Snatch the Pebble

Coolest sorta Pixies cover ever

2009-07-07T21:26:00.000-07:00

A cool video of Frank Black taking to the stage to join the Portland School of Rock kids at their Pixies cover concert. Maybe there is some value in the Guitar Hero/Rock Band juggernaut afterall. Where is my mind?
Stolen from Mark Lewman.

Summer Mom Visit Pics

2009-06-29T15:05:00.001-07:00

My mom seems smaller than I remember.

At Hakone Gardens in Saratoga.

A book, white zinfandel and Salem Lights=a content Gwen.

Two Wheel Tuesday: Lorenzo v. Rossi

2009-06-16T09:35:00.000-07:00

You're gonna wanna go full screen on this. The Italian commentary is almost as good as the racing.

That's a pretty good weekend

2009-06-01T10:50:00.000-07:00

Mountain Biking
Saturday we did a rare weekend MTB ride in Santa Cruz which included this little episode:

Video and editing by Troy Super D Top Dogious.

Gardening
We also got some veggie sproutlings at Love Apple Farms which went into the raised beds and hanging tomato basket we finished getting together on Sunday.

A modified Square Foot Gardening bed awaits planting.

Did you know there have been six different 'Peaches' in Peaches and Herb?

I also worked on the potting bench, which looked like this on paper:

...and thankfully looks much better in person...

Potting bench: Still have to finish it, but I'm happy with the progress.

I made a sink out of a bucket that would make MacGyver envious.

Giro d' Italia-ing
Then I watched the last stage of the Giro d' Italia on the RAI, the Italian channel (in Italian!)...after three weeks of racing it all came down to the final stage--a time trial--with only 20 seconds separating Russian Dennis Menchov and Italian Danilo DiLuca. DiLuca came out fighting but in the end it was the cagey Russian who bettered The Killer from Abruzzo despite this dramatic high-speed wipeout in the final kilometer. Nice to have a Grand Tour end in something besides a procession. Bravo!

Did I mention it was a good weekend?

Now if I could just figure out how to sleep!

Still bringin' it

2009-05-27T08:42:00.000-07:00

I've Been So Alone, You See

2009-05-22T10:30:00.000-07:00

Makes No Sense at All: Hüsker Dü on Good Company

2009-05-19T11:28:00.000-07:00

I wish there were more footage of the grandmas in the audience moshing.
Link courtesy of Eli A. Want Out.

Bands, Beer, Barbarella and Crepes

2009-05-18T21:42:00.000-07:00

I met my pal Phil at the Crepe Place in Santa Cruz Sunday and had a few beers...

...while Lucero rocked a sweaty kinda Memphis-influenced straight-up rock and roll...

...and openers Black Joe Lewis killed it James Brown Style...

...simultaneously, Jane Fonda got her space sex freak on in Barbarella on the bar TV...

That's a good night.

...and we're back...

2009-05-15T11:05:00.000-07:00

Battered and bruised, but usually no worse for wear, my beloved EXS-600 finally succumbed to my errant boney ass cheek. RIP Good buddy...thanks for (capturing) the memories.

I've been camera-less since a little sit-and-crunch incident with my trusty digital camera back in March, but last night I stopped at the Fry's sleeper cell in Campbell and got a new one. The larger-screened, more feature-laden, higher megapixely and, incidentally, cheaper EX-S5. I'm hoping I come to like it as much as it's mango-hued predecessor. Here's a picture of it and some test shots from this AM:

The macro setting seems to like the wisteria, but then again who doesn't?

This is a wood carving someone did of our former neighbor cat Lupe. I think it says she's wanted for the murder of birds and other small animals. I miss the Lupe.

So far, so good...many more pics to come!

The new Casio EX-S5 at about actual size, on my screen anyway.

Too coincidental

2009-05-15T10:28:00.001-07:00

I have to admit I harbor a loathesome contempt for Pearl Jam. Despite being from my hometown, I could never get past Eddie's mouth-full-of-shit vocals. When he did the soundtrack for 'Into the Wild' a couple years ago and actually started singing, well, I relented a bit. And maybe I've grown a little less snobbish about things--but probably not...I still can't listen to 'Ten' without wretching.

