An old gentleman lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:
Dear Vincent, I am feeling pretty sad because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days. Love, Papa
A few days later he received a letter from his son.
Dear Papa, Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried.. Love, Vinnie
At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.
Dear Papa, Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances. Love you, Vinnie
I became confused when I heard the word "Service" used with these agencies:
Internal Revenue 'Service' U.S. Postal 'Service' Telephone 'Service' Cable TV 'Service' Civil 'Service' State, City, County & Public 'Service' Customer 'Service'
This is NOT what I thought 'Service' meant.
But today, I overheard two farmers talking, and one of them said he had hired a bull to 'Service' a few cows. BAM!!! It all came into focus. Now I understand what all those agencies are doing to us.
Senator Lamar Alexander is the traitorous senator from Tennessee who voted to confirm the racist judge, Sonya Sotomayor. Never again will I vote for Lamar Alexander. He is not up for re-election until 2014, but I intend to post this reminder each and every month until then. I hope he either resigns or they run a true conservative against him in the primary. I challenge my fellow bloggers to do the same if you have RINO's in your state that need to go. I may add my other senator, Bob Corker, to this reminder. I'm waiting for him to cross the aisle again and work with Dimocrats.
It is with sadness that I have added my congresswoman, Marsha Blackburn to the RINO Reminder list. She voted for the BOEHNER bill and has voted to raise the debt ceiling, thereby COMPROMISING and selling us out to the Dimocrats and the establishment Republicans. I have let congresswoman Blackburn know that I am looking forward to voting for a primary challenger against her in 2012. I hope there is one.
Somewhere in the snowy wilds of Canadia, where the men are moose, the women are hosers, and the back bacon runs free, one solitary man is still upset that I pretended to think that Ryder Hesjedal is from the United States, for I recently received the following email:
Nope, i can assure you that you really dont know how to tell a joke. Just stating something absurd is not telling a joke. There has to be a hook beyond the pretence? of ignorance. You may want to review your semi-pro rating. Hopelessly amateur may be closer to the mark.
I enjoyed this tremendously, since indignant emails about inconsequential matters are my favorite form of prose. As a bonus, this one even features the old question-mark-after-the-misspelled-word-that-the-author-couldn't-be-bothered-to-look-up, which we in the semi-professional writing trade call the "lazy-man's spell check." In any case, if he doesn't like absurdity for absurdity's sake I only hope he never sees a Steven Wright routine, because he'll be hunting-and-pecking away at indignant emails for the next ten years.
Here's how the elaborate caper "went down" (to employ the hardboiled language of police procedurals):
An Australian man on a bike tour through Oregon has learned first hand how supportive and compassionate our community is.
On Sunday, Salem resident Chad Butler was on his way home from participating in the Sisters Stampede mountain bike race when he came across a man from Darwin, Australia named Ian (no last name given) whose rear wheel had been badly damaged after being hit by a van.
Naturally, upon hearing that a person with a bike was in trouble, the smug people of Oregon all put on their helping pants:
After offering to help Ian himself, Butler then made an appeal for others on the OBRA list to step up:
"I'm hoping I can help him find a heavy duty 700c touring wheel. Being that he's currently without the ability to access his bank, I'm willing to be his benefactor, but I'm hoping to find a killer deal amongst our loving OBRA community. Bring it on guys. This fella started his bike journey here in Toronto and has pedaled his way all the way to Oregon, a mecca of U.S. cycling, only to find bad luck. I think we can change it around."
To be a recipient of this kind of assistance is to be, in an odd way, a victim. Sure, people are coming to your rescue, but they're mostly coming to your rescue to further inflate their bloated sense of how wonderful they are, so what you really are is sort of a smugness piñata being bludgeoned with kindness and bike parts.
As it turns out, though, this man was no unwitting piñata. He was in fact a professional huckster and confidence man who knew all too well how to extract the sweet, sticky nectar of smugness from the people of Oregon. Indeed, after BikePortland published the original story, commenter after commenter logged on to share similar encounters with the same individual. There was this one:
This probably sounds crazy. I am 99% sure that the "Australian named Ian" from today's front page story isn't who he says he is...
I ended up helping him fix a flat tire (he said his hands were pretty useless since his Golden Glove boxing days), and he laid on a sob story about someone stealing his wallet from his bike trailer, and having to wait for cash to be forwarded before continuing his journey (sound familiar?). I lent him $20 as he left camp, and he took my address to mail me payback. I left camp shortly after, and passing through Ashland saw his bike parked outside a bar. I walk in and he is drinking and playing video poker!!
