Month: January 2009

Thanks Monster!

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The day began like this, with G locking herself outside.

I guess she is old enough and clever enough to finally operate the front door.   Too bad it didn’t stay that way.   It turned into this:

such a nice wavy pattern all the way down the side of my car, and some on the hood too.

she spends a fair amount of time in the garage, cuz I spend a fair amount of time in the garage.   Other than grease from the bike chain and the threat of a brake rotor, she is pretty easy to watch and let her have fun.   She knows to be gentle with just about everything, and there is not much she can hurt being gentle that has not already plunged down South Mountain. Last week a friend was telling me how he will start a repair and let his little boy finish tightening nuts or whatnot, and they have great fun together.   It sounded so promising.   Who knew a paint brush could fuck up my car so bad?   A paintbrush has a metal band around its brissles, i guess she was not painting, or brushing, or using it for its intended purpose.   One second I was getting my camelback and shoes from the garage, the next I saw my car had been vandalized.   It was kinda cute seeing such free-flowing in her art.

I yelled once, then gathered myself, quickly, and just kept quiet and stewed while I drove her to daycare.   Stewing in front of your toddler, if you have built a relationship with your toddler, is no bullshit.   She knew something was wrong, very wrong, she did not understand why her immediate and sincere “Sorry Daddy” did not make everything better…it always works at daycare?   I can not for anything figure out how someone could get mad so mad at a toddler and hit them.   This was bad, real bad, and I was real pissed, but it was just G being 3.   What was there to do, but stew?   And blog. If you hit someone so small, you have a real problem.   Its not that I don’t ever see myself needing a smack to teach G a lesson, the very very few times I have clocked Kila it has been well-deserved and worked wonders and set the stage for the mere suggestion having the desired effect for years to come.   But at 3 the punishment can not fit the crime, in the traditional sense.   A little spank on her ass or her cheek, maybe if she was being extremely willful and knew she was being willful (ahh…another post yet to come), but what other need could you possibly have to *hit* a tinyHuman?   I just can’t ever see hitting your child.

So I stewed.   Then I was mad at myself for being mad at my daughter, and making her sad, and making me sad.   Helluva way to start the day.

A National ride with Bob is a good way to cure a lot of woes, with a first time down 32nd St.   It was steep and loose, but an easy way down the north face; fun in its way, but no 24th St.   Then G and Kila and I off to the park, where for the first time ever she pushed me on the swings.   She really enjoyed playing 1-2-3!!! Then a soak in the hot bath (apparently, not a hot tub).

.

She does do a very solid apology, in her way.

Where am i, no seriously, where the f*&% am I?

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Its time for a new GPS!

I’m kinda bummed i didn’t think of this before Xmas, it would have made a perfect gift.   And I have to admit I am selling the video game.   Sorry Andy and Deb, its not you, its me.   Hi my name is Jason, and I’m a gameaholic. With 2 kids and a sluggish economy, i can’t have it in my home.   It was very very thoughtful.   Its not you, its me.   Hi my name is Jason, and I’m a gameaholic.

Last October I uploaded the trackfor the Tour of the White Mountains after hearing horror stories of people getting lost the year before.   But my OLD (’02?) Garmin Etrex was basically useless: hard to read, hard to hold on to the signal, old battery life, serial  cable, slow screen updates…and I am sick of getting lost at enduro events and underground races.   I’m taking them seriously enough, if just wanting to finish and take pride in my day is serious, that i kinda want to be properly equipped.   I lost easily an hour at the Crazy 88, when there was no need for it, none whatsoever.   And the early mistakes always hit harder as the day goes on – its hard to say that they are worth more, per se, but they put you in positions less advantageous than if you had not made them, so they become worth more.   Would the Eagles be in the Superbowl if they hit the figgie to make it 7-6…I digress.   Did I mention that this is something really bourgeois that I actually really want?   I really really want something that when I am out in the middle of nowhere on an 8 hour ride with only myself to rely on will say to me “Hey asshole, turn left here!”

I think I have been shying away from some of Chad’s Arizona Endurances Series races cause I’m nervous about getting lost.   Maybe.   Its also cause they are all far away and big commitments.   And they are all like 10 hrs!   But 10 hrs if you know it will be 10 hrs is not as bad as 10 hrs that may become 12.5 hrs if you get lost.

Did I just say 10 hours is not bad?  