Anyway, he covered an obscure song called "Big Hard Sun" by Indio for 'Into the Wild' that I'd come to like back in my college DJ days...so I had to give him props for that...and the rest of that album is pretty OK too. On his (or Pearl Jam's) latest vinyl 7" release--a 2008 Christmastime single that shipped out this week--he covers John Doe's "The Golden State" with Corin Tucker of Sleater-Kinney--the original of which I just put on a mix for a friend a couple weeks ago, which seems too much of a coincidence, particularly on the flipside of a song called 'Santa Cruz'...which would make a perfect soundtrack for my thoughts as I pedaled my bike over the hill from San Jose this morning on Bike to Work Day. Add to that blog mistress Heather Browne's musings on coming over the Hill (I know, I know--Valley Go Home) and it all seems too much of a coincidence. Not to mention the fact that half the Santa Cruz Skateboards logo is on the record sleeve.

But blah, blah, blah....you can listen to both songs here on Heather's excellent music blog I am Fuel, You Are Friends which takes its title, incidentally, from a Pearl Jam lyric.

Transfixed

2009-05-08T16:58:00.000-07:00

I know this may seem 'SO last month'--old people stop me on the street and ask me if I've heard of Danny MacAskill as I slip a pedal and gouge my shin (again). But I just can't not post it as I'm sure I account for fully one half of the 4.3 million views. And this coming from a guy who can watch about 15 minutes of a New World Disorder video before I'm numb to it, amazing as it all is.

I love the style, creativity, photography and music. Inspiring indeed.

(And yes I am well aware of how extra weak it makes the below video look).

Me on Geek TV

2009-05-04T11:40:00.001-07:00

Dave Tee Vee Demo Don from Dave Peterson on Vimeo.

Temptation Thursday

2009-04-23T09:09:00.000-07:00

Aural Warning: Lucero Commeth

2009-04-17T16:11:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite musical discoveries over the past couple years has been this here band from Memphis.

They're on tour and coming to a venue near you and you should see them.

Here's the sched for NorCal locals. I plan to be at the SC show:

May 16 2009 8:00P Slims - San Francisco, California
May 17 2009 8:00P Rio - Santa Cruz, California

Other Lucero links of note:
Lucero's MySpace
Lucero on I Am Fuel, You Are friends

I Heart the Dentist

2009-04-01T12:19:00.000-07:00

I've always held a fervent disdain for dentistry, thinking it one of the worst sorts of torture apart from, you know, real torture. This morning, in the chair, I realized the error of my ways. You see, the Abba song "Dancing Queen" came up on the satellite radio in my dentist's office just before he commenced a Sarah Palin-in-ANWR on my cavity. It was at this very moment I realized the sound of bone removal by power tool--its vibrations echoing through my skull--is actually quite pleasant and preferable to that of the Swedish pop band.

All a matter of perspective.

The Sheer Dramatic Pain of Overly Long and Ostentatious Band Names is Only Mitigated by a Really Good Fucking Record

2009-03-30T17:41:00.000-07:00

Name aside, I'm really digging the '80's shoegazer meets Bowie, Love and Rockets, and Smithyness of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart.

What is your f-ing malfunction?!

2009-03-30T17:29:00.000-07:00

It’s been a rough few weeks, dear reader, on the technological front. And by rough I mean frustrating, really. On the first day of a week-and-a-half long business trip, my computer basically took a shit on me. I couldn’t get online, functionality diminished and my little laptop actually looked a little pale. The IT guys told me it caught a virus or had worms or the gout or something and they needed to clean its clock and reformat it. I WAS able to get all my files onto our server, but reformatting a computer and getting it running the way you want with the programs you want kinda sucks. And, truth to tell, I think the little guy may still be a little sick, but work piles up like a mo’fo I’ve learned and I don’t have time for a virus right now, so I'm runnin' and gunnin come what may.

On top of that I sat on my camera and broke it. During week one of said trip, after a long day on Capitol Hill in DC, my lobbying companions and I decided to take a break outside between appointments. Not wanting to get the ass of my nice suit pants dirty, I brilliantly used my document bag as a buffer and sat on it, forgetting I stowed my camera there for the security screening. Hmmm what was that little snap I just heard? Oh yeah, the sound of $250 being compacted into nothingness.

So without computer and without camera, I’m essentially useless, I’ve learned. Maybe I’m useless with them too…In any case, I hope to rectify the situation soon and commence blathering directly.

