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15
Jan 13
Orange on orange existentialism
I did laundry today. I looked for a little bottle of touchup paint. Not for the laundry, of course, but as a separate instance of doing something tangible. Going to a hobby shop and saying “I need something vaguely the shade of the car from Dukes of Hazzard” was, naturally, less productive than I’d hoped for.
Cool place, though. He had model planes and model cars. He had Normandy invasion dioramas right next to models for the Enterprise. He had a plane that, at first, I thought had been buried to give it that aged look. When you leaned it you could see it was painted on. Incredible.
Anyway, I had pictures on my phone, but they were only so helpful I should have just taken my bike. On this topic the Internet is not very helpful, but that’s more the bike maker’s fault than the Internet. The Felt site says “Gloss Orange.” Having said “This one … No … This one … No … ” at least six times today I’m sure there is more variation in orange than I’d like. For a moment I’d convinced myself that the paint in the red-orange bottle was the right color. Life is good; these are the sorts of dilemmas that vex me.
I spent the afternoon at the library, where I was when a high school student called to ask me about the journalism and mass communication program at Samford. I stood outside in the beautiful sunshine — it was about 70 degrees — and talked on the phone.
I went inside, wrote emails. Did research. Looked up and wondered it had possibly become that vaguely defined “evening.” It was only 4 p.m., but what was sunny now looked like the gloaming. And then the rains came, that good Hollywood stuff that just appeared and saturated everything. The weather reports say we got about two-tenths of an inch. Certainly seemed like more.
About the time the rain let up I began to wonder if I’d rolled my window back up. (I had.) I got in the car and was fiddling around with my phone and backpack and various things and listened to sirens go up and down the road in a big hurry. I got engrossed in an email on my phone when a police officer parked next to me.
They’d found me!
It is important that he parked next to me, and not behind me. And that he helped his son hop out of the passenger seat. They were going to look for things at the library together! The child was the age when it would be So. Cool. to ride in a police car. Just a Tuesday with dad for this guy, though.
At home I looked at journals. I ate two tangelos and thoroughly disproved the efficacy of the peeling method I’d used just the night before. I listened to music while I dripped juice down my fingers. At one point the first orange was just drenching the second, unpeeled, orange. In that first moment, that orange dripping on an orange moment of watching-something-fall-and-not-being-able-to-stop-it was full of bizarre thoughts.
Should I move that orange? Should I move this one? Do I need to rinse it off? That’s a lot of juice. Why am I even going to eat this one now? There’s nothing left to it. Just look at it all over the place.
My hands were sticky for a long time after that.
To the grocery store, where we bought dinner and forgot our “Save The World” bags. The very nice cashier helpfully pointed out that we could use this plastic one to line the garbage can in our bathroom. Why has this cashier been in my bathroom? How did she know that was this bag’s fate?
Watched some episodes of Parks and Recreation. I want a DJ Roomba:
And also a ghost Roomba:
Also watched this, because this is always right:
I wonder why those tux ties didn’t stick around longer.
Much more on Twitter, including CBS and CNet, the reinvention of the baby boomer, an interactive map of drones being used for law enforcement in the U.S. today and a cat listening to Bob Marley. A few things on Tumblr today, too.
14
Jan 13
We ramble on Mondays
On pageants: A scholarship contest that requires a bikini competition starts out as a suspect issue. But if you want to take part, good for you. I don’t have an opinion one way or another, but you can’t help but notice that pageants do allow for odd reactions.
If you want to feel a bit feminist, stick with this disparaging bit of video for 60 seconds:
Kevin Scarbinsky calls Katherine Webb a golddigger.. and other creepy analysis from adults. from TheAuburner on Vimeo.
The host, the guy on the right, has Emmy awards and Best Sportscaster awards and the guy in the middle is the local columnist, radio guy, bomb thrower. Makes you proud, doesn’t it?
