What perfect weather!!!

The weather is absolutely fantastic out there.  If I were sleeping normally I’d probably be out there-*gasp*-running!  4 days and actual total sleep time hovering somewhere south of 10 hours.  Yuck.

This is the kind of spring time weather I expect, not 88 degrees and climbing.  This is what it was SUPPOSED to be last weekend.  Oh well, no bother.

 

This week’s trivia:

 

“What’s this in my pocket?”

 

 

(Yes, that’s an actual trivia question.  Actually, a “riddle” disguised as a trivia question, but if you know the answer, you know what I’m talking about.)

The definition of "nerd"

There's actually a reason behind this.

 

I used Microsoft Excel and a few formulas to create a metric clock.

Here's how you do it:

 

=((((-TODAY()+NOW())*NOW())*2.22490742512721)*2.89351851851852)/10000

 

Metric time has 100 seconds per minute, 100 minutes per hour, and 25 hours per day.  Midnight is 00.0000.  "Noon", or midday, would be 12.5000.  No more need for AM/PM. 

A metric hour is equal to 57.6 traditional minutes.  If we still worked a "traditional" 40 hour week, it'd be like giving ourselves 4% more spare time to spend with the fam or whatever...  an extra 20 minutes a week (.3472 hours) is a good couple of miles (or more) running if you're into that sort of thing.

Roughly 2.89 metric seconds equal 1 traditional second.

blah blah blah...  the formula then gives you the current metric time.

As I'm writing this, the metric time is 2.6842.

 

Why?  What possible reason?

 

Well, awhile back there was an accident.  Yucky things happened.  We got to wondering if we could get anything in the world to help out, what would it be.  Answer?  An extra hour in the day.  Where the hell do you come up with a 25 hour day?  Go metric, baby*.

How do you calculate a metric day?  Read above.

 

*Technically it's only an extra 57.6 traditional minutes, but it's 25 equal 57.6 minute segments which, for all intents and purposes, is an extra hour since you're redefining your hour down to a mere 57.6 traditional minutes, or 100 metric minutes.

PS: MS150

I almost forgot, I lost 5 lbs on Saturday.

I weighed in after breakfast and my shower and after dinner and a shower and there was a bona-fide 5lb difference.

 

I'm certain I made the right decision.

That doesn't mean I have to like it.

Trivia answer

Dictionary dot com has the definition of “Posh” as “Smart and fashionable”.

The original acronym is “Port Out Starboard Home” because the state rooms on the Port (left) side of a ship were sunny leaving from England to America and the state rooms on the Starboard (right) side of a ship were sunny on the route home from the States.  Hence, the best rooms were the ones where the sun was shining on the way out of England (port out) and the sun was shining on the way home to England (starboard home) and they charged more for the “POSH” accommodations.  Because these rooms were all on the south side of the ship and the route was entirely north of the equator, you would be greeted each day with a marvelous sunrise, spend the day doing fancy schmancy things top side, then be sent to bed each day with a gorgeous sunset.  The daily temperature in the room (and this holds true today) would be of little concern because during a cruise there is plenty to do elsewhere.  Plus these voyages were generally 1 way trips with each leg—to and from destination—booked separately rather than our out and back Carnival cruises today so you wouldn’t necessarily have the same room on each leg of the trip.

[If you think about it from the standpoint of an English sailing company in the heyday of English world dominance—the 1800 and early 1900s before PanAm put boats out of business—and not an American sailing company (since America didn’t rule the world yet), it makes a lot of sense because the rooms would be on the wrong side from an American point of view (starboard out, port home—home being New York you filthy Yankee Imperialist pigs!).]

