47 more minutes

And this mutha effer called ott Seven is over. Actually as shitty as it may have been, it was a pretty decent year. Great friends, great rides, new experiences, new house. No need to belabor any points, 2007 is over. Yee hah. Time to focus on feeling good again. What is the saying, "living well is the best revenge"? Not that revenge is the proper word, but I will live well. React as you wish.
Full weekend right off the bat w/ a surprise 30th for my work Homey, G. Then off to mingle with the best bunch of pedalers known to man, the DCCo'D. Then some sweet new MTB trails.
It is all about me. Some may say, "so what is new" some may say "it is about time". I say hopefully the blog entries will be a little more fun to read.

The incredible lightness of being...or

Letting go, to get a grip. With a ton, the past 2 1/2 weeks, of time off from work you really get to thinking. I finally came to peace with something I have essentially being denying for years. I called the person this affected most and let them know. It was a hard call. Immediately after the call I ventured out on the bike, incredibly ironic for those who may of what I speak, for what was to be an easy 90 minutes. I immediately noticed that I was singing to my Ipod. I was going relatively easy, but I felt like everything was light & easy. I was taking in my surroundings and had a weird sense of calm. Next thing I know, I am an hour in and still going west. All I really wanted to do was keep on riding and enjoy the peace and sun. Hell, even a 15-20 mph headwind was not bugging me. I had not felt this a peace with myself in a long time.
So today I checked that last piece of baggage. I offered a heartfelt mea culpa. I let go of that last bit of guilt, and got a good solid grip on where I am at.
A lot has been written about not being able to commit yourself to a future, if you will not let go of your past. Today, I am committing to my future. More on that to come.
Happy Holidays to all.

I did not even miss it

So whilst the rest of the cross troupe was narrowly avoiding hypothermia I decided to play a different type of bike game this weekend. It was BIKE POLO time. Yes kiddies, bike polo. Cases of beer, dozens of sausages and hot dogs, bikes, mallets, grown men who should know better, full contact, open fires, jager shots, yeah it was a damn fine time. Huge thanks go to Matt & Cat to put up with all of this lunacy on their property.
It was great to catch up with some guys I have not seen in far too long. It was like an Aquafina reunion. Bill, Ron, Matt, Kev, Slick, Trdina, Myself. Who knows how long that team could have gone had Trdina not figured out that EASY rhymes with Ngezyi.
Being that I have very little to add to what has already been posted, check these sites for some pics and video.
http://kevososlow.blogspot.com/
http://doucheblogcycling.blogspot.com/
http://theshadowshop.blogspot.com/

I do not care what the final score may have been of the last death match, we still had the team. We lost our emotional spark late in the game. It seems that not only was he wearing women's sunglasses, he was also wearing women's panties. As evidenced by him cowering about and fretting he would be late to a gathering. As soon as little Rocky Blier and his short bus helmet departed we had lost our emotional spark.
That was a damn fine time. Highly recomendo for all.

Vacation Day 2

I am off work until Jan 2nd. I am trying to occupy my time with stuff to do.
Yesterday. Slept in until 10:00 I vacuumed and cleaned the upstairs then went to the shop to mount a tire and pick up my new winter mtb shoes and a cross wheel that i forgot the other day.
Happy hour with work peeps then home. I fell asleep on the couch at 9:30.
Today I finally awoke at 9:30. A rockin' 12 full hours of sleep. Awesome! I proceeded to rewrite/edit the MAC cross rules for the PA series. The PA series needs a little guidance for next year, and I want to make it better. Hopefully the changes will work. It also gives me a little leverage in making sure races are run up to a certain standard. I have spent the last three hours on a project I have been threatening to do for some time. I rewrote/plagarized Hans Christian Andersen's classic book. The emperor's new clothes. I tried to follow the story line by line and apply it to industry. Little did I know my great concept has already been published in such a format. It was fun and it killed some time during a freezing rain, shite day. I may "publish" my little ditty somewhere. I am not too sure. I am certain that some people would find it highly entertaining while others would be less thrilled. I am not so sure Big Colonel enjoys freedom of speech when it is critical.
What to do know. I think I will check my ass for bed and chair sores since I have barely stood erect since 4:00pm yesterday.
KC seems epic. I can not wait to see the pics. I am glad I am missing it though. One harrowing hypothermic cross experience was enough for me.

Life imitating art

So, I went to an awesome holiday party last night. The hosts were superb, the spread was incredible and their home was absolutely stunning. One of the most beautiful I have ever set foot inside. For those who really know me, you know that I love looking at homes. The architecture, the art, the interior colors, just the way everything comes together. This home was incredible.
Sorry, I digress. Back to the title. Since I know very few people at this function, I stay close to my work colleagues. I do not mingle well. I will hold a conversation with anyone, and be very fluent at their level. However, I will not initiate the conversation. So late in the evening one of the guests is introduced to me and we start talking. She asks if I am single. Yes, I am single I reply. Here we go kids, the next question is awesome. Keep in mind I just met this leopard skin outfit lady. Are you gay? No, I am definitely not gay. "Well you never know", was her retort. This is life start imitating Match.com. She askes if I am looking to meet anyone. My reply is somewhat evasive, "I will never say no". Here goes this ladies dialogue "Well I have a friend who I should introduce you to, she is forty-six. How old are you, let me guess. You are, um let me see, I am not so good at this, you are FORTY-EIGHT. How old I reply. "FORTY-EIGHT". Thanks, I think, I am forty. I like to think I am a pretty young forty. "Oh, well, my friend is definitely older than you". That might not be bad though, she says. The next two daggers come quickly. " She has two teenage kids, they are pretty needy". "Are you very spiritual, she is." Um, no, I am agnostic. I do not go to church. I like to think that living by the golden rule is good enough.
Wow, finally it came to an end. Needless to say I will not be going out with a forty-six year old lady, with two needy teens, that goes to church, and I forgot, likes to travel. Yes. This single life is fun.

The last bike game of ott seven

Yesterday was PA State CX champs. I was feeling good and ready to go. The course was fun, and extremely slippy, sloppy and muddy. "true cross" as some say. Bah humbug. True cross is when you get your cross bike, nothing more, nothing less. I do pretty well in slippery mud so I was psyched Challenge tires dialed at 25 psi and time to go. We start off w/ a smallish field and I get the hole shot and go to the front. Then someone comes riding into my rear wheel. Cross newbies do not understand the race is not won in the first thirty seconds. They also do not understand that you can not expect to go really fast and try to make a ninety right in slippery icy conditions. This leads to the neckcracker running into my rear wheel. He just keeps rubbing it and then pushes me left. All the rubbing and the push left skip my rear wheel. Guess what rolled tubie!!!!!! I must partly take the blame because it was taped and not glued. However my other taped tubies stayed together yesterday just fine without neckcrackers running into me.
I stop and start to run to get out of the way. A few people ride into me. Keep your heads up kids. I try to remount the tire for about twenty seconds. It is half off, no dice. I look up and I can no longer see the leaders. Thankfully it is wicked muddy. I rip the tire completely off and start rim riding. I make it a decent distance then have to run about 200-300 meters of mud that others rode, because the rim just cuts straight through the muck. Finally I get to the pit. The announce is saying that I have a very long day ahead of me now. Yes, I do. I am about 2ish minutes back due to this little blunder.
In days of yore I would have let out a monstrous scream of obsceneties. This time, there were none. It was weird. I was actually calm. I knew I could not win the States Gold. I knew that I would need a pretty super ride to salvage my PA State series overall as well. Off I went. I went like absolute hell for the next two laps and reeled in everyone but the top two guys. I had reduced the 2ish minute gap to 45 seconds with two to go. The officials were encouraging me, the announcer was encouraging me, people around the course, my fellow racers. They knew I was going for it. Penultimate lap, I lose 15 seconds to the leader and do not gain on second. Bell lap time to go. Standing whenever possible, running the mud pretty darn fast. Ripping the corners. Then I see Kirk & realize, I can not catch him in the last half lap. I still keep going hoping for some mechanical karma, but no dice. I come across third. Totally gassed. Basically fall down to my knees, in the snow. Through my haze the announcer said I had the ride of the day, maybe the best ride he has seen all year. Who knows. I know I tried my damndest. I hope the show was worth the money.
I appreciate everyone who has given words of encouragement this year. As I said before I hear when you cheer. It is awesome. I heard yesterday when someone yelled at me on my last time up the run-up; "Hebe, stop walking. You do not want me to take a picture of you while you are walking." I started running again, thank you.
Even when the bike game does not turn out the way you would like it to, it is still fun. This year I lost, yes lost THREE races due to mechanicals. It made me a better person. A stronger person. A calmer person. I think I have finally made some sort of peace with myself in the bike game.
So the tally for the cross bike game was as follows.
Fifteen races.
Two wins
Three seconds
One third
Two fourths
All finishes in the top ten
PA series overall win 35+
MAC series overall third 35+
Not too bad.
I heart the cross bike game.
Thanks again to all my friends, acquaintences, sponsors and fellow gamers for meeking ott seven a great year for me.

Sloppy seconds

Went back for some more again today. She was not as pure today. I could see where I rode her pretty hard yesterday. It was still damn nice. Slippin' and slidin' with a good flow & rhythm that can only be achieved by having done it before. It was so nice and pleasant today I even took off my outer layer of protection.
Started the same way as yesterday, backwards. That initial effort is a bit hard, then it all starts to flow nice, quick and steady. Today I decided to ride a little longer. I turned around and came on home from there.
Since this is ripe with double entendre, the clockwise loop of Pinchot will from here on out be referred to as riding Lady Pinchot Doggie Style. The counter clockwise loop will be riding her Missionary. It will be nice when the gents in camo & blaze orange stop trying to invade my ladyfriend.