Every now and then, justice prevails

2009-03-05T18:39:00.000-08:00

So there I was sitting at the intersection on my bike…a crap crossroads really. A pretty big highway ends and intersects a busy street that’s overrun with motorists, pedestrians, and cyclists. A traffic engineering clusterfuck that’s exacerbated by the light’s long interval, which seems to bring out impatience in even the laid-back-peace-sticker-on-my-biodiesel-Volvo-Santa-Cruz-hippie-types. Even more affected by this traffic-induced time loss are people on the other end of the spectrum—the ones whom are dickheads as a matter of course. They wake up dick nasty, dick the day away and go to sleep in the same dickish manner.

Light green, I proceed forward...but about half way through the intersection, the hair on the back of my neck pulls a “Danger Will Robinson.” For to the right and rear—a space where sound should only be receding by virtue of a mandatory right turn—I feel the approaching Doppler effect of an undermuffled and over-tired bromobile. A peek toward the sound confirms my suspicions and a lifted dickhead wagon—complete with custom laser-cut skull grille—comes flying by in a non-lane then swerves left, cutting me and a steady line of cars off to take his rightful place at the front (see drawing).

To be clear, I actually never felt in danger nor threatened. He passed me on the right with plenty of space and cut in far enough ahead that I could’ve stopped if I needed to. Mostly I was just disappointed that said vehicle—which I believe at one time was a Jeep Grand Cherokee—didn’t have fake gonads hanging from its trailer hitch. The truth is, I keep an ear/eye out for this move as I’ve actually been passed at this same spot in similar manner on a number occasions. Usually, it’s a tourist looking to go up Highway 9 to the state park who got in the wrong lane, are apologetic, confused and use their signal as they give that ThanksI’mReallySorry wave as they peaceably merge. Today’s occasion was just a middle finger all the way around.

Predictably, this afternoon’s maneuver elicited a chorus of car horns…at least two, maybe three--it was the kind of thing where even people in the other direction honked. I joined in by switching gears emphatically—take THAT!—making what I hoped would be a perceptible clickety-clack of outrage towards the driver. This was drowned out by the rumble of a motorcycle from the left…a white and black motorcycle that made me smile.

“Fuck man,” I heard the driver say to the passenger as the penismobile pulled over. “Fuck man indeed,” I thought as the blue and red lights bounced off the brogo covered rear window like the flashing cherry on top of a caramel sundae of a lunch ride.

Happy Square Root Day

2009-03-03T06:30:00.000-08:00

I'm not makin' this shit up.

Song of the (Rainy) Day: Gloomy Planets

2009-03-02T18:22:00.000-08:00

Notwist - Gloomy Planets Live

Coraline: A dark but great escape

2009-02-26T11:48:00.000-08:00

I give it six stars and we saw it in 3D, so I guess that's 18 stars total. The official website is pretty f-ing cool too.

Movie Clip of the Week: Tombstone

2009-02-25T17:25:00.001-08:00

RIP Touch and Go

2009-02-20T10:41:00.000-08:00

Sad news about prolly my favorite record label ever.

Scantastic #1

2009-02-19T17:38:00.000-08:00

My college (and current) friends Chris and Joe have gone on a scanning streak as of late, digitizing numerous photos from our bygone early 1990's era. Here are five of them:

1. Joe and Todd's Apartment - Chicago

The doorway between the minivan and the car was the entry to the storefront apartment Joe shared with Todd at the intersection of Grand and Ogden. We spent alot of time drinking and playing ping-pong in its 1,200 square foot space. It had no interior walls except for Todd's massive record collection and the bathroom. At one point someone slept in a tent inside--John Maybe? On Google Maps, the building looks essentially unchanged, though the left adjacent biker bar is larger.

2. DB in Joe and Todd's Apartment - Chicago

This is the incomparable Dan Berry presumably speaking Fake Italian. Note Joe's bitchin' flute lamp in the background.

3. Indiana Beach State Dunes - Chesterton, Indiana

Here is someone's feet at Indiana Dunes State Park...Chris' I'd guess. Sweet, tight jean shorts.

4. Kettle Moraine State Forest - LaGrange, Wisconsin

This is Joe and I at the Kettle Moraine State Forest in Wisconsin on the first day of hunting season when you probably shouldn't be riding vaguely deer-shaped mountain bikes amongst drunken hunters. We did anyway.

