Friday Afternoon Interlude (Countin’ It Down Edition)
The other night, I had Nigel up on the stand with both wheels off. He’d been actin’ funny, I’m not a good enough wrench to have intuited what the problem was, and tearing down and rebuilding the wheels sounded like a pleasant way to connect with the old boy. Bearings were repacked, the truing stand came out, tires were rotated, brake rotors were tuned, and a couple Magic Hat Roxy Rolles were consumed to the sweet sounds of Elvis, Merle Haggard, and the Flying Burrito Brothers. It was heavenly, it really was.
Sin City came on, caught my ear and burrowed in. It got me thinking about the reckoning coming for the whole world, but in an implicit rather than explicit way. Check it out, see if it hits you the same way.
11 days left of the Bush presidency. I would have thought, a year ago, “what could possibly happen in 11 days?” Now I’m just hoping nothing (else) breaks irreparably or catches fire before Neo’s team can get in there to put tourniquets on each of America’s bleeding limbs. My fingers, the ones that aren’t rubbing worry stones, holding 4-leaf clovers, or stroking rabbits’ feet, are crossed.
But my wheels? They’re freaking perfect. I’d never noticed it before, but my rear axle was protruding about a quarter millimeter out of the dropout, so I yanked it and hit the ends with a file. So now, besides the wheels being yeah-baby-true, besides the bearings riding in fresh Phil grease, besides the cones being adjusted to Virgo tolerances of yummy, besides the Fat Franks having been rotated, the quick release is actually clamped to the Free Radical’s dropouts. Much improved and buttery smooth, sailing into work this morning was joyful.
We’re getting ice pellets tomorrow, sounds like a hot chocolate and movie day to me. Got anything fun planned for the weekend? Good. Do that, and I’ll see ya next week.
Tags: Entertaining Interludes
