This guy on the Stamps.com commercial says that there is nothing worse than waiting in line at the Post Office. Really? I'm sure that a shotgun blast to the groinocological region is no day at the park.
I was being a bit hyperbolic there but he started it. I know that I'd rather wait at the Post Office than the DMV or the doctors office. Or pretty much any where else for that matter.
Senior citizens discount day. The person in front of you is paying in exact change and by exact change I mean a sackful of nickels.
Being behind someone at the supermarket who wants to argue because, according to them, Walmart allows you to pay for Amp energy drinks with food stamps, "All the time!"
You pick a register because the only other guy in line only has a bag of Funyons only to find out he is going to buy a pack of cigarettes but the cigarettes are at the register at the opposite end of the store and there is a long line.
Of course this requires the non smoker who is working the register to schlepp across the store only to return with a hard pack which is not what he wants. The next time they aren't "100s." The time after that they aren't ultra lights. And so on and so on ad infinitum.
You find find a DVD for five bucks and you proceed to self check out because it's the only thing you are buying and then a message pops up telling you to show your ID to the clerk but they are busy trying to show someone how to operate the self check out.
You go into some "fast" food place and you are the only one in line and no one seems to care. Over by the fryer is a pregnant teen who has two middle-aged women fawning over her. After what seems like forever a non-pregnant teen comes over to take your order. As she passes the other three one of the middle-aged women says to her, "When are you going to have a baby?" She replies, "I'm way to young to have a baby."
You go see a film with proper grown up actors like Meryl Streep, Judi Dench, or Ryan Reynolds and as you are waiting for the cleaning crew to finish up you find yourself surrounded by a boatload of tweens who are there to watch yet another Twilight movie. Then you notice that your neighbors daughter is sticking her tongue down the throat of some dude in a Marilyn Manson t-shirt. As you are trying to delete that particular image from your mind-brain it dawns on you that you went to high school with that dude. In the 1980s.
Waiting for this blog to end.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
You had to be there
Everyone has a story. I hope so anyway. If you don't then you are seriously doing something wrong. In fact you may be doing nothing at all. Get out there and do something! I'll wait.
I have a couple of stories. Sort of. My friend has a few that he likes to tell. You know when someone refers to a novel as "unfilmable" and yet they make a movie anyway? Sometimes it works, sometime it doesn't. Well, this story is untellable. You really had to be there. There is a visual quality to the story that can't be put in words.
I could, but I won't.
Then there is the other story my friend likes to tell. The truth is that it's not really a story at all. It's a sentence, A short one. If I told you the sentence you would say, "That's it?! That's the story?!" I would shrug and say, "Yep."
The thing is that it really is a common occurrence. Or at least I thought it was. My friend recently moved halfway across the country and he told the sentence to some of his coworkers who did not believe him. Seriously. I was shocked. Shocked!
I was like if this hasn't happened to you at least once in your life then you really aren't trying. I guess Midwestern life is even more boring that I had thought.
I have a couple of stories. Sort of. My friend has a few that he likes to tell. You know when someone refers to a novel as "unfilmable" and yet they make a movie anyway? Sometimes it works, sometime it doesn't. Well, this story is untellable. You really had to be there. There is a visual quality to the story that can't be put in words.
I could, but I won't.
Then there is the other story my friend likes to tell. The truth is that it's not really a story at all. It's a sentence, A short one. If I told you the sentence you would say, "That's it?! That's the story?!" I would shrug and say, "Yep."
The thing is that it really is a common occurrence. Or at least I thought it was. My friend recently moved halfway across the country and he told the sentence to some of his coworkers who did not believe him. Seriously. I was shocked. Shocked!
I was like if this hasn't happened to you at least once in your life then you really aren't trying. I guess Midwestern life is even more boring that I had thought.
Monday, July 23, 2012
The Bicycle Diaries: Hills
I had to embrace the the idea of climbing hills if I was going to get anywhere. I was either that of move to Kansas. I already live in Smallville, but that's another story.
I remember the first time that I went on a "long ride" and by "long ride" I mean somewhere past the library. I only made it to the county line and it was that one hill that almost killed me. Almost.
I was already going uphill, slightly, then right before the line is a short steep hill. It's not the Tourmalet but it might as well have been.
I decided then and there that it wasn't going to beat me. After a week or so of recovery I tried it again and once I made it over the top I kept going. Yay me!
I didn't try to sprint up the hill. I wasn't trying to show that particular patch of Earth who's boss. I still don't do that today. I don't want to burn myself out. But now that I am writing this part of me want to go out and do just that. If I'm dead at the end of the week you know what killed me.