5. Whitten Hall, Illinois State University - Normal, Illinois

This is me attempting to put Toonces the Illegal Dorm Cat into someone's CD player. I was unsuccessful and the kitten was unhurt. Sweet EQ, huh?

Foto Philler

2009-02-18T17:39:00.000-08:00

Just back from the moto tradeshow in Indy and have very little in the way of cool photos...so I thought I'd post some random nothing shots from my camera's memory card which now, inexplicably, seems to have a virus...anywho...

Beer sign lamp from a bar in Indy. Unfortunately they no longer sell the brand.

These are limes.

A hinge on the table edge.

Ice in the fountain.

Mom's homemade ravioli.

Racking up Blackie Onassis

2009-02-05T09:58:00.000-08:00

My good friends at Electra Bikes were kind enough to hook me up with some new accessories for my trusty cruiser bike recently. Named Blackie Onassis--for the Urge Overkill drummer whose stage name is presumably an homage to the former first lady--my cruiser was at one time a bare-bones exercise--a coaster brake single speed in flat black aluminum. Cargo demands led me to add a basket to her, which while functional, never looked nor felt quite right.

Now with the addition of the alloy and wood front cargo tray and the matching wide rear rack, Blackie has been made cargo-worthy, while still retaining it's lo-profile black sleekness. And while my initial cargo hauls have been modest, I'm thinking I can carry three or four six-packs...a paltry capacity by Dutch standards perhaps, but not bad for the U-S-of-A. I'm sure it will be more than adequate for my forays to the library, hardware store, bagel shop and Walgreens.

Big thanks to Chris and Justin and those guys with the funny names down there in Vista, CA making some of the coolest bikes on the planet.

WARNING: This post will take at least an hour

2009-01-29T14:46:00.000-08:00

If you click on the photo above, a new window will appear and load a Gigapan photo of the Obama Inauguration. As I did, you'll probably say to yourself--"Wow, cool photo," or "look at all those people," or "it's like television but not."

Then you'll notice the navigation tools in the upper left hand corner and start to move around and zoom in. And zoom in. And zoom in some more. Pretty soon you'll be trying to read the brand name off some lady's glasses, or laughing at the guy zipping his pants by the porta-potty, or playing 'Find the SWAT Team.' As the post title implies, you will spend at least an hour doing this--it cannot be helped and I apologize.

You'll then ponder whether it is an amazing co-mingling of optics and technology, or a peek into our Sinister Surveillance Society. Both, I suspect, but also the source of some yuks, to which I submit the following:

President Clinton staring at the twins is too obvious, so I'll just give props to George the First on the headgear--I think he can see Sara Palin's house with that hat on.

Come on Justice Thomas--stay awake for a brotha!

It just ain't a party unless Sasquatch shows up.

"Dis' me all you want terrorist guy--I'm still The Decider."

You never see Mrs. Butterworth and Aunt Jemimah in the same place at the same time. Coincidence?

"Great seats, my ass! A $10k donation and all I get is a splitting headache, Willard Scott yapping in my ear and hair gel that smells like bird shit!"

A fino salvo from North Holland

2009-01-28T15:40:00.000-08:00

One of the coolest things I've ever done on a bike. Seriously.

Blue river, red lights.

Yours truly peeing al fresco. Photo by Warren.

Imagine how big this would have to be to house that many cars.

Detouring Amsterdam on Bikes

2009-01-21T08:35:00.000-08:00

The things we pass off as work some days...

Randamsterdam Photos

2009-01-20T22:40:00.000-08:00

They have alot of __________ in Amsterdam

2009-01-20T12:24:00.000-08:00

CATS...this one is as large as a bull.

CHEESE - Ummm cheese.

PROSTITUTES - Note the red lights.

GANJA - For the whitest Rastas you've ever seen.

BIKES - Though I've not seen one with a helmeted rider.

Amsterdammmit!

2009-01-19T09:35:00.001-08:00

The buildings in Amsterdam list every which way.

We had Warren cloned and made into an army of supermodels.

A barge-o-bikes!

A wary Eli shields his cappuccino from a Dutch cat probably named Cappuccino.

Well the sign does sort of indicate that's how a bike should be stowed.

It's just a little simpler than "Netherlanders."

Number Six free at last

2009-01-14T10:51:00.001-08:00

Rest in peace, Number Six. And thank you.

Score!

2009-01-09T10:47:00.000-08:00

I just found this in my bag here at work! Yum!