And this one:
This sounds all too familiar to me as well. I helped out a similar fella probably 9 or 10 years ago (same small stature same penchant for tale telling) claimed he had toured all over the country and had actually stopped at Specialized bike's headquarters where he became fast friends with Ned Overend whom he fondly referred to as "Nedley". I actually drove him to a shop in Salem from the side of I-5 where he had his wheel repaired and since he had no money I ponied up the ten or so bucks with the promise that he'd pay me back. Never saw him again until (I think) now...
And this one:
Wow! I ran into this guy at Standish-Hickey in August 2010 in the middle of a tour to SF. The guy showed up with a can of Budweiser, a copy of USA Today ("rubbish" he called it) and said he'd been robbed in Eugene (bags stolen while he used a gas station restroom) and was going to high-tail it straight down 101 to the Australian embassy. He was wearing dirty old bike shorts (in fact, he was generally covered in dirt) and had a cheap 4-man tent without a fly.
Best of all, this huckster doesn't even have to bother to look the part of the long-distance bicycle tourist:
(When not grifting, "Ian" plays Homer J. Simpson at children's birthday parties.)
This is because the Religion of Smugness expressly prohibits its members from inferring anything from someone's appearance, even if it's in their own self-interest to do so. This is why they get taken by people who claim to be riding from the North Pole to Tierra del Fuego but look like they've just hastily slipped on an ill-fitting jersey in the bathroom of a greasy spoon.
Of course, one might argue that it's always better to give people the benefit of the doubt, but I'm not so sure. Maybe I'm just a cynical New Yorker, or maybe I'm just a plain old-fashioned misanthrope, but if I were approached by a man who looked as though he's just had a hot date with a hot open turkey sandwich and who spun a baroque tale of misfortune in an ersatz Australian accent I suspect I might be disinclined to help. Then again, I'd probably also be disinclined to stop and help if I were to witness a zombie attack, which is what a reader tells me other cyclists failed to do in the case of that horrific face-eating incident in Miami. (And yes, if you're reading this outside of the United States, it's officially come to face-eating here in Canada's Dockers.) Anyway, here's what happened:
In the Herald video (http://hrld.us/N9GlGB), a naked Eugene walks west on the sidewalk alongside an off-ramp of the causeway. A bicyclist speeds past Eugene just as he turns to something in the shade, in an area obscured by the tops of palm trees.
After a couple minutes, Eugene rolls Poppo's body into the sun and begins stripping off his pants and pummeling him. Later, the footage shows Eugene pull Poppo farther up the sidewalk. Though the view is partially obstructed by the mass transit rail above, Eugene appears to hunch over and lie on top of Poppo.
The footage shows a bicyclist slowly pedaling past the men about halfway through the attack, followed by a car slowly driving on the shoulder of the ramp. Cars regularly pass by the scene from the beginning of the attack, but their view was likely obstructed by a waist-high concrete barrier.
Two more bicyclists cross the scene before a police car drives the wrong way up the ramp nearly 18 minutes into the attack.
Notice how the article implies the cyclists simply ignored the attack while at the same time providing a ready-made excuse for the drivers, as though people who ride bikes are somehow worse people who drive cars. If anything, though, this horrible tale underscores our shared humanity regardless of what sort of vehicle we operate. The truth is that, whether we're straddling our crabon Fred chariots or tapping at the gas pedals of our bloated SUVs, we're all unified in our compulsion to get as far away as possible from two naked men writhing underneath an overpass. It's one thing to stop and ask a stranded cyclist if he needs help fixing his flat or offer a stalled motorist the use of your cellphone; it's quite another to stop and try to ascertain whether two pantsless people are making love or just eating each other alive. You can call this self-preservation instinct mercenary if you like, but I choose to find it oddly comforting.
But while cyclists may shy away from zombie attacks, they have no inhibitions when it comes to telling other cyclists what to do. In particular, cyclists love to bark orders at each other, and one of the most popular orders is the admonition to "Hold your line!," which I heard recently in Prospect Park:
There I was, piloting my smugness chariot and taking great pains to ignore any zombie attacks or hapless Australians that might be hiding in the bushes, when I heard those words: "Hold your line!" At first I thought they were directed at me, which was perplexing since the long wheelbase of my smugness chariot makes any kind of weaving almost impossible. But then the riders pictured above appeared, and I realized that one of the Fredericas (possibly the one with the pink hot pants) was yelling at the guy on the hybrid. This seemed wholly unnecessary, for not only was there plenty of room on the park roadway, but hybrid guy also appeared to be adhering to his "line" quite linearly. Really, telling strangers in the park to "hold your line" is for the sort of people who need a "tactile signal" to tell them where their handlebars end.
