the world really have room for another well-t0-do, piano-based, quirky female singer/songwriter whining about relationships or another trust fund "folky" fellow pining about how beautiful is the natural world while he tours the country in his jet? If it isn't one of these, it's another rung for the ladder of strained Caucasian "soul" music that has been leaning against the house that built it for way too long. Of course, there are gems among the garbage, but it seems that every time a style gets recycled, lately, a million others follow (as if it's not bad enough that somebody brought back that vomit-inducing Elton John sound in the first place). We've lost some creativity, and I can see why people migrate to stuff like Arab on Radar, Zach Hill, U.S. Maple, etc.

On the other hand, there's this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-agl0pOQfs

And the resulting and nearly equally-entertaining mockery:

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

Don't ask me how I wound up with this. It was one of those things where I was searching for something completely unrelated and I stumbled upon these diamonds in the rough.

We went out for a night ride in the woods last Thursday. I'm kind of hoping it'll become a fixture for the winter, since we had 5 instead of the 2 that we've had for the road ride for the last 4 or 5 weeks. I only feel a little guilty about disturbing the horned owls and others that depend on the absence of our lights and loud mouths for sexual success during this season.

Speaking of the critter world, my co-worker pointed out a weird little fly the other day that I had never seen. It looked like a small wasp (thread waist and long abdomen), but it had the characteristic halteres and antennae of a fly. I think I finally found an identification. It is a Psilonyx spp., but it looks like there's some discrepancy over whether they are robber flies or in their own family (I found one reference to a Grass Fly family...Leptogastridae, I believe). The crazy thing is that this thing was only 5 or 6mm. I'm surprised we even noticed it. I'd love to see what kind of prey it takes, being so small.

http://bugguide.net/node/view/81915

So, lately, I've been a little down. It has to do with communicating less than I should with my handful of really good friends. I think it jealousy. I avoid some communication because it will inevitably remind me of just how condemned is a man that stays home with his twins. I know that sounds drastic, but, the fact is, it is drastic. I hear things about my friends' lives about which I should be happy, but I frequently (and unfortunately) force such news through my selfish filter that just leaves me thinking, "Wow, I wish I had the time/money/friends/etc. to do that." Nothing can be done about this, but I needed to say it...in case you are one of those friends. I love you guys, but I can be a petty twit on occasion...and I'm gonna' allow it. We all deserve a little wallowing in the pit.

However, I'd hate for there to be any misunderstanding, so here are a couple of recent images of the angels that walk among us. Even if there are some lows, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm more than likely going to drop this blog thing. It's just become too much of an albatross around my neck. I feel like I don't have the time to get in depth, and I'd rather spend the time doing other things, frankly. If I do drop it, you can always get in touch through more conventional means (most of my information is the same it has always been since you've known me, but if you need an update, let me know).

Vanishing of the Vinyl Veil

As I write, I am recording my old Harriet the Spy LP and 10" from vinyl to my computer. It took a kid to explain this to me (via YouTube) after years of hanging around "adult" co-workers that couldn't shut up about how great Apple is/was for audio/video but had no idea how to transfer "real" music to a computer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CU-4OCLtSU

I write "real" because I don't care what anybody says, a vinyl copy of any album will always sound better than a CD or downloaded version. Yes, I know one can screw around with mixing and make things better, but I'm not going spend a year of my time learning to efficiently use a mixing software just to make my vinyl recordings sound more like CD's or vice versa. In fact, I didn't even break out the old component equalizer, as I am after the original form of the music, hisses and pops included. I guess I'll have to get around to it, eventually, once I start recording my own music, again, but I've not picked up the guitar in nearly a year. I miss it. Maybe I'll get something recorded and get it on here in a month or so.

So, the caveat with the above video, that he doesn't mention, is that recording straight from your turntable is not enough if it doesn't have a built-in pre-amplifier. So, having been fortunate enough to inherit a second component stereo system, I simply hooked up the record player to a stereo receiver (which also lets you ground the player...a good noise reduction technique) and connected the y-adapter to a stereo cable that runs to the "Tape Rec Out" on the back of the receiver. As well, I'm just recording sides at a time (though, with GarageBand, I don't think it is any big deal to split up the track into songs...I just don't need that level of compartmentalization or order).

