I started this post the other day, and I'm going to finish it up before starting in on today's post. All I did the other day was come up with headings, so I'll have to fill in all the text. Read on, bitches.My New Bike Arrived...Broken
For those of you who have been waiting with bated breath, my new folding bike arrived the other day (Tuesday I believe). I rode home from work (on the mountain bike), opened the box, took out all of the parts and got to work assembling what wasn't already assembled, which wasn't much.
I took my time, made a few adjustments and was getting ready to ride when it felt like one of the brakes was dragging. I guess brakes wasn't on my list of adjustments, oops. I lifted the front wheel and the damn thing wouldn't spin at all.
That's when I noticed the part of the brake that holds the adjustment screw had broken clean off. I found the piece in the bottom of the box, but the screw was nowhere to be found. I got on the horn with the store right away, then waited all afternoon for them to call me back. When I eventually gave up and called them back, the guy had no idea I had called and offered to mail the replacement part out to me.
I don't know how you are, but when I get a new toy I want to play with the damn thing as soon as possible. I decided to yank the front brakes off my mountain bike and use those until the replacement showed up. Once the brake was disassembled I found a little trick to rig it up without needing the adjustment screw. It's safe, but unadjustable.
I rode it to work on Wednesday, and last night to the Thursday Night Run and so far it seems to go from point A to point B without too much trouble. I had some difficulties on some bigger hills, but nothing my powerful, sexy legs couldn't handle.Work is Good...Except for One
Despite my Coot-like pseudonym, I am a very tolerant person and can usually find the good in most people. This person however, rubs me the wrong way in every aspect of his/her being.
Not unattractive? NO.
Good personality? NO.
Easy to talk to? NO.
Not bad smelling? NO.
Quiet? NO.
Not disgusting? NO.
Competent? NO.
Now, normally I wouldn't say those things about a fellow human being but in this case I think I can use one of my Get-Out-of-Hell-Free cards without any problem. GAH!Beautiful Weather...While I'm at Work
All week we had the butterest weather. It was sunny, mid 70s, calm, and ice cream friendly. Then Thursday got here and the weather started to turn sour. Today (Friday) is cloudy, cool and rainy. Tomorrow and Sunday are supposed to be at least partly sunny but with temps in the 50s.
With years of anecdotal evidence I can say with certainty that my mood is directly tied to the weather. Being home all day in dreary weather bums me the hell out. Maybe I'll find my hat today (story to follow) and that'll cheer me up.Commuting to Work is the Best
On the plus side of life, commuting to work on a bike is one of the best things I've started doing. I can almost hear your eyeballs out there rolling in their sockets, but it's true.
Some of you are probably thinking "Old Coot, you're an exercise nut and that's why you like riding your bike to work". That may be partially true, but what I really enjoy about it is the mini-workout (12 minutes is doable by anyone) in the fresh air, the ride through the little neighborhoods and the park instead of busy, trafficky roads, and the few minutes of peace and calm between rushing out the door and being at my desk.
The only thing I like about the commute better than riding my bike to work is riding it home from work.
Last week was National Ride Your Bike To Work Week, and I'm sure some of you might have missed your invitation. That doesn't mean you can't start this coming week. If anything, you're just a little late jumping on the bike bandwagon.
Lastly, if you consider the price of gas in your decision (which I didn't), a 5 mile ride to work (30 minutes vs probably 20 minutes driving) will save 10 miles a day. Using the official US mileage reimbursement rate of 50.5¢ per mile, that's about $5 a day, $25 a week, $100 a month and $500 for the summer! That bike doesn't look so expensive anymore, does it?
Even if you only ride in half the time you're still saving a bundle, helping the environment, improving your health and maybe finding an activity you truly enjoy.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Bad with the Good
Thursday, May 08, 2008
This Heading Intentionally Left Blank
I was on a tear, then off said tear, now I'm trying to climb back on. As any regular blogger knows, this shit is time consuming and from time to time we just fall away from it as life becomes more boring/interesting. However, the tear I was on for that brief period felt good so I'm going to try and keep posting.iCan't iChat
A friend of mine tried to get a video chat going last night to help Christen the new iMac. We tried several times, then tried just audio chatting which could also be achieved using a phone or face-to-face, but that didn't work anyway. We were forced to chat by typing, the way our ancestors did before video chatting.
I did some research and it looks like the problem is that our routers may or may not be configured in such a way that they're willing to do business together. Simple stuff like text, no problem.
I think my iMac knows that if it can't transmit a streaming video of me in all of my handsome splendor then it's not going to even try. But damn, I had the lighting all figured out, my eyebrows straightened, the residual salt deposits (from running) wiped away and my shirt put back on with the correct side facing out. I was looking good, but apparently not good enough to send live video to another human being.Nature's Monkey Wrench
As you don't know, I was planning on taking tomorrow off to test drive some bikes. I made that decision first thing Monday morning and have been looking forward to my day off all week. Then Mother Nature throws a monkey wrench in the works and sends rain our way. There's no sense in driving out to look at bikes I can't test ride, so now I have to work on Friday. Since in my mind Friday was a day off, it now feels like I have to work an extra day this week. She-att!So Close
I have a policy that if three really bad things happen before I get to work, I'm turning around and going back home. Today, many, many things went wrong but the weather is shitty and there's no way I was going to blow a perfectly good mental health day (AKA vacation day) on cloudy, rainy, bullshit ass weather.
Then, as I unbuckled my seatbelt I noticed I forgot to wear a belt. Shirt and Tie Day becomes Look Like an Weenie Day when you don't wear a belt. Son-of-a-bitch!!!! That was yet another strike which almost got me to put the key back in the ignition and head for home, but again the weather sucks so I didn't.
Now I've been wearing my business fleece all day trying to cover up my lack of belt. My office is normally wicked cold so I wear my business fleece most days anyway, but now I don't have the option to take it off. God I hate the look of a shirt tucked in sans belt.FYI
In case you're like me and didn't know that Sunday is Mother's Day, now you know. I stopped on my way to work and picked up a card. I've been killing myself trying to come up with the perfect gift for a mother who's in the process of getting rid of everything she owns so she can move to Florida, to no avail. I believe that perfect gift is simply the love of her son/favorite child.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Jesus, Mother of Joseph!
Yeah, I know it's supposed to be Jesus, Mary and Joseph but Jesus Mother of Joseph is funnier. Anyway, I' sitting here drinking my coffee trying to muster the energy to type and I gotta tell you, it's not easy. Allow me to egg-splain.Hancock/Richmond 12 Miler
This morning I set out at the crack of 9:30 to meet up with some folks for the Sunday long run. When I arrived at the meeting spot it was very clear that those folks wouldn't be joining me. I waited the obligatory 10 minutes just in case, then headed out.
The route I picked started at the Hancock Shaker Village, headed west, then south through some back roads into Richmond. From there, many of the roads are dirt which this time of year feel like running on sponges. It's a nice treat to the joints to have such a soft surface and the dirt roads themselves tend to slow traffic, which is light anyway.
Oh, did I mention I had two sore knees, a snug calf and a shin threatening to splint (is that how one gets shin splints?). And my shoulders and sides were sore from painting. My plan was to head out, see if any of the above became an issue and turn back around if they were. If not, I'd push through for an easy 12 miles. Within a half mile or so everything smoothed out perfectly.
My first complaint is with the weather. Accweather still claims it'll be sunny and 50 today, but so far it's cloudy and 40. I expected to have it warm and clear up, but that never happened.
