Pint-sized politicos

So… yesterday was my turn to drop my daughter and her friends off at soccer practice. After picking Addy up from Kids Club (the after school program she attends both in the morning and the afternoon) we went home and lickitysplit attended to her homework, got a snack, and donned soccer gear, before bolting out to pick up her friends.

Addy and her friends, Julia and Zoe, are little chatter boxes. They start the moment they see each other and, as far as I can tell, don’t stop until well after they’ve parted each other’s company. With Addy anyway, I see her energy and excitement level sky rocket when she gets together with her friends. Probably has much to do with being an only child and being completely bored with her boring bore bore parents who are not doubt the boringest bores that ever bored a bore. Borrrrrrrr inngggggg!

Anyhoo… trucking along through rush hour traffic in our little Honda Civic with these three little motor mouths, who are clearly violating the sound speed limit, crammed into the back seat, I couldn’t help wondering why anyone would want more than one of these things. Egads! The very idea makes me want to gobble an entire Entenmann’s raspberry coffee cake. MMmmmmmm.

It was next to impossible to follow the flits and flights, loops and dips, hops and jumps of their conversational trajectory.  But at one point, as we travelled down Lincoln, a semi-busy road, Julia piped up suddenly, wanting to know, “Who are you voting for?” No doubt this comment was sparked by the numerous Obama lawns signs along Lincoln, far outnumbering McCain signs. It had been sometime since I’d driven this way and I couldn’t repress a little grin of satisfaction at the sight, although I immediately self-checked myself out of fear of becoming smug; like I told my wife last night, I will not be content until I see Obama place his hand on the bible and be sworn in as the 44th President of these United States. But I digress…

Addy immediately responded with, “Obama.”

To which Julia replied: “Thank you very much.”

Zoe seemed undecided, however. She said, “I don’t vote.” But after further discussion she announced her support for Obama.

It was pretty cute.

Name the movie

From this quote:

Are you crying? Are you crying? Are you crying? There’s not crying, there’s no crying in baseball! Roger Hornsby was my manager, and he called me a talking pile of pig vomit! And that was when my parents drove all the way down from Michigan to see me play the game! And did I cry? NO! NO!”

Bicycle commuting slacker, that’s me

I’ve been really slacking off on riding my bike to work lately, especially last week in which I only rode in one day, even though the entire week’s weather was pretty riding friendly.

So this morning when I saw it was some 60 degress and might get up to 70 with sunshine, I made sure to get on my bike. But I left about a half later than I normally do, which made a pretty significant difference in the commute. It was the traffic. There was much more of it. I was ready at any moment to kick out with my outside foot into the door or quarter panel of any vehicle that got too close. But that never happened. Still, I think I’d rather make the ride in earlier to avoid the traffic.

Of course, as it gets colder that won’t even be a concern. Still, with global warming and climate change it will no doubt stay warmer longer. Evidence of this: we have day lillies in our back yard, which are dying and read to be wraked up and composted, but popping up between the dead, color-drained stalks, are new sprouts. If it gets warm enough long enough they’ll bloom again. But according to the weather channel it is going to cool down this week. So….

My not so new bicycling back pack

Sometime back I got a new backpack, one specifically for biking. It is fairly water tight. Colleen took some pics of me heading off to work one morning but of course slacker that I am I’m just getting around to posting them now.

Anyoo… here they are, for anyone who gives a rat’s backside.

The glow you see isn’t my ass buffed to high gloss shine, but rather the reflective back of my bike seat. Although having my ass buffed does sound intriguing. The backpack also has reflective stripes running down the back, and it is equipped with straps that stretch across the chest and stomach to take the weight off your shoulders and place it more on your back and hips. Less strain.

And here I am riding a way. Nice morning, but was back in the summer. The temp is a bit more chill these days. Well, in this morning it was anyway — 54 degress. But this afternoon was beautiful – 79 and very blue, clear skies. Aaaaah.

And here I am on the same day just as I take off. Huh. I never realized how gumpy I look on my bike. Ah, well. Being hip is for the youngsters. I’m 40. It’s my job to be a goof. My daughter seems to think so anyway.

