Tuesday « Kenny Smith | A remarkable thing happens …

Tuesday

photo / site / Tuesday — Comments Off
8
Jul 25

The heat is hot and oppressively so

Not every day produces a widget. Most of mine, in fact, do not. You find other things to measure against, I guess, or you just come to rationalize the very real truth that not every day need a product. It was also prohibitively hot. The heat index got up to 103 by the time I stopped checking. It doesn’t much matter anymore after that anyway. Somewhere as the mercury climbs it is just all painful.

Or put it this way, I stepped onto the front porch long enough to bring in the shipment of cat food, a chore which takes long enough to open the door, step outside, make sure no cats come with me, taking two steps, bending over, lifting a small box, pivoting and walking back inside. It takes no time. And you could feel the heat in that brief amount of time.

Later, I walked outside to check some other thing, a task which took about 90 seconds. In that time I’d already begun to sweat.

Right now, it is raining buckets.

Tomorrow it’ll only be in the 90s. Who knows what I’ll accomplish tomorrow.

The view from the front yard, somewhere between the gloaming and real darkness.

Oh, hey! The art on the front page has been updated. If you click over to kennysmith.org you’ll see a lot of images that fit into this theme.

I have also concluded the monthly computer cleaning, deleting files and updating the thises, and some of the thats. One of those tasks is monitoring the spreadsheet with website traffic data. Last month was the second most popular month in the site’s long history. In the next month or two we’ll hit another big milestone for the humble ol’ dubya dubya dubya. (And I thank you all for coming back more than once.)

Tomorrow, much like today, but even better.

adventures / photo / running / Switzerland / Tuesday / winded-intellectual property — Comments Off
24
Jun 25

The Olympic Studies Center

We left my in-laws in one hotel and hopped a train to Lucerne, two hours away. We had a meeting. Or, as I explained it to them, “When they heard your daughter was coming to Switzerland, they cleared their schedules and we’re meeting with some serious higher ups. She’s a big deal is what I’m saying.”

Because she is. This is how you know.

We went to the Olympic Studies Center today. They’ve got signs and everything. We met with two librarians and archivists. And then we met with a grants specialist.

They explained their impressive library, signed us up for their newsletter and gave us remote access to their online catalogs. (Which are incredibly extensive. I have so much new information to write about now.)

Being the official archive collector of the Olympic Games, they’ve got, well, everything. Books you can’t find online. (I’ve been looking after drooling over some of what we saw today.) There are proposal reports from every city that has bid to host the Games. Research from every corner of the world. And, as they say in French, Bien plus encore.

I wrote pages and pages of notes. I also took a lot of photos of books I want to find and read. There were two whole shelves of books I want to find, so I just shot video of those.

I’m not an Olympic scholar — my lovely bride is a globally renowned Olympic scholar — but they are making it easy, and tempting, to give it a try.

We took our meetings just casually sitting by the torch from the 2024 Paris Games. I was sitting three feet from this.

I could have written more notes in the meetings, but my mind did wander and wonder: how much does that torch weigh?

The library closed at 5 p.m., and the people there couldn’t have been more charming. We’ll be back. (If we can convince the dean this is a business trip, we’ll be back often!)

There’s a museum next to the Studies Center, but the museum was closed today. On this beautiful — and extremely warm! — day today, though, we enjoyed the sculptures and displays on the grounds. Here’s one of my obvious favorites.

There’s also an Olympic-caliber track, which was installed by the people who actually supply the Olympic track. They had a 100-meter straightaway.

If you can see those little lights on the left (the ones on the right are just regular lights) they are synched up to Usain Bolt’s world record at Berlin in 2009. Each lighting at his pace, so you can see how suck you are compared to God’s greased lightning.

His world best is 9.58 seconds. The lights are synched to that. You do OK on that first light. Probably because you initiate the thing while he had to react to the starter. It’s over at the second light. It’s LAUGHABLE at the third. (Seriously; I was laughing.)

Anyway, we did a few starts, and then the Yankee decided to do the whole 100 and I timed it. So I had to do the whole thing too, and she timed it. I’m happy to say that Bolt, the fastest human ever, at his peak form at 23 years of age, with the finest tech of the day, is less than twice as fast as me, a currently untrained, non-sprinter, wearing linen slacks, a billowy polo and high tops.

About three-quarters of the way down, the thought occurred to me: You’re 48!

Literally in the next heartbeat my left hamstring said: I’m 48!

So now I’m limping.