The spare stereo stuff is Japanese Technics and Panasonic stuff that a co-worker was tossing so that he could simplify his life. Again, though, I'm left thinking that those with this tendency would rather unload brain baggage but take the easy way out by dumping the dollar-based. As evidence of this argument, just think of how many people you see in a day with their faces buried in palm sand. Those that I know with "everything devices" seem to never be done learning how to use the things and to never reach the point where their second brains make their lives any easier.

Oh well, I've got two beastly component stereo systems, now, and it's made recording this stuff so much easier. Now if only I could keep the girls' grubby mitts off the setup.

I originally thought this entry might be filled with griping about work (although I "work" very little), but I think it will suffice to say that doing the right thing with a business and making money are not mutually exclusive, but they seem to have become so where I work. It is grueling to work for people that mistake large-scale economic booms and busts with immediate acumen and bad decisions and that are convinced that the occasional big-dollar bike sale is better than regular income from moderately-priced bikes and parts and accessories that people will always buy, economic trends be damned. I still like the job, but when days are declared good only when an unrealistic income threshold is reached, it begins to feel like I'm wearing those good old corporate concrete shoes (incidentally, the shop is now an actual corporation).

I'm going to start doing Sundays at Caw Caw Interpretive Center, again, where I was once the full-time Natural History Specialist. I cannot wait, since it is a roving interpretive position facilitating self-guided canoe trips...seemingly the perfect gig. I've also still got my tie-in with Drayton Hall Plantation, where I am paid well for the very rare days when they require my assistance. I will probably try to combine these two into something more substantial in the future, since I'm about ready to get the bike shop back down to one day a week.

On the literary front, I just finished the Bike Snob book and, I must say, it was quite a bore. I suppose if riding is not your thing, and you just want something to help you peek in on the rest of us, it is mildly amusing and somewhat informative, but, having just read the Cyclists' Manifesto (an even bigger bore), this book is something I would recommend you just leave on the shelf. Pick up something better, like Island, by Huxley, which I just finished and by which I was amazed. It was one of those books that I finished hoping somebody capable had adapted to the screen. It was a very visually-stimulating read, and it is a terrific primer on anarchist principles and effective, egalitarian existence. It's got me so interested that I've put a hold on "Doors of Perception," which I just never gave a chance (partially, I must admit, because of the absolute garbage band that claims to have named themselves after it).

I did just get another bicycling book from Garrett that looks a little more engaging (there's even a mention of RAMBO in it...the band, not Sylvester's alter-ego), but I felt drawn to another style for a break, so I started Muir's "First Summer in the Sierra." I think it'll help me get back into the interpretive frame of mind.

Here are a few recent photographs. The hornworm devastated my pepper plants, though they weren't producing that much this year, again. The cactus photograph is from our trip to a friend's condominium in Brevard, NC (as if Opuntia needs any help getting new places). The girls are enjoying the recent shift from the "feels like 115 degrees" realm to the "feels like 100 degrees."

Also, here is something that made me laugh my ass off. Please forgive the offensive nature (don't watch it if you are easily annoyed by foul language and sexual content), but for those of you that enjoy this kind of thing, you will not be disappointed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NisCkxU544c

Best album I've transferred from vinyl, so far (I'm at Dinosaur Jr., though I cheated on a few favorites, like the Harriet the Spy)...Dead and Gone "God Loves Everyone But You." Go listen to that one, again.

Hydrocodone Stone

I'm currently under the influence of an opiate, and I couldn't be happier.  I've got two lines of stitches in the roof of my mouth where tissue was removed, in order to supplement the receding gums on three of my bottom choppers, while some kind of dental plaster is lumped all over said mandible in an attempt to hold fast the transplanted material.  It feels just like being punched in the jaw, but the pills wash most of that away.  The only constant is the feeling that two bristly caterpillars have parked on my palate and my tongue is no match for their tenacious prolegs.  Here's a look.

I just got back from my first actual mountain bike ride, ever.  It was an event sponsored by Independent Fabrication, it was at Lake Powhatan in NC, and it was, by far, the best ride I've ever encountered.  We did lots of climbing and ended with a white knuckle descent.  Here's a view of the speedy stuff (though the last big climb was as beautiful, or more so, in its brutality).  It was much, much greener when we rode it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yORN4uCkc_M

The IF guys were great, and the fact that they brought along a bean bag toss sealed the deal.  There was lots of food, lots of beer, and we were the only dealers there, so things, thankfully, didn't wander off down Propaganda Path or Ego Avenue.  There was one annoying owner in attendance, but that's mostly because he brought his incredible rig into which IF put their time, sweat, and souls, but which he obviously rides very little...if at all.  It's just a shame to see something designed for such abuse serving as wall candy.