The Whiskey Offroad is in late April, and the week before will be the Prescott Monstercross.   The PMC is the same effort, waaaaaay more singletrack, and free.   Here is how this discussion went with Beckie:

Me: So…the Whiskey Offroad is in April, and so is a Prescott underground race.
Beckie: *stiffening*
Me:   I was thinking the AES race would be fun, and free, and no commitment in case things with the kids came up…
Beckie: *relaxing*   Yeah that sounds good.
Me: I want a new gps.
Beckie: Yeah that sounds good.

Some research and help from Scott put the Vista HCxmy leading candidate.   And if only I have a new 29er by then, won’t that be a neat shakedown ride?

4 Tickets, 3 Adults, 2 Toddlers, 1 Designated Driver

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Scored 4 hockey tix from work, and with a little begging got one more, so JB and his little girl came with Beckie, G and I. Fun was had! Some of it even by the adults.

Fascinating watching G interact with Natalie, who she’s met a couple of times but basically did not remember. Natalie is quieter, and G (at least around her parents) is very outgoing. Natalie is a tad older, and actually was more interested in trying to be friends than G was. She was certainly nicer to me than G was to JB.   Natalie high 5’s and knuckles, G gets pouty.   When G would be interested in Natalie, Natalie would not be interested in G.   And vice versa.   Two separate walkabouts around the stadium were taken with two separate sets of parents.   And the Coyotes went from 2-2 to 3-7, WTF?!

The seats were lower than the box, above the goal.   I saw some things I have never seen before.   When the Coyotes were on a power play, they caught the D in transition and had a 3-on-1 instead of a 3-on-2 and scored in the blink of an eye.   I remember a game with Ironwood where that happened with me, Al Taylor an Larry Dues, and after most practices beginning with games of 3-on-3 Mini it was pitiful to watch the D try to stop us.   This was that, but faster, much faster, much faster.   I saw the Ducks use a breakout play and march the puck down and score.   I saw the Coyotes enforcer start a fight 1 minute into the 2nd after the Ducks scored :30 seconds into the 2nd, win the fight, and the ‘yotes score 30 seconds later.

Things we learned:

  • an extra ticket can often be snagged from my coworkers on the day of
  • G fears Giant Inflatable Men on Skates
  • You can abuse Rupert Murdock by poaching the potty’s at the Fox Sports Grill
  • G is upset that genetics make her riding on my head lower than Natalie riding on JB’s head
  • Shots in the box seats cost $8.50 and come in plastic cups
  • You *can* bring beer from one part of the stadium to any other part of the stadium
  • Feeding your toddler a 6,000 calorie brownie and a Diet Pepsi is not a good way to ensure you will watch the game
  • Waitresses in the box are a poor substitute for cheerleaders, and expect to get tipped.

Butterscotch

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I’ve been obsessed with this! Really obsessed. And I don’t know why cause I don’t even own a flask. OK don’t get me wrong – whiskey is awesome. And CactusJoe has good whiskey. But I’m not really into the hammer to my head. And oil cans are good too, except they make me feel fat – no good unless the ride is almost over. DurtGurl’s Peppermint Schnapps was a revelation, and sensory orgasm after tasting dry, dusty mouth for the last 5 hours. But at the end of the day, peppermint tastes like the Dentist.

I gotta start packing butterscotch schnapps!!!

I gotta get a flask!

Grab Your Kittens, Run for the Hills!

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out my office window

then came a friend

maybe more than friends

just over the next yard, maybe 100 feet away

i think they got stage fright

A poster CJ on MTBR, who is on my blogroll cause he takes amazing nature pics, said they are Harris’s Hawks.   Apparently they hunt in cooperative family groups. When I was taking the pics, Turtle started meowing behind me – not sure if she saw them or not, but she has displayed a sufficient sense of self-preservation over the years for me to think she did and was wary.

When I said Grocery Store, I meant OG

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I’ve had this thing against the Pink Park – all the people always make it feel dog unfriendly, so Kila and I never get to get irie and romp.   But since the xmas lights display, G has been wanting to go to the church and play around in their field\cafe\stair case\bbq pit\volleyball court.   Dark places with my pack, where we can romp and frolic uninhibited: perfect.

