As you get older one of the things you can’t help but do is hearken back to earlier times, when snowball fights were serious business and Santa’s famous list was a real concern. So in keeping with that theme I was wondering, what’s the best present you ever got? I know mine…
One of my earliest and fondest childhood memories is staying up “late” one Christmas Eve with some of the older neighbor kids ( I smell a set-up ) to try catching a glimpse of Santa. Being adept as spies, we staked out the living room, for what seemed like hours, behind the center island in my kitchen. We were about to give up when… “are those sleigh bells outside?” “Hey, someone is rattling at the back door…quick….hiiiide…shhhhhh”.
…And there, plain as day, was the jolly ole’ Fat Man himself. Relying on my stealth and surveillance skills, I carefully peered over the counter top observing Kringle doing his thing. Every once in awhile he would look in my direction and I’d pop back down with all the speed of the fastest prairie dog ever.
Eventually, this 5 year old spy couldn’t maintain his steely composure any longer and belted out a huge “Ho, Ho, Ho!” When addressing Santa it is important to speak his language, I figured. Santa responded with a big “Ho, Ho, Ho!” of his own.
I thought I would burst.
To this day I have no idea how (or if) I slept at all that night. The next morning I tore into the gifts under the tree. After the initial flurry I headed to one of my favorite spots in the house to play. This spot was a little corner ledge, in our sunken living room, where a heater vent was located. It made an excellent HQ for action figures to hide out in their super lair (vent) and repel down the cliff (ledge) in order to save mankind. Hey, it was before the Internet and 24 hour cartoon channels so we used what we had, mainly our imagination.
And there he was, an extra present, a stuffed bear, Henry. Henry wasn’t even wrapped, so you knew he was different. Santa put him directly in one of my favorite spots instead of under the tree, so it truly was a special delivery. The Big Guy knew I liked to play here, so clearly this was his little nod to me. Henry had music box inside him with a key sticking out of his back.
He was a musician.
Even though Henry was awesome, he could not be my favorite stuffed animal. That position was already taken by “Snoopy”. Snoopy wasn’t really that Snoopy, but it hardly mattered. He had seniority and, in matters of plush toyness, seniority is everything. Henry was happy to fall in along side, as Snoopy’s sidekick (my Woodstock was a hairbrush and even kids with great imaginations have trouble playing with a stupid brush).
I’m telling you, it takes a lot for a special delivery present to be willing to play second fiddle, but Henry was a team player and his attitude about the whole thing made him even specialer.
Henry, Snoopy and I had lots of good times together until several years later when his music box quit working. I was very upset at this, probably more than I should’ve been. Looking back now I can connect it to my Mom being sick and having medical tests done in Iowa City, but back then I just knew the music had stopped and I needed it to come back on, pronto.
My Dad took Henry in for some “surgery”, a musicboxectomy of some sort. The procedure was a success and all was well for awhile. When Henry’s music faded again a short time later I was more prepared to accept him becoming a silent partner. We had many more good years together, Henry and I.
In this day and age, with all kinds of whirling do-dads and thingys to do kids’ imagining for them I wonder if they can have any special bond to a gift. Just when I’m about to give up hope I hear about my neighbor kid. He’s about 7 and this Christmas Eve his mom spotted a large 10 point buck in her back yard, so she rushed to take a picture of it. His Dad is a big hunter so this boy has seen lots of deer up close, but when she showed him the picture he didn’t see a deer in his yard, like she expected. He saw a reindeer, one of Santa’s of course. He was just as geeked out as that 5 year old spy was about 35 years ago.
There may be some hope for us yet.
A belated Merry Christmas to all.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
More Sweater Related Content
Readers have "demanded" it, so CDNM proudly brings you more sweater content...
We begin our discussion today with the origins of this noble garmet. Sweaters are believed to have begun with 19th century English sailors who found the wool kept them warm. The brightly colored patterns helped to identify their sorry asses if they fell into the sea.
The cardigan sweater gets its name from the 7th Earl of Cardigan who is the bad mofo that led the infamous charge of the light brigade. How 'bout that?
You still reading? Wow, you're either a glutton for punishment or you really love sweaters.
I expect my sweater induced traffic bump will be culled now that the Christmas season has passed, so I thought I'd get one last harrah out of the deal.
Moving on...
We begin our discussion today with the origins of this noble garmet. Sweaters are believed to have begun with 19th century English sailors who found the wool kept them warm. The brightly colored patterns helped to identify their sorry asses if they fell into the sea.
The cardigan sweater gets its name from the 7th Earl of Cardigan who is the bad mofo that led the infamous charge of the light brigade. How 'bout that?
You still reading? Wow, you're either a glutton for punishment or you really love sweaters.
I expect my sweater induced traffic bump will be culled now that the Christmas season has passed, so I thought I'd get one last harrah out of the deal.
Moving on...
Friday, December 17, 2010
The Sweater Effect
It’s a relatively familiar concept, the butterfly effect. This metaphor, born from chaos theory, tries to elegantly convey the fleeting, fragile and intractable nature of – well – everything. In other words: is it possible, theoretically, for a butterfly flapping its wings in South America to be the root cause of an eventual tornado in Texas (yes, really).
The butterfly itself is really just a poetic substitution, a symbol for any number of possible catalysts. Nearly anything can cause a ripple - a bird, a plane….a sweater.
From looking at a graph of monthly visitors you can see that my blog chugged right along, being perused by a handful of regular readers and occasionally an internet passerby or two.
Then The Most Interesting Sweater In The World was introduced.
Visits swelled, bandwidth strained to keep pace. All this new traffic must have some consequence, some…..effect. I wonder, what is in store for me now?