Aaaanyway, at just shy of 8 miles I was supposed to hang a left onto Dublin Rd. I'm not sure if my brain said "Hell no, it's uphill to the left. I'm going right." or what, but I went right. At this point I should be cruising in until the end on Dublin Rd. with only a slight zig zag on Sleepy Hollow Rd.
Part of the problem I would have from here on out is that they don't label both streets at intersections, so you have a 50/50 chance of finding out which street you're on and which one you're turning onto. Add in that they change names frequently and some streets don't exactly go straight through intersections and someone like me who's navigationally challed to begin with is doomed.
So there I was cruising down Dublin Rd. dreaming of the stack o' hotcakes I would soon be enjoying when I hit the end of Dublin Rd. Shit! I headed right, decided that was wrong and turned back the other way. Eventually I came upon a kindly woman who informed me that Dublin ended where we were, and that I should just head back to Rte 41 and take the non-scenic route back so I would be sure not to get lost. I agreed.
Following her directions I came across Dublin Rd again. Hmm, I pulled out my route notes and saw my error from before, turned the correct way onto Dublin and away I went. Now I'm home free, I thought to myself.
Wrong-o! I came upon another intersection and the road signs informed me that I was on Sleepy Hollow, NOT Dublin (and failed to tell me what I was crossing). Shit! Fuck it, I knew what was at the other end of Sleepy Hollow, so I went that way. Worst case I would have to stop at Bartlett's Orchard, eat a muffin and call someone for a ride.
Okay, so I was back on familiar grounds. I gambled and headed down a road named Summit Rd., which I had been on earlier in the morning, but at the other end. I knew that if I just stayed on this road I would be able to find my way back from there. Well, unless it was a different Summit Rd.
A few miles down the road I was back on Dublin (I needed a map to show me how that all worked) and heading towards the car. There were a few mirages that looked like the end of the road, but they were just there to test my willpower and inch me towards the edge of sanity. The last mile or so was up a huge hill, and at this point I was ready to be done. I was cursing like a drunken sailor at inanimate objects, saying things like "I hate that tree stump!" and "Who left that god damn shovel there?" It wasn't pretty.
As I approached the driveway I passed a sign reading "Hancock Shaker Village Parking 400 feet" and was ecstatic. I actually said "God bless you, 400 foot sign" as I passed it. As I turned into the driveway my GPS watch read 17.25 miles. If my math is correct, that's 5.25 miles further than I was supposed to go. Jeezum Crow!
The good part if there is one, is that aside from some belly grumblings at mile 14 (which I suppressed by telling my stomach that was only making things worse) I did pretty well until the last little bit. My form was good, pace was pretty much even, and my muscles held off the cramps and knots I could feel a-brewing. I tried an ice bath to help with recovery, but I was already so cold I couldn't stand it and only lasted about 15 seconds. I guess I won't be walking tomorrow.
Moral of the story, draw a map in addition to the route notes.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Procrastination at it's Finest
Let's see... Last weekend I was supposed to take my full three days and repaint (or paint for the first time) my spare bedroom/yoga studio/computer room. Well, I successfully managed to not do that. Fast forward to this weekend and I got so far as to take everything off the walls, patch any holes or spots that needed filling, cleaned the cobwebs and spider nests out of the corners, and rendered the room utterly useless. Now I'm rationalizing not working on it for another day.Drive By
One day last week some dickless pieces of shit shot my house up with a paintball gun. Considering I keep to myself and pretty much keep my karma account in the black, I have to think these were some dumb ass kids with nothing better to do and not someone with a beef against me personally. Either way, I have to clean the shit up and it's annoying.
The dickless pieces of shit were clearly aiming for my windows because there are two straddling one window, one that hit the frame of a window and the fourth hit my storm door, mashing paintball shit all in the screen. Those fuckers better not let me catch them doing it again. I think I'll put some rocks on the front porch just in case.January in March
Here we are at the end of March and we got a snowfall the other day to make it feel like January. I went xc skiing for what I think will be the last time this season and the conditions were as perfect as the guy at the ski place said they would be.
They hadn't groomed all of the trails, so we ventured off into the wooded trails sans guide. It wasn't long before we were completely lost and I was getting tired. We came out of the woods into a clearing and took a long, carefree, ride down the virgin tree-lined driveway. At the end of the driveway was a sign reading "End of Marked Trails". Damn, we had to go all the way back to the top and try another way.
Well, by the time we made it back to the Visitor's Center we had covered 7.2 miles of trails and I was dogged. My arms felt the worst from having to push up the hills and push to slow down the hills. I was wicked tired and could have eaten a horse.The Group Run that Wasn't
After skiing I went home, had a light supper and passed the hell out. Hours later I awoke, realized I had never turned my phone back on after skiing (there's no service out there so it kills your battery) and there were several messages from people asking what the run was for the next day. Somehow I have become the Sunday Long Run leader, which is not my intent.
In case anyone else is interested I post my Sunday long runs on our group's running site, and while it is nice to have company, if nobody shows up that's fine too. Being out on back roads in the sunshine is a nice place to get lost in your own head and do some personal reflection. If people do show up, it's nice to have company to while away the miles. It's a win-win situation, really.
Last night I saw that people really wanted to know what my plan was, so I stopped what I was doing, planned out a route, posted it, texted the people who had called to let them know, then resumed my evening's chores.
A little background information: Planning a route is not just about having the right number of miles. We need a convenient place to meet, ample parking, a route on non-major roads, relatively small hills (since most people had run a race yesterday), scenery, familiarity, shelter from the wind and a convenient breakfast place in case we decide to grab something to eat afterwards. Dirt roads are nice, but not if they're gonna be icy or muddy so temperature and recent weather are both important too. It's no small task to put all of that together.
Then this morning all but two of the vast herd of runners decided to do something else. Well, it was their loss. Our route was great and personally I had a great time. The sun was shining, the traffic was non-existent and the conversation was just right.
As much as it may seem like I'm complaining, I'll continue to advertise the runs and if only two or three people show, so be it.Just... Can't... Paint
All I have to do tonight is put one coat of paint on the ceiling in my spare bedroom. One coat, that's it. It's a rectangle too, so I don't have all sorts of wacky angles to deal with. But for some reason I just can't get motivated. GAH!
Maybe after dinner...
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Wednesday Rant Day
For those of you who aren't lucky enough to live here in New England, let me tell you about the weather we've been having. February is after all, the most depressingly cold and wintry month of the year. Well, not this year. We had a string of two days below freezing this week, culminating in one of the finer snowfalls I've seen in a while. Of course, I was out running in said snow storm because that's why God gives them to us, just like thunderstorms.That Soft White Blanket
Well, after my run last night (which was fantastic), I tried out some yoga moves on my new mat, bullshat on the computer for a little while, had some supper, and retired to bed. Throughout the night I could hear the sweet tinkle-tinkle of Snow Day-causing snow bombarding my bedroom windows.
This morning I awoke to an NPR money-grab and hoped they'd pause to at least tell us that the schools were closed. They did not. I'm not in school, but if they're closed I consider work closed for me. By the time I was up and moving, it was clear that at least my road was perfectly fine so I got dressed, had breakfast and headed out to shovel the driveway.
At some point during the morning, the sweet tinkle-tinkle of the snow turned into the not-so-sweet tinkle-tinkle of rain. By the time I got out to shovel it was raining pretty good, and the snow was far from light and fluffy. The end of the driveway where the plow puts it's mess was truly back-breaking.
