Posts Tagged → music

Goofing Off, Sort Of

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After a short and sweet foggy ride on Saturday, I took Sunday just to goof off: watch soccer football, play FIFA ’16, and make food while drinking a few dozen pints of coffee, herbal tea, water, and a few other things completely void of, and starving of alcohol. My Monday was spent doing Monday stuff along with cursing, shoveling and blowing snow, and squeezing in a quick thirty minutes on the trainer combined with my loose, slack attempts at strength training. Fun, fun, fun… (not really, not at all).

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In My Ears: Rozwell Kid

It’s been a while since I spewed forth notes from my musical manifesto, but I figured the holiday down time is a good time to waste time with nonsense about my band of the week/what I’m listening to at the moment.

These days–nine times out of ten–I am late to the party compared to modern-day hipsters. However as a forty-four year old living in a small town in the middle of rural Michigan who often leaves the house only to ride his bike, I’m just happy to get to the party at all, even if the trip to said party means wading through a sea of snarky “no one listens to them anymore” comments from people young enough to be my kid and wearing a slouchy ski cap in 75˚ temperatures.

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Void of Light

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This December has been pretty sweet as far as weather. We here in Michigan aren’t exactly getting the warm sixty-ish degree temperatures that some of the east coast states are getting, but for these parts in December, forty degrees and no snow is just as good, and in many ways my rides have felt more like those done in late fall and early spring rather than winter. Having said that, I feel the need to add: THE SUN COULD SHINE ANY F*CKING DAY NOW!!!

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Unchained

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A leaky pipe in the ceiling above the Stankment’s Man Cave (actually belonging to a boy) meant that my ability to leave the house was at the mercy of a plumber, and my Wednesday schedule (or lack there of) needed to be adjusted. Any time spent on two wheels would need to be moved to later in the morning/early afternoon, and mileage would be minimal. It was the perfect day to say I was too busy to ride, but I was not going to pass up the opportunity to ride in near perfect 75˚ temperatures and brilliant sunshine. Not when I know all too well that by this time next month the air will have a distinct chill to it, the winds will start cutting to the bone, and base layers and riding jackets will once again become the norm. A ride HAD to be done, even if it meant it had to be a  mere 25 mile Better Than The Trainer Ride™ on dirt and gravel roads north of town.

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Things I’m High On

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I know the title of this post suggests that this post is going to be about various sorts of glues, gases, pills, herbs and beverages that I may or may not be using to get high. As it is, I am on nothing. Sorry. But since Monday the weather has thrown me a bit of a velo-cock block and forced me to the Stankment and the trainer, so I figured I would waste your time talking about some things that I am digging right now, both on and off the bike.

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Sockets & Blondies

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I know my luck too well, and whenever something happens to me (medically speaking), shit always goes pear-shaped. No worries, I’m used to it. So when my dentist pulled one of my wisdom teeth last week and said “you should feel fine in two or three days… unless you get a dry socket.” I KNEW right there and then that I was destined for a dry socket. Ever see one? Here look [HERE]… ah, I can’t do that to you, sorry.

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Slightly Off

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After what I would consider a good(ish) week of early March riding last week, this week has gotten off on the wrong pedal stroke and has felt slightly off. Monday greeted me with what some might call “a bout of irritable bowel.” I tend to be a bit more colorful and descriptive (at least when talking to Wifey) but I’ll just leave it at that for now and say that I’m not sure what’s up with my guts? OR what’s coming out of them!

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It Doesn’t Make Sense

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Sometimes to stop something from driving you insane, you have to share it with someone. Since the therapist that I never really got around to making an appointment with–even though Wifey, my family, PCP and local law enforcement think I did–is off doing whatever nonexistent therapists do (I assume listening to NPR friendly Spanish guitar music whilst cutting the address boxes off covers of waiting room bound volumes of Architectural Digest), I will just share my thoughts with the Interwebosphere: Stevie Wonder is a prick!! Here’s why…

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Firmness, Blogging & Monkeys

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I am a firm believer in what an old bike blogging sensei once told me in a hazy drunken dream atop a rain-soaked and muddy Pennsylvania mountaintop : “If you can’t think of anything worthwhile to blog about, just post some crap photo you took while your were out riding, no one reads the shit anyway, and if they do–especially in your case–they probably think you’re a complete and utter fucking wanker.”

And so I have. ‘Cause no matter how many miles of the same freaking trails I ride, I find something that I dig and want to make mad, passionate, retinal love to. I have never said that about a road ride. Nothing against road riding, I dig it, and I’ve had  some pretty freaking awesome road rides, but no matter how hard the road tries, it just ain’t as kind on the eyes.

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Vintage Paris-Roubaix & Pornography

1910parisroubaixI may not have done anything on Monday (except make rice and beans and play basketball with B-Man), and I may have only ridden the trainer for an hour today, but I DID find this bad ass photo from the 1910 Paris-Roubaix to share, so I am pretty sure that the Cycling Gods forgive me for my lackluster two-wheeled training regime. Fuck it.

I would have rather sucked the blood from the neck of my neighbor’s ever barking dogs with my bare face after hitting them with two large cinder blocks, than ride the trainer, but I still did.

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