I think it is possible, likely even, that one of these new visitors will be a powerful publishing titan. Mr. Titan will undoubtedly recognize my flair for the dramatically mundane and sign me to a heavyweight book deal. There’s nothing left to do now but pull in that sweet, sweet JR Rowling money.
Flush with cash I will rush out to buy myself a fancy G6 luxury plane, because - after-all - I deserve it.
Logically, my next move will be to jump straight into piloting that bad boy. Buoyed by my new-found self confidence I am sure to be at the helm for multiple circumnavigations of the globe at supersonic speeds, spreading joy (among other things) everywhere I go.
Tragically, during a particularly important humanitarian mission, I will miscalculate my azimuth (or some-such thing) and crash into the side of Mount Ararat.
The crash will trigger an avalanche that decimates several of the area’s villages. As if that’s not bad enough, bands of the once reclusive Yetis are disturbed by the avalance causing them to maraud, nightly, through the alpine countryside.
It’s ok folks, don’t panic, my international health foundation will take care of it.
Lives will be saved from the donation, and effective distribution, of free sweaters (we have them stockpiled for just such an occasion). The locals are predictably grateful but also can’t help but mention how their homes, schools and businesses are still destroyed and the sweaters are “itchy”.
Unfortunately, just like Ashton in the movie (spoiler alert – oops too late),
I don’t make it. The planet shall mourn the loss of a great writer, humanitarian and terrible pilot. In the wake of this overwhelming tragedy a silver lining is found.
The avalanche has uncovered Noah’s Ark. Millions of Christians and Jews the world-over will rejoice at the discovery. I shall be posthumously lauded as a revolutionary figure of biblical proportions.
Plus, hey guys, Yetis.
All of this would make a great book.
Too bad I’m dead.
Damn sweater.
The butterfly itself is really just a poetic substitution, a symbol for any number of possible catalysts. Nearly anything can cause a ripple - a bird, a plane….a sweater.
From looking at a graph of monthly visitors you can see that my blog chugged right along, being perused by a handful of regular readers and occasionally an internet passerby or two.
Then The Most Interesting Sweater In The World was introduced.
Visits swelled, bandwidth strained to keep pace. All this new traffic must have some consequence, some…..effect. I wonder, what is in store for me now?
I think it is possible, likely even, that one of these new visitors will be a powerful publishing titan. Mr. Titan will undoubtedly recognize my flair for the dramatically mundane and sign me to a heavyweight book deal. There’s nothing left to do now but pull in that sweet, sweet JR Rowling money.
Flush with cash I will rush out to buy myself a fancy G6 luxury plane, because - after-all - I deserve it.
Logically, my next move will be to jump straight into piloting that bad boy. Buoyed by my new-found self confidence I am sure to be at the helm for multiple circumnavigations of the globe at supersonic speeds, spreading joy (among other things) everywhere I go.
Tragically, during a particularly important humanitarian mission, I will miscalculate my azimuth (or some-such thing) and crash into the side of Mount Ararat.
The crash will trigger an avalanche that decimates several of the area’s villages. As if that’s not bad enough, bands of the once reclusive Yetis are disturbed by the avalance causing them to maraud, nightly, through the alpine countryside.
It’s ok folks, don’t panic, my international health foundation will take care of it.
Lives will be saved from the donation, and effective distribution, of free sweaters (we have them stockpiled for just such an occasion). The locals are predictably grateful but also can’t help but mention how their homes, schools and businesses are still destroyed and the sweaters are “itchy”.
Unfortunately, just like Ashton in the movie (spoiler alert – oops too late),
I don’t make it. The planet shall mourn the loss of a great writer, humanitarian and terrible pilot. In the wake of this overwhelming tragedy a silver lining is found.
The avalanche has uncovered Noah’s Ark. Millions of Christians and Jews the world-over will rejoice at the discovery. I shall be posthumously lauded as a revolutionary figure of biblical proportions.
Plus, hey guys, Yetis.
All of this would make a great book.
Too bad I’m dead.
Damn sweater.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Diamonds...
Diamonds should not be brown.
Calling them "chocolate" changes nothing.
That is all (for now).
Calling them "chocolate" changes nothing.
That is all (for now).
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
It is – The Most Interesting Sweater in the World.
It’s the sweater other sweaters look up to.
Heathcliff Huxtable could eat Jello puddin' all day wearin' this sweater.
The Dos Equis guy has two of them.
It is…The Most Interesting Sweater in the World.
A few months back I made a mundane little post about coming up with wearing ugly Christmas sweaters to the Spooky Woods ride. To illustrate my point I went to the all knowing Google Images and grabbed one of the ugliest sweaters that I could find. This one:
As it turns out, if you blog about “ugly Christmas sweaters” - and include an example photo - the Internet will find you. For awhile if you Googled "Christmas sweater" or "ugly sweater" images my blog was one of the first hits. I have this web tracker thingy that records hits and tells you things like country of origin etc. I don't check it often, so one day I was astounded when my trickle of traffic turned into a bonafide flow of visitors. Everyone wanted to see what this sweater was all about.
Its an international sensation, one day The Sweater was big in Iceland. I'm kinda a big deal in Iceland.
Over the past few months I’ve recorded more blog hits because of this stupid sweater than I have from all my witty banter combined. I know, I know it’s The Most Interesting Sweater in the World but c’mon man! That’s some BS right there.
I feel used.
You know the sad part? It’s not even my sweater, just some random sweater and my Spooky sweater was a way, way better sweater (check me, spittin’ rhymes like TuPac). Here's the real deal:
Anywho.
If Chuck Norris were a sweater, he would be this sweater (represented here by Chuck Norris Cat)
Heathcliff Huxtable could eat Jello puddin' all day wearin' this sweater.
The Dos Equis guy has two of them.
