Have a great holiday!

[UPDATE] I need some more.

KING OF THE ROAD SAYS YOU MOVE TOO SLOW! KING OF THE ROAD SAYS YOU MOVE TOO SLOW!

(h/t to the Sweeney to the Stevil)

*Which, by the way, I’m loving. I highly recommend** it.

**Not that my recommendations should carry much weight, I’m just some guy on the Internet with a couple bikes and some baseless opinions. Ask your doctor or local bike shop proprietor if Rock and Roll is right for you.

So, a little more tuning, an easy 40-50 miles tomorrow or Sunday, some light riding next week, and then it’s off to Philly where we will be joined by none other than Fatty his own self, fresh from riding Leadville this weekend. I hope I get to meet him before the ride, because I’m pretty sure that I, in shoes and toeclips, riding my very first century on a what-me-worry-about-weight Long Haul Trucker, will not be setting the pace. Nevertheless, I’m really excited to do the ride.

I’ve mostly stopped doing the Friday Entertaining Interlude thing, for no good reason, but what the hell. It’s Friday, enjoy a lovely tune by Bonnie “Prince” Billy from Master and Everyone, which I’ve been playing in a loop for several days. Helluvan album, really.

Enjoy your weekends, ever’buddy, especially if you find yourself on a bike in Leadville, CO on a 100 mile ride.

[UPDATE]: It would be remiss of me not to mention: there’s still some time left to make a contribution to the Livestrong Foundation, which supports prevention, research, and support for cancer survivors and their families. You may conveniently do so here at my fundraising page, if you’re so inclined. I’m certainly excited about the ride itself and doing something I’ve never done before. But the effort’s about coming together, and fighting cancer on behalf of our families and friends. So if you’ve been thinking about supporting our effort, now would be a great time to pitch in.

And thank you to everyone that’s made a contribution so far, to support me, the team, the Nelson family, and to fight cancer. I’m grateful, and we’ll do our best to make you proud. Cheers.

Bonus points for speculations about the story going on in the video.

Smudgemo posted this awesome film, telling the other side of the story. Enjoy this short documentary from StreetsFilms, Veronica Moss, A.U.T.O. Lobbyist. If loving her Navigator is wrong, she doesn’t wanna be right.

And finally, someone over at Eschaton posted this, and I gotta say, this might just knock Red Fang out of my top spot for greatest video of all time. Might. I haven’t decided yet. But if I was stuck on the proverbial desert island with only two music videos, Red Fang and this one would probably be the two.

Happy Thursday!

[UPDATE]: So before I saw that video, I knew I’d heard of Zach Galifianakis, but I had no idea who Bonnie “Prince” Billy was. This is who he is, wow. He’s really, really good.

[UPDATE AGAIN]: Jesus. This is beautiful.

[UPDATE ONCE MORE]: This is wonderful too. Okay, I’ll be visiting a brick-and-mortar record store tonight… I wonder if there are any left?

No matter what happens now, you won’t be afraid, because you know today has been the most perfect day you’ve ever seen. Have a good weekend.

The fine weather brings about a generally pleasant demeanor in Washingtonians (at least the ones I saw and greeted on bikes and sidewalks, the motorists are still angry, but I understand). Besides the ambient happiness, this has been a pretty knock-out week. Allow me to report, in no particular chronological order, all the goodness.

There are no disc golf courses in D.C. proper, and one would think that living in a dense metropolitan region would make it difficult to find a good field to practice airing out one’s plastic. Unless, of course, you live in Northeast. You see, our neighborhood is home not only to Catholic University of America, but also to a couple handfuls of abbeys, monasteries, convents, and other religious institutions. Many of them have large, lovely grounds, but most are inaccessible to the public.

Howard University’s Divinity School, however, has great big beautiful publicly accessible estate right at the corner of Taylor and 14th St NE, just a couple blocks from my house. Here’s a look from the hill top down at 14th, a gentle but narrow slope about 600 feet down to the lamp post by the street, with 3 big beautiful trees spaced evenly right down the middle. About a par 4 I’d say.

This is one part of the front grounds. The other side of the driveway is another 600 foot strip going uphill with scrub and thorns on the left, and there’s another flatter meadow beyond that. It’s beautifully taken care of, has lots of targets, some rough, and just enough well-placed concrete to provide some OB. As far as practice fields go, it really doesn’t get much better than this.

Last night, after I got home from work, I grabbed a bag of drivers and headed up the street to practice. I’d been wanting to work on an aspect of my throwing based on a tip I’d picked up (I won’t bother going into it, ask me in comments if you’re interested), and almost from the get-go I felt like my throw had clicked and gone up another level and a half. Everything I threw went straighter and farther than I’m used to, and with less effort.

