What a Weekend!

This weekend was one of those weekends where you need another weekend, so you can recover from the first weekend.

Friday night, I picked up my new 29er frame. I didn't hang the first part on it, because I knew if it got built, I'd be riding it the next day, and that was not in the spirit of the ride. Better not to tempt myself, I decided.

Saturday morning, I drove to Joe's Bike Shop, to meet the crew for a little cross ride down to Munson, since they recently paved the Munson Hills Trail. Cliffy hauled us off the beaten path, to take a different route south. We paralleled the Munson Slough, via access roads. The scenery beat the usual traffic racket, and the change of venue was good. I even dragged the boys onto the old slough, quad trail, just for old times' sake. They were less than stoked, except for Longshanks. For him, the more arduous the better! Surprisingly, one of the biggest complainers was piloting the lone mountain bike on the ride. Hmm, maybe with expert speed, comes F1 fickleness. Those thoroughbreds need constant care. Donkeys like me, we just slog along. However, word on the trail was that he may just be revisiting his dusty, forgotten blog, so I'm not gonna bust him up too much, for fear he loses his way before he even finds it again.

Afterwards, I met Ms Worm for a quick lunch, and then drove over to Zone 5, to help out with ceiling painting. Because nothing is better for a neck that's sore from riding a cx bike all around the woods, including 10+ miles of singletrack, than ceiling painting. It was cool to to see how the shop is progressing, and to catch up with Marcus, who's been MIA since he joined the Northeast Baby Maker's Association.

From there, I hit up the grocery shopping for the next day's Mother's Day dinner, go home a get a shower, and load up to meet the Wrecking Ball and his Missus, for good old Mexican grub. By the time we got home, I was beat....and full. Los Amigos kept their spot as one of my favorite Mexican joints in town.

Sunday morning brought Ms Worm and I to church with my Mom, and then to her house so we could cook her lunch, and hang with the fam. BIG, FAT steaks, grilled asparagus, potato salad, rolls, and blackberry cobbler(That's right Lil' Ball, I had cobbler!), and I was right back in that stuffed feeling of the night before. It was all I could do to stay awake.

After Ms Worm and I returned home, I assumed the horizontal position on the couch, and nearly had a heart attack as I watched young Eli Tomac nearly win a national SX championship in his rookie season.

I needed to take  a break from yelling at the television, so I went out and spent 1/2 hour hanging parts on the new frame. I was beat again, so that ended the night. By then it was after 10, and time to crash.

Truly a good weekend, but I somehow felt more tired when I walked into the office this morning, than I did when I left Friday.

This weekend shows no sign of slowing down. The Redbug Challenge is on again, and hopefully has a decent turnout from the local community. This race has remained primarily a local's race, which has a cool, down home flavor. I'm sure that the Red Cotton Candy Dragon would love to see it blow up into a World Cup event, but for now, it's manageable, and not so intimidating. Come check it out if you have the time. Hopefully, I'll see ya out there!

Let Down

Since I spent Sunday night watching a movie and recorded supercross with my girl, I missed all of the hoopla that hit the US media, regarding the death of Osama.It wasn't until the next morning on my way to work, when I happened to venture over to a satellite radio channel that has a dj, that I heard word of the US special forces' great success.

 I hit the interweb news sites, and read the stories. Here's the rub. I can remember when I was younger, watching the news with my dad. There would be video of middle eastern and third world countries celebrating the latest death of some unpopular figure. Wild screaming, rifles fired in the air, burning of posters and flags; and I remember thinking, wow, they must have really hated that guy! Why are these foreign countries so bloodthirsty? I'm glad I live here the US, where people don't behave in such a manner.

I saw several photo streams on the various websites. I found out that once again, I was wrong. Apparently, the US is no different. I have no problem with Patriotism, and I'm still glad to live where I do, but I suppose the truth still stands, that no matter where you live, the mob is no brighter than a herd of cattle. I'm glad that Osama was found, and removed from the picture, and I can even be ok with his being shot in a firefight. But I feel no need to celebrate the death of anyone. Folks who actually lost someone in the 9/11 nightmare, maybe they have a different point of view, and by all means they have a right to it, but I'd bet that 90% of the yahoos seen chanting and partying, with flags over head, lost nothing more than a false sense of invincibility on that fateful day.

Osama's death will not bring back even one of those who died that day. It will not bring back the belief that US soil is untouchable. It will not stop the hatred of things Western. Those pictures reminded me of the celebrations I saw in foreign countries, when the Twin Towers came crumbling to the ground in a smoking pile of  rubble and lost innocence. He needed to be taken out, via capture or otherwise, but I thought that we, the American people, would have handled the outcome with a little more class. I just thought we would have done better.

Blood Boiling

The clock has ticked past the 24 hour mark, and inside of a calender day, I'll be staring across a sea of teenage angst and hormones, at this band from my past. 41 years old, and punk still takes me right back. I just hope this old heart and body can take it, 'cause given half a chance, I'll be wading in neck deep! From what I hear of the venue, we may have to bend some rules to get down front. These boys are not only not dead, but are still throwing down. They've been around ever since I discovered the allure of screaming fast guitar riffs and sheer irreverence. Dig around and you can find TV clips of them back in the early 80's, looking like Lil' Ball and Ice Berg, but wearing clothes from my era. Grafin's voice doesn't even sound like it's cracked yet, back then. There were angrier, and there were more heavy bands around, but this band has stood the test of time, in my book.

To top it off, they're the opening band.



This is the main event. Rise against has been a top 3 favorite of mine, from the new school era. I had tickets to see them in Atlanta, back in 2007, and got sick as a dog coming home from RAAM, and had to bail. That has plagued me ever since. I'm not missing the train at the station this time.

