Fallaciously yours

September 22, 2017

Happy fall!  

As you have assuredly learned from your friendly neighborhood druid, the balance tips.  The leaves fall.  Here are the three photos I took to represent the autumnal equinox.  

A runner and a brick manor.

The cat sits/at the edge of light and shadow/took over what was once/Groundhog Holler.

I think maybe one of these kid lived there and were locked out?  

Although they are all my favorite, you are welcome to decide which one is the true meaning of the end of summer and the beginning of fall.  After you have thoughtfully considered, please feel free to tell me which one is best and why.  Or, if you're that kind of person, you could just tell me which one is suckiest and why.  Oh, you couldn’t decide, eh?  How droll, my good lady/boy/mannish friend.  Droll indeed.

Here now.  Let me pontificate upon the greatness of my week.  As I quickly and ruthlessly smacked down my flu virus, I was again astride my glorious steed.  I even made it out to LaCasa Pizzeria (West) to enjoy a bicycle ride with my friend Bob and then some beers and pizza.  

It was very nice and it was pretty fun to be back on ye olde Keystone Trail after many fortnights.  We rode south and eventually reached Dr. David Banner’s brother’s park 

where there were kids playing both north and south American futbol.  Separately.  When will we play together, mis amigos?  You with your round ball.  You with your fusilinid-shaped ball.  Me with my donut-shaped ball also known as a tyre.  Sigh…. Hey, who’s ball is leaking!?

Although we were the only noticeable pizza riders, I think this is bound to catch on and become a medium deal.  Oh, alright, I tried to get enthusiastic.  Selling just ain’t my forte.  I loved the pizza!  I have lived here most of my life and this was the first time I recall going to LaCasa.  Very good pizza and the people were nice.  Bob and I sat outside with Peppi and the airplane.  

It really was great.  Maybe we’ll get out there for another square slice of glory in the near future.

October 7, 2017

As the bike crank turns, these are the days of our lives.  Here is some drama that involves my drive train.  What is wrong in this photo?

1. The chain doesn’t really mesh with the chain ring anymore.
2. Something else.

If you chose a, you may be right.  But if you chose b, you may be crazy.  But it just may be a new chain ring I’m looking for!  Oh and also a new chain and a new sprocket and I’m also going to put a new chain tensioner on the Bastard.  The first few chain links aren't settling onto the ol' chain ring they way the used ta do, sigh...  It makes for some noisy pedaling and just don't feel right (sob!).      

So there’s something else I should be doing instead of typing to you about my hopes, fears, and dreams.  Well at least I ordered my parts.  Niagara cycling, if anyone needs a 38-T 130 mm chainring, which seem less common than they used to be.

It’s been a bit soggy around here lately.  Here is a poor fellow that just wanted to get away from the sogginess.  Instead he was crushed and ignominiously transported with me to my place of work at the hookah bar and grill.

In more serious news, at least two pedestrians have recently been struck and killed by motorists here in Omaha within the past month or so.  Also a bicyclist was killed when he was hit from behind in Lincoln.  These are reasons it might behoove me and/or other bicyclers/pedestrians to consider relocating to a more bicycle and pedestrian friendly area such as Amsterdam or, possibly, Portland, OR or ME.  Unfortunately I have few no skills that are marketable outside my locality.  I also have a severe lack of ambition when it comes to relocating.  I would, however, like to encourage motorists to pay close attention to their surroundings.  One way to do this would be to provide more serious penalties for these types of offenses.  They need to be kept out of the driver’s seat and off the streets.  Preferably forever.  If that is not feasible, at least until self-driving vehicles are effective and reasonably priced.     

Here was a sad story about a bicyclist who was struck by a vehicle from behind and then sued.  She started a website to offer advice and help to other bicyclists who find themselves in similar situations, or to help them prepare for that unfortunate possibility.   

In less depressing news, my wrists have sprung back into pretty good shape after their recent hardships, as noted in excruciating detail here.  Yes, I got back on the Chariot of Yellow Glory, got aero, and rolled speedily about my business on one of the few recent unsoggy days.  I also noticed that there is much less strain on my wrists if I pull on my bars when doing some standing climbing, rather than pushing (as is my wont when propelling the Bastard).

So there you have it - a social ride, a mechanical observation (of sorts), an appeal to our elected officials and appointed lawmakers and judges and the like, and a tip on technique.  I know all of you bicyclers are eating this stuff up like a Clif bar.  Don’t worry.  There’s more where that came from.  Just let me reach into my sweaty jersey pocket, right next to that dead worm…

Yours truly, 

BSO

Looking back on Inspired to Ride

February 13, 2016

It is now nearly the time of the Red Fire Cupid, aka Valentine’s Day.  So act quickly, if you haven’t planned for it!  Here is what I saw on my way home that made me feel the love that is required of all in order to survive the cold mid Febrrrruary.