Most of all, though, I was disappointed because both riders were wearing fanny packs, and I'd like to think that there's a greater sense of community and respect among people who wear butt-pouches. Given the amount of derision they're subjected to, you'd think they'd at least look out for each other.
Well, my old friend, Donald Trump is back on the birther bandwagon again and as usual the lame stream media is beside itself. They are trying to get Mitt Romney to latch on to the idea along with Trump so they can lampoon him and make him look like a fool. Romney is probably smart to steer clear of this. Nobody in the lame stream will ever consider that Obama was actually born in Kenya and they will use the issue as a weapon against Romney if given an opportunity.
The old GROUCH is a proud birther. I believe Obama was born in Kenya and therefore an illegitimate president. I also believe he's a Muslim or at least a Muslim sympathizer and therefore an enemy of the United States. Yeah, I believe that so called birth certificate of Obama's is a fake as a 3 dollar bill.
My position as a birther apparently enrages many of the looney Facebook liberals. They hurl insults at me, squall, whine, and ring their hands in anger at such a suggestion that Obama was born in Kenya. Frankly I find their anger rather amusing and a bit odd. Why should they care what I think about this? I am nothing but a private citizen, a blogger, a Facebook insulter. I am not a newsperson or a politician. I can't pass any laws, raise anyone's taxes, or send their sons and daughters off to war. And yet they are so angry.......ENRAGED in fact!
I think deep down in their little bleeding liberal hearts, most of them realize that there is a possibility that Donald Trump and I might just be correct. They have to know that the lame stream media gave Obama a pass and refused to investigate his beginnings back in 2008. What has come out such as his ties with terrorists and communists has been largely ignored as was his association with the racist, Jeremiah Wright. I am sure the little looney Facebook liberals have to wonder what else may be hiding under there.
And so, I keep bringing it up again and again. Obama was born in Kenya. Who is listening? Who is paying attention? When will the whole truth finally come out? If the Grouch at Right Truth and Donald Trump and others would just leave this alone, people would finally forget and the whole thing would fade into obscurity.
That damned Grouch, he just keeps talking about it. How embarrassing it will be one day when the truth about the communist Kenyan is finally revealed. They will all have been fooled and there will be nowhere to hide from their shame. No wonder they are so angry!
Most of you who read the blog know I am a physician, specifically an ER physician. It seems lately on Facebook I get more and more requests for medical opinions and advice. Lately I have been asked to interpret someone's Xray results, adjust someone else's blood pressure medicine and diagnose a rash on a child.
Of course I have never seen any of these people and never had a professional relationship with any of them. I know nothing of their previous history and yet I am asked to advise them on Facebook of all places. I routinely decline to advise these people.
My malpractice insurance premium costs between $20,000 and $25,000 per year. The ER company I contract with actually pays my premium but in the end you can bet I end up paying for at least most of it. My policy covers me for legal actions that may occur against me during my duties as an ER physician. I am not covered for any occurrences outside the ER. This would include Facebook consults.
A layperson can give advice to another without fear of legal involvement. However, if I give medical advice to another, from that point I have developed a doctor-patient relationship and I am medically and legally responsible for any advice I may give. If something goes wrong or I give bad advice perhaps because I did not have all the facts, I can be sued. These types of suits happen all the time. Many of the suits are nothing but nonsense. Nevertheless it takes time and money to defend even the most trivial of these. Sadly, settling a suit is sometimes more economical than continuing to fight it, even if the defendant has done nothing wrong. We so badly need a LOSER PAYS system in the United States.
So when I decline to answer your Facebook medical questions, I hope you'll understand. And besides that, whatever happened to calling your friendly family doctor (who knows your case and your history) for all your medical needs?
I just saw THE AVENGERS. I figured, why go the first night? Like everyone else it seems, I found it rollicking good fun. Joss Whedon knows how to hold an audience, choreograph mayhem, and even more impressive – get good laughs along the way.
Robert Downey Jr. was a hoot! Gwyneth Paltrow turned in a lovely cameo (thus giving her plenty of time for her colon cleanses). Samuel L.
Ending the suspense and the waits of her family and fans, Shilpa Shetty delivered a healthy baby boy on May 21 at a Mumbai hospital. Now, she is the latest to join the new-mum club of B-town.
Her overjoyed husband and the boy's papa, Raj Kundra posted on Twitter, "God has blessed us with a beautiful baby boy. Both mother and baby are fine... Both mum and Baby K are resting. I am thrilled to bits!!!!!!"
Here's what you need to know about this little boy, astrologically. Read on to find out!
