Broke my bike. Or at least the tire.
Aww. My first flat.
Changing tires isn’t hard. There’s roughly 48,000 videos on YouTube of varying quality that can walk you through the process. The thing none of them discuss is thumb strength. You need it.
So I wrestle with the tire, forfeiting my opportunity to ride this morning. Theres was a time crunch. Finally get everything situated and discover a chain rub. Well, good. Can’t figure that out on my own and the solution is the bike shop. I was taking it in next week for a tune up anyway, but now I’ll lose the weekend.
And I had such great rides planned for the weekend.
Took the Yankee to the airport and, afterward, found myself very hungry. My Chinese last night wasn’t the tastiest, never settled well and didn’t stick around long. So, where to go?
My friend and noted foodie Chadd Scott suggested I try Sprayberry’s Barbecue. One of the young members of that family is a student of The Yankee’s and we’ve been trying to visit, but every time we pass through they are closed. (Why can a barbecue joint be open at 2 a.m., anyway?)
The timing worked. It got a recommendation. Had to be done.
Here’s my lunch:
As I said on Twitter, I grew up in the center of the BBQ universe. I’ve had BBQ in restaurants, gas stations, shacks and off the back of pickup trucks. I’ve had Thai barbecue, smart casual barbecue, in environments where the 1950s decor that never evolved and on more grills than you could count. Sprayberry is good y’all.
I met one of the other young men from the Sprayberry family. He told me that part of the ceiling was original. This is from the 1926 gas station:
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Calvin Coolidge was president when Mr. Sprayberry had that ceiling installed. Consider that for a second.
So I drove through tiny Newnan to get back to the interstate. Found this little factory will missing windowpanes, burning lights and the distant sound of production inside:
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What a great look that building had. No sign, though. Maybe, I discovered later, because I was standing at the back of the property. Google Maps was no help in trying to figure out the name of the place.
The banner across the bottom of the blog is also from that building. I love the guy walking. Makes it look very dynamic. The banner across the top, meanwhile, is from just a few blocks away. Do you remember those books from childhood that spread an entire city panorama before you? Everything was moving, everyone in town was there and things were going on everywhere. (Similar to this.) I always loved those settings. So much to see! So many expressions to study!
That’s what that corner, where I shot the top banner, looked like. Utility workers were busy on both sides of the intersection. The roads were humming along. People were working on one side of the street and there were people standing and talking intently across from them. Busy little moment in a sleepy Southern town.
Made it home and to the bike shop. Described the problem. Was assured, by the third person I’ve seen working there (I’ve been there three times) that they’d get it figured out.
And then he asked how you changed gears on my bike. Promising.
Came home. Read for a while. Had dinner, wiping out the remaining chicken tortilla soup, a recipe from Henry’s Puffy Tacos in San Antonio, Texas as found in the Off the Eaten Path book. Stuff is even better after you let it sit for two days.
Sorry. Dozed off during a Fraiser marathon. I was icing my shoulder and woke up to the interminable Golden Girls theme song. The ice pack was still mostly ice, so the nap wasn’t long, but that’s enough to chase me to bed. I must now wrap up my evening’s festivities, put everything away, including this.
Find me on Google+. Finally got one of my invites to work today. I spent part of the evening tinkering with the site, getting used to the interface and wondering “How many platforms does one need, anyway? Fatigue sets in. Time to feed the monster is finite. Something has to yield. Which will it be?