Nooner with a Virgin

Yeah, yeah don't you wish! Different nooner, different virgin.
Got done early and skidaddled over to Pinchot to poach some fresh snow trails. It was awesome. The perfect way to kill some time before work committments tonight. To spin around with 1-2" of fresh snow was sublime. No tracks but me. The park was mine. Falling snow, fresh trails, no worries, no cares. You can not get lost, just look for your trails. I think tomorrow I will do the same thing, just a little longer.
Today reminded me just how much fun riding a bike can be. No bike game cares, no training parameters. Just me, the bike, the snow, the trails.
Since I am skipping Cross Nats, the next couple weeks will be chock full of anti-gaming fun. Fixie rides, snow MTB, maybe even some bike polo next weekend. While the roadies are gearing up, I am going to enjoy some time on the land of misfit bikes. My 12ish year old SMOR 853 and my CAAD 8 fixie. These buggers sit patiently awaiting their turn. They know how much I love them. They know they bring peaceful happiness and not gaming stress and pleasure.
So my weekly recomendo is to get out and have a nooner. Either kind will do.

Mix tape

So in homage to one of my fave bands, The Black Crowes. Here is my Tall mix tape for a cross race. Keep in mind the sage advice of John Cusack from High Fidelity, paraphrased. Start out strong but a little slow. Let them wanting. The take it up a notch, then more again. Then you need to cool it down a little.
Kind of like a cross race. So here goes.
Thorn in my Pride for the warm-up. Chill, smooth, flowing.
Seeing things. Freak and Roll, Live from the Fillmore. On the line, then the crescendo hits.
Kickin' my heart around. By your side. Full gas.
Go Faster. By your side. Doesn't the title say it all?
Sometimes Salvation. Black Crowes Live. Big guitar riffs and pauses like coming out of a corner and the smack is down.
The race is half done. Time to go steady, hard. Like sitting on Blair's wheel.
Let me share the ride. Freak and roll, Live from the Fillmore
Remedy. The Southern Companion... Thirty five minutes in, yeah I need a remedy for what is ailing me.
Then she said my name. By your side. Yes, friends, we hear when you yell our names. It is awesome. When a pretty girl screams your name, woowee. I never thought a love could be like this. Keep yelling.
Less than a lap to go. What Tall tune will I chose? It needs to be rippin', yet calm.
My morning song. Freak & roll, Live from the Fillmore. Strong fast instrumental jam. Passion and powerful lyrics. Background crescendo escalates, like the tension in the last half lap. It keeps going, building, building, higher, higher, stronger, faster. It's a thrill a minute plane ride. It's overtime at ring side, no lie.
See you Saturday.

Don't ask, don't tell or...

putting the "fun" in dysfunctional.
Thanksgiving has come and gone. At least this year was more enjoyable than the great '06 debacle. I was able to see family and friends, eat well, drink a few, hear some tales and generally have a pretty good time. A few interesting observations and recaps in chronological order. Sweet single speed road ride for 2.5 hours. It really is amazing how fun just riding can be.
Wednesday eve the shop crew headed out for some food and drink. Very fun. Great reminiscing was to be had. Very nice to see everyone out having a good ole time. Thursday brought more singlie road action on some roads I have not been on in a great while. Another 2.5 hours in just shorts and a ss jersey. Perfect ride to empty the tank for a Turkey day gorging.
This led to what may have been the Star Chamber of Stubbornness dinner. My grandfather, the king. My Mom, the rightful heir. Myself, the apprentice who may have taken all the wisdom and passive aggressively surpassed the prior generations in "prove me wrongness". Dinner was great, absolutely delectable. The king commenting on too much food. The heir retorting, not to worry there are leftovers. The worthy apprentice smiling inside knowing that I have indeed inherited the kingdom of skills.
Friday brought the whirlwind trip to the bucolic land of dysfunction. A visit with my 95 year old Grammy who is still pretty damn sharp. A dinner with my dad and a Scotch laden visit with my uncles. The fact that my dad does not really speak with his brothers makes this a unsettling visit. My uncles are extremely funny and great people to be around, at least for Eric & I. For my dad, another story. Don't ask, don't tell. As long as every one's head is in the sand, it is all good right? Listening to my Uncle's speak of their exploits was damn funny. Experiencing this while my dad is three miles away refusing to partake is damn uncomfortable. Who knows.
Less than twenty-four hours after the grand depart to Bucolia, we start back. Sometimes I wonder, at what point does this all become yet another bridge I burn and walk away from?
Saturday brought cross race work, bike repairs for sale items and college football. Today brings more cross race work, some riding and finally some much needed computer upgrades. Then two generally unproductive days of work until 100% cross race focus.
I have really hit an ambivalence wall. I am tired. It has been a long and stressful year. I do not feel like going to Nats. I really have not given my race all the attention it needs. Work is unstimulating. Personal life and the hope/chance of meeting anyone is on indefinite hold. Maybe some hot model/cyclist will fall from the sky in the upcoming future. I really need to make some concrete decisions pretty soon.
Off to the course.

Under the cover of daylight 11/20

I made it. There were days where I did not think that I would.
Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of when I backed up the moving truck w/ Gus and moved out of my own house. In the middle of the day, when most everyone is at work, I loaded up the truck. I snuck out of my home, my old neighborhood, and a part of myself.
This is not a post to lay blame, ask forgiveness, say what if, etc... This is a post to say, "I made it." Here I am. I am very different. I am exactly the same. So when I wake up tomorrow I will be thankful what what I experienced. I will be even more thankful for the experiences that are yet to come.

Guest writer

Seeking guest writer for a post or three. Topic can be anything. Your life, my life, their lives whatever. Send an email and I will post, unedited. roadracer35@comcast.net

Big bike game this weekend

Nats comes early in the form of the USGP. I counted thirty guys with top 10 Nats finishes, in the past three years, in my event. There were another ten with race wins besides that. Sweet.
Line up, ride hard, no excuses. We shall see.
Milestone day next week. Alice's restaurant next week. Turkey day with, filling, mashed tates and gravy, mmmm gravy next week. Fun night out next week. Damn, I got some shit rollin'.
Possibility of wearing just one kit to play ALL the bike games in next year. That would be cool. Almost as cool as the team. Who knows maybe I will even, dare I say it, find even more dirt under the rubber?
Business review with my manager tomorrow. Should be easy.

The Eli Lilly big brother health care blues

OK, I realize I have health insurance. I also realize it is pretty good. My gripe is with the process and billing and payment. I just got the bill for my ER visit from the great BMX incident. It was for $341 dollars. Hmmm. My health plan is to pay 100% of all non-admission ER visits. I was not admitted. Therefore buck up, Anthem. I read the bill and see my health plan refuses to pay due to incorrect coding. WTF! It said X-ray & ER visit right on the statement. What irks me is that I now need to file additional paperwork with my insurance. All the while the bill will remain unpaid and if it malingers too long ends up at a collection agency. Guess who gets the nastygram? Me!
To top that I go to re-enroll in my health plan for '08 and i notice small print from "the Colonel". If you fail to enroll benefits will not roll over. You will be reassigned to an HSA account. Whoaaaa Nelly. Since when can someone be reassignd without consent? Is lack of response consent? If someone approaches me and says "I am going to beat the living shit out of you", and I fail to respond in a timely manner am I giving consent to be pummeled? Out of curiousity I decide to compare my present plan and the HSA plan. My deductibel is $200 in and $200 out of network. That is a scam in and of itself. However, the HSA has a $2,000 deductible! No that was not a typo of one too many zero's. It is a full boat $2k deductible. Seems like a bargain huh? Read on. Every single line item for reimbursement was 10%-20% less with this new plan that people must avoid being reassigned to.
This is such an underhanded way to reduce health care expenditure for Lilly. Really the company should be paying people lioke me for being so healthy 99% of the time.
Damn, that got me in a lather today.
Don't let the bastards get you down!

Huffin' like a junkie

The past two days have been big glue fests for my tubular cross tire woes. It all stems back to some bad karma Leech is sending my way. I was all over him for rolling tubies last year. Well I rolled two this year and Hamdiggler rolled my spare front. In my defense my rolls were while using Tufo tape. I am heretofore rescinding my proclamations of love for gluing tape. Do not be lazy. Take the two or three days and enjoy the glue smell. Three coats rim, two coats tire and I am set. Your tires will stay put and your confidence will as well. Now all is well is cross wheel land. The file treads are ready to rock for Beacon. I am debating gluing a second set of carbon wheels for cross. Yes, that may mean an official "give a damn" departure from road race wheels. Nothing says Richard Feldman like two pair of carbon cross wheels. Throw in matching Colnago C-50's and he may as well be in Belgium.

40, thinning gray hair, skinny, never home on weekends: seeks supermodel cyclist

I think that is what my new Match.com "tag line" will be. Since my ex informed me today that my profile is a topic of conversation at her monthly Bunko gathering, I think I am going to go all out and see who I can attract. I will try it out on my loyal readers.
Me: 40, but act like I am MUCH younger. Maybe too young. Hates to travel, unless it is for a bikegame race. Religion is not important, unless I am puking my guts out at Ray & Nancy's wedding & I am praying to God to make it stop. Well read, Velo News, Cycle Sport and the innernet thing. I have never broken a mirror by staring into it. My body is slowly breaking down. Tattooed, probably will get more. Beer is good. Food is good.
Seeking: Really freakin' hot girl. You should probably race bikes, it is basically my life. Let's make it yours as well. Must despise travel also. Your idea of a long trip is three hors by car. Probably should not like the beach either. I get bored and antsy easily. No need to be religious. You may however scream "oh my god, you are great" while in the throws of passion. Be smart, just not smarter than me.