This is similar to Back Head Tattoo, making Tattoo Design is always fun but too much pain also. Once you get it done then you can fool other with various look, tattoo may be any kind such as making a face on back of head, Feather of Peacock, Naughty Tattoo, upside down tattoo and anything which you are interested in making in your body. This is one of the weird face tattoo which i like, i never made any tattoo on my body but i really like tattoos
People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf. – George Orwell Welcome to the Watcher’s Council, a blogging group consisting of some of the most incisive blogs in the ‘sphere, and the longest running group of its kind in existence. Every week, the members nominate two posts each, one written by themselves and one written by someone from outside the group for consideration by the whole Council.Then we vote on the best two posts, with the results appearing on Friday. Council News: This week, Crazy Bald Guy, Right Truth, Common Cents, Against All Enemies and Pirates Cove took advantage of my generous offer of link whorage and earned honorable mention status with some great pieces. You can, too! Want to see your work appear on the Watcher’s Council homepage in our weekly contest listing? Didn’t get nominated by a Council member? No worries. Simply head over to Joshuapundit and post the title a link to the piece you want considered along with an e-mail address ( which won’t be published) in the comments section no later than Monday 6PM PST in order to be considered for our honorable mention category, and return the favor by creating a post on your site linking to the Watcher’s Council contest for the week. It’s a great way of exposing your best work to Watcher’s Council readers and Council members. while grabbing the increased traffic and notoriety. And how good is that, eh? So, let’s see what we have this week….
----- Sunshine Coasters - Let's show some solidarity with 35 Canadian cities and towns (and counting) and meet tomorrow night at the Roberts Creek Hall at 8 pm and go for a pots and pans walk ~ can anyone film?
I am personally appalled by Law 78, in particular: The law restricts freedom of assembly, protest, or picketing on or near university grounds, and anywhere in Quebec without prior police
Emma Watson, ever best known as Hermione Granger since after the Harry Potter movies, is about to show us all a very different side of her acting chops in the upcoming Sofia Coppola film “The Bling Ring“.
"The Bling Ring" is director Sofia Coppola's next project, which chronicles the group of fame-obsessed thieves who stole from the likes of Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan. It stars Emma Watson as Nicki, the ring-leader of the little group, who tells EW the research for the part was fun.
The movie, which is based on a true story, centers on four teen girls in L.A. who made unfortunate names for themselves by breaking into a string of celebrity homes and stealing their belongings. Watson’s character, Nikki, is based on Alexis Niers, who starred with her sisters and mom on the short-lived E! reality show “Pretty WIld” a couple of years back. Alexis served 30 days of jail time, but the crimes followed her around even while she was on the show, which chronicled run-ins with the very celebrities she was accused of stealing from. And in a weird twist of fate, she reportedly ended up just one jail cell over from Lindsay Lohan, one of her burglary victims.
Watson is known for her adorable pixie looks and proper English accent, so to see her get Cali’d out is going to be a big deal for fans. She says she watched a lot of reality television in order to prepare for the role and even managed a nice slam on Kim Kardashian and her family:
“I just watched a ton of reality TV…I was doing an English course (at Brown University). So I would go from reading Virginia Woolf to (watching) Kim Kardashian. I kind of loved it, this mix of super-high and super-low culture. I think it was a nice balance,” she said.
Watson also took to Twitter to give fans some sneak peeks at her character, via a photo and her own description.
Watson also posted the image of her upcoming "The Bling Ring"
See the tweets Emma posted:
Emma Watson @EmWatson Twitterers meet Nicki, Nicki meet twitterers : ) @blingringmovie http://t.co/BdReT8NF 27 days agovia Twitter for BlackBerry® · powered by @socialditto Reply · Retweet · Favorite
Emma Watson @EmWatson Nicki likes Lip Gloss, Purses, Yoga, Pole Dancing, Uggs, Louboutins, Juice Cleanses, Iced coffee and Tattoos. @blingringmovie 27 days agovia Twitter for BlackBerry® · powered by @socialditto Reply · Retweet · Favorite
Firstly, subsequent to yesterday's post, I'd like to thank all the people who took the time to comment, Tweet, and email in order to let me know that Giro d'Italia winner Ryder Hesjedal is in fact a Canadian. I'd also like to let you know that, believe it or not, I was already well aware of this. Indeed, attributing the wrong nationality to Hesjedal was what we semi-professional bloggers call, in our oft-inscrutable jargon, a "joke." If that was unclear, it could be because I'm not very good at making jokes, or because Canadians have difficulty interpreting humor--or, most likely, a combination of the two.