Cousin John tailgates UoI football game, throws bologna at passing females

Recently my cousin John, who lives in Iowa, sent me this email w/ picture:

I tailgated with this guy Robert last week. When he said he worked in the movies, I pitched him my idea about a comedy featuring doctors in the Korean War. After an hour of talking it over he said “You’re drunk and I keep telling you I tear ticket at the Iowa City Carmike Cinema” Then I fell over the keg and threw up. Incidentally Robert is the first person to ever beat me in a game of “Throw balogna slices trying to get them to stick to the legs of unsuspecting girls walking by in shorts”. He won 23 to 19. However, I redeemed my self by beating him 30 to 0 in the “Get the hell beat out of you by a girl that got balogna thrown at her” contest. That’s right!!! A shut out. Not only did every girl I hit with meat slap me stupid but 11 girls he hit preffered to stomp me bloody instead of him. That’s because I’ve got a way with the ladies. I’m not one to kiss and tell. So I’ll just say I still have no peripheral vision in my right eye and leave it at that. John

We know it’s fall because…

…of course the leaves are changing color, and falling to the the ground. Hell, we got one house on our block with the entire front lawn already covered with leaves. Yikes! And there is a certain crispness in the air, especially in the mornings. And the kids are back to school. Addy’s doing second grade and she loves her teacher, who used to be an Opera singer and speaks several languages, which is probably why Addy has a little girl from Germany in her class, plus another little girl who is Russian.

Anyhoo…one of the other tell tale signs that fall is here, although perhaps not officially, is Addy had her first soccer game today. She’s on a new team this year. Only two girls from her team last year are on the team this year, and at first she was a little nervous about that, but the new girls were so friendly, coming right up to her to introduce themselves, the first day of practice that there was no problem. And of course, a new team means a new coach, but she likes the coach too. So we’re all good. The game went well, despite the early time, 9am, and the rain. It wasn’t a downpour but it was steady. But the girls didn’t seem to mind much. Addy never complained, and really couldn’t get out on the field enough. Although she is still a bit of a daydreamer at time. And even though at this age score is not a big issue, it was a freaking route, our team winning by a score or something like 8-2. Woo hoo!

But back to the rain if I may. Turned out we were lucky to have such an early game. The rain picked up later this morning. And it is still raining now. I read that because of Hurricane Ike we will be getting a lot of rain this weekend.

Ridin’ in the rain….

… I was just ridin’ in the rain. What glorious, albeit chilly, feeling. Ridin’ in the rain!

I didn’t ride to work yesterday. Nor did I this morinng. But last night after work, I did. It was overcast, pretty dark clouds, and it had already started coming down before I got to Addy’s school to pick her up. But it slowed and then stopped, and I figured I bought this new windbreaker/rain jacket at the Eddie Bauer outlet store in West Branch on our way back form Up North Labor Day weekens. If I wasn’t going to ride in the rain, what did I buy it for?

So off I went. It wasn’t bad. At first. A little drizzle. But then it really started coming down, and that point I was already half way through my ride so there was not realy point in turning back. Just needed to press one.

My ears started to get cold, and ache. So I stopped and pulled my hood up over my helmet. Sure, I probably looked dorky, but I was dry and my head was a lot warmer.

I could feel the water through the jacket a little. And my shorts, which are not waterproof at all, were soaked. But I din’t mind the water. It wasn’t that cold.

Actually, it was kind of cool riding in the rain. It added and extra element of challenge, I guess. The only real bummer was that my glasses got speckled with rain drops. I cleaned dried them off once but it didn’t take long for them get covered with water droplets again. I could still see but I often had to look above the lenses. It something I’ll have to learn to live with, becaue I don’t do contact lenses.

Looks like it is going to be nicer tonight. I’m going to try and make it two nights in a row. My evening rides are longer than the ride to work, and therefore better exercise.

I’m old but I can still play Dodge Ball like a mf’r

Of course, that was Sunday, at my nephew’s 13th birthday party, and I am still recovering. I’m not kidding. I’m limping around like an old man. I have to hold on the railing just to get up and down the stairs. My thigh muscles kill. So does my back.

You  know what this feels like? Like the morning after the first day of football practice when I was in high school. The only difference is back then, when I was — what? sixteen — I got up and went to practice again. Now — shit! I have a hard time getting my socks. This aging shit suck ass!

But you know what? I’d do it all again. Because I fucking love dodge ball! And I am a serious about it too. When I saw that they were play, I swear, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. And I felt thist tingle of delight run all up and down my spine. I jumped right. I wasn’t waiting to be invited. I think it was that first throw that threw my back out. I felt it. But I didn’t even try to take it easy.