It is…The Most Interesting Sweater in the World.
A few months back I made a mundane little post about coming up with wearing ugly Christmas sweaters to the Spooky Woods ride. To illustrate my point I went to the all knowing Google Images and grabbed one of the ugliest sweaters that I could find. This one:
As it turns out, if you blog about “ugly Christmas sweaters” - and include an example photo - the Internet will find you. For awhile if you Googled "Christmas sweater" or "ugly sweater" images my blog was one of the first hits. I have this web tracker thingy that records hits and tells you things like country of origin etc. I don't check it often, so one day I was astounded when my trickle of traffic turned into a bonafide flow of visitors. Everyone wanted to see what this sweater was all about.
Its an international sensation, one day The Sweater was big in Iceland. I'm kinda a big deal in Iceland.
Over the past few months I’ve recorded more blog hits because of this stupid sweater than I have from all my witty banter combined. I know, I know it’s The Most Interesting Sweater in the World but c’mon man! That’s some BS right there.
I feel used.
You know the sad part? It’s not even my sweater, just some random sweater and my Spooky sweater was a way, way better sweater (check me, spittin’ rhymes like TuPac). Here's the real deal:
Anywho.
If Chuck Norris were a sweater, he would be this sweater (represented here by Chuck Norris Cat)
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Stranded on Venus
If men are from Mars and wimmen from Venus, I am an astronaut who has crash landed and is surrounded.
My house = Wife + 2 daughters + (usually) some # of daughter’s BFF’s.
It looks like this:
My workplace = Me + approximately one million wimmens
It looks like this:
Even on the Des Moines Register Lifestyle Blogger page, its all chicks and one dude (me). These lovely ladies bake, sew, shop and do crafty things. I talk about bike crashes and squirrel eating owls.
It looks like this:
I guess I’m a little sensitive right now (ironic) because a long time guy friend and co-worker recently took another job. He was basically the only other guy in the office. We were two dudes afloat in the Estrogen Ocean of the health and human services field. He just up and left, and it was clearly a violation of the Bro Code.
Some of the more sympathetic ladies at work offered to “talk football” and “other guy stuff” with me.
"Awesome, so what did you think of Texas trying to defend Iowa State’s zone read running game with 4-2-5 as their base defense?"
(….silence….)
“Well….I like those football pants.”
“Yeah, good talkin’to ya. Thanks.”
While we’re at it gals, here’s a couple others keys to my personal version of guy talk:
1.Any clothes I am wearing today (or will ever wear) do NOT constitute an “outfit”. I think I wore an outfit once….when I was in 1st grade.
2. My car nor my bike(s) nor any other thing I own is “cute”. At least I hope not. If I knew it was "cute" I wouldn't have bought it.
3.I have way fewer colors than y’all. No magenta or mauve, its just your basics with an option for an “ish” or “y” modifier if absolutely necessary ie bluish or yellowy. Additions of "light" and "dark" are acceptable, as are basic combinations such as blue-green.
4.A social gathering where you pressure your friends and/or acquaintances into buying candles or jewelry or kitchenware or make-up isn’t a “party”. It just isn’t. Call it something else.
5.A coupon? A cou-pon. Are you joking? That ain’t happening. Ever.
6.I’m probably not listening anyway.
“Brian to Mars Base, Come in Mars Base! I’ve crash landed and am stranded on Venus. So far the natives are friendly, but we both know that can change in an instant. I need evacuation.”
“Please hurry, I overheard them talking about remodeling kitchens and I think I saw someone with color swatches.”
“Yes! Swatches man! This ain’t no game! All those freakin’ ishy colors with stupid names, hundreds of them.”
“They’re gonna make me look at everyone of them! They’re gonna want an opinion, man! They ain’t settling for saying ‘I don’t care’ or 'they're all nice' this time.”
“Do you read?! I said they’ve got swatches man!”
“Hurry!”
My house = Wife + 2 daughters + (usually) some # of daughter’s BFF’s.
It looks like this:
My workplace = Me + approximately one million wimmens
It looks like this:
Even on the Des Moines Register Lifestyle Blogger page, its all chicks and one dude (me). These lovely ladies bake, sew, shop and do crafty things. I talk about bike crashes and squirrel eating owls.
It looks like this:
I guess I’m a little sensitive right now (ironic) because a long time guy friend and co-worker recently took another job. He was basically the only other guy in the office. We were two dudes afloat in the Estrogen Ocean of the health and human services field. He just up and left, and it was clearly a violation of the Bro Code.
Some of the more sympathetic ladies at work offered to “talk football” and “other guy stuff” with me.
"Awesome, so what did you think of Texas trying to defend Iowa State’s zone read running game with 4-2-5 as their base defense?"
(….silence….)
“Well….I like those football pants.”
“Yeah, good talkin’to ya. Thanks.”
While we’re at it gals, here’s a couple others keys to my personal version of guy talk:
1.Any clothes I am wearing today (or will ever wear) do NOT constitute an “outfit”. I think I wore an outfit once….when I was in 1st grade.
2. My car nor my bike(s) nor any other thing I own is “cute”. At least I hope not. If I knew it was "cute" I wouldn't have bought it.
3.I have way fewer colors than y’all. No magenta or mauve, its just your basics with an option for an “ish” or “y” modifier if absolutely necessary ie bluish or yellowy. Additions of "light" and "dark" are acceptable, as are basic combinations such as blue-green.
4.A social gathering where you pressure your friends and/or acquaintances into buying candles or jewelry or kitchenware or make-up isn’t a “party”. It just isn’t. Call it something else.
5.A coupon? A cou-pon. Are you joking? That ain’t happening. Ever.
6.I’m probably not listening anyway.