It seems like a stupid thing to include in a list of wonderful things from the week gone by, I realize, but it really felt that much better, the way I’ve been trying to get it to feel for almost 4 years. Pennsylvania State Championships at Codorus State Park in two weeks, woo!

This morning’s commute was a practically perfect ride on Nigel to drop the girl at school, then across Mt. Pleasant to Rock Creek Park, then up Virginia Ave. to downtown. I had a grin plastered on my face the whole way. It was sad pulling into my building’s garage, it felt like a descent into the underworld, dark cool and echoing the screeches of SUV’s trying to negotiate the tight corkscrews that take them to the deeper levels. But I picked up 9ish miles of the sweetest, loveliest part of the morning, and upon logging the ride realized that I crossed the thousand mile mark for the year!

(For BikeGame! fans keeping track at home, I’ve got 26 points, two points shy of Level 5. Woo!)

So far this year, I’ve only ridden Clovis twice for a little under 19 miles, which is a shame, but trails just haven’t been a priority thus far. It’s not a totally sad story, as our roommate has taken a shine to him (and will probably end up becoming his proud owner), and she takes him down some muddy trails on the way to and from work. I’m always happy to come home and find fresh mud and grass stuck to his downtube.

Sylvie’s been my ride ten times for a little under 90 miles, mostly on weekends since she has the double-kid seat and Mrs. Higgins prefers the springy Brooks city-bike saddle. Cledus, my thoroughbred, my poor Long Haul Trucker, dreams of touring the continent while he performs the chores of a city bike with dignity and aplomb. Cledus got out 48 times for a little over 370 miles, every one of them a delight.

But no one else in the stable is within reach of Nigel’s 81 rides for almost 530 miles. Over half the miles I’ve consumed this year have been chewed up by Nigel’s creamy Fat Franks, often carrying Ruby on his sheepskin-covered snapdeck, or filled on both sides with anything from a piece of stump to a whole butchered lamb. I’m an incredibly lucky man, woo!

Finally, after two months, the last of the lovely and charming spouse’s birthday presents came to fruition. Monday night we dropped the kids with friends for a children’s movie festival, took advantage of a rare opportunity to hop the Red Line downtown, and walked hand-in-hand to Constitution Hall to see these guys, and they were really, really funny.

Lord-uh-mighty, I could get used to spending time with my wife, sans kids, checking out music and theater and comedy, live performances, motion pictures, lectures, cultural events that don’t involve puppets or cartoons. Unless they’re dirty cartoons and puppets. I’d go out for that.

Oh, umm right… woo!

This weekend, we’re gonna pile a bunch of gear on the longtails, head up the C&O Canal a ways with the kids, and see if we can spend a night out on the trail. Granted, it’s a flat, beautifully manicured trail, but at this point I see that as a big plus. We’re a long, long way from lightweight touring, but fat tires, Albatross bars, and big huge bags have been really good to me this year. At least so far. I’ll bring back pictures, I think it’s gonna be pretty fun.

Here’s hopin’ your week was good, your weekend will be better, and you’re sprangin’ out of the snow and mud and rain and into some good times. Have a great weekend!

So what have I got for you. Well, to start off, here’s some highlights from the finals of the 2005 European Disc Golf Championship. In a major tournament like this one, the top 4 players in the major divisions often play a final nine holes to determine the champion. In 2005, Jesper Lundmark (Europe’s top player and the PDGA’s highest rated player) trailed Markus Kallstrom by 4 strokes, followed closely by Timo Pursio of Finland and Matthias Nilsson of Sweden.

The course is beautiful, the weather’s gorgeous, the galleries are filled with enthusiastic fans, the players throw farther and more accurately than should be possible, and the finish is inspiring. The camera work is as good as any I’ve seen for disc golf, HyzerTV did an outstanding job of covering the event. I also really enjoy the commentary from Greg Catch and Johnny Balls. Some gems:

“Oh! Whaht’s he thinkin’ about dare?”
“Perfect style with the socks and he elevates…”
“There’s three birdies as we wanna see them, and Timo with a… par shot.”
“…he serves it! Look at the elbow like… like a waiter, serving the basket.”
“Ooooooo… biiig arrrrm.”

It’s a good time, enjoy it if you’re so inclined.

And what could be better than that? I’ll tell you what, bein’ on a boat, motherscratcher!

(This is not audibly safe for work, be warned.)