I just registered on eBay.  I'm doing this so that I no longer have to ask friends to sell stuff for me and so that I no longer have to pay them $5o or so each time I decide to hock (though, I've only sold two sets of wheels through a friend in the past...it isn't even close to being a habit).  This is really just about selling the Eclipse for enough money to get a leg up on the IF to which I'm committed.  Club Racer here I come.

So I had this dream about Daniel Tosh.  I've caught a good bit of his show on Comedy Central, and laughed my ass off a few times.  On the other hand, the dream put me in the role of the butt of his jokes, and I was left feeling like I just wanted to kill him or myself or both.  I don't blame him, alone, for these mental meanderings, though, since so much humor has become so caustic and degrading that I'm amazed I find anything funny anymore.  So many things, even the most sacred (I'm thinking Kids in the Hall), have led us in this direction, and I'm not sure it can be turned around.  Let me know what is funny to you, these days.  Maybe I'm getting sensitive because of the girls, but I also think it stems from the abundance of denigration, or destruction, humor out there (I love It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Arrested Development, The Office, and such things, but they precisely define what I'm talking about).  It's nice to think that those that act selfishly and rudely get what's coming to them, but the truth is that they rarely do, and even if it does happen, they don't deserve the kind of soul-splitting retribution that is so common in these shows.  Yeah, yeah...I know...just stop watching television. 

So, my nose finds itself in "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?" by Studs Terkel, and "The Island" by Aldous Huxley.  The first is because I've loved everything he's ever gathered for books, and the second is a reference from "The Power of Now."  The first is about death, and it has me thinking a tad about the dignity deserved by all, as if the previous paragraph was not a hint in this vein.  I'm hoping the second will be a more understandable version of what Tolle was trying to say, even though presented in metaphor (is it feasible that we need the "story" version of the story to really get it?).

A Lungfish tune just came on my random generator.  It was "Instrument," and I stopped typing for the duration.  For the sake of all that is holy, would you just go out and buy some of their stuff, already?  On the music tip, I just downloaded some Gil Scott Heron, Brother Ali, and P.O.S., though I think some old Subhumans is on the way in the near future (Worlds Apart and 29:29 are true gems), as might be some of that really early Government Issue and Youth Brigade.  

We picked the hell out of some blueberries with the girls this year (two trips=4 gallons=berries for breakfast cereal and oatmeal for over a year!).  They had a blast, and went, without me, to pick blackberries, too, though not as many of those came home.  Hopefully, our actual friends will invite us to the only organic strawberry farm in the region next year, so that the girls can gather all their berries on their own and get used to the seasonality of such sweetness.  Our non-friends went, they just forgot or neglected to extend the invite...as if anybody on the planet would turn down an offer for strawberries.  I mean, really, who do you know that doesn't like strawberries?  Is there even one person on the planet?  I am, however, talking to a friend who has some ballasts that I will equip with full-spectrum lamps for just this purpose if he ever gets them to me.  I'll make the room in the garage if it means fresh strawberries...damn the piano that Andrée wheeled in there from the neighbor's curb the other day!  Of which, though, I must say, the girls are already insanely fond.  Besides, how's that for a dumpster find?

On that note, I came across 8 huge cypress boards (around 3" thick and 10" wide) and around 200 bricks within the last week.  I just cannot believe people put such things upon curbs.  We are truly demented in our quest for physical space simplicity and I think it might reflect how much we would like to simplify our mental load...if only we could.

Go search the curbs on your bicycle and find something that you can use.  I promise it won't clutter your mind.  It will, however, facilitate some creative thoughts.  Trust me, you have the space.

Oh, and here's a really cool use for six-pack rings if you, like I, have a penchant for Organic Blue Sky sodas.

http://www.notcot.com/archives/2007/08/remind-me-chair.php

Here is the most recent shirt creation.  Send me a shirt if you want me to screen one for you.  1628 Sanford Road, Charleston, SC  29407.