 

Back to Dictionary dot com…  For word history it says:

Word History: “Oh yes, Mater, we had a posh time of it down there.” So in Punch for September 25, 1918, do we find the first recorded instance posh, meaning “smart and fashionable.” A popular theory holds that it is derived from the initials of “Port Out, Starboard Home,” the cooler, and thus more expensive, side of ships traveling between England and India in the mid-19th century. The acronym POSH was supposedly stamped on the tickets of first-class passengers traveling on that side of ships owned by the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company. No known evidence supports this theory, however. Another word posh was 19th- and early 20th-century British slang for “money,” specifically “a halfpenny, cash of small value.” This word is borrowed from the Romany word påh, “half,” which was used in combinations such as påhera, “halfpenny.” Posh, also meaning “a dandy,” is recorded in two dictionaries of slang, published in 1890 and 1902, although this particular posh may be still another word. This word or these words are, however, much more likely to be the source of posh than “Port Out, Starboard Home,” although the latter source certainly has caught the public's etymological fancy.

 

--

 

It says “no known evidence supports the theory”… My guess is it’s because they have the route wrong.  Leaving England and heading to India a ship travels south from England, past the Equator, around South Africa, then turns north back to India.  No one side of the ship is facing the sun during this voyage, except the top.  In the tropical heat all rooms would be miserable—plus it’s a stupid long trip.  Additionally, if there were a “cooler” side of the ship it would be downright freezing at night without the heat of the sun to warm it during the day and dank and dark after a few days at sea—albeit in relative comfort of the time.  The only voyage where this is a sensibly upgradeable accommodation is the transatlantic voyage.  In fact, if you can afford it why wouldn’t you upgrade?  From the fancy accommodations it’s then very, very easy to ascribe the term to “a dandy” who would naturally be able to afford such arrangements and from there a mocking, derisive term… much like “Congressman” today.  It’s much less likely that a term meaning “cash of small value” would come to mean something synonymous with opulent accommodations.  Seriously, is a “posh limousine” something of little value?  I think not.

 

Granted, there is no conclusive evidence that I’m right and the internet is wrong; nor can I remember my original source—that’s what makes it trivia, I guess.  It could simply be a convenient acronym today to assign to a term that fits the circumstantial evidence in retrospect only, but the folks back then weren’t smart enough to figure it out.  Reviews of records of shipping companies show no official usage of the term “POSH” on voyages to India, but I found nothing disputing or confirming the relation to transatlantic cruises.  In fact, a quick call to Carnival with regards to their just passed repositioning (one way) cruise from the US to Rome had south facing state rooms costing the same as north facing state rooms.  But even that isn’t necessarily a shock.  Repo cruises are cut rate one way tickets ($1499 for a 16 day cruise from the US to Rome; it’s coming back in November if you’re interested) and sometimes the best deal in vacations if you can grab one.  They’re basically moving the ship to a new port whether people are on it or not and it was probably less than half full anyway.  Besides, they know more about putting bodies on their ships than I do.

My hunch is that the shipping companies had very little to do with it, just like the rolling fajita/burrito vendors don’t refer to themselves as the “Roach Coach”, but the guys at the construction site sure as hell do; and when you go to Jack in the Box and ask to “Jack Size” a meal, they know exactly what you mean even though “Jack Size” is found nowhere on their marketing material.

What a difference a day makes

Today, I feel great.  Were the second leg of the MS150 today it’d be no problem.  I’m still a little jelly-legged, but there’s no headache, nausea, or any of the other bad mojo that was still cookin’ yesterday.

Oh well.  Say la vee.

 

 

Ugh... shattered

Electrolyes are funny little things.  They help you...  um...  they... 

 

Ok, I don't know what they are.  I'm an accountant.  But they live in Gatorade.

Saturday, they didn't live in me.  At least not in high enough numbers.

Here's the lowdown of my MS150 ride.

 

I make the decision to leave from my house and join up the route where it turns left on Clay road.  Not a bad decision.  It allows me to sleep in a little and get gear together.  I calculate when I need to leave to catch the pack and miscalculated a little, but that's ok.  I reach the route at just about the back of the pack and start passing.  What fun!

 

I'm rolling along at a good clip--nobody on the road around me--wondering if I'm in the lead or at the back until I roll into the first rest stop.  Those folks confirm that I am, in fact, at the back of the pack.  No bother, I catch up to everyone at lunch.