Just pulling these vids for this post has me bouncing off the walls, Time to knock back a cold beer, and slow things down....until tomorrow night that is.

Stolen Time

This morning I decided I had no desire to drive my truck. Usually, my job does not allow for a choice, but today, I had no inspections. I pulled out the Lynskey, and rolled for the office. I was stressed as I left home, but the worries melt away with the morning humidity. The fresh springtime Tallahassee smells brought a smile to my face.

This extra riding time feels stolen, as if I'm playing hookie. I had a doctors appointment today, and I rode to that, too. All day, I've been looking forward to the ride home. This is the way a work day should be. Little gems of goodness interspersed with the drudgery of explaining to the bean counters, that yes, our real estate market is in fact, still in the toilet.

If you can swing it, I strongly recommend the occasional commute, not to make some political or environmental statement, but for a much more selfish reason. Do it because it just feels good.

Key West Pics

Another Year Closer...

Yesterday was my birthday, and all in all, it went pretty well. I mean, I didn't get robbed, like we did on Ms Worm's birthday. I wasn't stuck in an airport, like we were on Ms. Worm's birthday. The worst thing that happened on my birthday was having to go to work. I'm not about to bitch about that, given her nightmare celebration.

I tried to kill myself with food, though. Lil' Ball and I tabled up at Riccardos, and enjoyed what is, in my opinion, one of the best hot subs in T-town. After lunch, the office folk had baked a cake, so I partook. 20 minutes later, Ms. Worm walks unexpectedly through the door, carrying evil good cupcakes. Not wanting to disappoint clydesdales the world over, I indulged yet again. I spent the afternoon trying to imagine the technicolor icing foam I was gonna hurl rolling into the sprint on the Joe's Ride.

The ride was a good time. Wrecking Ball finally made it back out on a road ride, and in true form, he sprinted for about 50 yellow signs! Perry Mason even came out, as did Mark R, and at the last minute, Lil' Ball rolled around the corner, so instead of being the solo BC guy, I had a crew of 5.

Afterwards, we hit up Sonny's for some BBQ. It's been a long while since we've done the ride/grub double, and I miss it. Ms. Worm journeyed back across town to meet us, and 4 friends sat around bullshitting until after the restaurant had closed.

Thanks for the love folks. It made for damn fine birthday!

Violated!

Our trip to the Keys was pretty successful. We made our flights south with little hassle. We navigated driving through N. Cuba, to reach the Keys without getting kidnapped and sold into slavery. I saw my brother get married. Nobody died during any of the partying, and I was only called a conehead once, by a smartass bar comedian/singer.

Of note, I have to say I was surprised at the early confirmation of a stereotype at the first convenience store I entered. We were on the road and headed south, when I was dying for my drink of choice, the diet coke. I know, it's bad for me and all that. Whatever, you gotta die of something. First stop, no less, and the lady behind the counter doesn't speak any English, whatsoever. A series of grunts, head shaking, and points scored me a $2 fountain drink, that tasted like carbonated piss. Apparently the national language carries little weight south of Ft Lauderdale. Poor beverage service, that's nationwide. You just have to find the local spots who take pride in their business.

I'll get pics from the trip posted later, the real story is what I'm here to vent. Sunday afternoon, we drive back up to Ft Lauderdale, to have dinner with Lil' Ronnie. No sweat. A ton of traffic, but overall, no biggie. Monday morning, we have breakfast with Ron again, and head for the airport. All still flowing rather smoothly. We get to Atlanta, and the hassles begin. Our flight to T-town is delayed a half hour. We find lunch, and return to the gate to find we've been bumped another half hour. This delaying continues until our flight that was supposed to arrive in Tally at 5:10, now is not scheduled to leave ATL until 8:30! Around 6:50, I notice our flight is no longer on the gate board. A quick chat and I find out the flight is now cancelled, but if we can get across 3 terminals in 15 minutes, we can catch a 7:30 bound for home. A mad dash ensues, but we score.

Back in town at 9, and home by 9:30, only to find the front door unlocked. Ms Worm is immediately mad, as I have a history of leaving doors unlocked. I'm running through my memory of leaving, in a panic, quite sure I locked the door. As I specifically remember returning to lock the door in the pouring rain, she tells the television is gone. Now I'm completely doubting my memory! As I follow her in, I'm gutted to know we've been robbed, but at the same time relieved to see that half of the back door jamb is laying in the dining room floor. Bastards kicked in my door!

They got my television, both of our laptops, Ms Worm's jewelry box, a shotgun, and a few other small electronics. We don't have much, but they cleaned out anything of quickly sold value we had.

Did I mention yet, that it was Ms Worm's birthday. Happy Birthday, honey! Welcome home, now give all your shit to somebody else for your birthday.

The heirloom family jewelry is the biggest physical loss. That stuff isn't replaceable. More than that, I hate seeing my wife scared in her own house. They took her feeling of security, more than anything else. The cops say they arrested 3 guys over the weekend, that they believe are tied to a string of burglaries within a mile of our house, that went down last Wednesday. I asked if she'd mind running them by my house, and waiting outside for about 30 minutes, while we "discussed" a few things. I know vigilante justice is not the answer, but right now, I'm pissed! I'm a pretty tolerant person, but given the chance of retaliation, at the moment, I'd jump all over it. Right now, we sleep Dirty Harry style, with a loaded firearm within arm's reach and the bedroom door locked. I know that there is a one in a million chance that anyone will return to our house anytime soon, but if it helps her sleep better, then so be it. Anybody got any recommendations on security system companies?