 

 

Framed by First Years

My life, that is.  It has become defined by what is going on in the girls' lives.  I don't say this because it is inherently a good or bad thing, it just is.  As I sit to type this, all I can think of is how Delia has had a fever for a few days and how that really is all that truly matters to me in the world right now.  I suddenly give two poops about how much oil is leaking out in the Gulf...it is oil, after all, and not one of the many more toxic things we have been known to "lose track of" in our oceans (like all that radioactive crap dumped by our armed forces off the California coast or the ubiquitous plastic masses swirling in pelagic gyres the size of states that execute, for example).  Besides, this kind of concentrated attention tends to aggravate the fatigue about the real ecological crises that are not so ephemeral, like hormones in our water supply causing sex changes in vertebrates or the resulting air pollution from all that oil if it IS captured and refined and burned in motor vehicles (some of which are efficient, most of which are not).  

Still, as a former resident of the Gulf region and an ecologist by training and choice, I obviously am not entirely unaffected.  I struggle for something to say about that poor state (literally and metaphorically) anymore, other than that this kind of thing SHOULD be the perfect catalyst for establishing some real incentives for clean energy industry in the region.  I mean, if they're going to, as some have suggested, let developers go in there and repaint the canvas without color or texture, they could, at least, charge them with helping fund tax breaks and job training that would move the state in the smart direction that would help prevent such avoidable tragedy from striking again.

So it turns out that mononucleosis is the final word, for now, on what has kept me under the weather for nearly a year.  This is kind of a relief, since I was so far down that I was thinking cancer, MS (my sister and aunt has/had the misfortune of dealing with this one), Lyme disease, and other such things.  On the other hand, knowing this means that there is nothing to be done.  I simply must try to stay as healthy as possible if I don't want to experience the symptoms.  I've knocked out smoking.  It's been around 7 months, now, and I only occasionally have the urge.  I've been less successful with cutting out my alcohol consumption, but I'm less concerned with that, since I don't drink excessively.  The toughest parts are a) taking it easy on the physical exertion and b) keeping the stress at a manageable level.  The latter has gotten me in such a fix that I gave "The Power of Now" a try, at the advice of a friend.  I don't have much patience for this kind of book, but I can see how some might find it valuable.  I guess I'm resisting the non-resistance that the author advocates.  It's the kind of thing that makes most sense if you, as mentioned in the book, have been through some substantial tragedy or experienced significant suffering.  I don't think just reading about living in the present can shift one that way.  It does help to read some of the analogies and advice on how to better observe oneself, but I think one needs time for this transition, more than anything, and that is one of those things he mentions forgetting about in the book.  Unfortunately, I'm convinced one first must plan and live in the future enough to present the situation where time matters so little that one can forget about it and stop living "in the mind."  

On a related note, how about we all agree to stop telling people that are stressed out that they need to relax?  Speaking as one that is subject to an appreciable amount of stress, we all know that we need to relax, and being told that we should only reminds us that we need to but can't, which makes things worse.  Trust me, we think about it all the time, but if our schedule does not allow "down time," it just doesn't.  It isn't that we haven't looked into ways to create more "time for ourselves."  It is, simply, that life doesn't allow for it, sometimes.  This is sort of why I take issue with the book.  I appreciate that it is probably easier to just identify oneself with negativity than to change things and facilitate positivity and joy, but the latter is not attainable at any given moment for everybody.

Lately, I've found it closer and closer.  Summer is almost here, and that means I'm back in the shop.  It means prettyin' up the newest rig in the arsenal, too.  It cost me $60, and it is a 1987 Schwinn Circuit with Columbus tubing, an all-original drive train of Suntour Sprint stuff, and some other beautiful attributes (everything on it is original equipment, I think).  My only upgrades will be bar end shifters (down tubes just don't work efficiently enough on the group rides I do), Cinelli leather tape, a Nitto stem (only because the Cinelli was so frozen in the steerer tube that I nearly destroyed the threads in the quill bolt and wedge/cone getting it out), and some handsome old (but brand new) Campagnolo brake levers some idiot sold me for $5 long ago.  I'll probably also replace the saddle and seat post down the road and even get the frame and fork painted, since I'm seriously considering making this my regular road race rig and selling my Jamis Eclipse to start a fund for the purchase of an Independent Fabrication (we just picked them up at the shop) or a Seven.  I'm thinking I'll shoot for something like the Club Racer that IF does (a good all-around setup that would allow trailer pulling).  Whatever I wind up with isn't that important.  I'm really happy with what I've got in the garage, currently.