In any case, I only hope Bradley Wiggins doesn't win the Tour de France, since I don't think cyclesport could handle three anglophonic countries who are incredibly touchy about their sole Grand Tour winners. (Canada and Australia are more than enough, thank you. The mildest ribbing of Cadel Evans is enough to put a snot bubble in even the toughest Bruce's nostril.) Fortunately Bradley Wiggins is about as likely to win the Tour de France as Peta Todd is to get a breast reduction, so we should be safe there for the foreseeable future.
That's right, parking for dozens of public bikes may mean that one less Brooklyn Heights resident can park an Audi for free:
“Parking is so scarce in Brooklyn Heights, anytime parking has been taken away it causes big concerns,” said Brooklyn Heights Association director Judy Stanton.
New York City cyclists are often stereotyped as a bunch of simpering lefty hipster transplant wussbag David Byrne disciples. This is patently unfair, for in reality it's only true of something like two-thirds of our cycling population. New York City drivers, on the other hand, are the real wussbags. No other group complains more, has more, or expects even more for nothing. Who spends all that money to live in Brooklyn Heights and then whines about the lack of free parking? They might as well complain that the city isn't building them free swimming pools. Just deal with it, or else hitch up your "pants yabbies," open your wallet, and pay for a space.
The median sales price for homes in Brooklyn Heights for Feb 12 to Apr 12 was $2,662,500. This represents a decline of 39%, or $1,700,000, compared to the prior quarter and a decrease of 5.8% compared to the prior year. Sales prices have depreciated 19.3% over the last 5 years in Brooklyn Heights, Brooklyn. The median sales price of $2,662,500 for Brooklyn Heights is 432.50% higher than the median sales price for Brooklyn NY. Average listing price for homes on Trulia in Brooklyn Heights was $1,283,140 for the week ending May 16, which represents a decline of 1.8%, or $23,378 compared to the prior week and an increase of 15.8%, or $174,730, compared to the week ending Apr 25. Average price per square foot for homes in Brooklyn Heights was $1,035 in the most recent quarter, which is 222.43% higher than the average price per square foot for homes in Brooklyn.
By the way, real estate in Brooklyn Heights costs $1,035 a square foot, which means that if residents had to pay market rates for the street parking they currently get for free then they'd be looking at well over $180,000 a space--and that doesn't even account for the air rights above their giant SUVs.
Speaking of perks for drivers, besides the free prime real estate the other big one is that if you kill someone while driving you're pretty much guaranteed not to get in any trouble, even if you were doing something illegal at the time. That's why New Yorkers are outraged--about dangerous cyclists:
A reader forwarded me the above poll results from yesterday's news, and it's reassuring to know that 88% of my neighbors seem to think I'm more dangerous to them on my bike than I am in my car. (And yes, I do have a car. But David Byrne doesn't, so it all evens out.)
Speaking of dangerous cycling, you probably are a dangerous cyclist if you have trouble figuring out where your handlebars end, and yesterday I mentioned the following quote from "Bicycling" magazine:
"Two layers of bar tape at the end of each drop creates a tactile signal that alerts you when your hands are getting close to the end of the bar."
Well, if that's not enough of a "tactile signal" for you, you could always try something like this, which was forwarded by another reader:
This is a vintage 19.5 inch frame Georgena Terry Symmetry 12 speed road bike with Shimano components in very good condition for sale for $250 cash at time of pick up in person in Greenwich, CT. Please call Blake at (203)722-____.
Is that tactile enough for you?
Not only are the levers ideally placed to "alert you when your hands are getting close to the end of the bar," but they're also perfectly positioned for the ensuing panic stop--that is, if you can manage to squeeze them. As it is, you'd have to do a push-up to actuate the brakes, and it's doubtful that anybody who would ride a bike like this has the upper body mass necessary to pull that off.
[Also, this bike is in Greenwhich, CT, so if you're a Brooklyn Heights resident who's enraged by the threat of bike share stations encroaching on your parking, you should really think about moving there. It's a bargain compared to Brooklyn Heights with median home sales at just over a million dollars, it's an easy commute, and you'll even get your very own driveway.]
Or, if you want something with more of a professional pedigree and don't need the "tactile signal," you could go with this bike, forwarded by yet another reader:
For sale sale 1 very fast Giant pedigree road bike. It is the model Wayne Gretsky rode in tje 1998 Tour De Spain. Both tires are flat and if you touch the chain you will get grease on you. The brakes squeeked. So I oiled them they dont seem to work very good. May need adjustment. Bike has unlimited speed, the faster you move your legs the faster the bike goes! Never been on any ramps or popped wheelies. Would be perfect for some hipster to ride around on while listening to an ipod. Price is firm, seeing how I havent seen one like this for sale before.