As it turned out, the schools were closed today but there's no way I'm wasting my vacation to sit at home for a Rain Day.Speaking of Running
Yesterday afternoon I received several pleas to plan a run. I weighed the various needs of the people pleading for a run, and posted the resulting activity on our group message board. The plan was simple: meet at a specific place at a specific time, and we'd determine the route based on how good everyone felt.
Well, I headed out 20 minutes early to run to the meeting spot. As I arrived at the predetermined location (3 minutes late, but 7 minutes before the standard 10-minute grace period ended) I saw one car and no lights on in the house. I rang the doorbell anyway, thinking maybe they were in there and just about to leave. The single set of footprints leading away from the house convinced me that the occupant had already left. Hmmm.
With 5 minutes to spare, I wrote the name of the road I'd be running on the windshield of the car and waited in the cold wintry snow. After the 10 minute grace period was up, I left and proceeded to do my own run at my own pace, lost in my own thoughts. I never did see anyone else, but I'm sure they were out there somewhere.
When I got home, there were two messages on my voicemail asking where I was. They didn't know how they could have missed me and claimed that they even went by my house (but I noticed they left no footprints), noting that it looked dark. Since the reason they "missed" me was that they didn't bother to wait (which was very obvious to me), I didn't feel it was all that important that I return the calls. Those calls would be followed by concerned "I just want to make sure you're home alright" calls, which went unanswered because I was busy with my yoga/IM bullshitting.
I wouldn't say I was pissed, because I can even imagine the conversation that led up to me getting left behind. They probably thought "oh, we'll just head towards his house and meet up where we meet up", not thinking that there were many different routes I could have taken and I could have been on foot or in the car. Hell, I could have been coming from the complete opposite direction if I had to run errands on my way. And as it turned out, I was perfectly content running by myself. I just would rather not have to make plans for everyone else only to have them not wait for me.
BAH!
Well Cooterinos, I think tonight is going to be another bike roller night, followed by some yoga. It's either going to be rainy or icy out, with neither being preferred.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Monday, February 04, 2008
The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
Hey folks, this weekend was a real trifecta as far as quality goes. There were good things, there were bad things, and there were ugly things...The Good
On Friday night my running group had a private Spinning class at a local gym. For the low, low price of $2 each we got to have our asses handed to us for an hour straight. For many of us, this was our maiden voyage into the world of Spinning classes, and it proved to be quite the exciting time.
At 6:00 we were all huddled at the entrance signing waivers. Most of us are not members of that gym (or any gym for that matter) but they allowed us to come in to take this class as a special favor to the woman who set it all up. The class started at 6:00, but the general rule for our group runs is that there's always a 10 minute buffer in case someone's running late. We assumed this was true for the Spinning class, which it was not. The class was supposed to START at 6:00, but we all got there at 6:00, had to check in, change, warm up, etc. Fortunately it was a laid back crowd, so nobody minded.
As far as Spinning classes go, I can't comment on the relative quality of it since it was my first time. I can say that it was a hard 60 minutes and I was amply tired afterwards. Not too tired to sit in the sauna for 20 minutes, but pretty tired.
After the class (and subsequent sauna visit), we headed next door to Spice for dinner. They have three different eating venues with very different menus and pricing schemes. We opted for Medium Spice, which was still rather steep but the food was good and we had a good time.
On Saturday I was scheduled to usher at The Colonial Theater for a Creole Jazz Serenaders show. I wasn't sure what to expect, but with Jazz in the name it was bound to be at least tolerable. With the exception of the freezing cold job I had (standing in the unheatedest corner of the building waiting to push a button) and the freezing cold seat I had (why was cold air blowing on me the whole time?), the show was great.
They played for about 2 hours, mixing in songs that highlighted the various influences in New Orleans' music. The musicians were tight and played extremely well together. I could have used some accordion or possibly a cow-bell, but they had an upright bass, and I love me some upright bass.The Bad
After the Spinning class and following dinner, I went home and first-things-first, plunked my ass on the couch and petted the cats. Apparently while doing so, the weight of Vinny on my legs combined with having my feet up on the arm rest caused me to hyper-extend my right knee. Yes, I hyper-extended my knee while laying on a couch, petting a cat.
Saturday I went for a run, hoping I would just run it off after a few miles but that did not happen. It didn't get any worse, but it certainly didn't get any better. I had already planned on running the Superbowl spread in miles (12 pt spread = 12 miles) on Sunday morning, but I had to bag that because of the knee. I couldn't put on or take off socks, tie my shoes, lean over or anything without major discomfort.
Damn it! First the shin splints for a week, then the cold for a week, now a freaking hyper-extended knee from laying on the damn couch! The anti-running gods are laughing at me from on high.
What I can say though, is that the core workout from Bicycling magazine has been doing wonders in keeping me positive. It involves some stretching, which seemed to help the leg (how can you stretch out something that's injured due to over-stretching?). I'll probably ease into a run tonight to test the proverbial waters, and reassume my full-blown training regimen if all goes well.The Ugly
The Patriots sucked ass last night. End of story. Congrats to the NY Football Giants, you deserved to win that game.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Friday, January 25, 2008
Beat It, Nerds
Quick rant. I would estimate that half of my blog traffic comes from nerds searching for a very specific picture of The Invisible Woman. I won't even post a link to this picture here, lest I should attract more nerd-specific traffic. Suffice it to say, this shit has got to stop, nerds. Go back home to your mamas, put on your Batman mask, crack open a bottle of YooHoo and for Christ's sake toss those nasty faded black jeans you've been wearing for the last 2 months into the laundry. Yes, that's a washing machine down in the basement next to your bed. Hell, your mom would probably even wash them shits for you.
I'd delete the picture from that post, but I shouldn't have to. It's not my fault that these nerds can't control themselves. Why should I have to suffer?
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Get the Whole Story Here...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Back in Effect
Hot Damn, it's been a long time since I hollered at y'alls. I'm sure you've been wondering why that is, and I'll tell you. It's because I didn't feel like writing for a while. Simple and plain, so deal.New Languages
This is just a head's up for anyone who has noticed that Blogger is now available in Hebrew, Arabic and Persian. While the rest of Blogger might be available in additional languages, we here at Old Coot Productions believe that our stories, rants and informative monologues can best be appreciated in their native language, English. With that in mind, we will not be publishing in additional languages.Feline Update for Bizarro
Dear Bizarro Todd, please stop calling my house to ask about the cats. Please stop sending singing telegrams as a cover to get me to open the door so you can look in and evaluate my cats' health (the doorbell scares them anyway). And for God's sake please stop hanging upside-down from my roof trying to sneak a peek in the front window. And I know that was you who snuck in dressed as an ottoman while I was out running. I don't even own an ottoman, and when you ran out of the house you dropped your Old Coot Fan Club membership card, complete with photograph, signature, social security number (that you wrote in yourself) and blood type (again, why'd you write that in there?). You can expect a phone call regarding the new metal roof you're having installed this weekend, paid for with the home equity loan I took out against your house.
Since you're relentless I'll tell you that they're both fine. Nano reeks of cod liver oil and Vinny's arm is still shaved. Ha ha, shaved arm.Hot Damn, It's Cold
Well, I started writing this yesterday when it was colder. Now it's not so cold. I double-dog dare Mother Nature to pick a freaking season and stick with it. For example, during winter months maybe we could have winter-like weather. Then in the spring months it could be spring-like. Then, well, you get the point.