http://www.ifbikes.com/OurBikes/Road/Steel_Club_Racer_/

Update:  The Circuit is ready to go, and I broke it in on a 40-miler with John G. and Greg S. before work this past Saturday.  I now only need replace the seat post and saddle and it'll be right where I want it.  Here's a gander:

We were going to go see Modest Mouse, but the tickets were $35 each.  I only once paid that much to see music in my life and that was the first Lollapalooza, so I dicked off and the show wound up selling out.  Great for them, too bad for the audience.  The Music Farm in Charleston is one of the worst venues on this planet.  Over the years, we've seen Dalek, They Might Be Giants, and Iron and Wine there, none of which sounded good.  It wasn't that they played poorly, but thanks to the retched acoustics of that dive, everything in there sounds like it's being funneled through a thin, aluminum tube.  Maybe they've improved by now.  It's been a long time since I've been to a show.  I might go see Eyehategod in Spartanburg next week, though, which would be a great way to get back into it.  Speaking of music, thanks for the tunes, Bob.  The Zydepunks reminds me of Flogging Molly, but more interesting.  The Cross Stitched Eyes and other punk stuff was great, too.  It reminded me of all that great dual-vocal stuff we used to wear out (Antischism, Nausea, Paxton Quigley...there's an old one for you, Bob!...was that the cookie monster band?).  The other disc didn't stick to me as much.  I guess I've just lost some of my taste for that new "old" sound, since everybody and their brother is doing something folky, now.

I'm officially an iTunes idiot, now, but only on occasion.  My hand was forced when I saw the price of the new Dan Le Sac/Scroobius Pip ($28) versus the download ($10).  It does also get me access to some out of print stuff from Lungfish and others, too, so it ain't all bad.  The problem is that now I'm thinking about getting a 160GB iPod and a USB-equipped turntable so I can download all that vinyl.  Man, these things always snowball into way too much (exactly as intended by the tech pushers, I'm sure...contrary to all the "convenience" references in their propaganda).

Speaking of convenience, we had a car-free event on one of our major downtown business district streets the other day.  It sounds like it was a big success, but it aggravates me for one simple reason.  It reinforces the division between those in motor vehicles and everybody else.  It suggests that the only safe way for pedestrians and bicyclists to use our busiest downtown streets is to wait until all motor vehicle traffic is prohibited.  It reminds me of the "rumble shoulders" that have been plopped down on many of our local rural routes.  These allow drivers to be less attentive, but it also literally divides the two user groups.  

Thanks to Adam for this bit of potentially really bad news.  Read the comments that people posted.  I was especially weirded out by the use of the word "segregate," but I guess maybe that word might not have the same weight across the pond as it does here.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/environment/article7140213.ece

The girls are napping and have been down for nearly 3 hours, now!  Today is an experiment in pushing them into 1 nap instead of 2.  If they can get on this schedule, it will finally give us the time we need to get to the beach, the aquarium, and any number of other places that have just been too far on our old schedule.  It has been nice, though, recently, since they've been staying up kind of late, and I've been able to see them and help Andree after the Tuesday and Thursday night rides.

Update:  Today was our first trip to the SC Aquarium with the girls and they seemed to really like it.  We got a pass, too, so my hope is that they absolutely fall in love with it.  I, of course, could spend day after day walking around that place and never get bored.  Even if they don't totally dig it or get tired of it, a trip there means a short walk to the main branch of our incredible library, so I'm pretty happy about it all.

I joined a mess of folks for a ride at Manchester State Forest on Sunday.  The ride was nice, though I never really felt like I got my trail legs or reaction time down.  There were some decent crashes, as a result, for a change (one coming down a slippery bridge ramp and another into one of the many sandy turns that make this place so much fun).  We nearly got stranded when the van didn't start, but our fearless leader hailed a truck full of lounge chairs, beer drinkers, and many, many cigarettes.  Jumping a motor vehicle with a few city folk and a heap of rural characters is always a good time, so I took a seat and let the entertainment commence.  It was the perfect end to a good ride.

Speaking of perfect ends to good rides, USA is a Monster is the best band to which you never listened.  Watch this and cry for the next force as meaningful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPGFgM6mSVE