So there it is. My new profile. Seriously, where does one find a good match these days? At what point do I realize, that I am not a model and a girlfriend need not be one either? The bikegame thing is probably a requirement that will stick. Lesson learned. Plus now that I can look at female bikegamers, I realize how hot they are.
Since being thrust into the world of online "dating" I have realized a few things.
1) All the really hot girls are taken
2) Being a cyclist means DIDDLY-POO outside of our naive little cocoon
3) Online dating is predominantly made up of women who are larger than me
4) I have NO idea how to approach women, even online
5) I enjoy my free time
6) The ones who are hot, have two kids
7) Finding an athletic, slender, good looking, single, no kids girl in Central PA is the proverbial needle in a haystack
So to my faithful readers, hook a brutha up. You know a single bikegamer chick, tell her I am available and not an axe murderer.
Don't let the bastards get you down.

"You look happy"

I have actually heard that a few times lately. Well, thanks for noticing, I feel happy as well. Enough that I submitted my app to be considered for LA Ink. We shall see how it goes.

Scott Molina once told me...

...when this all ceases to be fun, that is the day I will walk away.

Frankly, I was shocked!

Wow! Saturday was shocking in so many ways. I will try to remember as much as possible.
I was shocked how much it rained early Saturday.
I was shocked that I did not flip out when the Blazer died. Yes the Blazer died.
I was shocked that I was psyched to race in the rain.
I was shocked that I went wire to wire.
I was shocked the margin was almost 1:30.
I was shocked that the party prep was quick and painless.
I was shocked that I actually did something social.
I was shocked that I actually threw the party.
I was shocked that 27 people attended.
I was shocked that everyone respected the "cotumes required" rule
I was shocked at some of the costumes. Josh in particular.
I was shocked that Josh brought an effin' Rubic's cube to the party.
I was shocked to hear he solved it three seperate times.
I was shocked that Joe Dirtwrecker put his head in an ice water container for only $1.
I was shocked at the amount of alcohol consumed. 1/4 barrel, three cases, 1.5 bottles of rum.
I was shocked at the fun of the great Marshmallow battle.
I was shocked that the hot tub was 105. That was hot.
I was shocked at the whole party.
All in all it was a pretty awesome 24 hours.

Just in time for Halloween

I have been informed by my family doc that I should seek out a diabetic counselor, so that I can make nutrition changes to control my sugars. WTF! Does she not know it is candy season? How can you tell a sweet tooth junkie to stop the sugar intake around Halloween? The glucose & HbA1c are borderline, 126 & 6.2, for the last year. Nothing to worry about now. You just do not want them to increase. Being the good patient that I am. I will consider modulating my sugar intake. The diabetes education seminar is flat out. Spend two hours to hear, eat less sugars, watch your carbs & exercise. Sweet. No pun intended.
On another stellar health note my shoulder seems to be progressively worsening. It is now making popping sounds. I also have the pleasure of shooting pains when making certain arm movements. If I ever get the rest of my body to feel like my legs do right now, watch out.

Happy places & friendly faces

The first weekend of the MAC. So many good friends and acquaintances, there is hardly time to say hello to everyone. Two awesome events by two top notch promoters. Instead of naming names of everyone I was so happy to see and speak with, I will just say there were so many. I do not want to forget or slight anyone.
About a year ago this weekend is when I essentially stopped spending any free time at my own home, before I moved out for good. I left every Friday and came home Sunday night. No heartfelt goodbyes, no meaningful hellos. What a difference a year makes. I have come to grips with where I am at. It was not in my original plans, however I am pretty happy right now. This weekend further cemented that. I love the scene of the MAC, it makes me happy. The people make me happy. Racing my bike makes me happy. Doing well makes me happy. Hell, even rolling a tubie in warm-up did not really faze me. Yes, the MAC is my happy place. A true labor of love. An athletic community like no other. Everyone should be proud of what we have all fostered.
To everyone I spoke with this weekend, thanks for the kind words. Thanks for taking some of your valuable time to share, even if only a minute of it, with me. This weekend truly was my pleasure. To those I missed, I am sorry. I will catch up soon.
Hell, even the strong possibility of a shit day at work tomorrow can not dampen my spirits.
Don't let the bastards get you down.

Words to live by

A good friend sent me a check for stuff I purchased for the MAC. The MAC truly is a bittersweet passion for me. I love the people, the races, racing, the whole vibe. Note I did not say I love promoting. There is so much work and stress, the toll it takes on you is hard to describe unless you are the person who is in charge. Not to digress, that is another post for another day.

Here is a pic of the piece of paper he wrapped the check in. It is now prominently taped above my office desk. Thanks friend. I hope that I am treating your baby well.

Genius, effin' genius

I do not pronounce to be a Thom Torke and/or Radiohead fan. However, today, I converted. In fact I may even "buy" their new release, "In Rainbows". What makes Radiohead a genius band you ask? Today Radiohead officially changed the game of commerce. I do not mean downloading songs. I do not mean the record industry. Radiohead changed commerce as it is known. This example will be written in Economic textbooks in the future. Are you on the edge of your seat yet? Here goes. Radiohead ended their EMI committment in 2005. They are a world famous band without a label. So what do they do? They release their new release over their website. La dee friggin' da you say. What makes this incredible from an economic supply and demand standpoint is this. You, me, them everyone, we name the price that we want to pay for the release. That is correct. Pay what you like. Take it for free, it is yours. Pay the iTunes equivalent of $.99/song for ten songs and it is yours for $9.99. Take a stand and say the man will not bring the artist down and pay $100.
That is what is genius. A loyal fan base will never screw their idol. People will pay for it. Some will pay more than it is worth, like a public radio pledge drive. Some people are cheap and will take it for free. Radiohead says, that is fine.
Think of what Radiohead has done. They have avoided, packaging, shipping, distirbution, lawyers, contracts, artists, stores, labels, EVERY middleman has been removed. The actual record industry has been removed. From a retail support standpoint this is a scary concept.
What truly blows me away is the pricing. We name it! Hell I may even buy the release because I am so impreesed that Radiohead has balls the size of boulders to do this.
Certain actions change history. Without being over the top, I do feel this will change the face of commerce. Not globally, not product or service wide. However in niche market industries, where loyalty and passion play large parts in buying decisions, this concept is great.
Yorke is so out of the box on this that people will not get it. They will say he is a fool, and he may be. I think the fool will be the band who keeps up with the status quo.
There it is my pick for entrepreneur of the year, Radiohead.

It's just lunch

However it was the best one I had in a while. Food, conversation, company, you name it. Very nice. Cafe Fresco is high on the recomendo list. I am looking forward to the the Pan-Asian joint that is going in across the street soon.
Big weekend race-wise for me this weekend. IC Lite & the real deal IC V. I rarely say I am gunning for the win in a race, however this is one where I am gunning for it. IC V has a 40+ category this year & I plan on going head to head w/ Applegate. He is a prior National Champ and prior IC winner outright. My plan is to be on him like white on rice. I am busting out the go big or go home tire selection for Sunday. Vittoria file treads. Yessireebob. I am rocking the files for a road advantage.
Food for thought from the original roughrider, Teddy Roosevelt.
"Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered with failure, than to take rankwith those spirits that neither enjoy much nor suffer much because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory nor defeat."
An awesome quote, and an equally awesome run-on sentence.
I will dare.

Ohhhhh ffffffffudge

Except he did not say fudge. He said it, the Queen Mother of all swear words. Well actually I am he, and I did not even say it. As Steevo & I were warming up for the Hagerstown cross race yesterday, we happened upon a full-on BMX race track. Being the little kid that I am I could not resist. After a roll through I proceeded to the gates and did a lap. Well, almost a lap. I carried a bit too much speed into what I thought was a large tabletop double. Turns out it was a triple with the unknown bump right in the middle. Strategically placed to catch my front wheel as I aired over the front lip. Keeping in mind we are on cross bikes on a BMX track. Yep, I stacked it hard. I slammed into the third lip with my left shoulder and immediately thought broken collarbone, season is over. Well it is not broken based on my scientific touch test, however the pain is pretty freakin' bad.
Nonetheless let's race our bikes. Race starts a group of nine of us seperate quick. Then down to seven after each FORT guy has mechanicals. Together few some laps and I am thinking man, I can ride the front here. I hold back and keep a rhythm. US Army Gallegher attacks and dangles. Steevo goes after him a few laps later. As he guys I hit the front for a little over a lap to slow down our group of five. Steevo bridges. Long story short, Steevo is a stud and ends up second after some young kid bridges, sits on and then sprints. I feel the pain every time I get out of the saddle. This sucks on the 10 times up a short 42-27 pitch. Eventually NRC road stud Fader drills our group. I rool in 7th. My legs were good, but could not stand. I really feel the shoulder.
Fast forward to now. I did not really sleep because the pain went from dull to excruciating. Add to the fact that I roll around a great deal when I sleep, it was not good. I gave up the battle at 4:45. Yes, I will try to race today. The legs feel great. If the course allows me to stay seated, I will be good. If it has a lot of stnding to accelerate. I am in trouble. As much as my tailbone hurt last week. This is soooo much worse. As a point of reference. It hurts and is a strain to lift a coffee cup, what maybe two pounds.
This one will require a hospital visit later today or tommorow.

Cycling is easy...

...walking is friggin' hard. My hip and calf muscles are blown from walking at Interbike. Lower back is killing as well. Yes, I bet the tourists faired better than I, pain-wise. Lest it be known that Kessel & I walked approximately 10-12 miles on Tuesday, 15ish miles on Wednesday, and another 8-10 on Thursday. Colin what is the TSS score I need to enter for all that shit?
The end result was tiredeness, but not enough to get any real shut-eye on the Thursday red-eye. Got home Friday morning to 2-3 hours sleep & a ton a unpacking and bike work to get some cross bikes rideable.
I finally fell asleep at 11:00 Friday. Two, three hours of sleep in thirty-six. This is where a certain person would be impressed, I slept THIRTEEN straight hours, and woke today at noon. SWEET! Now it is time to go out and see if my 'cross season will happen, or to what extent it will happen.
Coolest thing at Interbike. The homeless guy at the Palazzo. His sign read, "Ninja's killed my father, need money for karate lessons."