See. I was pretty much a skinny little shit in high school. I had to play pretty hard just to be competitive at most sports — football, basketball, etc. But at dodge ball I ecelled. I’m not exactly sure what it was. A combination of things I suppose. I was quick, and had good reflexes. I reacted well. I once dodge four balls all at once, like some kid of rubber guy or whatever. I couldn’t throw the ball very hard — my arms were just too skinny — but I was pretty good at misdirection and I learned to throw the ball low, spin it, make it curve a little. Also, I think I thrived on the relative chaos of Dodge Ball. I feel comfortable in it; I feel like I can see or somehow sense everything that’s going on. And I liked creating chaos in that context too. I don’t know.

I mean. I don’t usually toot my own horn, but I’m a pretty damn good dodge ball player. And I love to play. If there had been an Olympic Team I would have tried out. Seriously.

So why haven’t I played in years, decades even? There are leagues. I don’t know. I really don’t.

Of course, I may have been a bit too serious to be playing with younger kids. My poor niece. She’s only 7. And I almost gave her a concussion when I attempted a cross court throw just over the top of her and it got a way from me, pegging her right upside the head. We’re talking dead on- BAM! (Sorry Kendall) Man, I felt bad. She was okay, though. Whew!

NIN Toledo show sucked!

Don’t misunderstand. That’s nothing against NIN, Trent and company. But the accoustics at the SeaGate Conference center were pretty lame. But you know, I could have lived with that. What choice did I have, right?

No, what really pissed me off were the assholes that push up toward the front when the concert starts. We had main floor, just like Colleen had at The Palace on Saturday. And we got their early enough to be about five rows back center, and after the warm up band we managed to get up to about second row. It was pretty cool. I’d never been that close and I wanted to see a show close up for once at least part of it. But fucking A! Once the lights went down and the band came out there are these fuckers who just shove right up, trying to get up front, passed the people who staked out a spot early.

This bullshit is nothing new. And I know I probably sound like an old crank. But really, I could deal with people pushing up on me. That’s to be expected. But it’s these 6’4″, 200lbs plus dudes that clearly have a fucking homo-erotic obsession with Trent. They just used their weight to press down on you. And I had three of them converging on me. I lasted one song and decided, fuck this shit! Colleen stayed, of course. You can’t budge her.

I suppose I could have just lingered in the back. The view was fine. But I was so fucking pissed. I mean, I had a hard time breathing, I felt like I was about to be trampled. It pretty much induced a panic attack bording on low-grade PTSD. So I left the main floor and went all the way to the back and sat down on the floor with  my back against the wall.

Sitting there, I remembered why I didn’t do this shit anymore. It isn’t any fun!

Although when a guy tripping on acid sat down next to me it got a little interesting.

But then I saw the fat fuck in the sleeveless t-shirt with the mohawk that almost crushed me. I wanted to pull out my car keys, hold them between my fingers in a clenched fist and punch the prick right in the fucking throat. That was when I knew I had to get the hell out of there.

So I bolted, and walked around downtown Toledo.

It was a nice night, cool and breezy, bud damn that place is a dead town after dark, let me tell you. Probably would have been even deader if there hadn’t been a Mud Hens’ game going on. I really needed a smoke but could not find any place that sold cigarettes. So, I found the bar where Colleen and I ate before the show, had a beer and watched the end of the Tigers’ game against Cleveland. Tigers fucking lost!

Shit night! Needless to say I will not be doing that again.

Road Rage: bicyclers vs automobile drivers

You know that bicycling is becoming a big deal when it gets a front page above the fold in the Sunday New York Times Style section. Sure, it’s not the front, front page, but still.

This particular article focuses on the growing tension or conflict between automobile drivers and bicyclers. It leads off with a story of a guy that started biking to save on gas and maybe lose some weight but after the dude basically gets purposely run down by some jerks in a car (according the bicyclers version of the story) he’s done riding, at least for this season.

I got to say. I don’t blame the guy.

Of course, this happened in New York City. If I lived there I’m not sure I’d try to ride my bike to work. I live in a small city and I head to work early enough to avoid most of the morning traffic. And my ride is barely a mile, if that. It is enjoyable for me. The ride home, after work, is little sketchier, which is why I’ve opted to not ride my daughter home on my bike from her day camp. I ride home, get the car, and go pick her up. I probably don’t save much, if any, in gas, but I still like to do the ride. But my concerns are not so much because I fear angry, aggressive automobile drivers who want to go after people I bicycles. It is simply that there is heavy traffic and some of the intersections that I’d have to contend with make me nervous. Alone, I don’t have a problem taking the risk, but not with my daughter on board.