 

Anyway, I'm cruising along at a good clip.  There is really nothing spectacular about the ride for the first 40 miles or so.  It's mostly just another Katy ride.  Just before Bellville the hills start, but then you get to rest for lunch.  Into the lunch stop I had been rolling at a swift 18mph clip.  In the portacan I discover that I'm not hydrating enough.  So, from there on I make a conscious decision to drink more water.

 

This is where things start to turn south.

 

The temperature after lunch starts ticking up.  The hills start rolling.  It's also where the scenery begins to get just pain gorgeous.

 

Riding through the countryside of Texas is where the thought occurs to you that there is a good reason God put his people in Egypt and not Texas--they'd have never left Texas.  You roll up the hills and are rewarded with gorgeous, sweeping vistas as big as the horizon.  It's just breath taking.

 

3/4 of the way--75 miles in--my legs start to get seriously rubbery.  I'm begining to get a little light headed.  I seriously need to just rest.  My speeds are dropping.  I knew the biggest concern I'd have would be staying power and my concern is proving to be well founded.  2 miles from the next rest stop I try to flag down a SAG wagon but everybody else was catching the wagon at the previous rest stop.  I come to the discovery that if I'm going to get any help I'm going to have to get it 2 miles down the road.  So, I nut up and ride.

 

I roll into the next stop and just about fall over.  Something's not right, and it's really not right.  I head to the can and the fluids are the right color, so it's not that.  Something else is going on...  I wander around for a little bit trying to get wind back into my sails and run into my friend Margaret Shelton.  Priceless personality, priceless person.  I tell her I'm thinking about sagging to the next stop and she says "you know, if YOU feel like that, then you probably should."  I take it to mean that beyond the light headedness and rubbery legs that if I'm thinking of it--of all people--that I probably should listen to me.  I don't take sagging lightly.  Besides, if I get an 8 mile breather I'll be more likely to finish Saturday and be fresh enough for Sunday.

 

So, I sag.  8 miles on the bus.  85 miles into the ride.

 

From the last rest stop I grab some generic Advil, juice up again, and take off.  The last 11 miles was tough, but I finally passed the rollerbladers and the unicycle guy--you never want to get beat by the rollerbladers or unicycle guy, since I started out behind these freaks I knew I had to catch them.  I cross the line, meet the fam at the Continental tent, and begin to take a physical assessment.

 

I'm cramping.

I'm nauseous.

I'm light headed.

I'm dizzy.

I'm flushed.

My skin is hot.

I have chill.

 

I get a massage and the cramps don't go away.  In fact, they get worse.

I opt to give it an hour to see if things get better.  Then I opt for 2 hours.  Still nothing.

 

Now I'm faced with the option of starting a ride that I know I can't finish and forcing someone to drive to Austin and pick me up for no good reason.  Plus I'm facing some kind of heat related something that I don't think I've ever faced before.  I opt to throw in the towel.  96 hours in 6:16 averaging 15mph is enough for me.

Sunday was spent not in the hills of Bastrop, but fighting headaches and nausea for most of the morning.  There's no way I could have ridden today.  I know I made the right call.

 

That doesn't mean I have to like it.

 

I talked with a doctor friend of mine and the current working hypothesis is that my electrolyte level got low.  I drank enough water--but not too much--but I wasn't replacing the salts and whatnots that were coming out in heat.  That sounds about right.

Dallas is out.  San Antonio is probably out.  This is a lesson is always--ALWAYS--remembering that the event is big, no matter how strong you think you are or how often you've done it in the past.  Respect the event.  Train for it.  Train hard.  Had the temperature been 5 degrees lower (like it usually is), I probably would have finished without serious issues.  But it wasn't and I wasn't ready.  Simply put.  It's hard to imaging riding 96 miles in a day being a humbling experience, but there you have it.

 

Jill's ride probably went better.  Bug her until she posts the update.