The reason I started this is that Monday night I went for a long run (out by the Pittsfield airport and back) and it was 10 degrees. That shit is cold, on the strength!
The cool part is that I did get to see a private jet come in for a landing right above my head. And I mean RIGHT ABOVE my head. The runway looks like it's no more than 1000' from the road I was on (South Mountain Rd.), and the plane could have been brushing the tree-tops for all I knew. The damn thing was CLOSE. You can go ahead and be jealous, I don't mind.
Well, that's it for today. Latros.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Damn It!
Good evening Cooterinos. As you know my cat Vinny had a nasty problem with a bad tooth and associated infection. After a few trips to the vet, a few car payments worth of vet bills, a lot of stress and a few weeks of medication and special food he's pretty much on the mend. Now, my attention turns to Nano...Cover Your Mouth
While I was dealing with Vinny's problems, which took an absurd amount of my time, I paid little attention to my eldest cat Nano. He typically doesn't like a whole lot of attention anyway, but I felt bad nonetheless. The whole time Vinny was sick, they were both sneezing and I figured it was the result of the heat running constantly, blowing dust around and drying out the air. Plus it had been pretty chilly to boot.
Today I came home from work and found Nano asleep on my bed. How he got into the bedroom is another story, but he didn't look like himself. First of all, he wasn't interested in dinner, didn't greet me at the door, and barely awoke when I caught him sleeping. I chalked it up to him trying to enjoy being in the forbidden bedroom until I went downstairs and heard the sneezing fit. I happened to be sitting at my computer at the time so I Googled "Cat Sneezing" and sure enough got plenty of hits.
According to everyone in Google-Land, best case scenario has Nano needing a trip to the vet. Worst case has him needing a trip to the vet, quarantining him in the meantime, and probably a course of antibiotics afterwards. It could be any number of things, but the one common thread was that I should get him in to get checked out ASAP. If I thought it was tough medicating Vinny I can't imagine what Nano will be like. That should be a fun task.And Then There's Me
If you didn't already know that I'm a junkie you haven't been paying attention. With all of the stress of these life-threatening feline ailments, I've been heavily self-medicating with a little too much of the left-foot, right-foot.
On the surface a little exercise can't hurt, but I've really been taking it to another level. After last night's bender I could barely walk today. I was tempted to go out tonight "to keep the legs loose", but the temptation to stay out for "one last round" would be too much so I stayed in. If anything good comes out of these cats and their medical problems it might be that I find myself in a whole new level of running fitness. Or, I'll be crippled and battling a case of pneumonia.Send Some Tender Care Waves Nano's Way
I'll probably get to spend my Friday off dealing with vets, further stressing an already stressed cat so if you have a second put some tender thoughts on the airwaves for sick kitty #2.
File Footage of Nano and Me WhistlingOver and Out,
Old Coot
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Merry Christmas Eve Eve
Merry Christmas Eve Eve! I was awoken this morning by some off-key Carolers throwing snowballs at my bedroom windows. It took me a few minutes to figure out what the hell was going on and when I looked out the window I saw it was some of my running buddies taunting me for bagging that morning's run. I had my reasons.So... Wiped... Out
Before I start my complaint about being so tired I'm going to acknowledge that there are probably people out there who work harder than I do and have more responsibilities than I have, but that doesn't mean I can't be tired too.
Last you probably heard form me I was working OT trying to get our project caught up and at the same time stack that paper. I've been going full steam ahead towards those ends taking only Sundays to get my beauty sleep. That might help explain why I bagged this morning's run. Yesterday as I sat in the dark office by myself I think I was officially burned out. I couldn't get much done, and what I did do wasn't all that good. I did however, manage to clean the coffee makers.
Sprinkle in a 3 or 4 dozen miles of running a week and it's a recipe for burnout if I've even seen one. All work and play makes Old Coot a tired boy, plus a poorly fed boy at that. I've been eating like crap, which I'm sure only exacerbates the problem.December is National My Car Maintenance Month
As I'm sure happens with everyone, I wait until way past the last minute to tend to car maintenance. For example, I need new tires. I've known about the tire situation for some time so it's not a surprise. I also know which tires I want and where I want to get them. I even have money earmarked for the job, so you'd think it would be a no-brainer. Wrong-o.
Late this week I finally got up the gumption to call the place and make an appointment. As luck would have it I have to wait a week to have them put on, which pushes my annual inspection closer to the wire.
Did I forget to mention that my inspection is up this month? And if you guessed that my current tires won't pass inspection, you guessed correctly. So there's an obvious order of operations here: tires, then inspection. Having a tire appointment of 12/28 makes it tough to get the inspection done before the 12/31 deadline.
Every 3,000 miles or 3 months, whichever comes first... Well, I finally got my oil changed yesterday; a job I absolutely hate to pay for because it's so easy to do myself. It was only 3,600 miles since my last change so there was no concern there. But it had been 6 months since my last change, and we all know oil breaks down whether you're driving or not.
The good news was that there's a new place not too far from my house that got me in and out in about 10 minutes. They even threw in a "free" car wash, which I'm sure is rolled into the exorbitant cost of the oil change. I seized the opportunity to have my car washed, a task that sometimes only happens every 6,000 miles or 12 months, whichever comes first. Shuffling Off to Buffalo
Like the nicknames every kid you meet thinks they invented, every person who asks if I'm "Shuffling Off to Buffalo" gets a kick out of being so creative. But the answer is, yes I am going to Buffalo for Christmas.
Since my family celebrates Christmas in a different manner than the American Media Conglomerate would like you to celebrate it (by spending 2 months' salary on diamonds and other month's salary on other crap) gift giving and receiving are not the highlight of the trip. In fact, we'll probably have a nice low-key day filled with coffee, breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper and perhaps some Scrabble. It'll be perfect. I even have a new Yankee Candle for my mom (does that count as a gift?), to give the house that familiar Christmas smell in the absence of a freshly butchered tree.
The second highlight of the Holiday week is the Annual Bartley Party, which is now a fundraiser for PUSH. What started out as an annual meeting of high school alumni at the Bartley homestead has turned into quite the celebration. I love going because it's filled with about 15 years' worth of alumni from my HS, and other like-minded folks. It's the one place we get to meet up and see what everyone has or has not been doing over the last year. Oh, it'll be sweet.
Well, my laundry is dry. Time to fold, set another load in motion, and hit the mean streets of P-field to run a few miles. It's 45 degrees today, and you know what that means. SHORTS WEATHER!
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Saturday, December 15, 2007
The Winter Has Arrived
Hoo Dee Hooooo! Hey Cooterinos, what's the good word? The good word here is paid overtime, although with the Good comes the Bad. Bad? Yeah, you still have to work the extra hours to get paid for them.A Whirlwind Wrapped in a Firestorm
Lately I've been working myself to the bone, and it's been both invigorating and annoying. The invigoration comes from having a job to do that keeps me busy all day. No more looking at the clock and wondering if someone unplugged it. Nope, by the time I glance at the time it's half an hour into my lunch.
The annoyance factor comes from not being wicked busy by choice. I also get the impression that no matter how much I get done and how quickly I get it done it's not enough and I should be working harder. That manifested itself in me working two days' worth of overtime this weekend.
This was supposed to be our Friday off, but I was in the office (along with a few other guys on the project) both Friday and Saturday. The nice thing about working when you're not obligated to be there is that you can just put your nose to the grindstone and pump out gads of work. There are no people coming by to chat, no people rife with questions, no people hanging around your desk while they wait for the guy next to you to become available. Nope, the only people who are in the office are people who want to get the work done and get the hell out, with no bullshit.