I'm fairly sure Wayne Gretzky never even rode in the Vuelta. Someone should really send the seller an email.
I love when I can sometimes go to the source. Reader Michael Rafferty submitted a Friday question. Here's the question and the answer from the man himself, Gary Burghoff. My EXTREME thanks to Gary for his time and very illuminating response.
On MASH, first season, Gary Burghoff played Radar pretty much the same as he did in the movie version. But,over time, Radar was softened and became
Let’s see… what has happened since the epic Carla & Larry Show? Work is its usual busyness… which is good, but difficult when being short-staffed… but over my now TWELVE YEARS of being “short-staffed” with the company, I’ve become used to it. You remember the days at Tahoe, right? I just had more free time in my lack of social life & cultural activity to keep this blog updated. You know… when you work during all the daylight hours… and it gets dangerously cold once the sun goes down, you’ve got a lot of stay-at-home time. Anyway, so that’s that. No worries, just means the time flies by & it takes care of most of that pesky free time that I simply had too much of anyway.
Sunday night, the roommates & I watched the usual HBO lineup including “Game of Thrones”, “Girls” & “Veep” but then afterwards somehow stumbled onto TLC… and watched “Sister Wives”. Yes, the “reality TV” show about the polygamist family in Vegas but what’s worse is we continued to watch the show after it… “My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding”! Now, I’ve seen the British version about gypsies and their… let’s say unique (and possibly antiquated) lifestyle… but the American one was a new breed to me. Basically, if you haven’t seen it, I suggest that you check it out… but be warned, it’s kind of addicting. The men go and work (though they never specified what they do to earn money other than there’s a season for it), the women stay home & take care of the kids and clean, the boys are absolute douches (like Jersey Shore on even MORE crack) & the girls are as whorish & slutty as unwed virgins can be, they’re all crazy and LOVE BEDAZZLING EVERYTHING!!! It’s perfectly okay though… because it’s their tradition.
Fun fact: The episode I saw was a Thanksgiving celebration at a hotel… and then a guy famous in the gypsy community as “Fightin’ Frank” came to the party. Long story short, the party was shut down at 8:30 PM because Frank punches a hotel worker in the face & ran like a b**ch. Who could have possibly guessed that? Besides everybody? Oh… and everybody was already REALLY drunk by 8:30 too… but that’s to be expected when you start drinking with your corn flakes. I warned you… it’s addictive.
Tuesday night, Dizzy & I went to a little art show at Café International in the Haight district for one of her friends at school. Have I mentioned that she’s an art student? Probably not… but there you go. The collection was about a dozen drawings of nude models in various positions… and was pretty amazing stuff. If you’re interested, he’s on the Facebook & I’m sure he’d friend you. His name is Terry Koch. Great guy.
The rest of the week was basically work... with basketball watching, TV and working out in between... occasionally sleep too... then Friday night, Nurse, her cousin Nursette, one of her friends & I went to a little celebration in honor of the Golden Gate Bridge's 75th birthday. This instance was the first installment of outdoor movies that they have in the Main Post Green with movies featuring Goldie herself. This one was "It Came From Beneath The Sea" (but we didn't stick around because it was pretty chilly). They also had live bluegrassy music from the Whiskey Family & food trucks... so we enjoyed some Chairman Bao & grilled cheeses (mine had bacon & macaroni & cheese in it).
Saturday night was a beautiful fireworks display for the bridge. They had fireworks coming off the bridge, off the port at Marin & from a giant boat in the bay. It was pretty amazing... and I was able to get a few pictures before my cameras inexplicably died almost instantly.
Sunday was a lot of relaxing with Dizzy & the roommates. That's really about it... and now I'm getting ready for the big party week with the Wingmans as they come to visit & we're planning on visiting Half Moon Bay, Monterey, Wine Country... and of course I have to show off my city by the Bay. Anyway... more on that in future posts... busy busy... have a great evening everybody!!!
The French footwear designer Christian Louboutin likes art and traditions. So it he worked with photographer Peter Lippmann to create a series of art inspired ads for his fall 2011 campaign.
This photo is a quotation of the famous baroque painting "Magdalene and the Flame” (1640) by the French artist Georges de La Tour.