Weekend trivia

I said earlier in the week that I’d have more sailing trivia… well, here it is.

 

Posh describes something that is opulent, comfortable, nice, and/or fancy.

You know what the word means and what it describes.

 

What you don’t know is that it was originally an acronym.

 

What phrase did the acronym represent?

 

Yes, this is sailing trivia.

 

 

Rule number 1

When the weather is nasty and you have a race/ride to do is this:

 

The rain doesn’t quit when you’re having a good day, so you don’t quit when the rain’s having a good day.

Bring the rain… wash away the weak.

 

 

Of course, this will all pass today and tomorrow will be an absolutely gorgeous day.  I can’t wait.

 

“On the road again,

I just can’t wait to get on the road again,

The life I love if fighting MS with my friends,

Oh I can’t wait to get on the road again.

On the road again!

Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway.

We’re the best of friends,

Insisting that the wheels keep rolling our way…

And our way is…

On the road again…”

 

More later.

The best part about Easter

There’s that whole hangin’ with the fam thing…

There’s that excitement that a child shows as they hunt for easter eggs hidden/layed by some bunny…

There’s the pure innocent cuteness of watching your little nephew find eggs and put them in your niece’s basket…

There’s the absolute hilarity of your niece pushing your nephew out of the way to find an egg… and not put it in his basket…

There’s that whole miracle of the resurrection thing…

 

But the best part of Easter is the Reece’s Peanut Butter Eggs.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm……

 

There’s actually a higher ratio of peanut butter to chocolate in these things.  They’re soooooooooooooo good.  Without those I don’t even think I’d get out of bed for Easter.

Ok... I've decided...

Ok, I’ve decided to ride the MS150 in May if I can make it there.

 

If I can make it?  Yea, there’s a catch.

 

I’m already dropping the coin to pay for the donation to cover this April’s ride--$400.

With little baby Breda coming I’m not going to be able to cover the contribution for the May ride (I might not be able to cover the contribution for the October ride, but I’ll cross that bridge when it approaches).  The 2 smaller rides are $300 each.

 

If I get the Dallas and San Antonio rides under my belt, there’s a much higher chance that I’ll be doing those 2 marathons in November (San Antonio) and December (Dallas).  That is, much higher than the current 0% chance.  And if I’m doing those 2 marathons, you can bet your bottom that the 60 miles of runs in October that have been haunting me will suddenly will come into my gun sights.  You see, everything’s connected.

 

If I can get pledges either privately (see the profile on blogspot for the e-mail addy) or below in the comments to cover 2/3 or more of the contribution for the May and October rides, I’ll be going to Dallas and San Antonio—twice.  100% of all contributions go directly to the National Multiple Sclerosis Society and fund research to help people like my aunt who have MS*.  If there’s any interest at all I’ll set up an online donation site and we can go from there.  Otherwise, I’ll just have to get fat and turn into a human sofa and lose the remote and spare change in the folds of my several love handles.

 

After just talking to a few folks about this I’m already at $50.

 

 

*Multiple Sclerosis, in the best version of English and layman’s explanation that I can muster, is a disease where the proteins in the sheaths surrounding the nerves that carry the signals from the brain are eaten away by enzymes in your own body.  The resulting scar tissues—or multiple scleroses—cause interference with the transmission of data.  Consequently you’re left with an increasingly degenerative situation where fewer and fewer commands sent by the brain actually make it to the intended targets.  Balance, motor skills, speech, and innumerable other normal body functions that we generally take for granted—including running and biking—are affected.  Thanks to research largely funded by the National Multiple Sclerosis Society diagnosis has improved and the disease is being caught earlier and earlier allowing for more effective treatments.  In the past the condition manifests itself by showing symptoms of a tumor or some other disease (such as lupus) and only after other treatments were exhausted—such as chemotherapy—was MS finally diagnosed.  Also thanks largely to research by the NMSS more effective treatments have been pioneered to slow the progression of the disease.  They’re not quite at a cure—yet—but that’s why they sponsor the rides.  Thousands and thousands of people get out and ride in order to fund research to help those who can’t.

