Finding the Positive

You might not know it from the shit I type on this digital fish wrap, but these days I really do try to look on the brighter side of things. I’ve lived so much of my life ashamed, depressed, moody, and bitter that sometimes it’s easier just to be Moody Bitter Guy rather than someone who can legitimately weigh the pros and cons of a situation and then make a rational, sane judgment. In other words, I’m learning how not to be an asshole.

Many things have helped me get to this place of wanting to shed myself of Moody Bitter Guy; my wife and son, cycling, photography, antidepressants, therapy, and moving 500 miles from the birthplace and epicenter of Moody Bitter Guy.

Sure, there are things about myself that I want to improve and things I hope to change, but that’s part of life. You never want to peak to early, right. No one wants to be the good-looking, Camaro driving, all-star athlete that peaks in 12th grade then declines steadily into a fat dude rocking a skullet, a 2 pack a day smoking habit and a mufflerless minivan littered with empty Busch Light cans, cigarette ashes, and seats filled with kids that may or may not be his. So it stands to reason that I don’t want to be known as the dumb fat kid that got skinny, raced his bike (poorly but happily) for a while, had some health issues, left a job, had a magazine for 5 years, got bitter, drank and ate too much and died with people thinking he actually enjoyed being that Moody Bitter Guy. Fuck that.

Having said all that, the past few three or four days have been a tad annoying…


B-Man had a soccer tournament downstate this past weekend, so on Saturday we were up at 6 AM to ready ourselves and drive to an 11:30 AM match. The match was played in unheard of for Michigan 95˚ Fall temps; the sun was blazing, the pitch was a dusty and crispy, and B’s team won easily 6-1. All of that was good except for the fact that I woke up that morning with a stiff muscle/pinched nerve in my neck and I couldn’t turn my head right without looking like I was wearing a neck brace. Sigh.

After 4 to 14 Advil and a hot post-match shower back at the hotel, my neck did loosen up a bit, and that made watching B’s second game later that evening a little better.

Despite the oppressive heat, a lack of teams in B’s division, some jacked up match scheduling, etc, it was a fun tournament. The boys went 3-0 to win it and I got some swell pics of the team over the 3 matches. My neck was stiffer than a creepy Ice Cream Man’s schwantz for most of the weekend, but on Sunday something “popped” and after that, it started feeling looser. I’ll take it!


Monday started with me trying to cancel a sale on eBay. I sold my Nikon D7100 only to see that the buyer had a 0% feedback and appeared to potentially be part of some scam. So I spent an hour Monday morning trying to contact eBay customer service, which if you’ve ever tried to do, you know how incredibly difficult it can be. For future reference just Google the eBay CS telephone number and save yourself 30 minutes of fruitlessly searching their site. After an hour or so I got to talk to someone and end the sale.


Since we were away all weekend we had to board Jake (the dog). I went to pick him up Monday morning and they told me that he had just had explosive diarrhea in his “room,” they cleaned him up, but to watch him and make sure it didn’t get worse. It did.

There was poo, there was vomit, there was more poo, there was me taking Jake back to the vet for meds, there was more poo.  BUT, Jake seems to be getting slowly better. I hope so because I’m running out of paper towel.

By Tuesday Jake’s shit SEEMED to be getting under control and I wanted to get out for a ride because I’m pretty sure I can feel my belly resting on my thighs now.


I headed north of town on the Boone and the D500 in my bag. I was having some shitty shifting but continued on because that’s really nothing new for me.

But then my chain went down into the small ring up front and no amount of shifting would get it back onto the big. I stopped and got it back on the big, only for it to return. It was all very strange and a new developement for sure.

I rode on, deciding to make due with the lower gearing and content with just getting home.

Then there was a clunk coming from the bike, shit. I thought it might be the cassette since I have had shifting issues before that proved to be a loose cassette. Nope, all good.

I continued on only to have the clunk and the shifting get worse. I stopped again. It’s the crank! Shit! It was coming apart and thinking that it really wanted to fall off. At this point I was about 10 miles from home so I continued on, soft-pedaling for about a half mile before plop; my crank arm fell off. As you can tell from the blog’s header, I do tend to strip the cranks off my bike quite often.

I texted Wifey to see what her schedule looked like and to see if she had enough time to leave work and fetch my ass or if I should start the walk home with my thumb out hoping for a friendly, pro-Lycra, farmer to pass on their way into town. Thankfully she had the time for a fetch.

Had I had my multi-tool on me I think I could have done enough to attach the crank and get home, but I didn’t. It seems that for a tool to work you actually have to have it with you.

Oh well, everything worked out. I ended up selling my camera this week to a “real” buyer. Jake is on the mends, and my neck is way better. Yeah, I broke a crank 10 miles from home but was able to get a ride home and I still (knock on wood) haven’t got the illness that Wifey and B-Man had recently. As a bonus for myself, I dealt with all this quite well and feel optimistic that I can enter the winter without carrying the mental baggage that I normally do.

Off to squeeze a ride in.


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