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A Weekend With Grady

By on March 2, 2015 in Random

gwilsonSICKI have no idea why, but for years I have been saying to anyone that will listen (no one) that Grady Wilson from the old 70’s NBC TV show Sanford & Son is what the flu, head cold or similar ailment would look like if it took human form. I say that with not one ounce of disrespect to the late Whitman Mayo who portrayed him, but a fact’s a fact. Or at least an outlandish proclamation is one oddball’s point of view.

I bring all this up for a reason, that reason being that early Friday evening as I sat in the corner of a local junior high gymnasium watching B-Man take part in some winter soccer drills, I knew that Mr. Wilson was about to pay me a visit. In other words, I knew that illness was setting in.

Shit.

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Sicily, Tuna & Pasta

By on February 16, 2015 in Cat 5 Cooking

sicilyGIRO

I briefly mentioned in the opening paragraph of my last blog post that I made baked ziti for Wifey on Saturday to celebrate Valentine’s Day, what I didn’t mention was that while Wifey loved it, I wasn’t thrilled with it. For some reason I love Italian food but anytime I use red sauce I am left wishing I had made something else [also mentioned in the post Crush Pasta IV]. Sadly, my Valentine’s ziti was no different and I found it a sort of just “there.”

Whenever I feel I could have done a better job on a meal, especially something as simple as baked ziti, I try to make up for it as soon as possible. And that’s what I did today, poo-pooing Americanized Italian comfort food and embracing the Mediterranean flavors of Sicily.

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I’m NOT homesick!

By on February 15, 2015 in Random

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I woke up today around 8 a.m. when Wifey came in the bedroom to fetch her eye glasses. I assumed she had been by my side all night, but it turns out she fled the room at some point, claiming that it got “too hot” in the bedroom. Since it was roughly -15˚ outside, I doubt that was true and this was most likely her way of telling me that the baked ziti I made for our Valentine’s Day celebration had taken the form of a vile, warm, humid gaseous cloud of digested red wine, garlic and sausage and had exited my flabby rears way too much though the night and had caused her to seek refuge elsewhere. Much apologies to my ginger haired, bosomy Valentine of what is now 20 years. You deserve better…much, much better. But I’m sure you know that already.

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Good At Faking It

By on February 14, 2015 in Cycling

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The other day I proclaimed the words “I’m hoping to get outside and do something–ANYTHING–in the coming days.” Today I am forced to exclaim “SHITBALLMOTHERBUCK!” Because that just hasn’t happened and I am filled with a seething hate as intense as a thousand, blistering suns.

OK, not really, not at all.

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Winter Shutdown

By on February 9, 2015 in Random

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I am forty-three years old. That means that I’m getting older, as well as saggier, fatter and harrier in all the wrong places. It also means that I have endured forty-three winters. I’m not sure how many wet, slush filled shoes, slips on ice, scraped car windows, shoveled driveways and bouts of uncontrollable cuss-filled shivering that adds up to, but I’m sure it’s a lot.

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My Voice

By on February 6, 2015 in Random

voicepicJimmy

After I write a blog post, in a crap attempt at proof reading to make sure it sounds even a little bit correct, I find myself reading it out loud. I hate doing that because I really hate my voice. If you’ve ever heard any of the XXC Magazine podcasts, you know exactly what I’m talking about. My voice sort of sounds like a pubescent teenage boy (or girl) with a twist of Quentin Tarantino and not one tiny ounce of the talent.

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A Freeze/Thaw Crapfest

By on January 19, 2015 in Random

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The photo above in an overexposed, misfired shot taken a couple of weeks ago while riding at Hanson. I ended up liking the pic for some reason and posted it on my Instagram page, then sort of forgot about it until today when I decided to use it to help sum up my past four days. Sort of the whole best intentions, crap results, take the lemons life gave you, trade them for limes and (literally) make several gin and tonics.

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Excuses

By on January 14, 2015 in Random

pillbox

Over the past twenty-plus years or so I’ve made my way from being an obese 300 pound tub-o’-goo, to a pretty fit 170 pound, unsuccessful amature endurance mountain bike racer, to a 200+ pound, craft beer drinking, white-trash Mexican food eating, not so skinny cyclist just trying to stay in shape. During that time I’ve missed my share of workouts and rides. No big deal, we all miss workouts or rides for one reason or another: work, school, family commitments, illness, or the occasional bout of “fuck it.”

However, given my increasing paunch and ever slowing speed on the bike, along with life’s normal interferences, it’s pretty obvious that I miss more than my fair share of rides due to a lengthening list of crap excuses: it’s raining, it’s too muddy, cold, windy, foggy or hot. I have indigestion, severe manscape irritation, hot Mexican salsa bung, I just did a long ride (last week), I sort of have a headache, etc., etc.,

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