I almost forgot...

We have a trivia winner.

 

Back in the “olden days” ships would sail to and fro across the globe.  Occasionally they would have to carry items designed to defend themselves and/or offend others.  These items generally took the shape and function of cannons that were specially designed to fling iron balls at other ships with tremendous speed and/or power.  Ideally the ball would go into the other ship and the other ship would go into the water.

Balls, as you know, roll.  Ships, as you know, rock.  If you put little rolly things on a flat something that is all rocky, then what happens is you have a bunch of rolly things all over the place and not precisely where you would like them to be, which is in the side of the other ship as it sinks into the water.

Being somewhat smarter than your average ape, sailor back in the olden days designed a brass tray that was specifically designed to keep the rolly things where they should be and not all over the place.

This tray was called a “Brass Monkey”.

Brass contracts at a different rate than iron or lead when it’s cold.  When it’s especially cold outside, a Brass Monkey will contract so much that the cannon balls would spring up out of their designated spot and go rolling to and fro all about the ship’s deck.  This would only happen, however, when it was cold enough out to “freeze the balls off a brass monkey”.

Congrats, James, your book learnin’ has won you… nothing.  “The offer of $50 to staple your hand to your forehead stands.  It has to be a through and through, and there has to be some stickage of hand to forehead, otherwise you’re just stapling your hand, and I’ve done that for free.”

Alternatively, you can probably expect an e-mail from my friends in Nigeria to help coordinate the transmission of some other prize money.

 

More sailing trivia later this week.

Can't get it out of my head

Happy Easter, again.  Let the good times roll.

 

Ok, I can't get this out of my head.  Thanks, Jon.  Thanks a lot.  "I'd be a heckuva challenge"...  Sure would be.  Especially considering I'd theoretically be 1 week past the Bike to the Beach.  Not to mention my brand new bundle of joy.

Then again, if I'm seriously considering the "Texas Double Triple" (An event as big as Texas--3 MS150s, 3 Marathons, 6 Cities, 1 State, 573 miles) it'd be some rockin' endurance training to help me transition from bike to foot.

 

Anyway...

The MS150 in 6 days.  I'll be 1/3 of the way through the TDT...  if I even do it.

Happy Easter trivia

The Beastie Boys have a (very rockin’) song called “Brass Monkey”.

It’s about a drink.

There’s also a phrase “It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off of a Brass Monkey”.

It’s not about a drink.

 

What’s it refer to?

 

I’ll probably ride between 30 and 50 miles tomorrow… a nice Saturday morning ride.  How odd is that?  3 miles on foot is torture, 50 miles in the saddle is a nice ride in the morning.  I’m a little nutty.

 

Have a happy Easter, and don’t forget to tell Mike thanks.

 

2 funny stories

No, still not my favorite (and only) triathlon story, but 2 other funny stories.

 

1.

I’m riding in Memorial Park a couple of weeks back and see some folks on bikes and some folks running along side them.  Sure, that’s all normal and well.  The odd part is that the folks running are TETHERED to the bikes.  Ok, I hate running, but I don’t hate it so much that I’ll tie someone to my bike and drag them around Memorial Park.  I put in my 30 miles and finally ask one of the tandems “so, which one of you lost the bet?”  They look back at me with a puzzled look and then tell me “we’re training for adventure racing.”  Apparently it’s part of HoustonFit…   www.adventurefit.com or something like that.  I haven’t looked into it yet.  It might be fun, but not if I have to be tethered to some crazy on a bike.

 

2.

