July 4, 2015
Happy Fourth of July weekend! I hope that you are enjoying it.
I am doing alright, thanks for your
concern. Our house has recently been peed
in a few times by Baby Toddler Snot and now it smells a bit like a cat’s litter box
when you first open the door, but you don’t really notice it after awhile.
I have been out for a few bicycle rides as usual. I also received a neutral to mildly favorable
review in someone else’s blog’s comments, which reminds me of this awesome song
that I recently witnessed one of my idols, Mr. Alford Yankovitch, perform recently.
Here is the aforementioned review:
Anonymous said...
While the Snobs away, we could read
Bike Snot OMA (Omaha) instead. He is the opposite of the snob:
"it took me back to my goodle
days of life in a large desert town. I lived in a crack neighborhood in a
trailer in the side lot of Jim’s place, next to the bus. I met crack whores
aplenty and witnessed some unabashed prostituting to buy the shiny crystalline
substance. I worked crappy jobs, played my guitar, and cranked up the swamp
cooler and drank Red Dog in my trailer while watching Phoenix Coyote hockey on
the tv to cool off in the heat of the late afternoon/early evening. Ahhh! That
felt cool!"
Or not......
And here is a less favorable comparison to one Daniel Quail:
Anonymous said...
Bike Snot OMA is no Bike Snob, he
is also no Jack Kennedy, probably more of a Dan Quayl(e), he's not very
prolific, but while the cool cats away:
"Bicycles are neat. They can
go lots of places. They will probably, someday soon, be ridden on Mars and the
moon. Yes. In that order.
The short synopsis of the gravel is
– steep, gravelly, kind of monotonous, hot. Kind of like a Greg Brown song.
A more elaborate description of my
first intentionally gravelly bicycling experience follows."
Well, thanks, I guess.
This is also what I told my father-in-law when he informed me that he had
purchased me a ticket to an upcoming Great White/Warrant concert. Usually when I am quoted it's not as accurately, nor in as much detail. In fact most of my friends try to politely ignore my web-based journaling hobby and/or ask me questions like "What motivates you to spend so much time doing that?" Well, the answer is - I like to bicycle, and I like to express myself. But I am not very good at either of them, so I work at the museum gift shopette.
In real news, Hope Solo and her gang of hooligan jocks are preparing to attack Nadeshiko – Aya Miyami and her fellow Onna-bugeisha. Also, I think there might be some bicycling and/or bicycling-related opportunities available in the near future.
The Owl Ride is in a week or so (July 11).
RAGBRAI is coming up soon. Tour de France is happening. There are a pair of French bicyclers who are bicycling across the U.S. This last
event reminds me of my goal of crossing the English Channel on a paddle bike.
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This
will be exhilarating and nearly as relaxing as bicycling on rural gravel
roads. Afterwards I will paddlebike my
way to Germany and enjoy the Rhine River’s quaint castle-hostels and delicious
beers, wines, and goats, as advertised by the worldly Rick Steves. I will attempt
to convince Mrs. Snot, Teen Snot, and Toddler Snot to join me on this venture
on a four-seated, tandem-style paddle bike - a kind of river serpent (i.e., a naga) with moderately flexible connections, but I’m not sure they’ll go for
it. Luckily Toddler Snot is fairly
agreeable to adventures of any sort, as long as they don’t involve a lot of
fireworks, so I think I’ll at least have a co-pilot.
Afterwards I will find a swamp and start a swamp-paddlebike
fishing business, which I assume will be hard to market, but unrewarding.
My future’s so bright I’m pulling my hat down over my eyes and taking a nap.
Rest well, comrades, rest well.
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