Need some regional bias? A New York City reporter went out to get the pulse of the city. “Ms. America is Ms. New York! And she is from … how do you say the name of that little town? Not important.” Here’s a report on the groundbreaking report:
But, according to a television news report from WPIX in New York [WARNING: Video begins playing automatically], some Brooklynites are not following the lead of their state’s senior senator.
WPIX reporter Magee Hickey took to the streets of Brooklyn, where Hagan eventually wound up after leaving Opelika (which Hickey pronounced Opel-EEK-uh) to interview her neighbors.
“There’s enough pretty women in New York that could run for Miss America. She shouldn’t be allowed to,” said one interviewee.
“Born in Alabama? That’s a lot of South to recover from,” one neighbor told Hickey.
We do have a terrible and tiresome affliction, I’ll grant you. How Mallory Hagan managed to stand upright and not gawk at everything in Brooklyn is a question for the ages.
Wikipedia tells us this: She is a native of Alabama, where she had been runner-up in the Miss Alabama’s Outstanding Teen Program, and non-finalist talent winner at Miss Alabama.
Less pretty, I waited out the rain and road back and forth on the two little hills that dip down into the creek bed near our house. This is the easiest little ride, a road perpendicular to the stream as it meanders through the neighborhood. (Maybe Miss America has been on this road!) My legs think it is a climb. The map says it is a gentle incline. I hate when the map is right.
For no reason in particular, my rear brakes:
That little part of the neighborhood is buzzing with activity. I’d have taken a picture of that, but I was too busy with my head down trying to catch my breath. There was an older guy slowly riding a bike. Two older gentlemen were walking. One lady walking a dog, another walking a cell phone. Kids were playing. A school bus stopped to let off reinforcements. A red car ran through the school bus’ stop signs and did not heed the bus honking a warning.
He had. Places. To Be. Man.
The kids got off the bus and all turned to the other side. He put the thing in gear and passed an SUV that obeyed the law and then me. By then the bus driver had already recovered and gave me a nice wave, which is better than you usually get from the buses. They are the most dangerous people in town for cyclists, I’m convinced.
Anyway, the point is hills and humidity. It was 70 degrees with 78 percent humidity when I got off the bike. I think I bumped every wall with my sweaty arms when I came back inside.
Also, the bike felt really good today. Got way down in the gears, had the wind in my ears, kept thinking there was a noisy car behind me. Felt great.
“Investigative journalism, what ever happened to that? John Oliver investigates in his new investigation investigating investigative journalism.”
The piece got a great reaction on Twitter.
Former Chicago Sun-Times editor and SIlicon Valley CEO Alan Mutter likes investigative journalism on YouTube. A little Kickstarter, a little labor of love, a good pitch to the right editor and you’re off and running.
Investigative journalism and watchdog reporting are what we need the most. Those are usually the second and third things cut, however, right after the copy editors. But at least we can do man-on-the-street reports about Miss America.
12
Jan 13
Little are the great days
I’m going to speak out of turn here, I’m sure, but there’s just a wonderful feeling when you know you have good legs when you start a ride.
We set out this morning for a spin. I had no particular route in mind because I didn’t know how far I’d be able to go. The Yankee is starting back into her competition training. Since she is going farther she should set the route. So she does and off we go through the neighborhood.
The first two-thirds of that leg is all downhill to the creek. And then you have to climb back out the other side. And it was there that I realized I had good legs today. I didn’t want to stay in the back. That was just slowing me down.
Usually I’m just trying to hang on, mind you.
I passed her and climbed to the top of the little hill that marks the intersection. Off we went up the back side of the local time trial route. At the end I got caught at the red light and waited for her. And then we were off into one of the bigger hills in town — which, I must stress, is only big in comparison.
I got down into something resembling my aerotuck and a little stretch at 36 miles per hour. Crossed the interstate overpass, took a right and hit the next big intersection. I was pretty sure that it was time for me to return home. My legs felt great and my lungs appreciated the exercise. My hands were tingling from compression of the ulnar nerves. My feet were tingling because I have a bad habit of point my toes down when I am too busy trying to breathe rather than concentrate on what I’m doing with the bike.