Since I’ve started riding, I’ve noted that most people in automobiles are pretty accommodating. The rare close calls that I’ve had were because the drivers simply did not notice me. And I can understand that. I’ve been unaware of bicyclers myself at times. This was before I started riding. Now, I seem to notice them everywhere. My strategy is to assume the people in cars do NOT see me. I ride defensively. Look, I’d rather lose my stride than get plowed by some guy in a hurry talking on his cell phone.

Of course, the Times article is highlight conflict because it makes for a better story. And stories about all the people taking to bikes to save on gas etc have pretty much been played out. There are conflicts but I think they are more the exception than the rule. Still, as more inexperienced riders take the streets the more problems that will arise as a result. Let’s just hope people don’t get killed.

The article states that

Every year, the war of the wheels breaks out in the sweet summer months, as four-wheelers react with aggravation and anger to the two-wheelers competing for the same limited real estate.

Really? Every year? I wasn’t aware this was an annual thing. But I assume the article is talking about major cities like New York, LA, Portland, Seattle, etc.

Some interesting stats:

This summer, the number of new cyclists has increased strongly across the country. In June, nearly 11,000 first-time riders participated in Denver’s Bike to Work Day. Dahon, makers of folding bikes popular with commuters, reports a 30-percent sales increase from a year ago, with many models having been sold out since the spring. Transportation Alternatives, a bicycling advocacy group, estimates that 131,000 people cycle daily in New York, up 77 percent since 2000.

Check out the one biker is combating increased aggression toward him and bicyclers in general:

Having noted the uptick in aggression, Michelle Holcomb, a cycling instructor in Dallas, now carries a secret weapon. Recently, as she cycled into an intersection at a four-way stop and began turning left, a driver at the cross street revved and shot through, laughing as he missed her front wheel by inches. “Smile for the camera,” muttered Ms. Holcomb, who videotaped the incident with her new helmet camera.

Neat, eh.

But there is another level of conflict as well, between the bikers and pedestrians:

Last Thursday evening, at the peak of Manhattan rush hour, Howard Savery was crossing Broadway at 40th Street with fellow bipeds. Abruptly he reared back, just avoiding a crash with an impatient cyclist, racing through the red light.

“Well, that’s a first!” remarked Mr. Savery, a banker, who was heading home to Staten Island.

First time he’d nearly been knocked over by a cyclist in Manhattan?

No, corrected Mr. Savery: “That’s the first time one of them actually beeped at me. Usually they run you down silently.”

Well, that’s just reckless and rude. That rider qualifies to be nominated for Jerk Of The Week. I wouldn’t do that. In fact, I make a point of slowing down or even stopping to insure that I do not collide with pedestrians. Of courses, it is easier because I am not riding in a place like The Big Apple.

Here is a good point:

Driver-rider hostility has become worse this summer because legions of cyclists are simply inexperienced. At least according to the drivers. “They say the cyclists are all over the road and don’t know the rules,” said Michele Mount, a spokeswoman for AAA of New Jersey.

The fact is that bicycles have the same right to be on the road as cars, but it is incumbent on those riding the bikes to learn the rules. Fight with motorists isn’t going to help matters. In a road rage incident who do you think is going to be on the losing end? The person the bike or the person in the SUV? That’s a no-brainer.

But it isn’t just ignorance on the part of some new bicyclers. It is downright arrogance:

A pandemic of obliviousness — earbuds, texting — further ramps up the tension. Recently, Scott Diamond, ride coordinator for the Morris Area Freewheelers, a New Jersey cycling club, saw what he called a trifecta of irresponsible cycling: “A guy riding his bike without a helmet, talking on his cellphone, with his kid in the bike attachment behind him.”

How fucking stupid is that?

Although, I admit that I first started riding without a helmet. That is until I started reading articles about people getting knocked off their bikes.

But the ignorance and arrogance applies to automobile drivers who don’t understand that bikes have the right, by law, to be on the road:

In every state, cyclists have the same rights and responsibilities as drivers of motor vehicles. But in the particulars, state vehicle codes and municipal ordinances vary. Consider the frustrated driver who shouts to a cyclist, “Get on the sidewalk!”

Way to be a jerk, and dumb ass!

Perhaps I’ve just been lucky, since I haven’t run into any overtly rude drivers trying to run me down. I don’t really expect to either, not where I ride, but I’m not going to ride obliviously.