“Brian to Mars Base, Come in Mars Base! I’ve crash landed and am stranded on Venus. So far the natives are friendly, but we both know that can change in an instant. I need evacuation.”
“Please hurry, I overheard them talking about remodeling kitchens and I think I saw someone with color swatches.”
“Yes! Swatches man! This ain’t no game! All those freakin’ ishy colors with stupid names, hundreds of them.”
“They’re gonna make me look at everyone of them! They’re gonna want an opinion, man! They ain’t settling for saying ‘I don’t care’ or 'they're all nice' this time.”
“Do you read?! I said they’ve got swatches man!”
“Hurry!”
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Bike Meets Tree: A (no) Love Story
One day, under most unexpected circumstances, Bike met Tree. Their attraction was undeniable. Sadly, just like these star-crossed couples before them -
Romeo and Juliet,
Lancelot and Guinevere,
Bert and Ernie (c’mon now, you know it)
- their relationship was not meant to be. Bike’s parents forbid him to see Tree. Tree’s friends thought Bike wasn’t good enough for her. Joanie Loves Chachi it certainly wasn’t.
Why couldn’t they make it work?!
Whyyyyyy?!
Well, because Bike and Tree come from such drastically different worlds. Bike is cold steel, rubber, spokes and all manner of whirring, blingy bits. Tree is solid, warm wood, an earthy, country type. Bike is unpredictable, prone to flights of fancy, destined to roll on from place to place; Tree is dependable, stern and stationary, content to silently keep vigil over the timber.
Their budding relationship ended abruptly and violently, just as it began, with a kiss that left Bike broken and Tree forever scarred….
So….anyways….you know that new jump at the Center?
The one with the rutted out landing patch?
Yeah, the one you’d better get your front tire up for on the landing….
Well… on last week’s Taco ride I hit the jump too slow, I didn’t get the front tire up enough and landed with the front tire in the rut. Bike bucked forward, this might have been manageable except I came unclipped from both peddles at the same time. Now I’m shuffling down the trail, in comical fast-forward, with my front wheel almost directly underneath me. Bike had essentially turned himself into a bucking bronco of a unicycle. That Bike, he can be a real @#$% sometimes. At least this circus clown spectacle was ended quickly by introducing Bike to nearby Tree. Bike kissed Tree with his handlebar, but she firmly rejected his advances.
As for me, I did a wonderful matador OLE’! move and spun out of the way with only the very upper part of my thigh contacting Tree. I am happy to say that, while the upper thigh sustained some minor damage, my downtown district was completely unscathed.
This was very good news for the residents of downtown as they are rather sensitive to being smashed with a tree.
Being pleased with my survival, I dusted myself off, hoped back on Bike and peddled off to finish the rest of the Squirrel’s Nest trail. About halfway through Nest I noticed my front brake had been spun down and behind the bar. That was an easy, twist it back into place, fix and we were off again. Next up was the Rhythm trail; we rounded the corner and started into the rough stuff when my left grip snapped off in my hand.
Carbon fiber doesn’t dent like aluminum or steel, it cracks and snaps, often times with no warning. This was one of those times. Truth is I got really lucky that it snapped when it did instead of any number of places I had just ridden, including a teeter totter stunt (don’t tell my wife).
Being damn-near Grizzly Adams, I did what any mountain man would do and (with the help of Bart and Nick) fashioned a stick splint for my handlebar.
Our Jeremiah Johnson handy work was good enough to get me back to the shop and to the local watering hole for many well-earned barley sodas.
Bike, my advice to you is forget Tree. She’s no good for you man.
Romeo and Juliet,
Lancelot and Guinevere,
Bert and Ernie (c’mon now, you know it)
- their relationship was not meant to be. Bike’s parents forbid him to see Tree. Tree’s friends thought Bike wasn’t good enough for her. Joanie Loves Chachi it certainly wasn’t.
Why couldn’t they make it work?!
Whyyyyyy?!
Well, because Bike and Tree come from such drastically different worlds. Bike is cold steel, rubber, spokes and all manner of whirring, blingy bits. Tree is solid, warm wood, an earthy, country type. Bike is unpredictable, prone to flights of fancy, destined to roll on from place to place; Tree is dependable, stern and stationary, content to silently keep vigil over the timber.
Their budding relationship ended abruptly and violently, just as it began, with a kiss that left Bike broken and Tree forever scarred….
So….anyways….you know that new jump at the Center?
The one with the rutted out landing patch?
Yeah, the one you’d better get your front tire up for on the landing….
Well… on last week’s Taco ride I hit the jump too slow, I didn’t get the front tire up enough and landed with the front tire in the rut. Bike bucked forward, this might have been manageable except I came unclipped from both peddles at the same time. Now I’m shuffling down the trail, in comical fast-forward, with my front wheel almost directly underneath me. Bike had essentially turned himself into a bucking bronco of a unicycle. That Bike, he can be a real @#$% sometimes. At least this circus clown spectacle was ended quickly by introducing Bike to nearby Tree. Bike kissed Tree with his handlebar, but she firmly rejected his advances.
As for me, I did a wonderful matador OLE’! move and spun out of the way with only the very upper part of my thigh contacting Tree. I am happy to say that, while the upper thigh sustained some minor damage, my downtown district was completely unscathed.
This was very good news for the residents of downtown as they are rather sensitive to being smashed with a tree.
Being pleased with my survival, I dusted myself off, hoped back on Bike and peddled off to finish the rest of the Squirrel’s Nest trail. About halfway through Nest I noticed my front brake had been spun down and behind the bar. That was an easy, twist it back into place, fix and we were off again. Next up was the Rhythm trail; we rounded the corner and started into the rough stuff when my left grip snapped off in my hand.
