Thursday « Kenny Smith | A remarkable thing happens …

Thursday

cycling / Rowan / site / Thursday — Comments Off
6
Feb 25

True or false or maybe

I am floating rib deep into grading. I have 60-something quizzes to work through, and of course, there are plenty of other things as well. So let’s just get through this, shall we?

I have updated the art on the front page. It looks a lot like this.

Head on over to kennysmith.org to see the whole thing. If you sit with it for 50 seconds, you’ll see the whole assortment of 10 new photographs that I took on a beautiful spring day in central California last year. We were waiting for a lunch order over this beautiful bit of sand and sea. And I’ve held on to these photos specifically just to get through the interminable second half of winter.

I had a short bike ride this evening. It took me high into the snowcapped mountains. But I want you to look off to the side of this photo. Do you see that road?

That’s the radio tower bonus climb, sure to strike fear in the hearts of every exhausted rider, who has already slogged their way up the Epic KOM, climbing 1,364 feet over 5.9 miles from sea level. That bonus climb is an even sharper three-quarters of a mile, with an average gradient of 12.8 percent, demanding another 492 feet of ascent. I hate it.

But the route didn’t take up to that tower. I just pedaled right by, to my great relief (I don’t always know where a route will take me) and then back down into the tree line, where the green things grow, and the windmills mill.

In total, it was just a 22 mile ride, and pretty slow, even for me. But I did somehow collect four PRs on Strava segments along the away, including on two climbs.

Small wins are huge wins.

And, now, back to getting ready for more work.

cycling / music / Thursday / video — Comments Off
30
Jan 25

I’m currently out of perfect similes

It has occurred to me that this week, and next, are the last calm weeks of the term for me. The material, of course, scales up, and the grading will too. From mid-February until May will be like a boat ride on choppy waters. You white-knuckle it at times, you wonder why you’ve agreed to this, but it gets you there, and you’re ultimately grateful for the trip, if only this boat would get to a dock, you to a car and, finally, back home.

It’s an imperfect simile, but it gets the point across, maybe. I could spend the rest of this time thinking of a better simile, but instead I’m using the time to try to get just a little bit ahead of things.

Today it was simple stuff. I started composing questions for some research I’m working on. I laid out clothes for next week’s classes. I fired off a message to some students in the online courses. I emailed back and forth with some people. Tomorrow, I’ll read a lot. Next week, I’ll try to stay ahead. After that, liftoff.

Here’s another video from the show last Friday. This is part of the encore. There’s a dumpster behind Guster. Once they were traveling from A to B on tour and got socked in to Western Pennsylvania. As a joke, they put some coordinates online and a few local fans showed up. They played in front of a dumpster. Occasionally they do it again, and now, they’ve incorporated it into their tour.

Here’s part of that original dumpster set. It was 2016.

I wonder if I would have gone out to stand in the cold and snow, just to see what they were going to do.

That was a Saturday. I didn’t write anything in the blog. We were all so much younger then, even though we felt old.

Thirty-one miles on the bike this evening. I’m ready to not be riding in the basement. Maybe in three or four weeks. But, for now, it’s all virtual. I go a long way, I wind up nowhere.

For some reason it looks like you ride over the ocean, but it’s a road in the game. A fictional land, where sometimes you ride fast, but you never go anywhere. It’s like being on the boat, ready for a trip you’ve been looking forward to taking, but the trip gets canceled.

It’s still an imperfect simile.

music / photo / Re-Listening / Thursday / video — Comments Off
23
Jan 25

Re-Listening: Not sure if rhythm or all the vocalists

The front of our house faces to the northwest.

Excuse me, I have started typing and a cat has interrupted.

Thirty-four minutes later I am reminded why I sometimes struggle to get things done. And he only moved after I had a little coughing fit, because I am getting a sinus-head-cold-thing.

But after 20 minutes, he started snoring, which is always kind of cute.

Anyway, the front door faces to the northwest. If you’re standing on the porch, the driveway is to your right. We have something of an oversized driveway. It seems that, at least for a time, the previous owners had an RV. So there’s a spot for that. It’d be great for additional parking, if we knew that many people. We don’t. What it is, right now, is extra cement to shovel. Or slip and fall on. (I’m fine.) Or ignore. And that’s what we’ve learned to do. After the first snow here I paid attention to the tire tracks and saw the part that isn’t important for getting into or out of the driveway and garage. And I’m not shoveling that part.

It’s on the northeast side, almost east-northeast. And this is how it looks four days after the snow and in constant subfreezing temperatures.

Which is also the answer I found earlier today when I asked myself, Why haven’t I been outside in a while?

It’s stupidly cold. And I have a temperature rule. That’s why.

We’ll hit the low 40s to start next week, though.