At the movies

More on that later.
I had some people over Saturday to christen the new patio, fire pit, and generally have a good ole time. There is something about grilling in 90 degree heat that makes it lose its fun. So as the sun finally set along with Michigan & Notre Dame's seasons, the patio became a very pleasant place to hang.
Quick background, when I purchased my house in May, the owner had already excavated the area to put in a patio. He was transferred before he could finish it. Being that I am the type that knows damn well when I am in over my head, I hired someone to install the paver patio, walkway, firepit & landscaping. It was complete with a week to spare. Saturday was the first time to enjoy it. Enjoy it we did, grilled meats, good beers, nice fire and the coup de gras.
Dogdeball, the movie, was shown at the Hebe drive-in. I was mentioning to my friend's that I have an LCD projector from work that we use for presentations. I can run my laptop through the projector and shine the movie onto a space on my house about 15'x30'. Viola, instant big-screen/theatre size film. Another friend replies, "why don't you just use your neighbors house. There are no windows and you have the whole side of a two-story house. Then & there the Hebe drive-in was born. I set it up and after a brief 2002 Tour of Flanders interlude, we kicked back and watched Dodgeball on my neighbors house. It was awesome. Great friends, and family, food, beer, a little fire going for ambiance.
So they next projects are the infamous Wizard of Oz/Dark side of the moon pairing and maybe the 24 hr Chris Eatough documentary.
Sweet.

Lots of stuff

Hmmm. Lots of stuff since the last post.
I have seem to have found my road legs.
I am excited for cross.
My patio is finished, and it is awesome. Feel free to visit.
The divorce is finally final. Now it is time to take a good long honest look at who and where I am.
I turned 40 today. Happy birthday to me. That means my cross age is 47.
I am having a "Yes I am 40, thank you for being good friends" party Saturday. I can not wait.
My overall health is better. Hopefully the 9/7 appt. confirms that.
I overimbibed at Ray & Nancy's wedding and paid dearly for it.
I had a nice discussion with someone from my past, albeit brief and somewhat sad.
I have said too much at times.
I have bitten my tongue when I should have spoke.
I saw "the girls" last week. They are awesome.
I played with my best little friend, Gabby Miller, yesterday. She is great. I wish I had one just like her.
Vegas is coming up. I am psyched for Interbike.
It is time to Tatt up. Everything is final.
Hobbes is still fat, happy and lazy.
Bruster's is pretty damn good.
I am somewhat excited and ready to meet new people.
I am very scared and somewhat frightened by the same prospect.
I have not had the Blaze for two weeks. I miss her.
I have not had the Impala since Friday, good riddance.
Kia Rondo. Rock band, porn star or rental car? You decide.
Some people close to me have disappointed me with their actions. Not you, Ames.
Some people close to me have surprised me at how much they keep giving and giving.

CAR BACK!!!

After much driving around running bike errands yesterday I tried in vain to make a group ride in Mechanicsburg. I missed by 5 minutes. I took off guessing where they may be going, but to no avail. It was good anywho. JRA. Go hard when I felt like it, easy when I felt like it. Very nice, I like.
As I am in the middle of a hard effort, I approach the bottom of a rise. I see three riders in front of me near the top. Hmmm, yeah I will catch them on the downhill sweeper. I contact the engine room and the furnace responds. I am flying and the downhill is a sweeper left, then over some RR tracks. All of this at about 40ish. As I get closer to the riders I realize this may not be so smooth. Not being sexist here, there are some facts that are inevitable. Women do not decsend as well as men. Especially local training ride women. Now put the aformentioned ladies on TT BIKES and mission control we have a problem. Couple that with the fact that I can decend and corner with the best P 1,2 riders around. I come screaming to the left and the first lady starts to move left then shouts out to alert her two riding partners ahead of her. CAR BACK! Yes, she shouts up car back. In that moment the shit of Christiana faded away. Unfortunately the two ladies in front now decide to take the whole lane and grab handfuls of brake at the RR track. I swing left and double hop the the two sets of tracks and see a car approaching at me. Still enough time to move right and drill the little rise and finish off my hard effort.
I have been called a lot of things, some good and some bad, in my life. Until yesterday I was never called a car. I liked it.
Car back, and proceeding full speed ahead.

Personal best on the suckmeter

Yep, I did it today. A new PB on the suckmeter. Christiana RR. I could not finish off the climb to save my life. Am I tired, from Tuesday still? Am I tired from the two prior weeks of antibiotics? Was the fact that my chain would not stay put when I was out of the saddle in my mind? Probably yes to all three. However in this day and age of zero, zip, zilch, it could not have been my responsibility, lack of accountability. I will say that none of the aforementioned issues were the issue. I just plain sucked and gave up. Yep there it is. I feel like shit because I let myself down and I let my teammates down. There were at least fifteen to twenty guys behind me when I pulled the plug with 24 miles to go. I could have easily kept riding to live on to suck again tomorrow. However I could do it no longer. The suckmeter was pegged and the give-a-fuck guage was on "E".
So there you have it. As I said to my buddy Kyle, "it is amazing how a shitty day can really wreak havoc on a fragile mind and make you not want to race."

What does it take

What does it take to be a leadout rider? I have always related to guys like Lombardi, Sacchi, Steegmans, the Cipo train, the pre-Milram Pettachi train. It is impressive on a couple of fronts. What does it take to know you are so strong that no one can come around you, yet you will finish your race 600 meters from the finish? What about being a world class sprinter and your race ending 100 meters from the finish? What kind of discipline does it take to absolutely place 100% of your aspirations/talent aside for your sprinter? Secondly it is mutha f'in hard to do what those freaks do. Brett Lancaster railing for 1k at 33-35 mph. Then someone like Steegmans takes over from there and crushes the penultimate acceleration for 400 meters at probably 38-40 mph down to 150-200 to go. Then the Boonen, McEwen, Bennati, Pettachi's take over.
So that brings me to this. In the last five years I can count on both hands, maybe even one, where I have seen this happen in an amateur race. Why? Are we not willing to lay it down for a teammate? Do we not practice the drill together? Hard to say. Do you know how hard it is to explain to a non-cyclist that you pulled off at 200 meters to go, while leading, to let your teamate win? People do not get it. Whatever the reason, a lead-out is the ultimate example of teamwork, self-sacrifice, and pure joy when it all goes right.
So since I am back racing some road crits I have been working on leadouts a little bit. I have the physical end down. I think last week at Grandview I got the mental end down to. I knew where I had to get to and I did it. I put my aspirations aside because I knew my teammate is a better sprinter. I trust him and know he appreciates the effort. My race ended 300 meters from the finish and my teammate won the field sprint. Hopefully now I can repeat it, but a little faster.
What does a decent regional 1,2 leadout require? Based on some repeated training data, 500 meters at 35 mph. Those are the numbers. You can/do not look at a PowerTap while doing the effort. You just go as hard as you can then study the data later. The distance seems long enough to start a long way away and the speed is high enough that no one will want to waste energy in the wind. I will let you know how it goes when it matters.

Original work

Blah if you ask me, but I am too lazy to update presently.

Oh I want to believe
There is more to this me
Then it hits me that maybe there isn’t
All the things that I try
As a means to get by
Then it hits me that maybe its futile
Up and down round and round
Covering all new ground
Then it hits me that I’m not a martyr
Where to go, what to do
No more tea set for two
Then it hits me I’m starting all over
Oh to dare mighty things
Take a new set of wings
Then it hits me, a chance of a lifetime
Did I fail, did I learn
A new start for to yearn
Then it hits me the road is wide open
Chance to choose not to lose
Risk the win, payoff huge
Then it hits me, a change to my thinking
Break it down most anyway
Take a chance make it pay
Then it hits me, life is not complacent
Dollar earned penny saved
Live your life now be brave
Then it hits me, its time to get moving
All for me all for you
All for us what to do
Then it hits me, no one is all alone
Looking back if you will
Tough to take bitter pill
Now it hits me

New ink poll

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Mt Snow

After two weeks of no stomach issues, and a good taper, it all went to shit. Literally. I have been dealing with boo boo belly since January. The Protonix was great for two weeks then Blammo. The sure sign to trouble is how many times I can dispens egas from my netherregions after eating. Zero is healthy, that is what it was the past two weeks. Thirty friggin eight after a meal is unhealthy, pre-Protonix. Well Friday at Mt Snow was much closer to thirty-eight than zero. That was followed by enough trips to the bathroom Saturday (8) to read the Southern VT mag three times front to back before my race. I even threw in a sprint to the porta's while on the start line Todd Cassan must have been all kinds of perplexed.
To add insult to injury, my flawless performing bike threw the chain spokeside, not once but twice. Five full minutes to work it out. Seventh to butt-naked last then back to twelth. C'est la vie. I raced hard. Shorttrack was much of the same, minus the chain issues. Great start, then gapped. Twenty second solo bridge, then kablooey when the poo went down with three to go. At least I raced. Huge props to those who cheered. Zach, Ry, Wes, Meg and her friends. That was great.
My teammates totally kicked ass. Mike Yozell who is one of the best runners and bike handlers in 'cross schooled the MTB crew on a single. Natty friggin' champ. Yes, that made me happy. Mike deserved it.
Weston V the 14th was a total, I should be a pro rockstar. Second in the XC & a Natty friggin' champ in the STXC. Man was that fun watching that race unfold and give Wes info. AWESOME!
So that was Mt Snow. I dared mighty things and did not live in the twilight that knows not victory or defeat.