We wandered and played with a ball and talked smack and lay on our backs and sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for over an hour. I am still ill-prepared to entertain G,   I still have no idea how to have a running dialog with a toddler.   I feel guilty for enjoying her enjoying her TV and her daycare, but i could never fill her with stimuli how they fill her with stimuli.   She has so many exciting things going on in her head It is so easy to play with her for as long as she wants when i let her run free.   She is such a vigorous little girl with such a lively mind.   We shopped for groceries at the grocery store, pushing the imaginary cart around the imaginary aisles, bricks worked like buttons, complete with her sound effects, to dispense all the foods she likes – eggs, pasta, milk, cheese, apples and LOLLIPOPS.   We almost forgot the beer!   We had to go back to the cashier again to buy it. I just roll with it, just glom on to whatever idea percolates up through her bouncing brain.   I’m kinda like her groupie, except for insisting we go back for beer.

There is a long haul back to the Pink Park, and I am tired of carrying her lazy ass.   Every day the same – I wanna go to the grocery store daddy.   Oh I’m so tired, you need to carry me. I made her walk, work her way out of the valley she rolled into; it worked for me earlier in the day at the Quad Bypass.   But I am a gentle taskmaster, and I understand about a positive mindset and the power of distractions to disguise the mileage and vf.   We take frequent breaks and play games along the way.   I thought for sure she would crash when we climbed back up to the park, it seemed to take all her strength, but once back and intact she rallied for some Hide & Seek and slide action for another 30 minutes.   It was cool for me, I grabbed another beer from the truck while she was counting – hiding in the truck, as it were.   Maybe not so good for G – I know now she is just a whiner who really has the legs for the climb.   She can’t play the baby card on the trail anymore. She’s a stone-cold killa.

Are You Buzzing Yet? How Bout Now?

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no.   never really was.   Not bragging about it, more just happy.   I kept thinking here it comes, here it comes, here comes the wall…but I never hit it.   Each of the 50 foot hills and 30 seconds of sprinting along the backside of Fountain Hills hurt me, and the uphill stretches on the final descent down Windgate felt very very heavy, i slipped with fatigue near the bottom and brushed my knuckle into a cholla , but overall a remarkable improvement from last year and the year before.   My riding time was 5:10,   only 5 minutes faster than last year, but with 45 minutes less idle time.   The ride never got long, never at all.

I treated myself right this week by tapering and cutting out caffeine and beer, but my large breakfast felt heavy up Windgate.   I was pissed that for all my good nutrition i still felt like crap.   So I went slow and took a chatty break at the top to lift my spirits, and again at the top of Bell.   I left with a small group somewhere in the middle of our mass of 35 riders, and felt really good bombing the descent, except for one scary moment where my back wheel kicked up and my front side slid toward a rock outcropping nearly bashing me against a wall.   Somehow I saved it, to the delight of Rockcrusher coming down behind me, and it was like a switch flipped on the ride.   The rest of the Bell descent felt great, I let some pressure out of my tires for the 45 minute crunchy climb to the base of Sunrise, pacing myself well and gathering some strength from my familiarity with the route and firing up as we neared the climb that separates the beginning from the end.

I did Sunrise is just about 35 minutes, a good time for me on any day.   Doug and Bob were in the little crew ahead of mine, and were about to dive off when I arrived at the summit.   I didn’t jump in with Dough earlier in the day cause I wanted to relax and find my flow apart from his hammering, but knowing now that I would never see the groups behind me anyway, the opportunity to hook up with some friends who would push my pace was a great motivation for the second half.

The rest of the ride was steady and uneventful and seemed fast. Moving through the backside of Fountain Hills, when I saw we were going to be in at about 5 hrs and with only an hour of rest, i thought of calling this post “Stick a Fork in It“.   Bit i never understood that phrase.   I stick a fork in something like a turkey or banana bread when I’m not sure its done.   Its a question, not a declaration.   Coming up the crap-ass jeep road where you gain almost 1000 sneaky feet, I felt good and could tell I would feel good til the end, which made me feel better.

Windgate I have finally realized goes like this: first third you get, middle third you push a lot, final third you get.   It was nice at the summit, for the first time ever in about 10 times at the summit.   Somehow, Bob had Durtgurl’s flask full of peppermint schnapps.   And while we felt compelled to leave it for her, the graphic flavor was sooooo satisfying, sitting in the sunlight looking out eastward towards the Rim.   We each had a nip, then dove towards the end.