Until a couple of weeks ago I was traveling extensively in order to promote my second book, "Smilla's Sense of Snow." If you've ever had to travel for work, you know how stressful it can be. I, on the other hand, have no idea how stressful it can be, because I don't have a real job. Instead, traveling for a non-job means I've officially lost my grasp on the few remaining tethers that anchored me to the semblance of a respectable existence, and I now float aimlessly through life like a distracted zeppelin. Grooming, for example, is but a memory, and I now look and smell like a forgotten garment you might come across at the bottom of a long-neglected laundry hamper. (Perhaps because that's where I've been finding my own outfits lately. My philosophy is that if you can't remember the last time you wore it then it's technically clean.) Concepts like "time" and "appointments" are now just meaningless constructs. And I've also like totally lost track of the sport of professional bicycle cycling.
I certainly have no regrets when it comes to abandoning lame stuff like "haircuts" and "being on time," but I do lament the fact I haven't been following pro bi-keen. In particular, I seem to have completely missed a hum-doozy of an Italian Giro, which I'm the last to learn was won by Rider HejedalRyder HeyjadahlWinonadal Ryder this guy:
Words can't adequately express how elated I am that this, the greatest of all the Italian Giro Tours, was won by an American cyclist from the United States of America. That's why, in lieu of words, I prefer to convey my swollen sense of national pride by means of this video, which features a dead drug addict singing some song about a star-fangled bandana:
In retrospect, that sweatsuit was a desperate cry for help. (As, arguably, are all sweatsuits.)
Anyway, this is a great moment in sporting history, and to find another American from the United States of American Giro of Italy winner you have to go all the way back to 1930 and Luigi Marchisio:
("Howdy, partner.")
A good ole boy from the Texas bayou, this Amish Shaker Mennonite parlayed a hardscrabble life as an Orchard Street kosher pushcart vendor during the waning days of the Wild West into a career as one of the finest professional cyclists the state of Philadelphia has ever produced.
Yes, they just don't make 'em like Luigi Marchisio anymore. After him, they broke the mold--or, more accurately, they sold it to a factory in Taiwan and now use it to stamp out $10,000 clumps of plastic called "S-Works."
Meanwhile, in other Giro news that I missed but everybody else already knows about, a guy clad only in his underpants wound up with his very own Farnese Vini team bike:
The above video was forwarded to me by a reader, and from what I can see he was helping out with a wheel change:
After which the team car just drove off and left Underpants with the bike.
By the way, I shouldn't have to remind you what kind of bikes Farnese Vini ride:
(Cipollini showing his "O" face.)
It's a cosmic inevitability that if you wander around Italy wearing only your underpants, sooner or later you're going to end up alone with a Cipolli.
Speaking of Cipollini bikes, this is not just some sort of rubber-stamp branding exercise like so many other bike companies created by former pros. No, Cipollini is so "hands-on" that most of his employees have already filed restraining orders, and his bikes use proprietary technology developed by "The Layin' King" himself. For example, it's long been known that Mario Cipollini's profoundly oily complexion was a key factor in his speed, and that's why each Cipollini bike is lovingly hand-basted straight from the factory:
(After this come the breadcrumbs.)
I'm also assuming Cipollini himself came up with the corporate slogan:
("The Champion, The Power, His Tool")
Which he obviously "borrowed" from this:
Though it's certainly better than the second choice, which was "What's Italian, slathered in oil, and won't be there in the morning?" And while we're on the subject of rhetorical questions, what's the complete opposite of a Mario Cipollini?
This is true for many reasons, not least of which being that David Byrne doesn't own a car, whereas Mario Cipollini not only owns a car but also does unspeakable things to passengers in its back seat. Byrne is also highly unlikely to start his own crabon bicyle company, for, as he tells the New York Times, he much prefers the communal smugness of bike share:
As well as the "exhilaration" of in-line skating:
There’s an exhilaration you get from self-propelled transportation — skateboarding, in-line skating and walking as well as biking;
Incidentally, here's David Byrne Rollerblading:
This is a familiar sight on the West Side Greenway--or it would be if most people who encounter it aren't so horrified that they then leap into the Hudson River to their deaths.
Also, Byrne explains that New York's bike share program will be accessible to people of all races and income levels--but only by accident:
New York’s program will have some advantages over the Paris and London programs. New York’s high-rise housing projects are scattered throughout the city, so neither they nor their inhabitants will be excluded from the covered bike-share program area. The ugly tendency to segregate by race and class will be, in a small way, mitigated here. By bikes!
Really, this is a major issue here in New York. Sure, we do our very best to only provide cycling amenities to the forces of gentrification, but the problem is that they're never all that far from the other people they recently displaced.
By far though my favorite part of this piece was the feeling of smug satisfaction I experienced when David Byrne actually used a term I created:
I rode down the protected bike lane on Ninth Avenue; it’s definitely a lot more relaxing to ride in these than it is to negotiate naked New York streets, though you do have to watch out for salmon-cyclists who ride against the flow of traffic.