Two down one to go

As my loyal two dozen readers, that may be stretching it, know. I made the switch to MTB racing this year. I needed a break from the road. I enjoy the road, my team and teammates, however it was time for a change. Back in February/March, Ray Adams was kind enough to take me on the VisitPa.com Uberteam. Once he witnessed my mad skillz, how could he resist. As the saying goes, "it is just like riding a bike." The thing is, most people would not want to walk on the trails that I/we ride/race on.
Back to point. I stated two goals to Ray, if he would bring me on the team. I will win the series overall. I will win half of the races in the series. This may sound a little arrogant to some, but I had faith in my cycling fitness. I also knew my skill level will only keep increasing. I also kept one goal in my back pocket, per se. I want to be on the podium at Nationals. The stretch goal to that is the top step. Well I have achieved my first two goals, and then some. I have won all six XC events by pretty solid margins. I have also clinched the series. Now it is time for some personal redemption. I leave for Mt. Snow later today. I am fit. I can ride technical stuff as well as any 40+ rider out there. I am a fair 40+ climber. Saturday we will see how it goes. Before I roll to the race I will again read my lucky Chinese fortune cookie saying from Cross Nats (10th, out of 140ish). It is as follows: Imagine what great things you could achieve if you knew you could not fail.
I aim to make this simple. You either do or you do not. You either will or you will tonight. Trying is for the weak and insecure.
I DO plan on being on the podium. I WILL race my bike accordingly.
Well there it is, two down and one to go.

Belly redux

All is finally quiet on the belly front, literally. Those of the faint of heart non-bathroom rumor should skip the next sentence. The crescendo, literally, hit on July 4th. My arse had as many big bangs as the local fireworks. I counted, yes I counted, 38 blasts from my nether region in a space of four hours. The next day I started some medicine, Protonix, that inhibits gastric acid secretion. Since the first day on the med I have had NO stomach distention, bloating and gas issues. Hoo freakin' ray! My somewhat uninformed medical theorem on this is that my stomach is so laden with H Pylori, which was confirmed via biopsy, that it was working overtime to kill that bacteria. The downside is that H Pylori is the only bacteria that is unaffected by acid production. H Pylori bacteria thrive in that atmosphere and it literally digs deeper into the stomach lining. So as the H Pylori gets worse, the stomach produces more acid, then all that acid reacts very negatively with any foreign substance in the belly, aka food. Problem solved.
I will start a double course of antibiotics after MTB Nats to eradicate the H Pylori. Hopefully, all will be well by the beginning of August.
So for my faithful readers, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can finally eat pain free, imagine that.
Hopefully this turn of events will also bring some blood counts back into line. I have some high monocyte numbers, and have had them for six years. It will be neat to see if that is related to a chronic bacterial infection. That is one of the major reasons for high monocyte levels. If they are still high in September at my physical, then I will adress that issue as well as my very low Parathyroid levels. Damn, it is hard trying to get healthy.

Testing 1,2

So yesterday was supposed to be the big day to figure what is wrong with my boo boo belly. I have had some pretty gnarly GI issues for six months now. The theories have ranged from parasite, virus, gluten allergy, stress from divorce, GERD and a few more I probably am forgetting.
Two weeks ago I got the blood test showing I was positive for H Pylori. I also had high Calcium and monocyte levels. MONOCYTES and MONOCYTE COUNT - Elevated levels are seen in tissue breakdown or chronic infections, carcinomas, leukemia (monocytic) or lymphomas. In combo H Pylori & Calcium are sometimes predictors other fun stuff.
So I had the endoscopy & biopsy yesterday, which confirmed two things. I have a small slipped Hiatal hernia. This is not so bad, and does not need surgery. Basically a small part of the stomach slips through the hiatus in the diaphragm. I also have a one cm erosion on my esophagus. This is known as Barrett's esophagus. Barrett's esophagus, untreated, greatly increases the risk of esophagial cancer. So now I am taking Protonix to cut down my stomach acid, and will need to make some lifestyle/dietary changes very soon. Hold on kids, this is where it gets bumpy. The big three are no-no's. Caffeine, chocolate and alcohol. I can hear the collective gasp from everyone, even before they read this.
The gastro also requested a Parathyroid test to see if one of the glands has a tumor. That would explain the elevated Calcium levels, as well as my inability to concentrate, constant tiredness, and some of my depression. Hopefully by next Monday I will have ALL of the information at my disposal and go from there. At this point I am really hoping for the PTH levels to show that one has a tumor (benign) and it can be removed. Then all I need to do is make some changes, albeit quite large for me. We shall see. Time to finish my coffee, no sense in rushing into the changes, and go for a nice long leisurely ride.
Happy Independence Day.

How to squeeze one ton of...

fun, into 48 hours? Attend the VisitPA.com MTB race & festival weekend. There were so many highlights to the weekend that I can not hit them all. Some for me were the following.
Camping out for the first time in fifteen years, night racing for the first time since 1996, comraderie of friends, teammates and competitors, XC course, fifth straight XC win, clinching the MASS series, hanging out with no worries or committments, Frank Brigandi on guitar, Andy & Mike on Mother Goose rhymes, marshmallow guns, that damn billfrog, great breakfast with Ry's Aunt & Uncle, STXC ( I wish I could corner an MTB like the big 'uns), Memphis Blues BBQ in the VIP, zip line, potato gun, punk 'n rip, huffy toss part deux.
What an incredible weekend.
Thanks to Mike, the Oesterlings, the Kuhn's and all my friends who made it so enjoyable.

Whew, at least I am not pregnant

Well the sonogram, yes sonogram, ruled out pregnancy as a stomach issue for me. That sure is reassuring. Step three in the medical process of determining my GI ailment is done. GP, Gastro, Ultrasound, next up is endoscopy & biopsy, followed more than likely by the beloved colonoscopy. I should get all test results after the endoscopy next Tuesday. I just need to wait on more bloodwork and the colonoscopy after that. So hopefully something is nigh.
A funny anecdote came from my endoscopy scheduling. The nurse sadi I could get it done yesterday or today, when I was scheduling two weeks ago. I stammered and replied, "I have a big race that weekend and really do not want to interfere, I know that is stupid." She retorts back in a absolutely beautiful sly sarcastic tone. "No problem, you have put this off for six months already, another week will not hurt." It was priceless.
So I am not feeling well, GI wise, yet again. As John from Cincinati says, "I had a man-size dump today." Sorry for the candor of info, but this was part and parcel of my GI hell. Hopefully all resolves quickly as the coolest MTB race on the planet is this weekend. More to follow. I think I will do another pictorial update of the Farm stage race.

The day in pics

I have been putting in the hours at the shop of late. It is a good thing, that way I can stay occupied. Below is the cast of charecters, minus our boy Reds Snoresney.


The Man, Big Al.

Best buddy & little buddy.

So this is what a pro looks like? Clown on the right.

Now that is pro.

Old school wrench, Jeff.

Guess the shaved/bald guy. I am a "mechanic", not a magician.

Good times. Crazy customers. A guy is pissed that a used wheelset has some minor cracks and has to get it fixed. I end up selling him a new $300 set and he thanks me profusely for making his day. Keep in mind, that as all bike gamers know, $300 retail is pretty freaking cheap. I have two sets that are double that cost, at 20% under wholesale. Lady brings in a bike with the tire mangled and the tube wrapped around the fork. I am snapping pics as Al tells her it will cost $70 to fix all her bike issues. She replies that she paid $70 for the bike at Wal-Mart. Yes, please fix it. WTF!?!?! A guy is in with his son. Son wants to start racing, dad thinks he will be great. I end up showing them all high end carbon. Time, Trek, Lemond, Giant. I bet the kid gets a TCR 1 as his first bike later this week. This will be a $3,000 sale, for a first bike. Holey moly. DAAA was in the shop. He still managed to give Ray shit for not riding a RIGID single blingle at Stoopid 50. Daaa, gears are for queers. Just wait until he sees the new 31'er from Fisher.

For all those who play along in Legendland and patronize/hang out at shops, do yourself a favor and rent High Fidelity. This movie just substitutes a record shop for a bike shop. I made this connection about five years ago with the shop. It totally fits. NYCbikesnob also wrote about this recently.

Off to a work meeting Monday-Wednesday. I am sure I will have some stellar material.

State of disrepair

Man was I wrecked after Neshaminy. No offense to anyone in the 40+ class, but I shut it down with 2 laps to go. Not two 1 mile crit laps, mind you. Two 6 mile 37-40 minute mtb laps. I could tell my body was a hurtin' unit. That race was a new level of suffering, mental & physical for me. Had it not been for Ray's parents who were handing up bottles or Ray/VisitPA.com who paid my entry I may have thought of bagging it.
The course was so sweet, but the 95 temp and three thousand logs turned my lower back into a knotted mess. After years of 75-90 minute crits, a 2:30 mtb race with an avg HR of 173 is a whole new level. So today, Wednesday, I am still tired. I may need to race the road this weekend so I get some efforts, without the beating.
On the GI note my gastro appt went as I expected it. Questions, poking, prodding and schedule an appt for an endoscopy/biopsy. So my Independence day starts a day early with the appt on the 3rd. At least then I will know what, if anything, is amiss in the upper GI. If I "fail" that test then I get the good fortune of the "output" end scope.
On the ink note, I think I am going to make an appt this weekend to run a design idea by an artist. The one I really want may be a little too big to cover/mesh with the present design. I saw another cool Phoenix (mythical bird, as if you did not know) design that would be cool. If you wonder why the Phoenix, do some quick reading as to what the bird is and I think you will agree that it fits pretty well.
Past was good, future is better.