We haven’t visiting the Re-Listening project lately, which means I’m behind again, which means we’ll rush through some more records. The purpose of the Re-Listening project is that I am playing all of my old CDs in the car, in the order in which I acquired them. It’s a lot of fun and a lot of nostalgia. And a lot of good music. I figured I could pad the site out and write about it here, and so that’s what I’ve been irregularly doing. And boy, has it been irregular. I don’t think we’ve done a CD since November. Then, I was listening to music I picked up in 2006 or 2007.

I’ve started a new CD book now, however. And I think I’ve done this out of order. It doesn’t matter. But it matters to me. Which means it matters not at all.

The year, then, is 2001 or so. Or maybe 1998. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I guess I have to re-frame the whole project. I’m re-listening to the CDs mostly in the order in which I acquired them, more or less.

I’m sure I had this on a cassette, originally, since it came out in 1992 and the first time I heard this song on the radio, or MTV or wherever it was, I knew this was something I had to hear more of.

Which was pretty odd for a kid being steeped in everything Seattle exported.

But these guys from Chicago put out a big sound full of rock, soul, and rhythm and blues. And it was fantastic. It still is.

So imagine my surprise the first time the tape got to the third song. My utter delight, looking at the faux wood grained stereo, those big hip high speakers with the black foam covers, when these sounds came out of it. Every sound is perfect.

But the real treat in the record, then as now, is the sheer variety. The styles, the singers, the vibes, all of it. Every tack is a story all it’s own.

Also, the vocals. All these people have these hugely powerful voices. It’s also been a great singalong. And I do always wonder, when it does float to the top this way or that, how it disappears for big chunks of time.

A song I was just singing while washing the dishes.

Sonia Dada toured at least a few continents, released four more studio albums and a live album before they broke up in 2005. Not bad for a bunch of guys that started singing in the subway. Sadly, I don’t have any of their other records, but they’ve been added to the list.

The next time we get back to the Re-Listening project, which won’t take two months, we’ll hear from a pair of north Georgia boys.

cycling / movies / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
16
Jan 25

One Short Day

Because everything is lining up, and because it was cold and all of the little people are back in school we went to the movies and caught a matinee. I’ll give you one guess what we saw.

We saw the play, in London in 2015. It was one of those things where we had an afternoon, and were probably ready for an evening that moved at a regular pace, and so we walked over to the ticket booth where you can get late tickets inexpensively. One of the options was Wicked, and so we enjoyed that on the West End. This was the curtain.

The movie, part one, is what movies should be: a lot of fun. Most of what you saw were practical effects. The tulips were plentiful. The costumes were fantastic. They were, perhaps, the element most to the original, with just enough modern post-dystopian steampunk flare to pop in high definition.

Apparently the singing was done live. Sometimes that seemed obvious, not in a bad way. And other times it seemed incredibly impractical. Ga-linda is terrible. Ariana Grande is great in the role, but the character is terrible. Cynthia Erivo is so wonderful it’s difficult, even knowing the play, to imagine how they turn her from protagonist to antagonist in the second movie.

Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel, who originated the protagonist and deuteragonist on stage, have small parts. I said it’s a shame that no one is still left from the Wizard of Oz that they could drop in somewhere. But I said that in the car, without looking this up. According to People, there were three surviving cast members still with us late last year, 84 years later!

My one problem — aside from the standard musical issue that at least one song is weaker than the rest — is that someone brings into a classroom this new invention, they call it a “cage” and, in it, the animals will be kept, so they can be held in their natural condition. Which is to say, without a voice. (A lot of that element of the movie seems pointed and modern.) But here are people with bicycles, electricity, the most over-engineered train in the world and the coolest library ever, but they’ve only just invented cages?

I suppose the order of development means a lot in a fictional society, too.

Anyway, it’s a fine movie. Watch Wizard of Oz again before you see Wicked. You’ll find more of the Easter eggs that way.

It was snowing when we left the theater.

That’s just beginning of a week-and-a-half of actual winter. I bet they never have to deal with that in Emerald City. The wizard probably takes care of it.

I had a perfectly uninspiring 38-mile bike ride this evening. I averaged about 20 miles an hour, and near the end I thought, I should grab an image. Just then I was riding here.

And that fit. That’s how impressive the ride was. You might think my little Zwift avatar is riding through a cave there, but no. No, he is riding to his death. Death by asphyxiation, for he is riding through the heart of a volcano. And, surely, while holding a 24 mile per hour pace through the thing my avatar would be breathing hard, and pulling in more sulfur than anything.

Volcanoes vary, but the gases they produce are primarily water vapor, carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide (SO2), hydrogen sulfide (H2S), nitrogen, argon, helium, neon, methane, carbon monoxide and hydrogen.