I did it in 17.4, though, having pulled up in those last few strides. It might have otherwise been 16+, at this age and in those conditions with no training and casual street wear. I’ll take it.

(You also start under a pole vault display, which shows the Olympic and World Records for the men and the women. They get really, really high.)

Anyway, now I am going to do some Olympic writing … writing about previous Olympics, more precisely. It’ll be great fun, just like today

adventures / movies / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
17
Jun 25

Big ol’ jet airliner

Yep, that’s me. I’m sitting over a wing. The better to ensure there are no monsters out there. You might be asking yourself how I got here — by car. You might be asking yourself why I am referring to “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” which turns 62 years old this fall — it is still terrifying, but for different reasons. But the questions you should be asking: Where are you going? And: “What did you watch along the way?”

I’ll give you a day or two to figure out the answer to the first question. And I’ll give you a very small and indirect hint with the answers to the second question.

First, I watched “Captain America: Brave New World.”

It could have been better, but they were working from a thin comic book concept here. Anthony Mackie deserves better. And how Harrison Ford got involved will remain a mystery. Indeed, it is the copy book of MCU movies.

So, in other words, a good airplane movie. Passed the time. Filed it away. Pleased I didn’t spend time that could have been better spent doing or watching anything else.

Which brings us to our second film of the flight. And, again, Honest Trailer nails it.

There are pumpkins in North Africa, expressions some 1700 years before the technology that prompted them was invented and a newspaper in ancient Rome, where no history is observed.

Look, there are several reasons one makes a movie. Fan service, the box office, high art, or marketing overreach. Others are misguided movie execs, to right a wrong or wrong a right. One of those reasons is “to give Ridley Scott something to do,” and this film is that.

Anyway, the plane has safely landed. And if you’re plotting runtime to try to determine where I am, or otherwise trying to glean some information from the photo above, let me tell you I also watched the first episode of 1923 to complete the flight. We have arrived at our lodgings. Now we fight off the temptation to sleep — didn’t do that on the plane, as usual — so that we may laughingly ward off jet lag.

Tomorrow: more hints.

cycling / memories / music / photo / Tuesday / video — Comments Off
10
Jun 25

How do you hold an aerosol?

Sunday was the sixth time we’ve seen Guster in the last two years. (Proximity has its advantages.) Twice we saw their “We Also Have Eras” tour, which they now call a play. We saw them once in a standing venue. We caught a lunch set they put on for a local radio station. We also saw the second night of their weekend at the Kennedy Center.

I was trying to count how many times, overall, I’ve seen them now, and finally decided to just count the states. It’s at least five. To be fair, I guess, to me, that’s over almost 30 years now. (That is in no way fair to me. Or to them, really.)

Anyway, Ryan did a little crowd work, as has lately become the custom, and he came right by us.

Guster as the feature act, did a tight, nine song, 40 minute set. Which gets us to the headliner, which we’ll play tomorrow.

I had a pretty crisp bike ride this evening. And for 26.7 miles (or 42 kilometers, because it sounds more impressive to the American audience) I held my average speed throughout. That includes when I had to stop to take this photo.

That section of road has been closed for several months now. Ordinarily we turn left there anyway, but the closure has made the nearby stretch even nicer. But today I turned right, just to see what was going on with that bridge. And, yep, the road crews really don’t want you going through there right now.

This was about 20 miles in, and you can clearly see I was going fast by how blurry the asphalt appears.

And now, a reminder about how stop signs work.

There’s a four way stop near our house. I need to turn left to go home. An SUV approached from my right, and stopped, as it should. A car then approached from my left, and stopped, as it should. And then I completed my stop. And waited.

And waited some more.

Finally I shook my head, lowered my eyes and waved on the SUV coming from the right, a driver so flummoxed by car brain and the presence of a person on a two wheel self-propelled bicycle that they did not know what to do at the intersection.

So I ask you, who, really, is making roads dangerous?

This configuration of vehicles is sure to stymie anyone who has forgotten how stop signs work. This is how they work. The person that arrives, and completes their stop, first, is the first to go. In this case, I was last. Also in this case, people had no idea how to behave.

I went out this evening to put the cover on the grill and water a few plants. The air was still. The night was quiet. The moon shone brightly, peering at us through a thin skin of clouds, who’s main contribution to the atmosphere was, well, atmosphere. The clouds had a “We’re here!” vibe. And I wanted to take a photo. Only my phone was inside.

So I finished covering the grill, watered the four plants I set out to water, and then went inside to retrieve the image capturing device. It all took about as long as reading about it, I’m sure.