I got to ride one of our crew’s Pivot 429 for a few minutes back at the parking lot, while we were cracking beers.   The frame is outrageous at $2200, but what an amazing ride!   Walt, JB, and the rest of the riders trickled in while Doug, Bob and I split a pitcher at the bar across the street with a bunch of guys from the South Mountain Cyclery.   Then more beers in our lawn chairs in the parking lot.

I’m feeling it now.

An Apology to My Friend in Spandex

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I hurt you today, my friend.   I am sorry.   A man should be free to enjoy the benefits of efficiency and minimal drag without the hushed whispers and the awkward glances of his friends, irregardless of the visibility of his junk.   Considering our sport’s obnoxious jerseys and attention-hogging socks, bombastically colored packs and camo-printed helmets, blingy spoke-nipples perfectly matched to anodized frames, the understated black of a unisexual chamois should not particularly stand out.   In fact, the ensemble should be a triumph of open-mindedness and cross-training, the payoff of preparation and science when applied to be light and fast.   One’s friends should celebrate the broadening of the worldview, the will to power, the expansion of their trusted mate’s prowess and capabilities.   The All Mountain rider embraces any terrain from Downhill to paceline, for buried within every good All Mountain rider is a closet roadie.

Ahh…but in that closet waits the dilemma.   A man who rides The Spine and rocks The Goat has built an image.   An image based on baggies, and pads.   And baggies.   A man who never wears spandex is not supposed to just up and wear spandex.   Its unexpected, confusing, disorienting, dizzying…filling one’s friends with a vertigo.

Wrong?   No of course not…but…there are courtesies, and protocols.   You don’t just bring this guy i met to a Coast to Coast ride?   You don’t just shave your legs?   A friend who comes out of the closet isn’t just waiting at Sodomy Gulch with a dick in his mouth?   He opens his heart, offers a smooth transition, an explanation regarding personal preference that fills the void of confusion with a reassurance of trust and friendship.   Then, its ok for his friends to see him with a dick in his mouth, they applaud his happiness and self-confidence, and are joyous for him that he is getting some.   They may even invite him on a road ride, or complement his bib, in the true spirit of friendship.

Romping with Javelina

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I was walking Kila down by the fire station, hanging out on a cinder block left by a dumper and drinking a beer, when she comes tear-assing around an abandoned washing machine being chased by a javelina. She turns and stares, it stops and stares, some snorting…Kila’s tail was up so i knew she was good, and the pig was alone…and off it went. 5 minutes, or maybe a beer later, and the pattern repeated. I was really drunk after watching the Eagles-Cardinals, I kinda didn’t believe what I was seeing.

Much like the game.   I’m not bitter, the Eagles were out-coached, and Larry Fitzgerald is the best wide receiver in the game right now.   The vaunted Eagles D, #3 in the league this year, could not get a stop when it mattered.   They pitched 3 straight 3-and-outs during the Eagles comeback in the 3rd and 4th quarters by attacking Kurt Warner, but with the game on the line Jim Johnson fell back on the play-calling that put the Eagles in a hole in the first place.   Warner’s passer rating was double when he wasn’t being blitzed – wtf? Kudos to the Cards for smashing out a 70 yard, 8 minute drive.   I think the Eagles offense has weaknesses, and Donovan has not that I can remember produced a truly momentous 2-minute drive in his career, but that is not why the Eagles lost.   The D did not produce a turnover and managed only two sacks of lead-footed Kurt Warner.   Donovan threw for almost 400 yards and ran for another 30.   The breakdown came – like always – when Donovan had to carry the game by himself, for too long.   Its always what happens and a fundamental problem of the positions Andy Reid puts him in.   The Eagles were either first or second in the league in pass attempts, and Donovan usually does more than most passers because he has so many rollouts and busted plays, and that is when he gets erratic.   If he threw 25% fewer passes, he would be better, and the Eagles would be going to the Super Bowl.   The kicker leaving 5 points on the table and at least 20 yards didn’t help.