No way my guy lives through that, right?

He’s probably got a better shot at being safely whisked away to Oz.

cycling / family / Rowan / Thursday — Comments Off
9
Jan 25

Progress is being made

Terrible night of sleep. But the morning’s sleep was better. Usually, I go to bed when I’m dead tired, but I went earlier and just … laid there for about six hours. Also, both cats decided it was my turn to be their personal space heaters. One cat is fine. Both cats are a furnace.

I looked at the weather, and then I looked at the forecasts for family. So, today, after doing a bunch of work, I called my grandfather to see if he was prepared for snow and ice. It seems he’ll have a harder winter weekend than we will. He assured me he is prepared to stay indoors. The porch has already been treated. He has the traditional French toast provisions. He gets the joke, but not being adventurous with cuisine, I doubt he’s ever eaten French toast. Nevertheless, he’s ready to watch the weather come and go. I asked him when it was supposed to warm up for him.

“Springtime!”

Nowhere near soon enough.

Though we’re now forecast to hit 41 degrees this weekend. I might set up a sprinkler and go run around in it.

I spent today working on class stuff for the spring semester. It’s just that for the next 12 days until class begins. Honestly, 12 days probably isn’t enough time. But I have the outlines for the first three weeks of class prepared. Another two or three hours will make me properly prepared to navigate through them. And tomorrow, and part of the weekend, I’ll continue building outlines.

It’s terribly exciting stuff, I know. It is, if you like the subject matter. Lucky for me, I do. We’re going to talk about globalization and media and culture in the first three weeks and, looking through what is in store, I want to talk about them right now, but all those days will be here soon enough, leaving me plenty of time to prepare.

Except there’s never enough time to prepare. The class I’m working on right now meets twice a week, for 75 minutes. I haven’t taught a class of that length in several years. Three, maybe four key points per day. It is a mental shift, and a lot to prepare for.

Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to boil down the entire history of recorded communication into a class session or two. And then figure out what I can omit for a unit on global cinema, and then another for an entire planet’s worth of television. These are challenging choices.

So, I’m left with the idea that it’s a good thing that I don’t have months and months to prepare; I’d agonize over it. I know that, for certain, because that’s what I’ve done every time I’ve sat down with it over the past several months.

I’ve been working my way through a sprint series of Zwift this week. I’ll do a workout, and then round out the day with some free riding to get about 30 miles in. Yesterday, I did a workout inspired by the outrageous style of Mathieu van der Poel. He’s a six-time world champion in cyclocross, and a world champion in gravel bike. Two titles he currently holds, in fact. He’s been the European champion in mountain bike. He also wins stages in grand tours and in the European monuments and classics. Also, he’s been world champion on the road, too. The exercise was meant to name drop him and try, with a straight face, to convince you that you’re emulating the attacking style of one of the best riders of his or any generation. (There are maybe three generational talents on the road right now, including perhaps the best ever; it is absurd.) Surge and recover and surge and recover. Then go over your threshold some more.

Do that eight times, and you’re just like Mathieu!

The training session has little messages on it, and I was having a good ride, and I was sure it was going to say something laughable like that. “You’re ready to race MvdP!” I was ready to mock it endlessly. But they held off.

From his Tour of Flanders win in 2023 …

In great news for wattage fans globally, MVDP has even uploaded his power data. You might want to take a seat before reading this next section. Van der Poel averaged a stunning 285 watts for the 6.5 hours with a peak power of 1,406 W. That’s 1,406 watts in the final seconds of a six-hour-and-thirty-four-minute-long race. Most of us could barely say “1,406 watts” at the end of a 280 km ride, let alone hit such a figure. MVDP’s heart rate monitor also had a tough day at the office. With an average heart rate of 141 bpm and a max of 189 bpm, the Dutch superstar’s heart rate was the only thing faster than his speedo(meter).

If you don’t know what that means, it means a lot. It means something nearly incomprehensible to mortal human beings.

I don’t care about watts — I have a shirt that says “More Pulse Less Watts” — but that’s the central metric of the workout. I was doing but a fraction of that yesterday. And I did it for about 90 minutes, rather than all day.

But I set five new Strava PRs yesterday. Four of them on climbs. (Take that, Mathieu!)

Today’s workout was a long segment with eight sprints in it. I hated most every second of it. But I kept getting these great canned messages from the app. Usually they are of the “You’re getting stronger,” standard rah-rah. But in today’s workout …

Read the room, Zwift.

After 24 miles going from sprint to sprint to sprint — some of them a bit uphill, mind you — and a few more miles just passing the time, I found I’d set Strava PRs on five of those eight sprint segments.

When they don’t feel especially fast it just means you are especially slow!