Carbon fiber doesn’t dent like aluminum or steel, it cracks and snaps, often times with no warning. This was one of those times. Truth is I got really lucky that it snapped when it did instead of any number of places I had just ridden, including a teeter totter stunt (don’t tell my wife).
Being damn-near Grizzly Adams, I did what any mountain man would do and (with the help of Bart and Nick) fashioned a stick splint for my handlebar.
Our Jeremiah Johnson handy work was good enough to get me back to the shop and to the local watering hole for many well-earned barley sodas.
Bike, my advice to you is forget Tree. She’s no good for you man.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Buy My Bike Stuff: It Will Make You Manlier
Everyone knows mountain biking is manly. You get dirty, stinky....hurt. You drink beer, leer and cuss at stuff.
Don't get your aprons all in an uproar, Ladies. You can be "manly" too, heck the last part of the word "woman" is MAN isn't it? In fact, I have mucho respectamundo for mountain bike ladies and badass chicks in general (just ask my wife).
So, if mountain biking is manly, it logically follows that biking in the ice and snow is manlier by a factor of about 50. Just think about how quickly those bonus points will fill up your man (or woMAN) card.
First up is a brand new set of Continental Nordic Spike cyclocross/touring tires. These have 240 studs of owl-talon gripping power. The icy trail will whimper beneath your tread. Perfect for commuting. They sell for around $85-90 bucks a piece before taxes or/shipping. $140 takes 'em
Second up is a lightly used set of 26 inch Nokian Extreme mountain bike tires. The 294 carbide studs will allow you to hunt seals, with a crossbow, on a glacier. They only have 5-6 rides on them, well under 40 total miles. They sell new for around $90 each, but are hard to find due to their extremeness. $125 takes 'em.
Either set of these tires will come in handy when marauding bands of cannibals rule the post apocalyptic American landscape starting in 2012.
Last up is a White Brothers Rock Solid 29er rigid fork. Some of you might think this isn't so manly because its light, blingy carbon fiber, a favorite material of leg-shaving roadies. Allow me to assure you, this fork is quite manly. First off, its rigid and not some softy, plushy suspension fork. Second, its beefy. It has a star nut and crown race installed. If you don't know what that means, then this fork is not for you. The steer tube is cut to 7.5 inches. Its nearly mint with only some minor scuffs. It probably has somewhere around 100 miles on it. They go for around $275 new, save big and get this one for $175.
Conan the Barbarian would love riding these tires and/or fork over the skulls of his fallen foes. Han Solo would jump to hyperspace to grab these hot deals. Hugh Heffner would throw a special theme party, in the grotto, to celebrate his purchase of these fine parts.
Its all true; and its all very manly.
Don't get your aprons all in an uproar, Ladies. You can be "manly" too, heck the last part of the word "woman" is MAN isn't it? In fact, I have mucho respectamundo for mountain bike ladies and badass chicks in general (just ask my wife).
So, if mountain biking is manly, it logically follows that biking in the ice and snow is manlier by a factor of about 50. Just think about how quickly those bonus points will fill up your man (or woMAN) card.
First up is a brand new set of Continental Nordic Spike cyclocross/touring tires. These have 240 studs of owl-talon gripping power. The icy trail will whimper beneath your tread. Perfect for commuting. They sell for around $85-90 bucks a piece before taxes or/shipping. $140 takes 'em
Second up is a lightly used set of 26 inch Nokian Extreme mountain bike tires. The 294 carbide studs will allow you to hunt seals, with a crossbow, on a glacier. They only have 5-6 rides on them, well under 40 total miles. They sell new for around $90 each, but are hard to find due to their extremeness. $125 takes 'em.
Either set of these tires will come in handy when marauding bands of cannibals rule the post apocalyptic American landscape starting in 2012.
Last up is a White Brothers Rock Solid 29er rigid fork. Some of you might think this isn't so manly because its light, blingy carbon fiber, a favorite material of leg-shaving roadies. Allow me to assure you, this fork is quite manly. First off, its rigid and not some softy, plushy suspension fork. Second, its beefy. It has a star nut and crown race installed. If you don't know what that means, then this fork is not for you. The steer tube is cut to 7.5 inches. Its nearly mint with only some minor scuffs. It probably has somewhere around 100 miles on it. They go for around $275 new, save big and get this one for $175.
Conan the Barbarian would love riding these tires and/or fork over the skulls of his fallen foes. Han Solo would jump to hyperspace to grab these hot deals. Hugh Heffner would throw a special theme party, in the grotto, to celebrate his purchase of these fine parts.
Its all true; and its all very manly.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Spooky Woods: The Night of a Thousand Stories
Rob Zombie can have his House of 1,000 Corpses...
Spooky Woods Ride is a night of 1,000 stories
There were some wins (of unknown origins)
A few wins have to be classified as inevitable. For example, Elaine won the costume contest, even though there wasn't exactly a costume contest to win.
The mini bike races were an epic tale all on their own.
Cruella Deville is as good at mini bike racing as she is at snuffing out puppies
she could've given Bart a few tips
Teri's tale is a tail..and its on backwards....or is it?
The sweater brigade was small but dedicated and highly effective (Brother-in-Arms, Rick not pictured here).
Here's Rick. You don't get the full sweater majesty from this pic, but trust me, it was a sweater vest. As you probably already know, the vest part increases the sweater's awesomeness by a factor of ten.
Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.....you can't take him anywhere.
Here begins Bart's final chapter. Sadly his pals have already rode off into the night without him. He is chanting the mantra of "red rims, red rims". This is not to be confused with "red rum" from The Shining. Instead he is referring to his fancy-schamancy red rims on his mountain bike. He seemed confident that their redness would help him navigate the dark woods. Perhaps they were infra-red (har, har)
Big thanks to Mary for most of these pics and huge props to Squirrel and Jordan for all the work they put in getting the party set up.