So now that I've worked 16 extra hours this week I am spending my one weekend day planning how to remove that extra cash from my checking account. I've put some of it into a new CompactFlash card for my new camera, and some into a reader for said card so I won't have to dick around connecting to the camera itself. I'm sure I'll find a use for the rest.A Hailstorm of Snow
The weather folks and rumor mill have been predicting doomsday quantities of snow for this weekend, which I have yet to see. Yeah, we got some snow and yeah, it was a bitch to shovel (even with my brand new shovel), but it was no big deal. My favorite part of snowstorms is the reaction people have to them.
Inevitably, you see some poor woman trying to plow her Honda Civic through the foot and a half of heavy, slushy snow at the bottom of her driveway. She'll sit there for five minutes flooring the gas and wondering why she isn't going anywhere. From an observer's vantage point it's clear: your front wheels are suspended 8" above the pavement by the mountain of snow you just drove into.
Then there's the guy who drives extra fast because his 4WD vehicle will allow him to accelerate with impressive ease, not thinking that slowing 3 tons of truck may not happen with that same ease.
Then there's me, driving along with not a flake of snow on my car (because I'm anal about clearing the snow off, and I park in a garage) at a speed the Department of Transportation could write about in a Driver's Ed textbook. Yeah, I have AWD but I prefer not to slide sideways into a telephone pole. Plus, I'm too busy watching people clear their driveways with what I consider to be horrible inefficiency.Overkill vs. Underkill
Each time I head outdoors to clear my driveway, I am amused by the other people doing the same. I head out, shovel in hand, and start digging away at the snow, tossing it 10 feet atop a retaining wall, and moving along in silent introspection.
The lady across the street has one of those flimsy $7.38 shovels that you buy to build jumps at the local sledding hill. The shovel lasts long enough for you to build one jump, then it shatters into a million pieces because it's not meant for use in the cold. Fortunately, she also has an electric snowblower that's fine and dandy as long as you don't overload it with multiple snowflakes. Failing to grasp the mechanics of the thing, she repeatedly slams it into the snow in front of her causing it to stall. This results in a pleasant whirring sound that I am beginning to equate with winter.
The third level of overkilling shows up as the guys across and down the street who have those big honkin' gas-powered snowblowers complete with enclosure. These snowblowers could clear a football field in minutes if the guys could keep them running that long. I'm not sure what they do, but these guys manage to stall the freaking things every minute or so. They then spend the next five to ten minutes trying to get them restarted and warmed back up. And never mind that they only have to clear 40 feet of sidewalk and a two-car driveway. What's even better is that they live in adjacent houses. If they just worked out a system they could alternate and add years to their lives.
Today was a perfect example of how over- and under-kill the machines are. As I ate my pancakes and sipped my coffee I heard the familiar whirring of the neighbor's snowblower. I peeked outside and saw her using it much like she would a very heavy shovel, plowing it into the snow. I then saw the two guys down and across the street setting up base camp in preparation for their morning of snowblowing. I continued to sip my coffee.
Around 11:00 or so I threw on some long johns (which would prove to be a mistake), jeans and a sweatshirt and headed out to shovel the snow. I could see that my neighbors were still working, and still struggling. By about 11:30 - 11:45 I had the driveway cleared, and the lady across the street had traded the electric-powered shovel for the back-powered one. The two guys across and down the street were dueling, with their chutes aimed at each other. They probably figured as long as they kept moving the snowblowers wouldn't stall. I guess they were right, but in my mind if they just picked up a shovel they would have been inside and warm hours ago.Time For a Project
Binners - Not AmusedOver and Out,
Old Coot
Get the Whole Story Here...
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Santa Came Early
There I was, enjoying my after-breakfast coffee. The fire was roaring, the coffee was delicious and I was gently drifting in and out of sleep to the smooth jazz of The Philadelphia Experiment. There were some strange noises coming from the fireplace, but they could easily have been the sound of steam leaving a log. I got up to fetch another cup of coffee and in the time it took me to walk to the kitchen all hell broke loose.Santa Busts In
I booked it out of the kitchen thinking a huge log rolled out onto the rug or a shower of sparks was slowly enpolka-dotting my rug. Nope, a squirrel had apparently been sitting atop the damper in my chimney and the heat got to be too much for him. How he lasted that long I'll never know, but he did. The cats had him cornered behind the couch, and he was slowly shredding my curtains in an attempt to flee. All I could think was "F&(k, how the hell am I gonna catch this damn thing?"
I grabbed a cardboard box, which quickly proved to be useless. I then upgraded to the lid from my cake carrier which at least had a handle. I chased the squirrel all around the downstairs and every time I'd have him cornered he'd book ass into another room. The cats watched in amusement.
Finally I started closing off rooms to contain him, which then forced him upstairs. Thank GOD my bedroom door was shut because as I chased him hither and thither, I found he had a bad foot and was leaving bloody footprints everywhere. Sweet!
So he went upstairs alongside Nano, the eldest and most fearful cat in the house, into the spare bedroom. I closed the door and spent the next 20 minutes or so trying to trick him into a clear plastic tub. Over and over he would elude the bin, leaving more footprints around the room.
Afraid that he might try to hide in one of my tubs filled with running clothes, I closed them up, stacked them in a corner and returned to the chase. He had found his way to the top of a futon frame I had standing on end, and was tending to his game foot. The picture to the right is of his perch.
Eventually I was able to trap him beneath the plastic tub, slide the lid underneath and lock him in. If you've never seen a frightened squirrel with a bloody foot trapped in a clear plastic tub, it's not a pleasant sight. I carried him downstairs and out the door as quickly as I could, opened the lid and set him free. I hope he makes it, poor little guy.
Now, you may recall there was mention of blood. I filled the bloody squirrel tub with Murphy's Oil Soap and water, and set to work cleaning up the trails. The bedroom upstairs seemed to be the worst, and as I moved things around to clean up, I just kept finding more and more.
Finally as I was cleaning the last of it behind the futon frame I noticed a little blob. "Is that what I think it is?" Yup, while I was stacking the tubs and preparing to launch my last attack he copped a squat on my furniture. You can even see the tell-tale squirrel ass hair he left behind.
Son of a bitch!
So how's your day going?
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Poo Neck Storm
Ha ha, I hadn't named this post yet and when it autosaves, it just takes the first few words in the post and uses those. Well, I only typed in headings yesterday so I'd remember what I wanted to write about. The first section was to discuss the poo on my shoe, the second was to talk about my injured neck, the third was the storm windows and the last was to bitch about travel mugs. The autosave named it "Poo Neck Storm" (it didn't get all the way to the travel mug section I guess) and I felt that was a good title.Poo
Last time we talked, I told y'all about the dog poo on my sneaker. Well, not wanting a repeat performance involving poop shoes, I decided to give them a thorough scrub-down in the shower. I tossed them in there, gave them a rinsing to get the poo good and moist, and took a scrub brush to them.
Shoe #1 gave up the poo with no problems. Shoe #2 gave up half the poo with no problems, but the poo in the forefoot section put up a fight. I can only imagine that I stepped in the poo of two separate dogs because after several attempts I still can't get the forefoot poo off. This leads me to the following conclusion.