I could feel it starting in my neck, too, even if I was looking down more than out today. The neck and shoulders are what I’m pampering. Anyway, from standing here making the return route home would be about 18 miles. And I’d put a good 90 seconds into my lovely and competitive wife, who said she was no longer interested in hearing me complain about my form or fitness or anything.
Eighteen miles is nothing, mind you. For a frame of reference, 12-15 miles is a good warmup. I am taking the small steps approach.
So we watched football. I did a few things for work. We had tuna for dinner. We opened the windows.
I watched the first episode of 60 Minutes Sports and was underwhelmed. But at least there was whelming, right? A one-sided interview with USADA? A piece on Lionel Messi with the greatest strength being clips from his youth soccer highlights? How is it that you have an artist, the greatest player to play the game, perhaps ever, and the piece isn’t any stronger than that? They wrapped with re-tread piece from 60 Minutes. But that piece on Alex Honnold piece was incredible:
Here’s a National Geographic feature on him.
I’m finishing Wilson Faude’s Hidden History of Connecticut. It is well regarded, even by natives, for all of the small things you can learn in this text. My only problem with this book, so accurately titled, is that he waited until the very end to tell me there is a P.T. Barnum museum in Bridgeport. I must go.
We’re going to read the night away. This is pretty great.
3
Jan 13
Escaping goblins to be caught by wolves!
Saw The Hobbit:
Those are two different trailers. I just saved you the better part of three hours.
People say nothing happened in this movie. I don’t see how they can say that. There was a song. We met particularly stupid trolls. The dwarves were chased by orcs, just like our LOTR heroes. They met a particularly conversational goblin king. And then they were chased by hordes of goblins, just like in LOTR.
There was a curiously coincidental bad weather on a LOTR mountain pass scene. Gollum in a cave seemed familiar. A hobbit had pity on a bipolar monster.
See? Stuff happened. Very familiar stuff.
I found myself thinking “If Bilbo hadn’t listened so intently to Gandalf’s advice about the courage of sparing a life then Frodo wouldn’t lose his finger 60 years later.”
Come to think of it, Gandalf had a few lines that were only barely recycled, too.
I get that it was aimed at a different audience. I didn’t mind that. I get that it was a physical comedy. I like that, and it seems the dwarves have to be that way. Shame there weren’t more women in it, though, but at least there was Cate Blanchett.
It is an incredibly bloodthirsty movie, but without a lot of blood. It had very familar and, thus, simple themes. Let us all admit that prequels (and for our purposes this is a prequel) will never be what you want them to be, but there’s plenty to work with for the movie’s needs. It also has Martin Freeman, who is wonderful, and Benedict Cumberbatch will do voice work in the next movie.
It also addressed, in part, the biggest thematic problem from the LOTR trilogy. Those hawks could be far more helpful if they really wanted to be. You could make the movie a half-hour shorter with less walking, but you want to see all those landscapes. And you hope they are real places and not just CGI. It is all visually appealing.
Those hawks, though, they could be more useful. Or they could eat you. They are predators, and the only thing they’d need to be is bigger. The middle earth version is certainly capable.
Dropped off my bike at the LBS. There is a derailleur problem and they can fix it. Things are slow, said the guy we want to like, but there’s something about his smile, and I can probably have it back in 24 to 48 hours.
Maybe it is that he says things like “24 to 48 hours.” He has been incredibly helpful, but you also get the sense that yours is a dumb question, or that you might be taking him away from some important bike shop task. That’s unfair, of course. He does a lot of good work on a lot of people’s expensive equipment, and occasionally some fine work on my much cheaper bike.
I’d hoped the owner would be there. He’ll stop everything to teach you something about your chain or silicone. And I have a lot to learn. Clearly, this one little thing yesterday and today stumped me. Maybe, in 24 to 48 hours when I can pick up my bike, he’ll be there so I can ask him questions.
And then, we ride.
