Month: August 2008

My Vote

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I decided i’m voting for Obama. This was not easy, Democrats make me uneasy, at least they used to. On a candidate-only basis, I would be pretty cool with either one of them. I am a centrist, and a libertarian, and both men seem decent in that regard.

The problem is, each candidate is of their party, and eventually will be pulled along with their party. The Democrats are investing in the marketing of divesting from Iraq and going green. The Republicans are investing in the marketing of Iraq and law and order. True or not, right or not, their courses are set, and the candidates will be pulled in their parties’ currents.

I had this exact unsettling feeling about Kerry in ’04, and he sunk himself with his “plans” for everything, playing into the Democratic stereotype of a big-government liberal that played right into the hands of Karl Rove. If I had to flip a coin, on principle, I would vote for McCain if his party was my only dilemma. but McCain has wedded himself to the war in Iraq, and that unfortunately would be his legacy if elected. This came to me brilliantly and clearly after an episode of “The Daily Show,” as many things do. It really is that simple: McCain will not walk away from this war. And I don’t care about how bad it might get if we leave, I believe it will be better no matter what if we leave. Its not just seeing healthy fit athletic 22 year old men with prosthetic legs at my gym that makes me say this. It is having read Machiavelli’s theories on hatred vs fear. It is watching this depression engulf our country, the job market desperate for talent while weeping over unemployed loan officers, Ford doggedly promoting the F150, the housing bubble that never should have been bursting with a debt long-overdue.

Any emotional unease with the Democrats vanishes when I think about how un-responsible and untenable the Republicans have made the economy. The war…duh!?!?! But they also passed the inherently porkish “stimulus” package and the stupid dodge-responsibilty homeowners’ bailout. Am I really worried about Democratic fiscal policy?

First things first.

The Mischievous Face

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Genevieve has a mischievous face. I’ve wanted to take a picture, but it flashes quickly and then it vanishes. Its completely spontaneous, and a photo would ruin the moment.   She gets overcome with the realization that she is testing the limits. it looks exactly like this:

An example: she’ll grab the input control knob on the TV, turn around and look at me, flash the face, and wait to be yelled at or subsequently turn the TV to blue-screen.

She never puts the face on doing whatever it is she is doing, its always when she knows that she probably should go back to doing whatever it was she was doing and stop doing whatever it is she’s thinking about doing. I’ve started to think that if I pretend not to look at her, my TV might stay on the intended channel, my pool table might not get walked on, and my microwave might not send us all back in time.

Stupid Ways to Die

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This was supposed to be an easy night – a simple shakedown and stretching night. until 2 nearly tragic, stupid incidents smacked me back into reality.

š – test the seat on the Superlight for an easy 30 minutes spin so as not to repeat the conundrum of last week’s commute

š – confirm the rear-wheel seal and shifting on the Blur for an easy 30 minute spin to get ready for the race this weekend

š – sneak into Red Mountain Ranch pool and stretch the shoulders for 500 meters

runzeheund…

…er…not quite.

cruising down my street about 8:30 with Kila in tow, a car coming up the street turned left into their driveway right in front of me. ironic that I had a blinky on my back, and a white jersey, but figured nah i don’t need a headlight for such a mundane 3 miles. They hit the brakes, I hit the brakes, which was not easy one handed while hauling Kila’s leash back with the other arm. Kila got a good case of whiplash. Can’t blame em, we were moving fast, and they did see me in the end. WHEW!

20 minutes later, just plinking along next to the fire station, i hear rattle rattle rattle about 3 feet from me. This came 2 days after Kila flushed another rattler 5 yards outside of Red Mountain Park.

all this after 3 Sundays in a row riding to Tortilla Flat with boat traffic, 30 miles 2x a week playing in rush hour traffic, and bombing down Geronimo. one of those nights on the bike that makes you wonder if you’re on borrowed time.

Spicy

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I made some green curry thai food with coconut milk. G decided she wanted some. I tried to explain that she would not like it, that it would be bad, and said it was very very hot. She said she would blow on it.

Hmm… not the right adjective.

I told her it was spicy. And got a blank stare in return. She insisted she wanted some. Oh well, the scars of learning need to be branded in sometime.

At first she went mmmm. That was the coconut milk. Then she made a gag face and began licking the couch. I said “spicy”. Several times, just to be clear. Then I offered her some water.

Soon after, she poured salt in the water.