I only have one thing to say to those of you that are saying to yourselves, “he really phoned it in this week.” That’s an insult to the people that phone it in, day in, day out. Phoning it in implies some effort, at least enough to pick up a phone and submit something that barely clears the bar. Honestly, I didn’t even do that much.

I’ll post again when I have something that needs sayin’, otherwise I’m gonna go outside, throw some plastic, ride some bike. Take a good hard look at the muthafuckin’ bike, and have a great weekend.

I’m rollin’ with the changes, and now so are you.

Keep on rollin’, have a great weekend, and apologies for the REO if you’re having a reaction. Please don’t hate me for my Illinois roots.

Tomorrow, I’m flying to the West Coast to join the rest of the family, who are already busily visiting grandparents, aunts and uncles. There will be a little time in Tahoe, there will be some time in Santa Cruz (which will most certainly include some time here), and it’ll be wonderful.

But first, I have to spend a little time in the clutches of United Airlines, which is like the Dragon Coach of the Skies. I can already feel the cold seat frame on my back, threadbare and cushionless. Good times!

Two days after that, this blog will be one year old, but I’ll likely be un-Internetable. Happy Birthday, blog!

Four days after that, I will have gone one full revolution around the sun without a cigarette for the first time since I was fourteen years old. At least I hope so, if I fail to make it to the one year mark with a week to go, my next post will be the harrowing tale of how I savagely beat myself nearly to death. I’m confident that won’t be the case.

Have a great week, a stellar weekend, and another bad-ass week after that. I’m outta here.

I just can’t do it anymore. Even if we hadn’t flirted with spring last week, even if I hadn’t tasted 70 degrees, I’d have had enough. I can’t even say that there’s anything super special about this winter. There was certainly some bitter cold, though not every day and not as bitter as it could have been. I’ve just had enough, and I’m having a really hard time gearing up to do rides just for fun, because it just ain’t fun. I’m done waking up at first light and layering up in silence to get saddle time when it’s 28 degrees. The goddam saddle can wait until it gets into the fucking 50’s, and I can see at least as much blue sky as the goddam Lorax did before he hoisted himself the fuck outta Dodge.

Bitch bitch bitch, I know. Apologies for the bad attitude, sounds like someone around here could use a heapin’ helpin’ of Grace. Already taken care of.

Have a good weekend, whatever it is you end up doing. I’ll be packin’ away the Cheetohs and watchin’ porn. By Monday, my pecker should look like a goddam carrot.

But I can surely offer you, on this lovely afternoon, Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer doing an acoustic medley of Spinal Tap and Folksmen tunes, as well as an interview. They’ll have funny and interesting things to say. Enjoy!

Have a great weekend, y’all.

When the weather breaks enough to ride into work in fingerless gloves, a wool layer thinner, sans long johns and balaclava, that’s a good time.

When you take on the previously undefeated office foosball champ, slam fireballs at him from the back row, take a few blurry bombs yourself, and emerge victorious ten-eight… man, that’s a good time.

When the KickBack’s you bought on Valentines Day Special arrive, each box containing two little heart-shaped candies from our sweethearts at Xtracycle, and then they install in about 15 minutes, and then within 30 seconds you can tell that things you thought were perfect have just gotten even a little bit better, that’s a good time. Totally.

When the new laptop shows up, it’s a sturdy chassis with a rock solid keyboard and comes up flawlessly, that’s a good time. When you figure that, with your schedule, it’ll probably take a week to build it out as a dual-boot XP/Ubuntu lappy with all the updates and packages you want, and then you knock it out in a couple of hours, that’s a really good time. Then when Ubuntu sees your wireless, your NVidia video card, and your sound card without any special procedures or workarounds, that’s a great time. When it proceeds to suspend to RAM perfectly, that’s amazing, and when it handles suspend to disk perfectly without any tinkering whatsoever, that’s an unnervingly good time, and you’re not quite sure which world you woke up in. But wherever it is, you want to stay, for good times abound there.

When you came into the third week of the month looking like you were going to hit your goal for riding miles real early, then go away for a 3-day weekend, then get sick and miss several days in the saddle, and come into week 4 lookin’ like you might not make it, that’s a challenge. When you close out week 4 with some take-the-long-way commutes and up-before-light rides through the deep dark woods, including one where it’s almost 50 freaking degrees, and then snuggle right up to your goal so you can hit it on the last day of the month, boy howdy that’s a good time.

Add in all the kissin’ and cuddlin’ and huggin’ I get on a semi-regular basis from them kids and the wife, and it gets a little hard for even a pleasure pig like myself to take. But I’ll take it, and make it look easy doin’ it.