Yep, that's right, I coined the expression "negotiate naked."
Speaking of being naked, do you feel that way if certain parts of your bicycle don't match certain other parts, or if they match other parts but not the right other parts? Well, if you answered "Of course not" then you'll be as baffled by this item in the latest "Bicycling" as I was:
I was still trying to work out whether or not the above was satire when I read this at the bottom of the very same page and decided that it was:
"Two layers of bar tape at the end of each drop creates a tactile signal that alerts you when your hands are getting close to the end of the bar."
If you're the sort of rider who needs a "color code" and who depends on "tactile signals" to keep you from grabbing thin air instead of your handlebars, then you may want to give up cycling and explore the "exhilaration" of in-line skating instead. Or, you could just get your bike "professionally assembled," like this one which was forwarded to me by a reader:
100% Positive. No scratches. Brand New, professionally assembled 25-inch Men's Road Bike. Test ride for 15 miles. Gear shifts smoothly. Unfortunately, I'm moving back to California, so I must sell this recently bought bike soon. Welling to negotiate a better price.
Scoff if you will, but it does adhere to the "color code" chart, which means it passes muster as far as "Bicycling" is concerned.
The Kindle version of my new book, The Me Generation.. By Me (Growing Up in the '60s), is now ready to download. Only $6.99. You can order yours here.
The paperback should be out in a couple of weeks. They’re still cutting down trees.
Longtime readers of this blog know I’ve been working feverishly on this for the past three years. I’ve posted rough draft excerpts from time to time. Well,
What can you expect when the Moon moves into Cancer? Is this a good time for personal relationships? Read on to find out all about the Moon in Cancer!
The Moon’s transit into sensitive Cancer makes you very emotional and impulsive. You will apparently have no control on your moods due to the influence of the Moon. At times, you may even experience extreme mood swings. You will also devote a lot of time and effort to the well-being of your family members. Read on...
Justin Bieber has been summoned for interrogation for questioning by Los Angeles County Sheriff's investigators after a photographer complained of being roughed up by the pop star at a shopping center.
Police is trying to piece together what happened in the alleged altercation — check out the shocking full report! Justin Bieber‘s that very alleged May 27 scuffle with the paparazzi at the Calabasas Shopping Center in Calabasas, Calif. just got a lot more real, as the official police report from the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department has been released.
Justin, 18, is involved in the alleged “physical altercation” with a photographer, and we have to admit that the report is pretty shocking. Check out the full text below:
Deputies from the Malibu-Lost Hills Sheriff’s Station responded to The Commons at Calabasas Shopping Center, Calabasas, after receiving a call from man who alleged he was in a physical altercation with pop singer Justin Bieber Sunday afternoon.
Shortly after deputies arrived, they contacted a man who told deputies that as he took pictures of Mr. Bieber, who was also in the company of actress Selena Gomez, he was physically battered by the singer. The man stated that Mr. Bieber left the with Miss Gomez prior to deputies’ arriving on-scene.
The victim complained of pain and requested medical attention. Personnel from the Los Angeles County Fire Department responded. The victim was transported to a local hospital where he was treated and later released. The victim requested a criminal report be taken regarding the incident and a allegation of misdemeanor Battery (242 California Penal Code) report was taken at the scene.
Many people say that the current era is the most stressful of all time. I am inclined to agree.
Yet that does not mean that our lives are worse than before. This is the richest age in human history in economic terms, and never before have we enjoyed more comforts of life, freedom or access to education and opportunity. Hundreds of millions in the developing world have been lifted out of poverty and hunger, while the developed world is largely at peace, with few gunshots being fired.
But all of us are stressed. Why? Do we work harder than ever before? I doubt it, as workers of old were exploited for longer hours than today, with far less pay. Farmers of the past did backbreaking labor for 16 hours a day, 7 days a week, just to eke out a living from the meager soil. Slaves were whipped to death if they worked too slowly.
Looking closer to home, now the 5 day week is becoming increasingly the norm over the 6 day week, while living standards are steadily rising.
So why are we so stressed compared to the past? The answer is, because all of us now have a chance.
In the past if we were born in a poor village, the chances of making it were astronomically low. Born a peasant, stay a peasant. Born a noble, stay a noble. Both the haves and the haves not were stable in their position, hence those born in the lap of luxury could laze in glory, while those born to a harsh life were resigned to it.
Today things are different. A son of a poor family can grow up to shake the world, while the richest dynasties can fall from grace. Opportunity is everywhere, but we have to climb our way up. That generates the stress. So if you ask me would I want to go back to the old "relaxed" life where your destiny was largely set, my answer would be:
