Good Mews

The dog dug up some love and the cat came home.

Breaking News

Alert the presses, sound the alarm, smoke 'em if you got 'em.

There was a 5 mile back up this morning on the inner loop of the beltway. Of course it spilled onto the outer loop; have you just moved here?

In two more minutes it will stretch into Virginia...from the Connecticut Avenue exit. No upturned school bus, no sheared off beer rig. In fact, all six lanes were clear and clean (except for the sitting cars)

Sitting, prey tell? Indeed. Bottle necking at the gathering on the shoulder. I get their side, cop car, 20 people and a clipboard...slowing is smart. But our side? Really? Have you never seen a gaggle of Asians spilling out of a van before? I don't mean to sound racist, but you have heard of a Chinese fire drill?

There was no bent hood, no mangled axle, no bumper strewn across three lanes of traffic. Just your garden variety fender bender I suppose. There was no blood soaked stump beneath a white sheet.

Sorry for the visual....but really everyone was looking for it...HARD. Surely there must be a devastating reason for this devastating delay. It couldn't possibly be rubbernecking. From those very same people who say they never watch the news because they don't want to see that gore. For reals? YOU. ARE. LYING.

Here's a thought, do us all a favor, turn on your television. Go on, watch the local news. Tune in to see those horrible, gory accidents you say you don't want to see. Then when they happen in real life you can just keep driving instead of making everyone late for work. It's okay, you can tell everyone you were there when you watch it on the boob tube.

Hellelujah

Dear Heavenly Father, forgive me for I am about to sin. Christ! Don't you people sleep in!? I thought it would be easy to find some parking downtown on a Sunday morning.

Little did I know, there is a church on every freaking corner. Every turn I take, every move I make. Flocking everywhere! And me without a gift for Saint Expedite.

Thank god for the little bike. And this yo-yo stole it! Okay, I let him and he was pretty darn good at it.

Hell Mary, I need some Mace. The bum magnet did NOT disappoint, there was one waiting for me at the car when I returned.

"I'm sure your car will be okay, even if I don't stand here and watch it." 'Damn well better be, did you know God is on every flocking corner?'

Heymen!

WWJD

Nobody likes a cheater. What?!!? It's not like she didn't know...she was there too. It might have been her idea, I can't quite remember.

When I woke up this morning, I had no idea I'd be going down that path again. I know I said I'd never fall into such foolishness again, but we were there, the roads were closed, what the hell...

And that is how I came to do my second marathon. NO, we didn't train! Please...it's only 26.2 miles. If either of us ever wakes up unable to bag less than 30, hell 50, miles somebody must shoot us.

It was amazing. It helps that we were supporting an actual marathon runner. That might have something to do with the open road. I suspect the packs of masses behind us filled the empty streets, but from where we were, it was smooth sailing.

And there it stood, bare and naked, begging to be ridden. A barricaded city street, coned, with one half completely empty.... For 26 miles. What Would Jure Do?

So we rode...the marathon. Really, did we have a choice? The cops danced in the streets, smiled, stopped traffic, and waved us on...no runners in sight. Stopped traffic, for us, the bikers. Have I died and gone to Cycleheaven?

Oh, there was an occasional, "look at the cheaters on bikes!" But mostly it was a supportive atmosphere. Cheers, and tigers, and gummy bears, oh my!

Hell yeah, I'd do a marathon again...once, twice, three times a day!

Nothing a Little Duct Tape Can't Fix

The thing about power tools is...they exist to make life easier. For things that are tough to cut through for example. Like metal, wood, trees that fall down in the middle of roads maybe. Flesh, not so much.

I mean, the power tool, be it a saw, router, drill, angle grinder, WILL cut right through the flesh....it's jut maybe overkill, so to speak. Really, you could get the job done with a razor blade, butter knife, piece of angry paper!

But that's so not me. FF to: I was balancing my metal angle grinder precariously with one hand as the other struggled to hold still the bottom bracket I was wanting to cut a slot into. FYI...they aren't really wanting a slot cut into them, especially through the threads and all, I'm just saying.

And at some point, while staring at my bare toed flip flops I thought, this is not my brightest moment. And yes I did think, I should use the vise, but it's all the way in the basement...a good 10 feet away.

So there I was cutting a bottom bracket sideways while holding the cup with my fingertips with a circulating grinder skidding its way across toward my unprotected hand. One slip and that slot is going...well you and I both know where it is going.

First you think it, then you do it! How many times have I uttered that blasted phrase? It's fine, I was wearing safety goggles.

Indeed, I now have a slot right there in my opposable thumb. No, it's not what I was going for, but I'm using it as a business card holder. It's fine, really. It's merely a fleshy wound.