Written on Sunday, the 31st of July, 2005 at 9:16 pm and was filed under:
Diversions
Anyone who is confused by my life raise your hand now.
In Minnesota the saying is to dress in layers. Well, I made a phone call and then took off some layers. I took off some more layers. I took off layers that I wasn’t even wearing, but still heat pressed down on me with a giant monkey hand, pressing me into a sleep full of very strange dreams, almost like hallucinations. According to my window thermometer it is 78 degrees outside and 86 in my room. Ugh.
Depending on your imagination, I may or may not be wearing any pants right now. I suggest that you decide which state is more appealing and only imagine that one. If that state is the state of pantslessness, maybe we should talk.
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Written on Saturday, the 30th of July, 2005 at 9:38 pm and was filed under:
Family
When Lisa and Stan left, Noah started crying very hard and then crawled into my arms. I hadn’t held him like that since he was just a few months old and we would take naps together. Eventually he stopped crying, mostly because I outlined my four point plan for the evening:
- Pizza
- Park
- Movie
- Bed… and Mom and Dad would come home
It turned out to take too long to make the pizza, so we didn’t go swim at the park, even though it was the kind of day that commands a person to go lie down in chlorinated water while three year olds splash you. How is that not an hour of heaven?
We did go to the park, but I had to carry Noah up the hill. He was being extra cute as we passed a house where five women were seated around a patio table drinking. I sensed their heads swiveling to face me even though all I could see were shadows. A light flashed, which was either a picture being taken of Noah and I, or the sound and fury of five women simultaneously ovulating.
Ladies, please. Last night I went to a trashy movie by myself at 10:30 at night with macaroni and cheese on the shirt that I had worn to sleep the night before. Well, it was just the cheese, but whatever.
Later, as we were walking back down the hill, Noah wanted to run, but tripped, tumbled, and bumped his head a little. Immediate, giant tears poured out of his eyes and he wanted to be held right away so he could scream closer to my ear. I settled him down again and we sniffled our way down the hill. Again the invisible eyes tracked us, and I distinctly heard an “aww” as the last glow of twilight glinted in a tear rolling down Noah’s cheek.
If I ever become completely evil I will just go ahead and use Noah to get dates. Oh yeah, my dad used to do that with me.
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Written on Saturday, the 30th of July, 2005 at 7:20 pm and was filed under:
Bikes
Today I went back to the MInnehaha Hub to try out the Bianchi Volpe ($849.99) and Castro Valley ($799.99). They were all right, but the gear ratios in the rear were fucking RIDICULOUS. The Castro Valley seemed like a neutered Volpe, having just one 42 tooth chainring in the front instead of three (28/38/48T) on the Volpe. I honestly did not like the STI shifters a whole lot. Overall, still a contender, but only in Volpe form, since I can add fenders and a rack to it and have a much more comfortable bike. I wish that I could take five of the rear speeds out and throw them away. The lady who helped me first had a name that started with a C, but I didn’t write it down. I tried a 52 and a 49, and somehow they both seemed largish — I thought that there was supposed to be some space in between the frame and one’s nuts. Maybe the 49 was okay, and would be better without the sort of knobby tires. Shock mounted seat = silly.
After that I went over to Penn Cycle where Lisa and Stan had gotten their bikes. I stopped sweating as I walked from the car, and I was about to look for some liquid awesome when this old black dude on a Scamp stopped me to ask if I could help him out.
“Can you help me out with a couple bucks for the grocery store?” he asked with a slur and some difficulty. I was about to run out into traffic because I tire easily of crackheads, when I remembered that I could call his bluff.
“Why don’t we go to the store together? I need to get something to drink anyway, like some lemonade,” I replied. Generally if a dude just wants money to booze it up he will take this chance to make one final press for cash before doing his own fleeing, but this guy just looked a little confused. I told him that if he could make it on his Scamp I could make it on foot. He agreed and we were on our way. (bonus point if you catch this shout out to Fresh Prince)
Anyway, we walked from Lyndale to the Rainbow on whatever and Lake. I still wasn’t sweating, so the arctic blast of the AC was like slipping into heaven through the back door. Jimmy (that was the old dude with the wire brush hair) picked out mustard and collard greens, then some ham hocks, short ribs, and cotto salami. I was unsure how generous I was going to have to be, but that was it. I bought a liter of organic lemonade and a liter of water. The total was less than seventeen bucks and I felt like a million. I drained the water and the lemonade by the time we got back to Lyndale, where Jimmy rolled onto the bus and I strolled into Penn Cycle.
They didn’t have anything in my size in stock, but I might go back tomorrow to try the Giant OCR3 (or was it the Giant OCR1?). Either way, Shawn laughed at my jokes, which was excellent, but the place was a little too… something. Whatever, yo.
After that I came home to pick up my bike helmet and a nalgene bottle full of water before cruising over to Freewheel Bikes. Also, I couldn’t remember where it was, despite Jeremy and another friend of a friend working there. I got there and was a little overwhelmed by their selection. Bikes were everywhere, in racks, hanging from the cieling, writhing in big sexy piles of bikes on the floor… I fired up my lost shopper look and walked around looking at all the shiny stuff. Eventually I found a dude talking to another dude with that sales dude kind of look on his face, so I made eye contact with the sales dude looking dude and he shook the other guys hand and broke away to lead me into the chocolate factory.
I find that it is much easier to talk to salespeople if you have specific models in mind. Telling someone that I’m thinking of commuting on a bike, that I am not comfortable on a mountain bike, and that I haven’t been riding a lot lately usually results in quizzical looks and a sort of “who are you, crazy person, and can you afford that $2000 piece of metal that you are eyeing” look. I said “Bianchi Volpe, Giant OCR 1/3, Felt F90, and Trek 1000″ and he gave me a look that said “I see that you have already spoken to salespeople, please let me assist in both expanding and refining your purchasing choices.”
As such he first showed me the Trek 520 in 17″ size for $1099.99. COUGH. Whoa. His note on the card said “includes rack.” I did some mental math before deciding that I should take as many bikes on rides as I could regardless of anything because otherwise I just won’t know. It was nice. It felt sturdy and reliable, and it only complained a little when I really cranked on it — just the buzzing of the chain kissing the derailleur in the front in the top gear when I was pushing hard. It was definitely more comfortable than the Volpe, but that might have just been a size thing.
After that he brought out the Trek 1000 ($570) and Trek 1200 ($750). Someone else wanted to ride the 1200, so I grabbed the 1000 and gave it a shot. It was a 50cm bike, which seemed to fit fairly reasonably, with more of a “cup your balls” action than a “move in to the back room of your scrotum for a while after graduating from college” action. It was very light. I took it out for a lap around the flat area. Once I figured out how to shift it into the top gear I mostly left it there. It was so nimble and fast that I had to do another lap. This time I really pushed it hard and the chain jumped. I stopped and fed it back on (I have had a LOT of experience from all the shady bikes I have owned) and resumed my riding. The second time that it jumped I was able to pedal backwards and save it. The third time it jumped I screamed and hit the bike with a big hammer. Okay, I downshifted and stopped cranking so hard. I don’t care what you say about my riding style. Nyeah.
Then he brought out some straight handlebarred contraption that was immensely irritating. I just couldn’t get comfortable, and I felt like I wasn’t laying down all the power that I had. Nyeah.
Jim and I chatted a bit, and he was really nice and kind of cool. I mentioned that a big benefit of having a car is blasting the stereo, and he countered that I could get a dynamo hub and run a boombox, and that when I rode faster it would get louder. How awesome would that be? He also said something about “if you always ride as fast as you do,” which I will tuck away as a compliment, because I was pushing fairly hard when I passed him that one time (he was taking the first bike out for a spin because I had said that the derailleur needed adjustment).
General notes:
hybrid clipless pedals are annoying
those other kind of pedals are annoying
straight handlebars are annoying
drivetrains that are not correctly adjusted are annoying
I was rocking the sweaty funk today all day
JFC Chicken! I have teeny tiny legs!
I feel mostly productive overall for the day, but now I need to take ten showers in a row. Then, babysitting in AC. YES!
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Written on Saturday, the 30th of July, 2005 at 1:34 pm and was filed under:
Diversions,
Family,
Bikes
Stan and I rode bicycles to Mill City Coffee (or whatever the hell it’s called these days) and back. I was towing Noah in the Burly. It’s only 2.6 miles each way, but it felt like 26. When we put the bikes back in the garage, I noticed that Noah had thrown the boat anchor out the back. I guess that explains the load grinding noise. Note to self: I hate flat handlebars.
Then, I mowed the lawn, which is always strangely relaxing. Tonight I babysit Noah so that Lisa and Stan can go out and pretend to not be grown ups for a while. I’m either 13 now or 43.
After some discussion with my financiers I think that I might still be able to get a bike, so I think that I will drive to some bike shops and get measured. Or, I could just go get that $50 mountain bike at Target and swear a lot when I ride. Nothin’ wrong with that. I enjoy swearing. It’s a fine art.
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Written on Saturday, the 30th of July, 2005 at 2:30 am and was filed under:
Diversions
Gerg let me know that his bike still wasn’t running, so I did a little more research and sent him a list of things to check, including whether or not there was too much oil in his crankcase and if there was any additional oil in the airbox. The answer to both of those questions turned out to be “yes,” so our carburetor work was pretty much all for naught - except that his carb did get a nice cleaning. In any case, he drained a bunch of excess oil out of the bike and did something with the air filter, and the bike started and ran well enough for him to drive to Lodahl’s house.
I found this when I called him back after my double-header nap. Part one wasn’t very satisfying, but in the intermission I had delicious Annie’s mac and cheese, and it’s a lot easier to nap with a brick of cheese in one’s stomach. When I finally woke up again I stumbled upstairs to watch an episode of Monk before having a flash of inspiration that I could go see Wedding Crashers by myself, since that was about all for which my brain was up to speed. I laughed a lot, but I heart Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson. I thought that Vince’s monologue about dating at the start of the movie was worth the price of admission by itself, but there was plenty of out of control humor to go around.
Good night, y’all. I think it’s time to watch that other episode of Monk and slip into unconsciousness.
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Written on Saturday, the 30th of July, 2005 at 2:07 am and was filed under:
Music
I already posted the red car playlist elsewhere, so I don’t need to repeat it. These are just mixes that I have actually burned. If you are awaiting a mix I am still germinating the seed of the list.
Songs For Moms
My mom is awesome, but sometimes she has a rough time of it. She likes this CD, which is sort of cool and weird.
| The Flaming Lips |
Bad Days (aurally excited version) |
| Firewater |
Psychopharmacology |
| Descendents |
Everything Sucks |
| Built To Spill |
You Were Right |
| Rilo Kiley |
A Better Son-Daughter |
| Elliott Smith |
Memory Lane |
| Tegan And Sara |
Monday Monday Monday |
| Cat Power |
Cross Bones Style |
| Walt Mink |
brave beyond the call |
| Slim Cessna’s Auto Club |
Last Song About Satan |
| Micranots |
Mother’s Day (from an album called “Obelisk Movement,” which is sort of an inside joke.) |
FUCK
I don’t know if this needs any explanation, but maybe this Say Anything quote will help:
Bitches, man.
| Firewater |
Get Out of My Head |
| Walt Mink |
Love You Better |
| Archers Of Loaf |
You And Me |
| Cop Shoot Cop |
Hung Again |
| Soul Coughing |
How Many Cans? |
| Howlin’ Maggie |
Alcohol |
| Quasi |
Drunken Tears |
| Hot Hot Heat |
Bandages |
| Forget Cassettes |
Accismus |
| Cop Shoot Cop |
It Only Hurts When I Breathe |
| Descendents |
Enjoy |
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Written on Friday, the 29th of July, 2005 at 10:21 pm and was filed under:
Diversions
This morning Lisa commented that I looked a little lost. I would have said bewildered. I went on a non-date last night. My boss commented yesterday that every non-date is a date as soon as you screw up. Apparently I didn’t screw up, because it ended up being a date. She came to my house and hung out on the deck with me until the wee hours. She had worn her work clothes, so I loaned her a t-shirt, then a hoodie, then a blanket. Stars appeared and disappeared behind the leaves of the maple tree while clouds piled up overhead and drifted apart. It was like that.
I don’t know what to make of it all, and I’m fresh out of sass tonight — even after a dual stage nap.
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Written on Friday, the 29th of July, 2005 at 8:09 am and was filed under:
Diversions
I could be this guy.
WOW. Why the fuck am I awake now?
Props to dooce.
Did I tell you about dooce? I should have, because she’s way funnier than I am.
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Written on Friday, the 29th of July, 2005 at 2:16 am and was filed under:
Diversions
Do I really come off as a lush? It’s all a total act. After this summer I will probably go back to the grim spectre of sobriety. In the mean time, any time that a cute woman wants to come to my house and encourage me to drink myself silly on the deck I am all over that like a cheap suit. Shit. That does sound like a thing that Drinky McDrunk Drunk would say.
None of you have any idea what the fuck is really going on.
Paul, you should come drink here too.
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Written on Thursday, the 28th of July, 2005 at 4:48 pm and was filed under:
Diversions,
Bikes
Apparently this morning Gerg’s bike was turning over but not starting. He said that he would try unfouling the plugs and stuff. Hopefully we can arrange another evening of shadetree mechanicry. Uh, I’m not sure that was a word. Oh well.
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