The dog who generated the forefoot poo has some sort of super-canine bowels. He surely feeds on police officers (or at least their bullet-proof vests) and high-end canoes, which would explain the Kevlar reinforced poo. Seriously, I canNOT scrape it out of the tread. These shoes have plenty of tread left so I'm not throwing them out, but it's reaching the absurdity level pretty quickly.Neck
Dammit, my neck is still bothering me. I reinjured it either shoveling, which is likely or doing my power abs workout, which I refuse to admit to. It's definitely something unavoidable like shoveling.Storm Windows
My storm windows are scraped, glazed, primed and ready for installation. I had to let them "rest" a few days to make sure the primer had a chance to really cure up good. I'm not going to be painting them quite yet, so they're going up as primer white for the time being.
Editor's Note: As of press time the windows were installed. Read about it in the next installment of Ranting's of an Old Coot.Travel Mug
The other day I brought some tea with me to work. It was cold out and I wanted a warm drink for the 5 minute drive. I make the tea, poured it into my most trusted travel mug and headed out the door.
I set the mug down in the cupholder and proceeded to scrape the car windows. It was snowing a little, which is important to note. When I got to work I got out of the car and noticed some wetness on the front of my jacket. "Oh, that must have been some snow that melted" I thought.
Minutes later I was seated at my desk, casually sipping my tea when the damn lid leaked a big splash of tea onto my pants. You've probably heard me complain before about travel mugs and their fondness for leaking. You've also probably heard that my complaint is not with the drinking part leaking, where it's really just operator error, but with the seal at the lid leaking. I have no tolerance for leaking travel mugs, especially ones with "Leak Proof" in the name, and I almost chucked the damn thing right then and there.
If anyone knows of a travel mug that doesn't leak, I'd like to hear about it.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Monday, December 03, 2007
The Poop Deck
Happy Monday, folks. I'm going to try and make this quick, which you've heard before, but this time I mean it. I have to get this puppy whipped out during lunch because I'll never get to it tonight.Put on Your Shit Kickers and Kick Some Shit
Let me set the scene for you. It was a nice late summer day and I was out mowing the lawn. I'm sure the birds were chirping and I'm sure there was a pleasant breeze in the air. I finished the job, put the lawn mower away and was probably getting dinner ready. That's when I noticed something malodorous in the air. Often the cats don't bury their most disgusting turds and the stench will waft up from the basement, but this was different. That's when I noticed the (ahem) trail I left throughout the house. Eggscelent.
You probably already know that I don't own a dog. I have no aspirations of owning a dog and like other people's dogs as long as they don't interfere with what I'm trying to do. When someone's dog shits on my lawn I get annoyed. Yes, dogs have to shit somewhere and it's a shame they can't use a toilet, but I don't have a dog partly because I don't want to be bothered with walking one. If you don't want to be bothered, then don't have one, or fence your yard. However you want to deal with the dog's business is your business, but it shouldn't be my business and it certainly shouldn't be embedded in my wool rug.
I got my sneakers and house all cleaned up and was over it. Then, maybe a month later I was out raking the lawn and wouldn't you know I stepped in either the same pile twice or two separate piles, and both shoes had dog shit all up in their treads. I left them in the basement and reverted back to my old, worn out sneakers. My plan was to stall it out until we had some snow, then I could shovel a few times in them and they'd be as good as new.
Last night as the snow fell I decided it was time. I went out, scraped the car, and drove to Price Chopper to do some shopping while the melted snow permeated the shit particles. Maybe I'd leave a trail in the store, maybe not but that wasn't my concern. I figured once I got home I could traipse around the yard a bit and it would work the rest of the turdage out. It didn't.
This morning we had a bunch more snow and the car was going to need scraping. I threw on my enshitted sneakers, scraped the car, shoveled the end of the driveway, dug the shit out with a stick, walked around the driveway and shoveled some more. I was no longer leaving brown stains in the snow, so I thought I was good. I got all the way to work, sloshed through the messy parking lot and had been working up a storm when I could no longer ignore the stench. There was still shit on my sneakers!
Fortunately I had an extra two pair of business sneakers at my desk. I opted for the pair with the paint on it over the pair that's a little too small, and placed the offending sneakers in a plastic bag. I'll probably have to shovel the end of the driveway again tonight, which I can only hope will do the trick. If not, I'll take a stiff brush to them, douse them in bleach, then throw them in a fire. That has to work.Ain't Got My Sea Legs
Thursday night I was sound asleep, that much I know. From there I can only speculate, but here's what I think happened...
I awoke at some predawn hour with both legs still fast asleep. Apparently my groggy mind misread the lack of sensation as cold feet, and I climbed out of bed to find some socks. Well, if you've ever tried to walk with both legs asleep, you'll know it's not easy. Then if you're barely awake yourself it's really a difficult task. I think I staggered over to the dresser trying to balance myself on top of two phantom legs, found and applied a pair of socks, and stumbled back to bed. I say I think I did, because I'm not 100% sure.
You see, until it's time to get up I don't get out of bed for anything. Gunfire outside my bedroom? As long as they don't come in, I'm fine with it. My bladder about to explode at the next slightest flinch? I can hold it for 6 more hours. The house on fire? The fire station is just down the road. I'm certainly not going to get up because my feet are a little chilly. But if it was a dream, it sure was a good one because it felt real to me.
At this point there's no way to determine whether it was real or not, short of some sort of Total Recall machine (which I think actually put memories into your head, not dug them out). I guess we'll never know.
And I'm out.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Bunk Neck
It's that time of the week again. What time? The middle. For those of us on a 9/80 schedule it's almost like Thursday since we have Friday off, but that doesn't make it any better.Jacked My Neck
Last night I was making my way around the local high school track when I noticed a slight twinge in my neck. I made a mental note of it and moved on. A few laps later I noticed the twinge was becoming less and less slight, and ultimately it started to tighten up and form a knot. I was having a great run and didn't want to stop, but eventually the pain won out and I had to walk.
Today I'm piling on the Aleve, massaging the knots and drinking plenty of water. I can only hope it goes away quickly because, well, it sucks.
After my neck tightened up I tried to think of what I could have done to aggravate it. I settled on all the driving I had done over the weekend. The Lesbaru has a horrible seat, and I frequently have a sore back after long trips. That must have been it.
Well, maybe it was when I watched a movie with my neck craned around so I could lounge sideways on the couch. Oh, or maybe it was the foreign pillows I used at my parents' house. Hmm, maybe it was when I fell asleep in my own bed with the pillows stacked up too high. Geez, maybe it was when I really overdid the abs workout Monday night.
Yeah, it has to be one of those. I'm leaning towards the driving because it's not something I can change. I'd hate to think it was something I did to my self.
No Dibs were harmed in the entweakening of my neck.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Monday, November 26, 2007
Tales from the Trail
Well, I got home last night from the long weekend in Buffalo. As usual, I stayed too long and was driving across NY State during peak across-NY-State-driving hours. Added to this was the accident I would crawl by later in the day. But for now, I want to add a few little stories from my trip out to the 'lo that I forgot to mention. Lot Two-Stepping
I pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, and was walking across the lot to the building and noticed a humorous phenomenon. Whenever a car's backup lights would come on, nearby pedestrians would instinctively perform a little parking lot hustle or shuffle, depending on the person. In a busy lot you could see the same person or group of people (in unison) performing this little shuffle several times en route to the building, taking what appeared to be short intermissions to walk. I'm sure the people didn't know this was happening, it's all built into our genetic code. The next time while you're performing a shuffle of your own, keep your eyes on your fellow pedestrians.Thank You, Come Again
Another strange phenomenon that I noticed while entering and leaving the rest stop was the politeness with which everyone treated one another. I always hold doors for people, and thank those who do the same for me. In our "Me first" society that's not always the case.