Soon after, I removed the salt from the table.

Soon after, somehow, the salt was back and she poured more in the water. And continued licking the couch. And reached for more water.

A heavy hand does not work with G. And I don’t really care to wield one. This is much more effective, and much funnier.

Is 6:15am Too Early to Start Drinking?

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i asked myself this about an hour and a half into my Sunday ride to Tortilla Flat. i was tired all over, looking forward to the ride ending since Friday when I knew I had to do it, and thinking of the 2 cases of Stockyard Stout I just picked up from Trader Jo’s.**

It was a big week, 2 commutes, Tortilla, and yesterday’s ride on National. Chongoman Bob was hosting a ride and post-ride breakfast to celebrate his birthday, and lots of the MTBR crew were there: Doug, Sam, Mike R, JB, Jeff and Su Ling, Kathleen, BrianC, a few others I knew a bit, and a few cool folks I got to meet – about 14 riders in all. Lots of nice bikes. Bob lives across from the old office, and we rolled about 5:45 up Javalina, Mormon, National. The pace was slow with a large group, I was mostly up front with Doug, and at the saddle before BV we decided to jump out and get more mileage and meet everyone back at Bob’s. down Geronimo, Doug’s crazy idea to go up 24th, then National down again. I missed the Heckler, and it missed National, but for the scant $20 Rage charged me to deal with RockShox and the warranty on the fork I may have to send it in for more service again! I rode pretty well too.

good times, but the ride along with several hours of yardwork left me flat for the road ride. I wasn’t hurting on the roadie, just noticeably fatigued. Sometimes you are in pain, sometimes you just reach down and there is nothing there. After I didn’t loosen up after the first climb into Las Sendas, I figured this was going to be a long steady slow day. i was struggling to hold 10 mph on the climbs, but I actually handled it well mentally. The last few weeks making my mind strong for this ride, and starting in the dark got me into a nice relaxed, quiet, calm place. at one point, however, a lady-bug landed on my bars and would not shoo away, until finally i swatted it and curse “I do not need your weight!”   I took breaks, I ate — it was that kind of day.   I went up, I came down, I was very very tired, and though i wanted to crack on the return from AJ i held on and crawled at 8mph back up the Las Sendas climb.

No pancakes today, straight to beer. 10.5 hrs in the saddle this week, without too much loss to my lifting and stretching. I will likely do 10.5 hrs in the saddle at the Crazy 88. Ready or not here i come…

**Trader Joe’s has raised the price to $24 a case. All good things must come to an end.

A Narrowly Avoided Faux Pas

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I asked Beckie the other day if she was showing faster for this pregnancy than for the last one.

This was a potential hand-grenade of a question.

Beckie and I have pretty much both been religious about exercise for as long as I can remember. Sometimes we are better or worse, but its been a long time since either one of us looked sloshy. and yet, there it was. A fair question, if you don’t ask it to a woman, a pregnant woman, a pregnant woman facing 110 degrees between her and a run, an overstressed pregnant woman already dealing with one obsessive-compulsive tinyMonster. Its fair especially since Beckie didn’t show at all til like 6 months with Genevieve, won the Tour of the White Mountains, and hiked Flatiron on New Years Eve at 7.5 months. And even more especially since I have been doing the shopping and can state emphatically that our grocery list has been pretty damn good.

I asked it very politely. as an interested party, an amicus curiae as it were. but I had to know!

Apparently women show faster the 2nd time around. I have since received independent confirmation of this, by a mere coincidence of listening in on someone else’s conversation. Beckie, too,   was prompt and objective in her response.

Whew!

Good Idea

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G’s been very proud of my thinking lately. She tells me this: “good idea daddy!” And for a second, its very gratifying to be complimented. Then i’m like “wtf! you have no clue what i’m talking about? you need help wiping your butt and suddenly you’re a talent scout?”

It says a lot about the persuasive power in one’s tone of voice. and what a cute baby voice on a cute little girl will do to my sense of reason, when used persuasively.

G’s been having lots of ideas of her own too. She announces proudly “I got an idea!” And i listen attentively, then press her for details, and she goes:

then i fill in an idea and we go play.

I like that she is using her brain, and trying to come up with solutions. Her dialog comes out of “Go Diego Go”, so it is partly that she understands it and partly that she parrots the situation and is using the words as tools. Like most learning with her, some of it involves repetition and some of it involves insight.