Now, back in my oats-sowin’ days, before there were loved-ones to celebrate with, I’d have a week like this (or at least one that didn’t suck) and I’d return home on Friday afternoon with six tall-boys and a pack of delicious foreign cigarettes. I’d step through the door, check my messages, power up each stereo component, give the amp’s volume control a hard turn to starboard, and share this little gem with anyone in a 2 mile radius who wasn’t fortunate enough to be standing next to a running table saw or a revving Harley Davidson.

And on this splendid, sixty-three degree partly-cloudy Friday afternoon, I’m gonna share it with you. This one’s for those of you out there that want to be free, free to do what you want to do. It’s for those of you that wanna ride, that wanna ride their machines without being hassled by the man. And of course, it’s for those of you who, once upon a time (or, ya know, today) have come face to face with Friday night, trouble in your eyes, and proclaimed, “I wanna get loaded!”

Woo! Woooooooooooooo! WOOOOOOOOOOO!

I guess it’s just been that kinda week.

As a side note on the above, I’d set a goal of 340 miles for February, when I park Nigel tonight that’ll leave just eight more for the morning. Perfect, just need to find a coffee shop about 4 miles away. March gets lighter, warmer, and there’s 3 more days, so 400 seems like the right spot to shoot for. That’s just 15 more miles each week, just one more pleasant hour spent crankin’ with reasonable vigor through these Mid-Atlantic forests as green pixels starts to emerge in the branches. I think it’s gonna be a good time.

Have a great weekend! Do eet! Doo eet now!

[Update]: This week: 101 miles and change. This month: 340.45. That’s clearing the bar and hoping your t-shirt doesn’t catch it on the way over. What a goddam gorgeous morning.

First, a classic from the late Lux Interior. Bad Music for Bad People is still one of my top 50 of all time. I haven’t seen ‘em in years, but knowing that the world is now without him still hurts some. Stick out your can one last time for the garbage man, won’t ya?

The second tune’s from a rock star dead 12 years, but I only found out about it this week, so my sad lower lip is still sticking out about it. I had no idea that Patty Donahue of The Waitresses died in 1996. I wouldn’t even say that they were particularly influential to me, but I liked them and her particularly, cute, sarcastic chain-smoker that she was. She knew what this boy liked.

Have a great weekend y’all, see ya next week.

Being born and going from a single cell to a 5th grader is a big deal, sure. Getting taller, hairier, and goofier before discovering boys, punk rock, drugs, and Marx is a big deal too. Blossoming into something that looks a lot like an adult, attaining advanced levels of education, being involved in relationships and career opportunities that really will go down in your permanent record is a great big deal.

But the 30’s and the whirling myriad friends and events that constitute this part of the ride (as well as those produced in its course) stand tall on a promontory high above the others. Over the last ten years, she’s been through the Pacific Northwest, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, and our nation’s capitol, Washington, D.C. All have been charmed, and all but the last were heartbroken when she left.

She picked up a husband (me) along the way, in reasonably good condition and at a considerable bargain, and bred with him (me). Twice. Some say that this is proof that she’s still fallible. I say that may be true, but it means that even though she seems god-like, she’s still one of us.

If this trend continues, her 40’s will be world-shaking. To celebrate, and honor, my lovely, talented, charming, beautiful wife, I was going to post “Happy Birthday” by Altered Images from 1981. But then I watched it and realized that it contains a much higher content of things from the 80’s we actually should be embarassed about than I remembered. You think I’m kidding? Click that link, watch it, and tell me I’m wrong.

So, instead, let’s hear from some of the Greatest Rock Icons of All Time, and let’s start with The King. Take it away Elvis!

Woo! I’m all shook up too! Next up, the Beatles! (Honey, pretend your name is “Saturday Club”, it makes the experience much better, trust me.)

Just wonderful, thanks fellas! And last, perhaps the most famous, most recognized name in Rock History… folks give it up for Satan!

That was great! And, believe me, much less evil than Altered Images. Ya learn something new every day. Every day for 14,600 days, give or take a leap day or 10. That’s a lot of learning, one would think someone this age would be pretty good at it by now.

I think you’re really good at it, Honey, and I just know the next 40 are going to be spectacular. Except for this new Depression, that’s gonna be tough. And the super TB epidemic will suck pretty hard, and of course, the Zombies. But everything after that is gonna be great! I’m a lucky lucky boy for getting to grow old(er) with you, Happy Birthday.

Everyone who’s not my wife: have a great weekend. Everyone who is my wife: get ready to have a really, really great weekend.