 

Although it is impossible to tell from this vantage point, I was observing a loving duck and drake, keeping it hot after so many years together, even in the creek on a chilly February eve!

As I stated earlier, I have felt some chest tightness recently, which I have since attributed to habitual shallow breathing.  How and why did I start breathing too shallowly?  I’m not really sure, but I think it might have to do somewhat with my attempts to avoid carbon monoxide poisoning as I relax in my cozy basement.  Here is what I was feeling like (but not looking like) at night.  

Fuseli's The Nightmare 

Then I started focusing on my breathing and there was a moment where I felt like the alp/night hag was leaving me.  I felt relief and loss.  Bye bye alp/hag. 

Well, if you are like me, you attended the Inspired to Ride showing down at Aksarben Cinema last Thursday.  Before the show there were a few bike-related tables advertising various events or shops.  Here are a few things I was informed of – Wear Yellow Ride on May 14, Tour for Hope Ride on May 22, as well as the Kelly Smith Memorial Ride on May 22.  Eventually I grabbed my tall beer, took a deep breath, and headed into the theater with my dad and my friend Bob. 

This film was made by Mike Dion who also made Ride the Divide and Reveal the Path.  Inspired to Ride was an enjoyable documentary of the inaugural Trans Am Bike Race.  This was a self-supported bicycle race across Mexico’s leopard-skin pillbox hat we call the U of SA.  It focused a lot on the front of the pack, but it did spare some screen time for some other bicyclists who were not even in the race that the filmmakers encountered upon their movie-making journey.  There was also some comedy relief – locals who helped Juliana get her drivetrain back in shape and some fellas at a Wyoming bar and grill who eventually espied a mid-pack guy (I think it was Brian Steele) arrive and bought him dinner.  After they bought him dinner they took a photo of Mr. Steele giving them the finger.  Here is a first hand account of the event. by one Marcus Thompson.  Their trials and travails were also pretty funny.  Like when Mike got all bit up by mosquitos or the time Paolo and Giorgio missed the ferry (not included in Paolo's youtube video below).  

Although I am not particularly fond of the competition that is a part of these types of events, I was glad to experience much less manufactured drama than on a typical episode of America’s Next Top Model.  There was also less expounding upon the spiritual nature of suffering while riding a bicycle for a long time than in some other bicycle-themed movies, like that guy in Ride the Divide.  A couple of unanswered questions I had were, "What's the deal with the final finisher who took like 129 days to finish?  What's the story there?"  I bet I could relate to this person.

Although I enjoyed the movie, it may have had a bad influence on me.  Whilst bicycling home the next day, I took a brakeless turn at the bottom of a hill.  I often do so, but this time I managed to catch a pothole or two toward the beginning of my arc,

which convinced me to straighten up a bit, such that I didn’t curve sharply enough to stay away from the curb, which I grazed, along with a sewer grate, and so I took a mild fall onto my shoulder,

leaving a small tear in my long-suffering Illuminite jacket.  My pinkie was also kind of sore for the next 24 hours.  Boo-hoo.
  

While, I hope I learned my lesson.  I can ride even slower!  And I will, dammit!  I will try to limit my coming into contact with any of this fast-paced-bicycling propaganda that is an unfortunate but persistent part of bicycle culture.  Get off of me, you speedy bicycling alp/hag!  Now I can breathe a bit more easily.  Let’s ride!  Don’t wait up for me.

February 17, 2016

As you were sleeping, I was busy drinking single malt Scotch and reminiscing, looking back, if you will.  This can be a blessing and/or a curse.  Much like looking back using a bicycling mirror that  
attaches to your helmet and/or glasses, like this one I recently purchased from an online retailer.

I see you!  You are fascinating!

I hadn’t really had any interest in purchasing a bicycling mirror, but I was persuaded to do so after reading this persuasive essay by a bicycling safety pendant.  Yep, I’m a sucker for safety.

Here is my review, which I will try to place in a more appropriate place (hey now, please refrain from rude suggestions!) at my earliest convenience. 