My brother and fam are moving to Colorado (guess what that means:  www.goforthegorge.org).  They’re packing stuff up and getting things ready to put the house on the market.  On their kitchen table is sitting a devotional candle they picked up in Santa Fe during their wedding/honeymoon that has a picture of the traditional Roman Catholic Jesus with the heart and crown and all that stuff.  My sweet 2 year old niece (and Goddaughter) points at the candle and says “what’s that”.  My sister-in-law says “it’s a candle.”  And, since it’s Easter time and all, adds “do you know who that is?”  My niece nods, my SIL inquires, and my niece promptly responds “Mike”.  The picture on the candle is of “Mike”.  Ahh, children.

So, this Easter weekend, be sure to remember all that, um, “Mike” did for you.

Yellow Jerseys

Who are the yellow shirts at Memorial Park?

2 days, 2 rides

Ok, so I behaved for 2 days straight and rode back to back.  Tomorrow I take a day off from the bike entirely.

 

Average:  17.7 (!)

Distance:  19.14

Top Speed:  26.0

Time:  1:04:31

 

Freakin' rock!

 

I caught on a pace line rolling at 19 or 20mph.  My "fast lap" was actually 4 or 5 laps.  Nice.  One of the neat things about catching a pace line like that is you're moving so fast you don't really have time to play other games.  The first 30 minutes were pretty boring, but when that line came by, the last 30 just flew by.

 

Extra bonus:  I've dropped 2lbs in 2 days.  I should have been riding like this sooner.

Morning after & ride report

Someone asked me yesterday “are you still running much?”  My answer:  hell no; I’ve gone exactly 3.1 miles since the marathon.  That’s not to say I’m done running, I’m just focusing on getting my wheels underneath me for the MS150.  Come May I’ll likely be running again and gearing towards the triathlon, even though the tri may be put on hold in favor of raising my little bundle of tax credits.

 

I have no idea how many laps I did on the Picnic Loop yesterday evening.  It was something close to 19 miles, so it was probably somewhere north of 15 or 16 laps.  That many laps gets boring if you don’t have a game or two to play to keep yourself occupied.  There’s the chase/defend game.  Find someone and chase them down.  Once you pass them, defend against them passing you.  It’s fun if they’re playing too.  If they’re not playing it’s not so fun—especially if you spend a lot of time chasing them down.  Last night I was able to chase down a guy I will refer to simply as “Boston”—because he was from Boston and I don’t know his name.  He blew past me right at the start of one of my fast laps—a lap that goes no slower than 20mph at all times.  So naturally I had to chase him down.  I caught him and he paced me for a few seconds, then instead of letting me pass him he decided to start a pace line with me.  That was cool, because without his help I wouldn’t have finished the lap at 20+mph.

Before “Boston” there was “Sweet Blue”, a cute little girl in a blue jersey on a silver roadie.  It took me ½ a lap around the picnic loop to catch her at somewhere between 18 and 19 mph.  She was probably clocking 17 to 18mph.  I caught her.  I passed her.  She chased me.  She caught me.  I grabbed some water.  She passed me and got some distance.  I closed the gap and caught her again.  I passed her again.  What fun.  Then I lost sight of her and went on to some other games.

2 laps later she’s in a pace line that blows by me like I’m riding knobbies.  I simply can’t let that stand, so I pick up the pace and manage to match her speed even though the pace line is several yards ahead of me.  Time passes and I can’t seem to close the gap.  They’re cooking along at close to 19mph and speeds approaching 20mph.  I think to myself “She can’t keep this pace up” when I’m really thinking “I hope she can’t keep this pace up because I sure as hell can’t!”  I fight along for awhile then begin to slack off the throttle just a bit to a more “reasonable” 18 – 19 mph and grab some water.  I catch my breath and get going again, but I’ve lost sight of her.  No problem, though.  I’m beginning to pass the stragglers on the pace line, so that means the line has broken up.  I should be able to catch her eventually.  3 laps later I see her sitting on a park bench gabbing it up with some other folks. 

She quit. 

I won.

 

The last lap is usually the “top speed” game.  It’s a simple game of matching or beating your top speed.  I lost that game, but came darned close to winning.