But when I came back outside, the clouds were gone.

Nobody needs spooky night sky stuff in June, I said to the moon. She had no reply, because she’s an orbiting satellite, and not a character than I can dialog with.

But if it were, the moon would probably say, “I can’t hold those in place, I’m a quarter of a million miles away from your clouds.”

Guess I’m doing it by myself.

How do you hold on to clouds?

cycling / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
3
Jun 25

World Bicycle Day — and universal cat day

I was pulling this post together and a cat — I won’t say who — barged in and demanded that this was the day they be celebrated. I’m contractually obligated to provide regular updates and they are the most popular feature on the site. What’s more, they know it. And so these demands come in from time to time. And, this week, Tuesday is the day.

I have two taskmasters.

Two furry taskmasters.

Two shedding taskmasters.

I’ve mentioned the joke about when they’re occasionally doing the same thing and I say “YOU’RE FREAKING ME OUT!” in mock alarm. Sometimes they almost do the same thing. I guess I should develop a “You know, I am moderately unsettled right now,” joke.

Like they care about any of that, when there’s a good patch of sunlight to enjoy.

One of my favorite Poseidon poses is when he covers his eyes. I took two shots here. In one, his leg is tucked securely over his eyes. In this one, it looks like he’s just starting to peek out.

On those occasions when a box arrives, the cats of course take it over. Since I don’t dare disturb the furry taskmasters, this particular box sat unopened for a few days. It’s in the hallway, commanding a view around a corner if they’re interested, and standing on its end, its a nice cat height. So, of course, once I opened the box I put it back in the hallway. Recently, Phoebe has discovered a new adventure, if she works her way between the wall and the now opened box.

So that’s a permanent fixture in the house now.

The kitties, as you can see, are doing well. And they’re pleased they could help the site traffic around here.

Now one of them, and I’m not allowed to say who, is demanding treats and pets for all of their hard work.

I pedaled my bike down to the local bike shop today. My friend there replaced my cracked wheel and busted hub with an all new rear wheel setup on Saturday. Shiny new cassette, a wheel with zero miles on it and a hub that will surely last as long as the last one, which started all of this. (It’ll last, right? RIGHT!?)

He’s closed on Sunday and Monday, but told me to come back today to upgrade my chain, which was due a replacement. They wear. They can get stretched. Mine, today, was a full half-chain-length longer than it should have been. ~~I’m just that strong.~~ I’d just gotten that much use out of it.

So I rode a few miles Sunday and yesterday on the new rear wheel and old chain, and three miles and change down to the shop for the change today.

He fixed me up and then sent me out into the world. So I went out for a little 34 mile ride, about half of which was on roads I’ve never seen before, which is the best sort of ride, if you ask me.

The new chain moves easily, shifts smoothly and is nice and quite.

Didn’t make me faster though. And here, Mike at the bike shop and I will disagree on an important point. He seems to think that it is my job to go fast. I say that’s why I’m buying new parts from him.

He and I went on a little ride together once and we were talking about how we used to ride and what we’d like to ride. When it came my turn to discuss the nuances of aging out of performance he said to me, “Sure, but how many of the people that you grew up with are still out riding a bike these days?”

I haven’t the faintest idea. Probably not many. Maybe that means I’m riding faster, better and longer than they are. And this, I am sure, is where Mike would suddenly swap sides and say, “See? That new chain and wheel and ball bearings did the trick!”

Because bike shop philosophers are tricky people, is what I’m saying.

This was a delightful little detour I took. At one point I came to a curve in the road where a fork went to the right. I couldn’t decide which to take. When I’m on all new roads I’ve learned to keep it simple. I don’t get lost going out — I already don’t now precisely where I am. Coming back though, can be a challenge because where even are any of these roads? And was that my turn? Or is this my turn? So I’ve recently decided to stay straight when I’m riding on new roads.

But that fork looked so tantalizing. So I decided, Go around the curve. Stay straight. This road will T-off or do something else and you’ll double back eventually. Then you can take that fork. Which is what I did. It, too, became a T-intersection, but not before I discovered what I call a Pro Ghost Hill. I’m going uphill, but I’m speeding up while doing so. It’s a fascinating sensation. It looks like watching a race. I am pushed by ghosts. Pro Ghost Hills.

Anyway, along the route I saw a few of these signs, which are always nice. On these particular new-to-me roads, I saw as many tractors and signs as I did cars, which was even better.

Right about the place I turned around I ran across a sign that gave me a clue where I was. I’m going to have to ride that direction more often.