Guess the "healthy" one

I have kept the blog basically "image free" until now. Hopefully I will not digress into some crack whorish fix for pics. Today's image is basically a metaphor for the blog, and me for that matter.

It is guess the "healthy" ankle quiz. Which, like myself, even when "healthy" I am still a little misshapen if you will.

I broke a bone on the side of my ankle & severely sprained it warming up for a race. I then proceeded to the ambulance for some tape and a small Mexican Pharmacia worth of Ibuprofen and proceeded to race. Yeah baby, I still won. Small race, but a win nonetheless. Legendary, is it not? Oh SNAP, I am a doper! Oh no, I suck. Just read the wristband.

I hope the MASS Blue Coats are not piss testing tomorrow.

School was in session tonight

I got to ride with Banana Smallhamfudgepeckerpacker tonight. Man was that fun. We rode at the Oesterling farm. I sat behind Kyle for two hours and learned what it is like to ride fast lines. We were ripping some of the coolest flowing singletrack around. At damn near forty years old and many moons in the amateurish bikegaming biz, I was learning like a 12 year old tonight. When to brake, where to slide, when to flow, when to hammer. Damn good fun. It felt good to be riding right behind someone that good ( do not let it go to your head Kyle, remember job description #5). The hillclimb was only slightly "fun". 900 feet vertical in a little less than 1.5 miles. The decent was nice. 45.4 mph, 41 mph sprint on the flat and that little guy still came around after I thought I dropped him.
A ride or two like that each week and my MTB form will rip around pretty quicklike. Yes, I feel like I am far from form.
On another note, today was yet another bad GI day. Cramping and Ethiopianesque bloating throughout the day. We finished riding and I graced Kyle with a side profile of my 4 months pregnant belly. I gave it the Thimmy Kamala the Ugandan Giant pat down.
I can wait until the gastro says, " I really want to 'scope you." Yes please.
Good times. Oh the road keeps getting harder to go back.

Oh, this is rich

Piepoli's team-mate David Millar has had his share of doping drama. The 30 year-old spent time under suspension after admitting EPO use, and has since become an antidoping advocate. He gave his team-mates the benefit of the doubt, according to AFP. "They are not-negative. Leo has a certificate for asthma. Iban has a testosterone history. It is necessary to give them the benefit of the doubt," Millar declared. "One cannot never be sure with hundred percent certainty, it is always necessary to have doubts. In my personal opinion, they deserve my trust. If I am misled, it would be a pity. That would break our friendship."
You have got to be F'ing kidding me!?!? Millar, yes the same Millar, who so sadly admitted to EPO. Crybaby pussy! That fuck only admitted to EPO once he was caught with the needles in his possession. How many Cofidis riders did little Davey sell out? He even blamed his TWO times usage to the pressures to get results from management. Hmmm, you are hired to do a job. Your employer expects that you do that job. Welcome to life Davey. You damn well know that Davey was going to be hush hush and ride the EPO gravy train right to the World Champion bank. Now that cheesedick has the audacity to say it would be a pity if HE were mislead. WTF Davey!
I hope that scrawny little Piepoli takes Millar behind the woodshed and beats him senseless with the riding crop form Millar's moral high horse.
My advice to riders.
You are paid as cyclists, not speech writers. Keep your day job, and as the great motivational speaker Matt Foley once said, " keep yer damn yap shut!"

Pleased to meet you...

won't you guess my name.
After five long, stinky, painful, gastrointestinal distress filled months I finally went to get a second opinion. Dr's Weaver & Miller had made the diagnosis of Celiac, and it seemed pretty close. Being that I do not want to give up bread, pasta or beer I opted to go with a little more in depth medical expertise.
I got the call from the doctor's office that I needed to call back to speak with the doctor. OK, no problem, something is amiss. At least now I can pin it down. Well I call and am told I am positive for Helicobactor Pylori bacteria. Well at least I have a name for the proverbial face. The shit of it is (no pun intended), that is akin to walking on a Ford dealership lot and the dealer pointing to the lot and saying there is your new Ford. WTF!?!? Which one? What does it do?
I do not even know if it is a live and thriving bacteria, or if it has been in my belly for years. Supposedly H Pylori causes/predicts ulcers. I have no symptoms to suggest that. To make things worse the past two days have been bad GI days for me. Pain, bloating and repeating like a howitzer. I can not believe I am looking forward to having fiber optic tubes inserted and threaded through the old upper and lower openings in the near future.
There are a few other values that are mucked a little high, that may or may not be additive and point to other things. That is for the specialists to figure out. It has been five full months already, another month surely can not make matters worse.
I will say this. I am sick and friggin' tired of being sick and tired.
On another truly depressing note.
It takes, on average, ten years for someone to get correctly diagnosed with Bipolar disorder from disease onset. One in five people with Bipolar disorder will commit suicide. These are the fun things I learn and get to speak about every day.

Persona, Persona non grata

So lately a friend and I have been having this ongoing discussion of image, personality, imposed personality and their interplay. The great, or not so great thing about the Internet is the anonymity that it perpetuates. There is next to no accountability, and anyone can become just about whatever they damn well please. This, all to this pleasure and dismay to anyone who sits in front a screen and perpetuates the debacle.
The intriguing part of daily life is that you only have to try just slightly harder to achieve the same end, and do it right in front of someones face.
So, the discussion had been mostly centered around the fact that very few people really know the real you/me/him/her deep down. What I wear to work perpetuates the myth that I am a true white collar professional. Yet what I wear while practicing for the bike game or working/hanging at the bike game shop, perpetuates the ruse that I am a gamer. The everyday Joe/Jane will have the gilded impression on either side of the dime. At once I am the "man" and an hour later I am a slacker that should get a "real" job. The truth in this great debate lies somewhere in between. Then comes the twist that my friend and I speak about. This is one where you purposely inhabit a personality to go along with what believe perceive, or what you want to convey at that particular time. Sometimes as a joke, sometimes a joke taken to far. If anyone has seen the "podium shoes" you will know what I mean.
So what really is my/your persona? It probably is something, but a handful of people really know, and a busload think they do.
These days I can guarantee you that my real persona is masked well under the podium shoes, Jos. A Banks suits, VisitPA.com bike gaming kit, the tattoos, the house and this silly originallegend diatribe. The few that are "privileged", and or cursed, to really know my persona understand where I come from.
The part of this debate and dilemma is that I/you/we have all done something to inherit the persona non grata we at times try to escape, and we all will still do our damnedest to keep it alive.
Don't mind me. I am going to slip on my podium shoes & VPA.com kit and practice my victory salutes in front of a full length mirror, while sipping a $15 bottle of Delirium Tremens that I poured into my Jeff Gordon #24 pint glass. All this while Hank Williams Jr and Kid Rock blare in the background.
Like I said the truth lies somewhere in between.
Be nice.

Empathy is not always a good thing

I just spent forty minutes writing about my day at work and the impact of mental health disorders. It was far too depressing to publish. I deleted it.

I love you, I hate you!

You define me.
You defy me.
You make me feel good.
You make me hurt.
We have our ups.
We have our downs.
We are one.
We are two.
I am always there for you.
You are always there for me.
I shown you places no one else could.
You have taken me where only you could take me.
I always take care of you.
Yet, you sometimes break down on me.
You have provided some great days.
You have broken my heart before.
I have a heart.
You are heartless.
That is the difference in our relationship.
Without you I am not the same person.
Without me you will find someone else.
I love you!
I love you, my lovely bike(s).

Gotcha!
Yes, this is about my bike(s). After over twenty years the love burns as strong as ever. Something as simple as a bike really can test the limit of human emotion. As shitty as I have felt both physically and mentally the past few months, once I get pedalling it all disappears.
I wonder if i could write off $150/hr for bike relaxation therapy?

Close your eyes and envision

Chris Farley in the tight leisure suit as Matt the self-help guru from Saturday Night Live. He is speaking with Riis, Zabel, the rest of Telekom, all of MG-Geweiss, Musseuw, Hamilton, Basso, Bartoli, Armstrong, Landis, Meirhagge, Chiotti, F'ing tricky dick Virenque, anyone who ever raced for Festina, Rooks, Theunisse, etc... you get the idea.
So, Farley hikes the pants in the front & the back and starts in on them.
Farley: La De Freakin' Da, you all doped. No kidding. No you want to confess, boo frakin' hoo be a man.
Group ensemble: sorry Matt we thought it was time to come clean.
Farley: (Incredulously) Clean, clean, what in the name of God's green earth do you mean clean.
Ensemble yet again: (Sheepishly) Well we, uhh, you know, uhh for the better...
Farley: (Hikes the pants from the front and the back) You are all freakin' girls! You are all freakin' junkie liars. You know where junkie liars end up.
Ensemble: (quizzically puzzled blank stare) Riis, Holm and Aldag meekly reply "Team directors"
Farley: NO!!!! YOU END UP LIVING IN A VAN, UNDER THE BRIDGE, DOWN BY THE RIVER!

Fade out as Farley pratfalls into a row of Cervelo & Giant bikes.

There was never an intention to come clean until the heat turns up. I guess that means Hamilton & Armstrong are truly pathological.

All apologies to the great SNL skit writers.

And this is a surprise how, part deux

http://www.cyclingnews.com/news.php?id=news/2007/may07/may25news

F'ing Riis. We all know you doped. Mr 60%. Yeah, you were clean as a whistle.