I'm already looking forward to next year and another 1,000 stories.
Spooky Woods Ride is a night of 1,000 stories
There were some wins (of unknown origins)
A few wins have to be classified as inevitable. For example, Elaine won the costume contest, even though there wasn't exactly a costume contest to win.
The mini bike races were an epic tale all on their own.
Cruella Deville is as good at mini bike racing as she is at snuffing out puppies
she could've given Bart a few tips
Teri's tale is a tail..and its on backwards....or is it?
The sweater brigade was small but dedicated and highly effective (Brother-in-Arms, Rick not pictured here).
Here's Rick. You don't get the full sweater majesty from this pic, but trust me, it was a sweater vest. As you probably already know, the vest part increases the sweater's awesomeness by a factor of ten.
Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.....you can't take him anywhere.
Here begins Bart's final chapter. Sadly his pals have already rode off into the night without him. He is chanting the mantra of "red rims, red rims". This is not to be confused with "red rum" from The Shining. Instead he is referring to his fancy-schamancy red rims on his mountain bike. He seemed confident that their redness would help him navigate the dark woods. Perhaps they were infra-red (har, har)
Big thanks to Mary for most of these pics and huge props to Squirrel and Jordan for all the work they put in getting the party set up.
I'm already looking forward to next year and another 1,000 stories.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Where's my Bejesus?
So many things to be scared of, so little time......ah, uhm, so little time....time, no time, we're running out of time....I knew it, we're all gunna die!!!!!
Ok, sorry. Composure returning in T minus 3, 2, 1...
So many things
There's:
Terrorists
Ghosts
Certain side effects of Levitra that last more than 4 hours
Aliens
Gingivitis
Zombies
Horses (one day they will collectively decide - no more rides, we revolt!)
Mice
Nuns
Priests (especially Priests)
Robots
Last Call (you don't haveta go home, but you can't stay here)
Darkness
Nukes
Peanuts
Mold
Cereal Killers (why do they hate sugary puffs so much?)
Toyotas
Progressives
Carbs
Super Volcanoes
Gangstas
Dentists (especially the 5th one....4 outta 5 agree, what's with that 5th one?)
Asteroids
Sharks (they've already got a week, what's next?)
Fear itself
Pollen
Tardive Dyskinesia (think Ozzy)
Wives
2012
Klondike Bars (what would you do for one? What?!)
Solar Radiation
Hillbillies (ask Ned Beatty)
Y2K (errrrr, nevermind)
Microbes
Bears
Glen Beck (tear, sniff, sniff, buy gold)
Mummies
Cooked fruit
Light Beer
Bone loss
Dirty bombs
Clean bombs
Keepin' it real
Cellphones
Razor blades (particularly the intrafruit variety)
Mines
Taliban Monkeys
Fibromyalgia
Tornadoes (especially flaming ones)
Cavity Searches
Bob Seger (run for your lives, we're overrun by cheezy tavern rock!)
Dolls
Obama
Shrinkage
Spiders (oh, frickin spiders)
Nazis
Sudden Cheerleader Shortage
Heights
Pluto (first you're a planet, then you're not...what are you hiding Pluto?!)
Snookie
Kettlebells
Micheal Myers (the Halloween one, not the Austin Powers one)
Earthquakes
Granny Panties
Tobacco
Pandemics of any kind
Snipers
Mentos + soda
Adult onset anything
Owls
Snakes
Fire (especially spontaneous combustion)
Water
and the worst of all......clowns
Pennywise, Insane Clown Posse, John Wayne Gacy
I think that's everything....but I could be forgetting something......oh crap!
Alzhiemers.
Ok, sorry. Composure returning in T minus 3, 2, 1...
So many things
There's:
Terrorists
Ghosts
Certain side effects of Levitra that last more than 4 hours
Aliens
Gingivitis
Zombies
Horses (one day they will collectively decide - no more rides, we revolt!)
Mice
Nuns
Priests (especially Priests)
Robots
Last Call (you don't haveta go home, but you can't stay here)
Darkness
Nukes
Peanuts
Mold
Cereal Killers (why do they hate sugary puffs so much?)
Toyotas
Progressives
Carbs
Super Volcanoes
Gangstas
Dentists (especially the 5th one....4 outta 5 agree, what's with that 5th one?)
Asteroids
Sharks (they've already got a week, what's next?)
Fear itself
Pollen
Tardive Dyskinesia (think Ozzy)
Wives
2012
Klondike Bars (what would you do for one? What?!)
Solar Radiation
Hillbillies (ask Ned Beatty)
Y2K (errrrr, nevermind)
Microbes
Bears
Glen Beck (tear, sniff, sniff, buy gold)
Mummies
Cooked fruit
Light Beer
Bone loss
Dirty bombs
Clean bombs
Keepin' it real
Cellphones
Razor blades (particularly the intrafruit variety)
Mines
Taliban Monkeys
Fibromyalgia
Tornadoes (especially flaming ones)
Cavity Searches
Bob Seger (run for your lives, we're overrun by cheezy tavern rock!)
Dolls
Obama
Shrinkage
Spiders (oh, frickin spiders)
Nazis
Sudden Cheerleader Shortage
Heights
Pluto (first you're a planet, then you're not...what are you hiding Pluto?!)
Snookie
Kettlebells
Micheal Myers (the Halloween one, not the Austin Powers one)
Earthquakes
Granny Panties
Tobacco
Pandemics of any kind
Snipers
Mentos + soda
Adult onset anything
Owls
Snakes
Fire (especially spontaneous combustion)
Water
and the worst of all......clowns
Pennywise, Insane Clown Posse, John Wayne Gacy
I think that's everything....but I could be forgetting something......oh crap!