However, this trip I noticed that everyone was holding doors for everyone else. It was almost like that movie Pay It Forward where you do something nice for someone and in return they're supposed to do something nice for others. There was also a continual exchange of Pleases and Thank Yous.
At the risk of sounding sexist, I generally find that women do not thank us men often enough. Yes, we're bound by our extra chromosome to hold doors for the fairer sex, but the least our chromosomally challenged counterparts can do is acknowledge the act. This weekend I found that everyone was holding doors, everyone was saying 'thank you' and everyone was saying 'you're welcome'. My mind was blown.
To you ladies out there who appreciate having the door held for you and take it one step further and thank the holder, I say "You're welcome, any time."Just Here to Freshen Your Air
You know those damn automatic air fresheners in public restrooms? The ones that release a doo-doo enflowering scent after every plop? Well, those things eventually run out and need to be replaced.
During a #1 visit to the men's room, I had assumed my position at the pisser and was dutifully facing the tiles direction in front of me. I heard a muttering voice and the telltale "PSST PSST PSST" of an air freshener. I couldn't stand it, so I slowly turned my head - taking care to keep my eyes above waist level - and saw the restroom attendant walking the length of the aisle of stalls spraying eau d' deuce-fleur over his head.
Having completed my task, I walked over to the sinks and was met with a tear-jerking, convulsion-inducing fog of poop covering air freshener. I noticed another gentleman rubbing his eyes and coughing, victimized by the same fog. I can still taste that stench.
The only thing I could think of was that the muttering restroom attendant was instructed to "Replace the men's room air fresheners", so he did just that. He manually performed the task of the air fresheners. I can only imagine what his hands must smell like.
Oh, here's the excerpt from my notebook detailing the incident:The guy who replaced the automatic air fresheners... Not that he put in new ones, but performed their roles w/a little too much enthusiasm, blinding restroom patrons and offending our olfactory and (taste) senses.
I intended to replace (taste) with the appropriate word for the sense of taste: gustatory.
Okay, I'm going to stop here for now. I have another story or two from my return trip, but I'll hit you up with that later. I don't want this getting too out of control or those of you in Readerland with short attention spans might change the channel.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Monday, September 24, 2007
Weekend Update
Raining on my Parade
The other night (Friday, I believe) I decided it was just plain wrong of me to leave the faucet in my tub dripping. I opened the access panel in the closet behind the tub in search of a shutoff valve, and found none. Why would someone put in a shutoff valve next to a fixture? The genius who plumbed my house had zero foresight. And I know he wasn't a real plumber because the pipe joints are sloppily soldered, the sign of a real novice.
Off I went to the basement in search of the nearest shutoff valve. Unfortunately for me, the plumbing in the basement is a rat's nest of kluged-together plumbing remnants. I'm sure the way they planned the job went something like this:
Cletus: Okay Vern, we have 12' of 1/2" flexible tubing, 8'3" of 3/16" hard copper, 13 elbows, 7 tees, a gallon of solder and a hair dryer. How much you figger we can git done?
Vern: I'd say the whole thing.
And that's how they did it. There are so many pipes running this way and that, that had they planned what they were doing would have been unnecessary. But I'm a little ahead of myself here.
While looking for shutoff valves for the shower, I came across a wet spot on the floor. It wasn't coming in from a wall, the dehumidifier wasn't leaking, and a cursory inspection of the nearby pipes came up negative. I even smelled it, thinking it might be cat pee. Nope, this was water.
Then, a drip landed on my head. I gave the pipes above me a thorough look-see and there was water on my gas line. "Ruh-roh". "Please be condensation, please be condensation." It turned out it was the pipe above the gas line that was leaking; I was mildly relieved. What sucks is that it's not a solder joint, but right smack in the middle of the pipe. I peeled back the asbestos-looking pipe wrap to find a series of small corrosion spots on the pipe. One was leaking and the others looked to be not far behind. I put some emergency leak stopping wrap over the pipe which succeeded only in making it drip further down. Damn!
Since it was late, there was nothing else I could do. Without a trustworthy shutoff valve anywhere in the house, I had to turn off the main line to avoid the inevitable pipe burst in the middle of the night.
Until I get a chance to replace the corroded pipe (and redo the shoddy work the last guy did), I have to plan my water usage so that I can turn the water back on, do what I have to do, and turn it back off again. I do NOT want to come home to a burst pipe!
OH, and while I was inspecting the plumbing, I walked through a spider web and the spider jumped on my head. He may or may not have gnawed on my arm and stomach, but I have a few wicked itchy bites from something.Autumn is Close
The weekend wasn't all leaking pipes and spider bites, it also served as a perfect weekend for bike rides. On Friday I awoke late (recall that I was out on the town until the wee hours of the morning), had breakfast, read a magazine or two in the sunshine, and headed out for a bike ride. My company for this ride had not set ass on a bike in weeks, was undoubtedly tired and hung over from the previous night's debauchery, and had probably not eaten a decent meal all day. Tired, hung over and hungry makes for a bad ride for everyone because you become the weakest link, the person I have to wait for every 1/8th mile.
I try to be forgiving, but at times it's hard. The worst was that when I planned the ride, it was assuming an average speed in the area of 16 MPH. That's slow, but how most group rides go. A 40 mile ride should take about 2.5 hours. However, at 13 MPH with frequent breaks, the ride quickly escalated to nearly 4 hours. I hadn't packed any sandwiches and was getting really hungry and cranky by the end. Lesson learned? Probably not. I prefer company to speed, so the next time I want company I'll probably suffer again.
On the positive side, I did get to take a 4 hour tour of the rolling hills of northern Berkshire county. With the leaves getting ready to change, it was quite the scenic ride.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Comic Nerds Be Gone
Last week or so I mentioned that I've been getting a lot of hits on this here blog due to my use of an Invisible Woman picture. Apparently that was just the tip of the iceberg.I May Have to Add Ads
I checked with my Sitemeter counter and depending on the day I'm getting 30-40% of my referrals from Google Image searches for the stupid picture in this entry. I have been resistant to put ads on my blog because, well, I hate ads. But if I'm going to be getting this much traffic from pizza faced basement dwellers I might as well make a buck off of them. I'm going to look into the Google advertisements to see if it's worth the trouble. Last I checked I think I stood to earn about $0.00 per year.Ad Update
Nope, doesn't look like Adsense would pay off for me. People claim you need thousands of distinct visitors to your site daily to really make any money, not tens of visitors. I wouldn't be trying to make a living off of it, but for $100 a year it might be worth it. If anyone has any ideas, let me know.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Holy Rollers!
The title of this post is not Holy Rollers like churchies on motorcycles, but more like "Holy Smoke", but with "Rollers".
As you may have gathered from some of my recent posts, I'm becoming a cycling junkie and for a number of reasons I decided I needed a way to be able to ride during the winter± 7 Inches
Last night my new Kreiler Poly-Lyte Rollers were waiting for me at the side door when I got home from my ride. Having just ridden for a few hours, there was no way my ass wanted to get back into the saddle, but it's a new toy dammit. I carried the two boxes upstairs, carefully inspected the directions, gathered all the tools (one wrench) I needed and put them together. As you can see from the picture, it's a metal frame with three metal rollers and a rubber band. It's about that difficult to assemble too; 6 cap nuts with washers.