Alas, I am happy for the Cardinals, one of the few teams in the NFL I do not hate.   If you give me enough time and enough beer, I can find good reasons to hate every NFL team.   And my reasons can go on and on.   I hate the Steelers.   I hate the city – its the red-state hemroidal irritation on the otherwise great state of Pennsylvania.   The people are nice the way only midwestern union people can be, self-righeous the way only midwestern union people can be, and stupid the way only midwestern union people can be.   They think they and the Steelers are divinely blessed and hosting the AFC Championship games their birthright – when they get this privilege only by their geographical good luck of having BOTH Cleveland and Cincinnati in their division.   These 2 cupcakes have had 1 playoff appearance each since 1996 – that is good for probably +1.5 wins per season for the Steelers, which explains why they always have such an inflated record.   I hate how the Steelers were gifted the 5th Super Bowl win over Seattle by terrible officiating, and the self-righteous dunderheaded union hacks had the nerve to call the ring “one for the thumb.”   This one we can call one for the cock-shaft.   Big Ben had something like a 30 passer rating that game, then goes out and street-greases himself riding without a helmet, THEN people get all teary for him and act like he’s Brett Farve, and I hate Brett Farve too (and the Packers, and the Jets, in fact I hate the whole NFC North).   I hate Bill Cowher, he spits and looks like Sergeant Slaughter.   I hate the Steelers for bringing Plaxico Burress into the league, for making Kordell Stewart something more than a slot receiver, and for Hines Ward (dirtiest player in the league).   I hate Troy Polamalu’s hair – its not a nice braid or cornrows, and frizzy hair only looks good on hot chicks with a just-fucked look in their eyes, on dudes it just looks unkempt and probably smells.   I hate Pittsburgh for one of their ultimate teams beating my team at Mid Atlantic Regionals in 1994 when we choked away a sure win.   And I hate their weather, which always causes flight delays even though its sunny and mild in Arizona.   Their roads suck, their bridges are confusing, and Sidney is a girl’s name.

I’m not ready to get on the Cardinals bandwagon yet, that wouldn’t even be waiting for the body to get cold.   Life as an Eagles fan would have been a lot nicer if they kept Matt Leinart at quarterback.   I miss the pictures of hot tubs and beer bongs with college girls, now all we have is dusty old Kurt Warner with his low-key statements.   Back in the days of the Greatest Show on Turf you could always count on Warner to say someting scary to the media – some holy-rolling bullshit that made you wonder if Warren Sapp hadn’t rattled his brain recently – “I just want to thank God for shining his divine light down upon my right arm and turning it into a beacon of his truth, and his wrath.”   Then the Rams’ media relations people would escort Kurt out of the interview room while he genuflexed and his crazy wife spoke in tongues.   I miss that! Come to think of it, I now have a reason to hate the Cardinals too!

I’ll be rooting for them.   The best team is the one that overcomes all the challenges it faces, and they beat the Eagles.   Plus I have a man-crush on Larry Fitzgerald.   I don’t know enough about either the Cardinals or the Steelers to know their ins-and-outs and be able to offer real commentary, which is sort of a shame to be here now with the Cardinals and not be a fan.   Thinking back on the Eagles season, I think I can name all their games from memory.   OK here goes:

  1. Rams (w)
  2. Cowboys (l)
  3. Steelers (w)
  4. Bears (l)
  5. Redskins (l)
  6. 49ers (w) ***
  7. Seahawks (w) ***
  8. Falcons (w)
  9. Giants (l)
  10. Bengals (t) ***
  11. Ravens (l) ***
  12. Cardinals (w)
  13. Giants (w)
  14. Browns (w)
  15. Redskins (l)***
  16. Cowboys (w)***

Hmm…that is just about all of em.   The ones with stars I didn’t watch.   So that was 13 games I saw including the playoffs.   *sigh*.   I’m really not bitter.   I left the Eagles for dead after the second Redskins game, when I showed my luv by starting a fight with an entire bar full of Broncos fans on behalf of the Eagles and they still let me down.   The fight, as it were, was me asking the bartender in Pagosa Springs if she could switch one of the 6 tvs showing the Broncos choking to Bills, to which she replied “What’s wrong with the Broncos?”   To which I replied “Every year they are overrated, every year they collapse, their D is soft, they piss money away constantly on free agent busts, and I hate Mike Shanahan.   Have I mentioned to you people that I hate the Broncos?”   That there were only 4 people in the bar is NOT THE POINT, there coulda been 40 they would have all hit like the Broncos D, I coulda taken em.     The point is – I was ready to throw down for the Eagles, and I still thought their season was done in December.   Making the semis of a tournament is a good accomplishment.   Coulda shoulda woulda – the Cardinals are going to the Super Bowl.

Last night back at the fire station I did not see but heard Kila getting into it again with the pig, so anything is possible.