Alzhiemers.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Here's to You, Touchdown Guy
We interrupt our regular bike-centric programming for this...
I don't know who this guy is, but I can tell that I like him.
He is basking in the glow of the Cyclones beating the Longhorns in Austin.
He is living life, man.
I'm calling him Touchdown Guy.
Think about that scene for a minute.....100k stunned Texas fans and you.
Awesome.
As for the other obvious Clones in the picture; the lady in the hat is at least trying to be a little inconspicuous, leaning back and clapping low under an impressive hat. The guy next to her is smirking and trying to not be obvious about photographically documenting this joyous event. Not Touchdown Guy, he's throwing up the double-armed TD paired with a heart-felt "Woohooo!"
Yep, I like 'em. How could you not?
This picture, and a bunch of other great ones, can be found at The Des Moines Register
Hats off to you, Touchdown Guy, and to all Cyclones - everywhere.
I don't know who this guy is, but I can tell that I like him.
He is basking in the glow of the Cyclones beating the Longhorns in Austin.
He is living life, man.
I'm calling him Touchdown Guy.
Think about that scene for a minute.....100k stunned Texas fans and you.
Awesome.
As for the other obvious Clones in the picture; the lady in the hat is at least trying to be a little inconspicuous, leaning back and clapping low under an impressive hat. The guy next to her is smirking and trying to not be obvious about photographically documenting this joyous event. Not Touchdown Guy, he's throwing up the double-armed TD paired with a heart-felt "Woohooo!"
Yep, I like 'em. How could you not?
This picture, and a bunch of other great ones, can be found at The Des Moines Register
Hats off to you, Touchdown Guy, and to all Cyclones - everywhere.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Taco Ride, Brought to You by Animal Planet
It was a good Taco Ride last week with as many as 20 riders out to enjoy the dirt. As per the usual routine we sort of naturally split into a continnum of groups such as Fast, Kinda Fast, Sometimes Fast-Like, Medium and Whatever speed for the ride.
So I'm riding along somewhere along in the Medium to Whatever range and my mind wanders...its so good to have the Denmans Woods trail back. We lost it to floods in early June and only recently has it returned to its former glory. I'm happily twisting and turving (its a new word I'm working on) through the colorful leaves; it is so relaxing and.......BOOM! big hawk swoops in front of me. He's flying low, right along the trail. As he banks a turn and flies overhead I see that its not a big hawk, its an big owl.....and he's got a brown brushy tail.....wait, big owls don't have tails......he's got a squirrel.
By now I am slowing to stop. I turn and say to Nick, "that owl has" -- "AWESOME" he says.
Ok, you've seen it.
Meantime Mr. Owl lands in the tree right above us. As we slow the riders coming up from behind and fumble for our cameras Mr. O just looks down like he's saying in a thick New Yorker accent "Yeah, so I got a squirrel. So what?! You gotta problem wit dat?"
I get my phone out, gloves off, line up the shot.....decide I want to zoom it, get the zoom set, aim aaaaand the owl flies off. Grrrrrrr. At least Nick got a shot.
BAM! predation; Animal Planet; awesome. The last time I saw Animal Planet like this was when a Hummingbird attacked my garage!
You can't really see it in the picture, but he's got a pretty big squirrel under him. He must be holding on to it with one talon while holding on the branch with the other. Man, I wish I had talons, they are just so useful.
Later when we caught up with our riding buddy nicknamed Squirrel (he rides in the Fast group) we told him about the owl and the demise of his fuzzy brethern. Now, I don't want to say he was nervous, but he did ride off shortly after that.....and he was going pretty fast....
I guess I don't blame him.
How many licks does it take to get to the center of a big brown squirrel? One, a-two, three - CRUNCH! - three.
So I'm riding along somewhere along in the Medium to Whatever range and my mind wanders...its so good to have the Denmans Woods trail back. We lost it to floods in early June and only recently has it returned to its former glory. I'm happily twisting and turving (its a new word I'm working on) through the colorful leaves; it is so relaxing and.......BOOM! big hawk swoops in front of me. He's flying low, right along the trail. As he banks a turn and flies overhead I see that its not a big hawk, its an big owl.....and he's got a brown brushy tail.....wait, big owls don't have tails......he's got a squirrel.
By now I am slowing to stop. I turn and say to Nick, "that owl has" -- "AWESOME" he says.
Ok, you've seen it.
Meantime Mr. Owl lands in the tree right above us. As we slow the riders coming up from behind and fumble for our cameras Mr. O just looks down like he's saying in a thick New Yorker accent "Yeah, so I got a squirrel. So what?! You gotta problem wit dat?"
I get my phone out, gloves off, line up the shot.....decide I want to zoom it, get the zoom set, aim aaaaand the owl flies off. Grrrrrrr. At least Nick got a shot.
BAM! predation; Animal Planet; awesome. The last time I saw Animal Planet like this was when a Hummingbird attacked my garage!
You can't really see it in the picture, but he's got a pretty big squirrel under him. He must be holding on to it with one talon while holding on the branch with the other. Man, I wish I had talons, they are just so useful.
Later when we caught up with our riding buddy nicknamed Squirrel (he rides in the Fast group) we told him about the owl and the demise of his fuzzy brethern. Now, I don't want to say he was nervous, but he did ride off shortly after that.....and he was going pretty fast....
I guess I don't blame him.
How many licks does it take to get to the center of a big brown squirrel? One, a-two, three - CRUNCH! - three.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Ugly Sweater is Coming to Town
One of my long time readers left a disparaging comment on the previous Spooky Woods + Christmas sweaters post which calls into question my knowledge of fashionable fabrics, specifically poly-nylon-poly blends.