I only go so far north because it goes downhill again and I would never ever be able to make it back home. That is assuming that I ever make it there in the first place. There are a lot of curves. Those are fun--in a car. On a bike it would be suicide.
It would be one thing if the road was closed or sparsely traveled but it's not. I cannot apex the curves like I need to--I have to hug the white line. (Insert your own cocaine joke here.)
However, there are a lot of those "Share the Road" signs along the way. But, much like "Speed Limit" and "Stop" signs people only see them as suggestion. That is when they aren't completely ignoring then.
Did I mention that this road is fun in a car? Well, I'm not the only person who thinks so and I really don't want to go through the windshield of a Mustang GT.
So, as I near the summit, I take some less travelled roads. Unfortunately there has been a lot of logging going on recently and I don't want to end up on the radiator of a Freightliner. That's too bad really since there is one road with a covered bridge that I really like .
Then there is this other road I like to call "the Roller Coaster." It goes slightly uphill for a bit then it's mostly downhill. It's a bit less than a mile. I guess. I don't have a GPS or a power meter or any of that stuff on my bike. If I could afford those things then I could afford a better bike. Besides, a power meter on my bike would be like an altimeter on a paper airplane--useless.
Along the way there are two small rises and if have enough speed I can make it over both without having to pedal. I may not be Bradley Wiggins but my aero tuck is pretty good.
If you watch the Tour de France you often see riders descend while sitting on the top tube. When they do this Phil Liggett will say, "Don't try this at home." I tried it once. Once. For about half a second. It was at that point that I realized why AG2R La Mondiale wear brown shorts.
I remember the first time that I went on a "long ride" and by "long ride" I mean somewhere past the library. I only made it to the county line and it was that one hill that almost killed me. Almost.
I was already going uphill, slightly, then right before the line is a short steep hill. It's not the Tourmalet but it might as well have been.
I decided then and there that it wasn't going to beat me. After a week or so of recovery I tried it again and once I made it over the top I kept going. Yay me!
I didn't try to sprint up the hill. I wasn't trying to show that particular patch of Earth who's boss. I still don't do that today. I don't want to burn myself out. But now that I am writing this part of me want to go out and do just that. If I'm dead at the end of the week you know what killed me.
I only go so far north because it goes downhill again and I would never ever be able to make it back home. That is assuming that I ever make it there in the first place. There are a lot of curves. Those are fun--in a car. On a bike it would be suicide.
It would be one thing if the road was closed or sparsely traveled but it's not. I cannot apex the curves like I need to--I have to hug the white line. (Insert your own cocaine joke here.)
However, there are a lot of those "Share the Road" signs along the way. But, much like "Speed Limit" and "Stop" signs people only see them as suggestion. That is when they aren't completely ignoring then.
Did I mention that this road is fun in a car? Well, I'm not the only person who thinks so and I really don't want to go through the windshield of a Mustang GT.
So, as I near the summit, I take some less travelled roads. Unfortunately there has been a lot of logging going on recently and I don't want to end up on the radiator of a Freightliner. That's too bad really since there is one road with a covered bridge that I really like .
Then there is this other road I like to call "the Roller Coaster." It goes slightly uphill for a bit then it's mostly downhill. It's a bit less than a mile. I guess. I don't have a GPS or a power meter or any of that stuff on my bike. If I could afford those things then I could afford a better bike. Besides, a power meter on my bike would be like an altimeter on a paper airplane--useless.
Along the way there are two small rises and if have enough speed I can make it over both without having to pedal. I may not be Bradley Wiggins but my aero tuck is pretty good.
If you watch the Tour de France you often see riders descend while sitting on the top tube. When they do this Phil Liggett will say, "Don't try this at home." I tried it once. Once. For about half a second. It was at that point that I realized why AG2R La Mondiale wear brown shorts.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
The Bicycle Diaries: Intervals Schmintervals
They say that intervals are a great way to lose weight and get into shape. Seriously? I'm sure it works but I haven't seen any results. Then again they have to be "structured." That's the problem I am having.
I like in the North Georgia Mountains. The key word there is "mountains." There are no flat surfaces anywhere, not even in a parking lot. That would be really attractive; going back and forth across a parking lot, fast then slow. It reminds me too much of "suicides" in PE. I hated those. PE teachers are sadists.
There is one part of my "long' ride where I sometimes try intervals. It's on the way back since it's mostly downhill. That's the key to my ride--I go uphill away from home and downhill coming back. If I went the other way I would make two revolutions of the pedals and the next thing you know I am somewhere in northern Fulton County trying to get a lift back home since there is no way in the world that I could ever make it back up. A man has got to know his limitations.
On days that I don't go for a long ride I end up doing intervals whether I want to or not. However they aren't very structured. They are completely random and happen when I don't want them or need them.