From the reviews I read, it sounded like some people had trouble assembling it, so I was on the lookout for a snag. It turns out it's just wicked easy to do, those people are just slow.
With my new toy assembled I was ready to give it a try. Because it's so difficult to get used to balancing yourself, they recommend you start in a doorway. I did that, but couldn't get onto the bike so I opted for a different doorway that I have outfitted with a pull-up bar.
Minutes later I was in the saddle and weaving all over the place (one hand on the pull-up bar). When I was looking at all of the roller choices out there on the futureweb, it seemed like the 15" wide ones would be almost overkill. Then, as I tried to balance myself, it dawned on me that I don't have ± 15 inches, I really only have ± 7 inches (the tire is about an inch wide). I can't even hold a line that tight walking or sometimes even sitting, let alone riding my bike on a round surface. Imagine balancing a quarter on its edge; not too tough. Now imagine balancing that same quarter on the edge of a dime; not so easy. The learning curve sho is steep.
What I did learn was that contrary to popular belief, you won't accelerate across the room if you do go off the side. It makes sense that if your wheels are spinning at 20+ MPH and you hit the floor that you'd go flying across the room, but in reality you don't have any forward momentum so you just end up peeling out on the floor and not going anywhere.I Stooped - Rant Warning
On my way to my ride yesterday I had gone about 1 mile when some genius in a pickup yelled "F*%&ing Bikers!" out the window as he passed. I gave him my standard smile and wave, ensuring he'd get no satisfaction out of it. About a mile and a half later, I was at an intersection and someone honked when the light changed. I didn't think anything of it, since the next light 100 yards ahead was also red. At the next light I stopped and when it was about to change back to green I started clicking into my pedal. Well, that a$$hole honked again. This time I whipped around, stooped to his level, and gave him a clear, concise "F&*$ YOU!"; the kind with a full beat between words. What an a$$hole! Wouldn't you know about 3/4 of the way through the intersection some other kindly gentleman in a pickup hollers "Get out of the road, f*@%ing bikers!" at me. I fired back with the middle finger. The next f^&#er who yelled something at me was getting a tire pump thrown at him.
Keep in mind that on a road bike you can accelerate from a standstill at least as quickly as a car, and I'm not in anyone's way. My taxes pay for the roads just as much as everyone else's, and in fact the no toothed meth-head who yelled at me the second time is undoubtedly more of a detriment to society. "Wipe the spray paint off your upper lip, jerk ass."
A suggestion was made that the next time someone yells something I present him with the canned ham. Just drop trou' (short for trousers) and keep riding.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Japan Trip - Vol II
With the success of yesterday's post reviewing the first day of my trip, I'm back again to regale you in my adventures for the second day of travel. This included the flight from Chicago to Nagoya, Japan and has a few key notes for anyone out there who might be traveling internationally in the near future.Don't Be Greedy
My second flight (first of the second day) from Chicago to Nagoya was called a non-stop flight. And by non-stop, the good folks at United Airlines mean you'll be stopping in San Francisco to change planes, and generally fend for yourself. I'll get to that part in minute.
I awoke to a cacophony of alarms - if you remember I had set three to wake me so I wouldn't miss my flight. First came the mobile telephone alarm, which takes a few button presses to silence for good. Before I had that figured out, the hotel wake-up call chimed in further confusing my less than rested brain. As I started to come to, my watch fired off its alarm confirming to my brain that there was some reason I had to get up that morning. Ah yes, to catch a flight.
I got up, fixed my two complimentary cups of coffee and hopped in the shower. Cleaned and refreshed I quickly put down the first cup of coffee, and emptied the second cup into a standard paper "to go" cup provided by the hotel - a nice touch, packed up my stuff and checked out.
Back in the main area of the airport, I again went through security hoping for enough time to get some breakfast. I arrived to late at the hotel to catch dinner and left to early for breakfast, and the Clif Bars and Fig Newtons just weren't holding me over. No such luck. At some point I must have acquired a Starbucks coffee, because it's cup comes into play in the following story.Was that Necessary?
I boarded the flight to San Francisco with my Starbucks coffee, wishing it was fuller. Remembering that United serves the SB on their flights I felt at ease.
Once in the air, the flight attendants came around with the drink cart with their normal offerings. I asked politely for a coffee, and asked if I could have it in my own cup. The flight attendant quickly cut me down stating that she had to have enough for all of the passengers. I responded stating that I didn't like the foam cups because they tend to spill on me, and if she would put the same amount in my cup, I would appreciate it. She ignored my request, and when she brought my Styrofoam cup of coffee over she thrust it into my hand spilling a large amount onto my pants, book, iPod and all down my hand. I quickly held it over the aisle to avoid spilling more onto my lap, looked her in the eye and asked her "Was that really necessary?" She turned away as if nothing had just happened. Wench.
I poured the remaining contents into my own SB cup (complete with lid) and held the worthless Styrofoam cup waiting for it to dry. When the second flight attendant passed (you know how they work two to a cart), she noticed my empty cup and asked if I'd like another coffee. "Yes, that would be great" I said. I added that to my own cup and VOILA, a full cup. Take that you ornery bitch!The Wench Gets her Revenge
Later in the flight, the flight attendants came down the aisle collecting garbage and so on. As luck would have it, I got the ornery bitch again and as she reached over me to collect my neighbor's trash, she poured the backwash of someone else's Coke onto my lap. Without restraint, I fired off my response: "Are you fucking kidding me?" Taking pleasure in my sewer of a lap, she simply collected our cups and moved on. I don't know if I look like someone she doesn't like or the woman is just a royal bitch, but I did nothing to offend her other than boarding her flight. If the United attendants wore name tags I surely would have complained to the folks in charge upon my arrival in Japan.
United Airlines, if you're reading I was on Flight 831 (7:10 AM) out of Chicago on July 21st. I'll be happy to speak to customer service regarding my complaints.Non-Stop has a New Meaning
When we touched down in San Francisco, they informed us that we would be making a short stop to change planes. A short stop on a non-stop flight, gotcha. What they didn't tell us that they would not be directing us to our new plane. Our instructions were to inquire at the United desk at our gate for directions to the next flight. As luck would have it, that desk was unmanned.
I looked at the departures board and found my flight was boarding at Gate 100, check. Now, scanning the gate signs it became painfully obvious that the gates were numbered 1-96. Hmm, no gate 100. I wandered around aimlessly for a while until I came across a small sign reading something to the effect of "Transport to International Terminal". As I walked up to the sign, an international looking woman quickly walked up to me and ushered me off to an unmarked door, leading to some behind-the-scenes area. It was there that I boarded an unmarked bus with other international looking people, where we were shuttled off to the International Terminal. The whole thing was pretty shady, and I found it hard to believe that that's how they run their airport. Whatever, I found where I was supposed to be.A Pain in the Ass
The bulk of my flying was yet to come, and I boarded the last flight with a fear in my heart. You see, I was seated in the middle of 5 seats, in the front row, on a 9+ hour flight. My good fortune won out as I noticed there was a TON of leg room in the front row. I took my seat, whipped out a book and tried to get comfortable. Over the course of the flight the seat became less and less comfortable, to the point where I thought I'd have to have some sort of gluteus maximus surgery. My ass muscles (really, more like my hamstrings) were so sore by the end of the flight it hurt to both stand and sit. Killer.
Whew, that's all I have for you right now. Thanks for listening, it gets MUCH better I assure you.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