And this is a surprise, how?

http://www.cyclingnews.com/news.php?id=news/2007/may07/may24news2

As I have said before, I firmly believe that most of the pro bike gamers were dopers in the 90's. They all answer straightfaced and say they never doped. I call Bullshit, you just never got caught thanks to your own personal centrifuge.
I really could care less. Sports are theatre, entertainment. Entertain me. Part of me is actually of the capitalistic, Darwinism bend of thought that says, let them dope. Ride faster, entertain me more, die quicker. Hell 33% of the pro pel are asthmatics, how convenient. I am surpised that more are not anemic, if you follow along. Maybe some latent childhood ADHD, Narcolepsy or insulin resistance.
Were does this Merry go Round stop? The gamers work in an essential police state environment with a clandestine judicial proceeding. At what point do the innocent have their rights respected.
Riddle me this Batman. Say "The Man" knocks on your HOME door before you go to work and says, "follow me, we are peeing together this morning." Better yet, "wake up sunshine, I am sticking a needle in your arm and sucking some blood." I just want to see what we got going on in your body today. That is every day for some bike gamer.
My overarching points are these:
Mea Culpa my ass. I do not believe for a second you did EPO once. Millar, Zabel, Basso. LIARS!!
10-15 years ago has no bearing on the present.
Police state justice is out of control.
There will always be cheaters. Hell I race against them, even on the local level.
I do applaud Slipstream, CSC and T-Mobile for their stance.
Who knows, this whole thing is just getting old.
Gotta go, my centrifuge just stopped. Time for my daily injection to be ready for Tour de Tykes.
H-crit is up to 57, Riis eat your heart out. I heart dopers!

New ink

I have been tossing some ideas around in my head for some new ink lately. I am not really sure what to get done. I am sure Dr. Weaver will read this and cringe.
So the concept is around new beginnings, living (joie de vie, per se) and cycling. I presently have a upper arm tatt of a nickname for Amy. I do not want to destroy the tatt, but I no longer want it to be focal. It is a Japanese symbol for Pi. Basically a Pi symbol with three bars on the top and two thin bars on the left side. I like the symbol and also the concept of Pi being undefinable and ongoing. My quandry is do I make designs around the symbol or do I incorporate into a cover-up. I was thinking a cover-up with a Phoenix and a flame design. This would also meet my rebirth, rise from the ashes theme.
I am not a fan of bands, so no bike chain band around my 13" pythons. I am not a sleeve person either, but would not be averse to a large total shoulder area fill-in. What to do, what to do.

A funny thing happened on the way to the Coliseum

I have now fully realized how fun racing a MTB is. From the courses that challenge you physically & mentally, to the atmosphere, to the people involved. The mountain scene is like a backyard picnic, while the road scene is like a corporate evening of forced fun. Do not get me wrong, I love racing on the road. The biggest difference is that the competitors are so much more factioned due to team "obligations" or some fantasy about being the next 12k dreamer. It is nice to race your bike and let the strongest fight it out with the course and the competition. There is no sitting in here. The mountain scene also quickly delineates talent. I can race any 1,2 crit in the are and be a factor. If I were to race Elite Mtb I would be fighting for probably 10th-15th on a good day. Talent rises, pretenders fade. Maybe that is why I have so enjoyed cross for all these years. If you put the efforts in, it will show.
So lately I have been on the Flyin' Ryan training plan. Do not exceed 8 hours and then go kick ass. Time to turn the amp to eleven and Spinal Tap out to some big weeks. Oh yeah, I will break the Leech secret. He rocked a 16ish hour week the other week. Look out Hamboner, you and you pre-school possee may be in for some VPA hurtin'.
Enough for this morning. I am finally gettin batteries for my digi so expect some pics the project bike. It was a big hit at Granogue.
Have a good week all.

Who will stop the rain?

Interesting day yesterday. I helped my good friend Nina with her golf tournament fundraiser for the Mark Encin Foundatio. Mark was Nina's husband. He passed about a year and a half ago from malignant melanoma. He was diagnosed in the very late stages and fought like hell, but ultimately succumbed. I really did not know Mark so well, but I always enjoyed my time around him. Nina started a foundation to support melanoma research. The golf tourney is a first step to what I hope is a long endeavor. So many people were so generous that I was truly amazed & humbled. Long story short $12k was raised for two research institutions. For more info on the foundation and Melanoma read here. I had a great time being a very small part of this worthwhile cause.
It is always hard to watch people close to you experience emotions of sadness and grief. Yesterday was no different. The very unfortunate part was that these emotions did not stop at the golf outing. I received a call at 4:00 letting me know that one of my customers who I really enjoy seeing has suffered a tragic and senseless loss. There is no way to even try to quantify the magnitude, except that I feel there is no greater loss a man can experience. At 12:45 pm yesterday a piece of shit with a gun walked into this gentleman's office and shot my customer's wife. Mary died shortly thereafter in the ER. The Moola's have two high school aged children that, when they returned home from school, now have no mother. Jag no longer has his loving wife and friend. I do not understand what can make a person take another's life. Mary was always very nice and pleasant to me. I can only imagine how nice she was for her close friends and family. I can not comprehend eating lunch with your spouse then five minutes later you return to your office to the horror of your spouse being shot.
I will not pontificate about Mental health issues, gun ownership or commensurate criminal punishment.
Dr. Moola, my thoughts are with you and your children today.

Yeah, baby, yeah

I was/am all full of myself with the completion of my new project mtb. An STXC machine. The bike is a one-of-a-kind HEBE brand (note the headbadge). It is the old (10 years) theoriginallegend.blogspot.com model
Yeah baby, the power of the Sharpie.
Here it is
Smorgasbord custom 853 10+ year old steel frame
PACE Carbon rigid fork
Bontrager carbon flat bars & X-lite stem
Schwalbe Fast Fred rubber
Thomsen post
Airione saddle
And the coupe de gras. DURA-ACE 10 speed bar end shifters mounted to a Paul Thumbie
Dura-Ace Read derailleur
Dura-Ace 11-21 cassette
Single 36 tooth front ring w/ custom Hebe design Race Face guard. Trick & tricky
Eponymous & pretentios all at once. That is how I roll. YEAH, BABY YEAH!
I am feeling randy.

Blowin' out the carbon

From my legs, mind, belly, ass
All this achieved in one short visit to Happy Valley. For all yoy JoePa psychos I roade by his home. OOOHHH so mystical. Regular guy, regular house, not a deity.
So I worked with a new rep yesterday in Altoona then bolted off to State College to see my good friend Ry. I always enjoy time around him as he challenges me to think more than I normally do. The conversation is always good and thought provoking. The type that really makes you think about the topic you are forming/supporting an opinion around. Dude can also pedal a bike. I guess being a friggin National Champ tends to make that an understatement. Yesterday was an awesome mix of new and different roads as well as dirt road and SINGLETRACK riding. Yes, full on singletrack on a road bike with 130psi in the tires. Damn it was fun. I had to lay low so as not to destroy his fragile legs. Not really. If you have never ridden singletrack on a road bike, do it. Very fun. It also is imperative to have the proper weight distribution and finesse to make it work. Thanks dude. Good ride.
Zipped downtown for dinner at MadMex. Had the good fortune to be in the throngs of co-eds who were not yet born when I graduated high school. With graduation this weekend at PSU the seniors have nothing to do but party all week. Food was delectable and huge portions. After a little nap it was back the MM for some Tequila. MMMM tequila. A couple of large Margarita's and I was ready to crash.
Then back to the grind of work. I had a great discussion with a doc who is going into a new private practice. Some times it is very rewarding to be a drup rep. That was one of those times.
More to come soon

The best/worst kept secret

The times, they have a changed. Being that about a whole dozen or so people know this drivel actually exists, I guess I am writing more for myself.
After twelve very good years of marriage things started to spiral last March. The reasons are not of any great consequence, and since this is a bully pulpit medium it is not fair to Amy to go into them where she can not fairly reply. Then in September the bottom basically fell out. By November Amy and I decided to seperate and ultimately divorce. Our divorce will be final in about two months, I believe. Throughout the past six months of living on my own I have experienced a vast realm of emotions. I have has the good fortune of a lot of very great friends, you know who you are, lend me support. Without them and my family I would not be where I am at presently. To list all of the people who have been so kind, giving, understanding with me would be a disservice because I know I would leave someone out. I want to take another time to say thank you.
So, here I am now. I have made it out alive (figure of speech, not literal) and I will be a better and wiser person. I am sure that, ultimately, Amy will be a better and wiser person as well. So there, I have said it publicly. I have accepted my lot in life and what brought me to where I am. Now it is time to start another chapter of this great adventure. I hope that with the support, love, laughter of my great friends and family I will go on to have forty more years to pester all of you with my inane nonsense.
I am not about to dispense wisdom, learnings or advice. Obviously all three of those little nuggets should be taken with a grain of salt.
Tomorrow I will get up, go to work, ride my bike, enjoy my friends and live my life to the fullest that I can. I will do the same the next day and the next and hopefully for many thousands thereafter.
Funny thing happening as I close. Those who know me know my love of music. Those who know me well, know how I internalize and relate to lyrics. As I close this entry, The Verve tune "Lucky Man" just came on Itunes shuffle. Yes, I am a very lucky man for all that I have experienced, and all that I will experience. It may not seem like it at times, but yeah Sister Luck has definitely called out my name more times than not.

Random race thoughts

I still love racing my bike.
I love the scene, the people, the personal challenge.
I do not enjoy when that is spoiled in some respect.
Branchbrook was the first time I was actually freaked out while racing.
If you use the porta-pots, slide the freaking handle shut.
Nice touch at LP to place Human Zoom reading literature in the porta's for us. Sunday Philly paper would have been cool also.
Smoother course mean more bozos are there at the end.
Some people still think sprinting for 50th is cool.
Crit racing is NASCAR, think about it. It really is.
Bike racing distorts ones reality.
Wheelsets are now more expensive than bikes, when I started racing.
Everyone has a pair of those wheels, if not two pair.
Teammates make or break the racing experience.
EVERYONE, keep your day jobs.
Stay safe, stay fun, enjoy the ride.
Twain was once quoted as saying, "there is nothing so pure as a boy and his bicycle."
I would hate to have that spoiled.