The first kind is when I am approaching an intersection. Either someone wants to pull out into the highway or wants to turn into their driveway or some combination of things.
So of course I speed up. I don't want to be that guy. Besides, I get yelled at enough as it is. People are jerks. But that's another story.
Another interval is of the canine variety. And you wonder why I like cats. These aren't always random since I know where most of the dogs live. Usually on a hill.
There is a house that I have passed every day since it was built sometime in the 80s. I have never once seen a dog there in all this time. Then, a few months ago, one just appeared almost out of thin air. A big one.
Fortunately it's one of the few flat spots in the area and I just made like Mark Cavendish sprinting for the finish line. Unfortunately the finish line is an intersection about eighty yards away.
One of the myriad of problems I have is that is dogs are faster than me. Well, to be specific, faster than my bike. It doesn't take long for me to run out of gears. That's the thing about mountain bikes--they are fine in the mountains. Anywhere else it's like showing up for the Indy 500 with a tractor.
And as I ride off to my certain doom the nice lady who owns the dog said, "Sorry!" At least I got that going for me.
I like in the North Georgia Mountains. The key word there is "mountains." There are no flat surfaces anywhere, not even in a parking lot. That would be really attractive; going back and forth across a parking lot, fast then slow. It reminds me too much of "suicides" in PE. I hated those. PE teachers are sadists.
There is one part of my "long' ride where I sometimes try intervals. It's on the way back since it's mostly downhill. That's the key to my ride--I go uphill away from home and downhill coming back. If I went the other way I would make two revolutions of the pedals and the next thing you know I am somewhere in northern Fulton County trying to get a lift back home since there is no way in the world that I could ever make it back up. A man has got to know his limitations.
On days that I don't go for a long ride I end up doing intervals whether I want to or not. However they aren't very structured. They are completely random and happen when I don't want them or need them.
The first kind is when I am approaching an intersection. Either someone wants to pull out into the highway or wants to turn into their driveway or some combination of things.
So of course I speed up. I don't want to be that guy. Besides, I get yelled at enough as it is. People are jerks. But that's another story.
Another interval is of the canine variety. And you wonder why I like cats. These aren't always random since I know where most of the dogs live. Usually on a hill.
There is a house that I have passed every day since it was built sometime in the 80s. I have never once seen a dog there in all this time. Then, a few months ago, one just appeared almost out of thin air. A big one.
Fortunately it's one of the few flat spots in the area and I just made like Mark Cavendish sprinting for the finish line. Unfortunately the finish line is an intersection about eighty yards away.
One of the myriad of problems I have is that is dogs are faster than me. Well, to be specific, faster than my bike. It doesn't take long for me to run out of gears. That's the thing about mountain bikes--they are fine in the mountains. Anywhere else it's like showing up for the Indy 500 with a tractor.
And as I ride off to my certain doom the nice lady who owns the dog said, "Sorry!" At least I got that going for me.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
The Bicycle Diaries: Weight Loss
As much as I ride you'd think that I would lose weight. I did. Up to a point. Then I reached terminal velocity, or whatever it's called. The same old same old wasn't working anymore.
The problem is that if you don't eat, you die. When you you ride a bike you need to eat carbs to keep from bonking. I've done that. It isn't fun.
All the magazines and ads for nutritional products tell you to consume a certain amount of protein after a ride to help build muscle. So basically I'm eating, riding, eating again. They also say that eating about six small meals throughout the day helps to keep your metabolism going. Didn't work for me.
Then there are the high protein diets. Tried that too. I gained fifteen pounds of muscle and lost zero pounds of fat. That certainly didn't help matters any. It was just another fifteen pounds that I had to drag up hills.
Finally I just went back to three meals a day and a small snack while watching TV at night. It worked. I have lost ten of the fifteen that I gained and it's all been fat. Yay me! However, I am sure that I'll reach terminal velocity once again and I'll have to try something else. That's the way it goes.
The problem is that if you don't eat, you die. When you you ride a bike you need to eat carbs to keep from bonking. I've done that. It isn't fun.
All the magazines and ads for nutritional products tell you to consume a certain amount of protein after a ride to help build muscle. So basically I'm eating, riding, eating again. They also say that eating about six small meals throughout the day helps to keep your metabolism going. Didn't work for me.
Then there are the high protein diets. Tried that too. I gained fifteen pounds of muscle and lost zero pounds of fat. That certainly didn't help matters any. It was just another fifteen pounds that I had to drag up hills.
Finally I just went back to three meals a day and a small snack while watching TV at night. It worked. I have lost ten of the fifteen that I gained and it's all been fat. Yay me! However, I am sure that I'll reach terminal velocity once again and I'll have to try something else. That's the way it goes.
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