The last game I played wasn’t even on the picnic loop.  It’s called “make it to the portacan before you wet your pants”.  It’s a bit of a challenge in cycling shoes.  I won that game.  In fact, I’ve never lost that game, thankfully.

 

One game I don’t get to play anymore is exclusive to mountain bikers.  It’s called “Bug the Roadie Pukes”.  You put on the street slicks and get on the picnic loop and start riding.  When you get up to speed, you pull in behind some Roadie Puke (that’s any dude on a road bike) and draft off him for a few seconds.  Then you pull up along side and say something stupid like “Nice day for a ride, eh?”  Then you smile, do a nod-wave, and just pull on ahead.  If you can do it without exerting any effort on your face its even better.

Behaved.

Did what I "ought" to.  Who'd have thunk it?

 

Rode the picnic loop.

Average:  17.1mph

Distance:  19.18 Miles

Max:  25.5

Time:  1:06:43

Want to v ought to

I have my gear.  I have my bike.  I have my water.

I ought to go out and ride in Memorial Park for about 1 or 2 hours before dark.  I ought to put in a good workout in the saddle.

 

I want to go to the bar and have some whisky and a couple of beers and just sit back and bullshit with some of the folks at the bar.  You know, tell some lies, then some bigger ones, then laugh about it.  Seriously.

 

Put your money on the table.  All bets are in at 6:00pm.

Two-fer Monday

Yet another sign society is broken:

The Nigerian scam works.

People lost, on average, $5,000 to this stupid, preposterous scam.  Quite frankly I’m astonished that people fall for it, though I shouldn’t be.

Basically you get an (unsolicited) e-mail from CAPTAIN DANIEL BSONGO CHRISTIANSON or some other stupid name (all caps, though) claiming that you are a GOOD CHRISTIAN BROTHER and FAITHFUL HELPER.  Because of that he’s asking your help IN TRANSFERRING FUNDS FROM AN ACCOUNT that once belonged to A HIGH LEVEL DIPLOMAT or some other minister in the government.  You see, he was the former secretary, or his father was, or something like that and he knows about THE MILLIONS STOLEN FROM HIS COUNTRY but nobody else does.   Of course, it’s sitting in some bank account and he NEEDS YOUR HELP in transferring the cash because if he tries to do it THE MINISTRY OFFICIALS WILL TACK HIM DOWN AND KILL HIM.  So you give a fax number, set up an account, transfer some small amount of cash—say, $5000—to cover set up fees, then $25,000,000 will be transferred in and $22,500,000 will be transferred out leaving you with a healthy bank account in a foreign land untouchable by the feds.

 

Never mind the fact that someone is asking you, A GOOD CHRISTIAN BROTHER, to steal from a HIGH LEVEL DIPLOMAT.  Nevermind that you, A GOOD CHRISTIAN BROTHER, are being asked to assist in the laundering of MILLIONS STOLEN FROM HIS COUNTRY.  Forget for a moment that the only reason you’re being contacted at random is because some crook is looking for someone who happens to be both greedy and stupid, two traits that are biblically incongruous with A GOOD CHRISTIAN BROTHER.  No, forget all about that stuff and send the foreign stranger $5000.

 

You deserve to lose your money, you stupid greedy chump.  And that piece of advice just cost you another $500.  I’ll be waiting for your check; make it out to “cash” and be sure to put “because I’m stupid” in the memo field.

 

If you’re stupid enough to fall for this, AND stupid enough to report it to the feds, you should have your name printed in a list and published annually in every newspaper in the country so that the rest of us can have a shot at separating you from your money you stupid, greedy chump.

 

Meanwhile, drop $5 and rent “The Spanish Prisoner”.  It’s the same scam, but the movie is 15 years old and based on an even older scam that’s about 600 years old.  Nothing is new under the sun. 

 

But please, please don’t wise up because I have some ocean front property in Arizona I really want to sell to you.  I’ll even throw in the Brooklyn Bridge and some moon rocks for free.