I heart TV

Yes, there, I said it. I LOVE TELEVISION! If you so decide there are no shortages for entertainment. Especially when it is viewed on a 60" HD set. I have become smitten with MHD. It is a music station , that get this, actually plays music. I just watched the Isle of Wight festival with the Who & Bowie. Amazing music, amazing pic. Except that you can see how craggly Daltry & Bowie are up close.
Seriously, I never understood the "kill your television" crowd. TV is entertainment, nothing more, nothing less. If your stance is on the dumbing down of America, should you not kill your laptop, or kill your local theatre troupe? They are forms of entertainment. After a day of work or a ride, I want to be entertained. I want to experience something that I can not experience without this medium. I will never work an Alaskan crab boat, I will never go to Scotland for a concert, I will never build a motorcycle, I can not easily get to NYC to see aplay. I can do all these things from the comfort of my couch for less then the cost of a venti mocha-nilla frappa-chi half-fat all pretense no whip triple lindy americano machiatto.
To my TV hating peeps out there, you have missed the boat. Kick back relax and be entertained. Do not look at your set for education, although you easily can. Look at your set for sheer entertainment. Sit back watch a show and smile, you will be better off for loving your telly. Really, it is OK. Now, go hug your telly, especially since Sanjaya is leaving Idol.

525 thousand 600 minutes

How do you account for a year?
Watching RENT right now and forgot how much I enjoy that musical. Eric, Amy & I took my mom to see RENT in Philly for Mothers' Day years ago. Great show, good times.
Seriously, as the song goes, how do you account for a year?

- Seasons of Love Lyrics
Five hundred twenty-five thousandSix hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousandMoments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousandSix hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand Six hundred minutes
How do you measure A year in the life?
How about love?How about love?How about love?
Measure in love Seasons of love. Seasons of love
Five hundred twenty-five thousandSix hundred minutes!
Five hundred twenty-five thousandJourneys to plan.
Five hundred twenty-five thousandSix hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man
In truths that she learned,Or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned,Or the way that she died.
It's time now to sing out,Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate Remember a year in the life of friends
Remember the love!Remember the love!Seasons of love!
Oh you got to got to Remember the love! remember the love,
You Measure in love know that love is a gift from up above
Seasons of love. Share love, give love spread love
Measure measure your life in love.

After 525 thousand 600 of the most trying minutes of my life, I segue to Finale B

There is no future
There is no past
Thank God this Moment's not the last
There's only us There's only this
Forget regret or Life is yours to miss
No other road no other way
No day but today
I can't control My destiny
I trust my soul
My only goal
Will I lose my dignity
Will someone care
Will I wake tomorrow
From this nightmare
Just to be
Without You
The hand gropes, The ear hears
The pulse beats, Life goes on
But I'm gone
There's only now
There's only here
Give in to love Or live in fear
No other path No other way
Cause I die Without you
I die without you
I die without you
I die without you
I die without you
I die without you
No day but today
No day but today
No day but today
No day but today
No day but today
No day but today
NO DAY BUT TODAY!!

Lyrics courtesy of original RENT score.
Sentiments courtesy of my cluttered mind.

I will start over again tommorow and look forward to the next 525 thousand 600 minutes where I will live and I will love. That is the measure of this man

Dinner

Sweet Potato souflee
Toasted whole wheat bagel w/ grilled chicken and cheese
Granny Smith apple w/ Crazy Richard's organic extrra crunchy peanut butter
Penn Brewery Pilsner

Uninspired

Yes I am. Tons of shit going on lately. I just do not feel compelled to share. Some stuff is much more personal than others. In due time I will spill the beans. Time to go house hunting.
It is amazing how thin veils are these days, is it not?

Hooda thunk it

I have an itch that needs a scratchin' Not the one in my middle back which is dry like the Sahara & real itchy. Double time with the shower brush. Oops, back to point.
In a slightly hypo manic phase this week I deemed it necessary to race my mtb a few times this year. Yes, I said mtb. I actually raced mtb for 4-5 years in the early 90's. In fact I will be racing the steed from that long gone era. A custom geo SMORGASBORD 853 steel is friggin' real ride. From what I remember the SMOR is from '97. Ten years young and still sub 23 lbs.
So I got her ride, not race, ready the past few days. With the addition of a new Manitou R7 fork and some Easton bar/stem swag ( thank god Bell sports is distributing Easton now) on the way I will be set. I replaced my indexed headset with a sweet green King fron Benny today. It looks sweet with the faded green decals and orange frame.
So tomorrow I ride with the royalty of Central PA mtb. Weston V the 14th, Manzarek & Nance. Michaux for 3-4 hours. I hope the fork holds out.
More to report Sunday.

Walk a mile...

... in my shoes at the present time. Go ahead I dare you.
It has been one body blow after the next.

Sing to the cadence of Sorry Somehow, Husker Du.

Friends and fam don't know what to say, hold you with kid gloves
Yeah I know words are tough, just send a little love
Nights are short and days are way too long, just like to rub it in
It's not a game this is my life, when will I ever win
Climb the rung start to see the light I can almost see the top
Two steps up and three more back when will I get the drop
Walk a mile if you will, do you have the time
Buckle up and hold on tight everything will be just fine
Here we go yet again it's getting fucking old
Your grass is green and it will grow, it's not made of gold
Bleed me dry, hope you feel good, get your pound of flesh
Play by the rules don't be so sneaky, that would be the best
Cut off your nose to spite your face, forest through the trees
Pick you battles wise my friend, do you want to mess with these
Walk a mile if you will, do you have the time
Buckle up and hold on tight everything will be just fine
What do you want to be when you grow up, hurry now and decide
Do you bleed red for the colonel, no, that's corporate suicide
Give me your best, we'll take care of you, yeah we'll give you our all
Sit by your phone yet again, here comes that November call
Ten years in, fifteen to go, a lifetime away
I can barely get outta bed and make it through the day
Walk a mile if you will, do you have the time
Buckle up and hold on tight everything will be just fine
Touch 'em all rounding third save the best for last
We had fourteen years, I hoped for more, yeah they were a blast
No one knows, no one ever can or will, like the way I do
We shared the best and we shared the worst, table set for two
Now here it is the time is coming I worry what they'll say
I know in my heart I tried my best to love you every day
Walk a mile if you will, do you have the time
Buckle up and hold on tight everything will be just fine

God love the Ruskies

Sorry Lux. I think I just spent $8.00 at my new fave download site. www.allofmp3.com that $8.00 got me 52 songs. Sweet!
Bedtime.

Shake dem bones

Yeah, it has been a while since I busted out some Dead. Tonight just felt right. Some good Tequila is working so I will try to recollect some of my fondest memories of some of my best times with the most important people of my life.

I was a late bloomer. 86ish when I started getting hooked a year or two late seeing shows, Thanks go out to the infamous Webb brothers. Good dudes. Big Al Webb especially. I remember being at an RFk show with my bro, Silsley & my Mom. I saw Big Al strolling thorugh the crowd. i have not seen him for a year or so as he went out West to sky. There he was. Minutes later I saw my man Fabo ("I love pot"). The big guy almost crushed me with a hug. That is what the Dead was about.
RFK:
Oysters with SWaulters & Amy. Bojangle chicken & bisquits. Yummy
Camel hair van and the keg/broken door incident
Camel hair van and the beer ball drive
Me almost getting arrested protecting the said Camel hair van
Eric, Steve, Carolyn & I in the very fucking top row at RFK. Row Jimmy comes on. Totally awesome. We decide it is time to go to the floor to move. Sils jumps the fence and the guards chase him whilst Eric, Carolyn & I stroll in.
Selling Barleywine homebrew
Fred Clepper, god rest his soul.
Steve's car alarm
Broken foot and crutches in 95 degree heat. Foot swelled like a bloated sausage
DK
Tading birks for tix. I am wearing the Birks right now. 15 years later.
Amy, no show was complete without lovely Ames being indoctrinated.
Digress, Brokedown Palace is on now. Full on tears, sorry. My cousins played this at their Mom's funeral a few years back. God rest, Janet. Eric & I got them into the Dead.
First time, and only time I wor a skirt/dress. Regimental, fuck yeah it was comfy. I danced liked a true Deadhead that night
Baked, lots
Drunk, lots
Drum circle under the overpass
$1 beers and Falafels
Crazy buses
Crazier people
Lisa Heintzleman where are you? Man I would like to see you again
Star Lake:
Mike Hart, Shecky, Fabo, Ames
'Shroomin & boomin
Meadowlands:
Keystone Light, 3 for $2 just to get home. Yeah I was broke
Steve Miller band & Sting as openers. Sweet
Nasty paved parking lot scene, the worst
Notar, my brother. Mother fuck, you were right! I miss you man.
Cap Centre;
Jen Maclay, virtue & vice
Some vegan girl from Madre who wanted to ride along
SECOND FUCKING ROW. Bobby spit on me, almost
Who has my miracle. Why I do, young man. Two seats second row center for $100 total
What a trip literal, figurative
The best lot food
March early 90's shows 4 nights. I commuted every one.
I tought severe MR & disabled kids how to swim in the morning. They made the trip worthwhile.
Scraping the concrete median on the drive home night three.
Got wasted and said something dumb to Jen Maclay. I will always be sorry for that.
First shows with Gus.
Boulder Theatre:
Little women
The night Brent Midland died, freaky.
Turns out a did a lot of mtb'ing with the Little Women drummer years later in PA
Superweek:
Won tix to see Bobby at Alpine Mt. Front row. Bike race, guess which won out. Dumb.
There was much, much more. This was just a little taste