As Don Henley soulfully advised in a popular song, “Don’t look back, you can never look back.”  But some of us like to look back.  One way we can look back is by using a Take A Look cyclist's mirror.  This mirror does exactly what it should.  I dropped it once onto my concrete garage floor and it didn’t even flinch.  Just kind of tinged pleasingly.  I rode with it for 2 days and it was mesmerizing.  At first I had trouble adjusting it so that I could easily see past my baggy jacket-ensconced shoulders.  But then I kind of accidentally moved it off to the side whilst activating my Nite RiderMini Newt Pro 750 headlamp, also attached to my helmet.  Sometimes I feel like a bobble-head, because I attach a lot of things to my visor-equipped helmet.  So, then, when I readjusted the mirror, it happened to be at a great angle for allowing easy observance of my 8 o’clock by merely moving my head ever-so-slightly to the left.  (As some of you may be thinking, I could also continue that motion of my neck and see the same thing but with a wider angle).  The damn thing was distracting.  I felt like I couldn’t just enjoy my view because this bright, shiny, fascinating object was dangling up in a not-quite-there, yet in-my-face kind of way.  I think this might be what having bifocals is like (I’ll let you know if that’s accurate in a year or two).  I felt the mirror was distracting and unnecessary for my suburban commuting.  I need to watch the road in front of me almost all the time.  I typically ride pretty close to the curb.  If someone is going to sideswipe or rear-end me, I’m probably not going to see them coming.  If I do see them coming, I’ve probably taken my eyes off the road and am likely to be lying in the road whether or not they swerve at the last minute.  That is because there are a lot of potholes and other obstructions along our roadsides these days.  Staying focused on what’s in front of me is more of a priority than checking out what’s behind me.  My dad has a bar-end mirror  which I think would be much less obtrusive, but equally unnecessary.

So, there you go.  Let’s get safe and focus!  And now we dance! 

Orange days and heavy horses

October 26, 2011

It is an orange time. Orange things have proliferated prolifically. But for every orange, there must be a green (preferably with some peaceful white between the two). Hence the Irish flag. Besides an abundance of pumpkinful foodstuffs,

leaves and witches with orange hats entombed in concrete

 I have noticed that the greeny things are still about if one looks closely enough. One green event I saw advertised in "The Reader" was a gin and jazz costumed soiree, entitled "The Green Fairy," featuring an absinthe bar, at the House of Loom. This event apparently occurred on October 22. If this is all green could muster this time of year, then it is clear that orange is in ascendance. The green fairy is flitting about beneath the radar, but orange is out on parade. Here is one other green representative that is clearly living in the margins of society.

This may not be some "legitimate" "mural" like I hear they got uptown on the Keystone Trail, but it's all we got out here by the Poet's Perch. And as a wise man once said, "That'll do, pig, that'll do."

As a purveyor of the benefits of balance, I often strive to attain some. I like to feel as if I did something healthy before I reward myself with some unhealthy behavior. This kind of mindset could also be termed "rationalizing." The upcoming "Beer and Bagel Run" is a good example of this situation. Get up on a Sunday morning and run for awhile, then kick back with a beer and a bagel. Good, satisfying living, dammit! In this case, I'm pretty sure the beer's the healthy part, since running is generally perceived as a dangerous, unhealthy activity to my relatively sedentary body.

Speaking of dangerous, it often seems to me that most things that are "dangerous" are fun.  As I was riding home I overheard a son tell her mom something like, "Look, he's riding in the street!"  Her response was, "blah, blah, blah.... It just scares me."  Well, it scares me too, sometimes, but it's fun dammit!  Nothing risked, nothing gained.  Perhaps as dangerous, but less-obviously so, are the soul-sucking compromises to living that allow us to safely make our uneventful way from cradle to grave.  I like to think of it as "risk management."  I do not wear urban camo and cycle lightlessly across busy intersections.  So tell your kid about the "facts of life on the road" (or just let him watch Lemmy Kilmister's Lemmy) buy him some safety gear and let him cycle about on the streets where he will be mocked mercilessly by his peers due to his orange helmet, safety vest, blinking lights and elevated orange flag.  Or better/worse yet, go cycling with him.  Either he'll stop cycling or else he'll be cycling as safely as possible.

I met a guy who had recently purchased a Salsa Mukluk. Here 'tis.

Last year I thought these types of contraptions were called "snow bikes." Now, however, I've been informed that they prefer to be called "fat bikes." This is very refreshing to me, since I've recently learned to limit my use of the word "fat" in "polite" (aka "fat") society. These types of bikes would also very likely support a fat person in a slow-moving, smooth-riding manner not unlike a palanquin. Our stout bicycling friends may glide majestically about, warmed by layers of blubber and royal purple, down jackets on their slow-moving imposing draft steeds. Here is a song called "Heavy Horses" that I feel may have actually been written about fatbikes.

So grab an orange scarf and a green pair of goggles and jump on that fat bike for some comfortable bicycling with impunity!