Busy weekend

Ok, so I was busy this weekend being a husband and daddy and didn’t ride.  Get off my back.  We have a brand new begonia in our front yard, some newly trimmed bushes (during which I made several off color jokes that made my wife simply groan before she sprayed me with the hose), and a baited yard and thoroughly poisoned ant-bed.  I count that as cross training.

 

Plus, we have a winner…

 

The trivia question was in what movie did Tom Petty quote his own song and say “It’s good to be king”?

 

The answer was, in fact, The Postman.  Despite its length it was a fantastic movie.  Maybe not one of the all time greats, but it was still pretty fantastic.

 

I’ll be bringing my bike to work starting tomorrow and start putting in an hour or so at the picnic loop to get in an extra 50 or 60 miles before the MS150.  That should just about polish off the training, then I can focus efforts on bringing a baby into the world.

 

Here’s something to think about.  I’m kicking back over the weekend listening to some Jewel (no snickering, guys, she’s a really good artist).  In fact, she’s a really, really good singer and songwriter.  Not only that, she’s got a good story and she broke into the industry the hard way—using talent to write good songs, living on dirt and pebbles, working hard.  Despite her snagglepuss and certifiable hippy hygiene, she’s even pretty hot.  So why isn’t she the pop icon that Brittany Spears or Christina Aguilera is?  Neither one of them can write or sing their way out of a wet paper bag, yet they’re huge compared to Jewel or even Alannis Morisset—also a damn good artist and writer.

My hunch is because neither Alannis nor Jewel were willing to strip down and writhe on stage or slobber on Madonna for screaming juvenile boys (and their fathers).  Guys don’t watch Brittany or Christina for their artistic talents—unless you consider their plastic enhanced bodies and thinly veiled porn reviews (that is, concerts) artistic talents.  Yet more evidence (as if it’s needed) that “society” is broken.

 

Oh yea, the Sport Junkie site is broken and I don’t know why.  90% of my posts there have vanished into thin cyber-air (cybair?). 

Senseless trivia

The last senseless trivia was answered.

Recap:

Q:  What’s the origin of the label “Ivy League” school?

A:  Originally there were 4 schools (Duke, Yale, Harvard, and I think Brown).  In Roman terms there were IV schools.  Hence the designation IV, or Ivy.  Way to go Jill.

 

 

Today’s senseless trivia:

Tom Petty sings “It’s good to be king” on the CD “Wallflowers”.

What movie did he also use that line in?

 

 

Tomorrow, before 9:00am, I’ll have traveled at least 30 miles by bike.  By Sunday at 4:00pm I’ll have traveled at least another 30.  I might-MIGHT-even run a block or two.  It looks like I won’t be hitting the 300 mile mark, but I’ll certainly approach the 250 mark.  If you’re a betting person you should have bet on the under.  To be completely honest, I would have lost money.  I’m a little surprised I haven’t ridden [yes, that’s a word… now; update your dictionary] more.

Disclaimer

Any suggestion, insinuation, or hypothezimation (yes, that's a word... now) of any potential running event, real or imagined, should not be construed as me suddenly liking, enjoying, or relishing the notion of running.

Training update

Distance 34 miles

Time:   2:07

Average:  16 mph

Top Speed:  31 mph

 

Good ride.

 

Check this out.  Not for the scared of heights.

 

The crazy idea of a Texas Double Triple came to mind.  3 MS150 rides and a marathon in the corresponding city in the same year.

 

This year it would look like this:

 

Houston Marathon  01/15/06

Houston MS150  04/21/06

Dallas MS150   05/06/06

San Antonio MS150  10/07/06

San Antonio Marathon  11/12/06

Dallas marathon  12/10/06

 

It even leaves time for a triathlon during the summer months.

 

I'm not doing it this year.  Well, I'm probably not doing it this year, what with the baby and all.  But it would be pretty kickass.

But I might do it next year...  or in 2008.  Hm.  I'd already be 30% there as of April 21.

 

Baseball season finally starts tonight (last night, actually).  Finally, real sports can begin.