Hells yeah.
Although the commenter was anonymous, I would like to take this opportunity to say directly to her (yes, her) and to anyone else out there who doubts my fashion sense: Could I pull off the purchase of this beauty without at least a working knowledge of synthetics and all the wonderful ways they can be blended?
As you can see, this gem is a cardigan (oh yeah, knowin' my sweater types too) and its got everything you could ever want: trees, a hat and scarf wearing bear, nutcracker, a freakin' rocking horse. The best part is this is a real sweater and not one that has been modified for increased ugliness. Original ugly, I like that.
Its even got Santa's sleigh on the back.
Hells yeah.
You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry...Ugly Sweater is coming to town.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Reporting for Spooky Woods Duty: The Christmas Sweater Brigade
The Spooky Woods ride is undoubtedly one of the highlights of the local social miscreant freestyle cycling scene. Last year it was admittedly modest due to mud. Despite the meager beginnings my night ended in true spooky fashion, with a karaoke singing midget stripper from Hollywood.
Anyways, this year - as it was in 2008 - Spooky Woods shall be epic. It will again be in Denmans Woods and the jack'o'logs will be roaring.....but there is a story within a story here my friends.....
......Yes, there's a growing tide, a rolling thunder, an ever increasing, all consuming revolution.........the Sweater Brigade is coming to the 2010 Spooky.....
You see, one of the great things about Spooky is the costumes, but one of the painful things about Spooky is the actual coming up with a costume - (one you can ride in, that isn't too hot or cold and is funny or at least ironic)....
Fast forward to Tuesday; Nick, Corey and I are riding at Sugar Bottom and we are having a blast. We decide to pause for the obligatory group photo.
While setting up the shot someone commented that it would probably end up looking like a cheesy Christmas card. We theorized giant snowmen and/or Christmas tree sweaters would make it even better. It was a short leap from there to sweaters as Spooky costumes and DAS REVOLUTION! was born.
So, join us if you dare. Don your merry, puffy ornaments in all the season's festive colours. Deck yourself in the latest sleigh fashion and come on down. Please understand that The Brigade doesn't discriminate on the basis of holiday. Wear your pumpkin sweaters with pride! Rock a giant flag, and be a proud patriot. Just gird yourself in the finest cotton,wool, poly-nylon-poly blend you can find and head on out to Spooky on the 30th.
Do it.
Anyways, this year - as it was in 2008 - Spooky Woods shall be epic. It will again be in Denmans Woods and the jack'o'logs will be roaring.....but there is a story within a story here my friends.....
......Yes, there's a growing tide, a rolling thunder, an ever increasing, all consuming revolution.........the Sweater Brigade is coming to the 2010 Spooky.....
You see, one of the great things about Spooky is the costumes, but one of the painful things about Spooky is the actual coming up with a costume - (one you can ride in, that isn't too hot or cold and is funny or at least ironic)....
Fast forward to Tuesday; Nick, Corey and I are riding at Sugar Bottom and we are having a blast. We decide to pause for the obligatory group photo.
While setting up the shot someone commented that it would probably end up looking like a cheesy Christmas card. We theorized giant snowmen and/or Christmas tree sweaters would make it even better. It was a short leap from there to sweaters as Spooky costumes and DAS REVOLUTION! was born.
So, join us if you dare. Don your merry, puffy ornaments in all the season's festive colours. Deck yourself in the latest sleigh fashion and come on down. Please understand that The Brigade doesn't discriminate on the basis of holiday. Wear your pumpkin sweaters with pride! Rock a giant flag, and be a proud patriot. Just gird yourself in the finest cotton,wool, poly-nylon-poly blend you can find and head on out to Spooky on the 30th.
Do it.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Jerry Goes Hollywood
Some of my long term readers (4) will remember Jerry, the farting gnome, I purchased from ebay last year in preparation for Gnome Fest 6.
Jerry was a big hit, especially with kids and dogs (somehow he managed to not get "marked" by any of the fidos).
Jerry made the return trek to GF7 this year and, again, all was well. Here he is supervising night time camp set up.
Little did I know he had bigger plans...
The other day I was watching a new comedy on NBC called "Outsourced". Its about a young American manager of a novelty company that relocates to India to run their telephone sales/service center.
Its a comedy about America losing jobs...a comedy....losing jobs....a comedy....jobs....comedy......a com-a-dee....
Anyway, I've almost made it all the way through this......"comedy".......when I spot him.
Boom! There's Jerry yucking it up on the TV..... and I thought he was still in the garage in a camping box.
I'm not sure how to feel about Jerry's "big break"...somehow I thought he could do better than a cameo in a "comedy" chocked full of un-funny racial stereotypes and job loss....a comedy....its a....comedy.
Oh well, at least he didn't totally sell out like his more well-traveled brother.
Jerry was a big hit, especially with kids and dogs (somehow he managed to not get "marked" by any of the fidos).
Jerry made the return trek to GF7 this year and, again, all was well. Here he is supervising night time camp set up.
Little did I know he had bigger plans...
The other day I was watching a new comedy on NBC called "Outsourced". Its about a young American manager of a novelty company that relocates to India to run their telephone sales/service center.
Its a comedy about America losing jobs...a comedy....losing jobs....a comedy....jobs....comedy......a com-a-dee....
Anyway, I've almost made it all the way through this......"comedy".......when I spot him.
Boom! There's Jerry yucking it up on the TV..... and I thought he was still in the garage in a camping box.
I'm not sure how to feel about Jerry's "big break"...somehow I thought he could do better than a cameo in a "comedy" chocked full of un-funny racial stereotypes and job loss....a comedy....its a....comedy.
Oh well, at least he didn't totally sell out like his more well-traveled brother.
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