Her awareness of complex topics like time and distance is behind this. Where else could ideas come from if not based in a notion of the abstract? Its pretty cool seeing her brain go to this next level. Regularly now if I’m talking to Beckie on the phone, G gets insistent that i give her the phone cause she “wanna say hi to mommy.” And if we get home and Beckie is not around, I say “mommy is not here” and she goes “mommy’s in town?” She knows that Waterday happens sometimes, the we travel to the park in the bike in the evenings, and when we run out of popsicles\yogurt\cookies\eggs\chicken\pasta if I say “no more, all done” she actually stops her tantrum.

Irony, with an Anal Probe

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so a day after committing to overflow with the milk of human kindness during my commute, the bolt on my seatpost cracked just as I was hitting Country Club Drive going through the Res. I thought the seat slipped a little on the last ride – no big deal, it happens – and when it slipped completely so the horn was poking me in the nards, I knew i was in for trouble. 200 yards later, the whole thing collapsed and the seat fell in the street.

So, 9 miles back home pedalling standing up, or 6 miles into the office pedalling standing up and then the challenge of the afternoon return trip?

I hoofed it to work, not able to sit or even lean back as a raw piece of metal was bumping my ass. I had to go in my biggest gear and hammer, or else i got bobbing between each pedal stroke. It was quite exhausting, and as I got closer to the office I definitely worried about 15 miles the other way.

I was busy busy today, and had to pick up G. First thing I did was reschedule my 4pm to 3pm, to give me 2.5 hrs to get home. I thought about riding to Rage, or another small shop nearby, but decided to try to make do and get home. I had to goto Rage the next day anyhow, and had some old parts in the ManCave. So in the bike closet – which is fast becoming my ManCave-Away-From-Home – I went to work with a roll of packing tape. It wouldn’t be solid, but it would be enough to give me something to rest my butt on and not cause a colostomy-bag-inducing trauma.

Sadly, the worst part of the entire experience went like this: one of my co-workers stuck her head in the door and started glaring at me. I figured she was bothered by the noise of the taping, but she has a reputation for being a noise-hypocrite around the pod-farm, and pushy as well. Unfortunately we are about to start working on a project together, and I’m dreading the inevitable confrontation where I will have to establish my boundaries with her. Frankly, I was offended that she sees me wrapping an entire roll of tape around anything and didn’t have sense enough to realize there was a problem afoot. DUH?!?! So I continued wrapping, until finally she says in that passive aggressive tone people take: “um, that is really really loud.” To which I replied “well, I’m sorry, but I have to get home somehow.” So she stared at me, and I stared back, and then tuned her out, and finally she stormed off. Her obnoxious tone aside, this woman is hugely obese. I take great pains to keep body-image and my lifestyle completely free of work — everyone at work is an asexual avatar who should be treated respectfully and strictly on a work-basis, and i think my teammates would agree that I don’t give off an air of disdain or anything about their size or looks.   But here I am riding an hour each way and facing a crappy ride home at 4pm in 107 degrees, and this giant St. Bernard of a woman is blocking out the doorway, bitching at me, too lazy to put on a pair of headphones.   It was really hard not to say “go fuck yourself you fat cow!!!”   I took Bob’s advice and said nothing more, and she quickly backed her zipcode-sized ass and 3 chins out of the doorway.

I hit the rode about 4:30, and i was oddly excited by the challenge.   The seat taping helped just enough. It eventually fell to the side, but still gave me just a little something other than metal to sit on so I didn’t have to stand up the entire ride. I hit a wall on the last mile, but it actually took about the same amount of time as normal, maybe cause I was hammering in my biggest gear to make as much time as I could and avoid the pedal bob.   Maybe the commuting and roadieing is starting to get me stronger again.   Picking up G made everything better.   She made a little watch – a piece of paper that the Miss Anna taped on her arm – and the whole way home all she could say was “i wanna give my watch to my mommy.”

Back home I trolled through the parts bin.   The post on the Superlight felt narrower to me than the ones on the Blur or the Heckler, which probably meant a non-standard mtb size, or just an older part.   I remembered i once threw out one that broke from my Sugar3 about 6 years ago, and i once took a brand new one off my roadie cause it was too short.   Lo, the old one from the roadie fit perfectly!   10 minutes later the bike was ready again.

Maybe it was good karma for not making a scene with my co-worker?