Bumper Sticker of the Week

2009-01-07T08:52:00.000-08:00

I'm not much for bumper stickers. Particularly here in Santa Cruz where the highest form of expression appears to be the Bumper Sticker Manifesto. Ugh. This one made me laugh, however, and I pass it along to you dear reader.

Chicago Christmas Parting Shots

2008-12-31T09:30:00.000-08:00

Family friends Ryan (left, with toy motorbikes) and Zac are bundled to immobility and massive cuteness.

Though the pic is a bit unflattering, my mom's ravioli (made w/homemade noodles) rock.

Frank Gehry's Pritzker Pavillion band shell in Millenium Park is cool...but his Dancing House may be cooler.

Smallish Chicago coffee chain--for now anyway--Intelligentsia has awesome coffee.

In homage to A Christmas Story, I licked 'the Bean'...but did not stick a la Flick.

Winter Wonderland in Chicago

2008-12-24T20:30:00.000-08:00

Sunny as it may look, clear equals cold on days like this. Three degrees to be exact.

It was so cold, this bull froze in place after wandering out of the stockyards.

Apparently Chicago pigeons are smarter than the livestock.

Awaiting beam-up from the Chicago Cultural Center's lobby.

The north dome of the Cultural Center...not to be confused with the North Pole.

Polly Jean Harvey and the mystery of my barometric iPod

2008-12-23T09:52:00.001-08:00

Looks like we have a strong winter PJ Harvey in the jet stream this week.

I'm convinced my iPod has hidden powers that are not disclosed in any instructions, mentioned in any online FAQ, nor even talked about in the halls of the Cupertino Mothership. I think they're so under-the-radar that nobody knows but me…and the guy who enabled these powers. I envision some clever engineer burying hidden features—Easter Eggs—deep in the hardware/software architecture, self-sworn to secrecy until a safe old age wherein the culprit will make a confession to his grandchildren…

"I remember back before they implanted your entire music collection in the cerebral cortex when people use gigantic devices—MP3 players—to store their music. I worked for Apple you know…"

"Yes Gramps, and dinosaurs roamed the earth…you've told us a million times."

"Yeah well your old gramps has a secret that nobody ever found out about. I taught the iPod to think! It sensed people's moods…it made measure of political climates…it even reacted to the weather! THEN it would play the perfect song for such circumstances! It was unheard of…and I made it happen all without anyone knowing! It was genius I tell you!"

"Yeah, yeah gramps…whatevs."

And while the kids of 2043 may not believe it, I'm thoroughly convinced. I've often noticed that my iPod goes into a subdued melancholy mood when it's raining. It kicks in to an excited frenzy en route to happy events. Other times it almost seems to serve up commentary on current events as if it were tuned to news radio.

Case-in-point, during last Monday's nasty rain storm with the war and the economy and the general fuckedupness of everything on my mind—the Pod conjured Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On." This is one of the great anti-war-what-the-hell-is-up-with-society songs of all time, the album cover of which features Mr. Gaye standing in what appears to be a downpour wearing a rain coat! The band Lucero followed with "Here at the Starlight," a song so desolately heartbroken and lonely you feel hallow by osmosis. Next was the Weakerthans ode to urban decline amidst the grey of winter called "One Great City," a tale about the slow death of Winnipeg, a Canadian metropolis struggling with long-term economic and social depression.

Conversely, on Saturday's drive up to ride mountain bikes at Demo—a genuinely cheery occasion—it was Parts and Labor's upbeat and sunny "Nowhere Nigh" followed by the Talking Heads' undeniably comfortable "Naïve Melody," finished up by Buffalo Tom's "Tangerine," a song that actually produces delicious, easy-to-peel citrus fruit!

A couple weeks ago I happened to turn on the local news radio station to hear a grim report about storms and landslides in Southern California. When they rolled in to an extended commercial break of mattress stores, jewelry shops and medicated powders, I pre-empted with the iPod. The first song to shuffle up—Peter Gabriel's "Here Comes the Flood."

I know what you're thinking…that I'm just selectively remembering the tracks that fit the situation. Or that it's all just coincidental. But something so specific happened on Tuesday night that I'm absolutely sure of the iPods predictive powers. As I rearranged things in the yard to start work on a garage project, a freaky little sprint of a storm pelted me with freezing rain/hail. It was the kind of precip that was ice cold yet burnt the skin at the same time. The wind kicked up and got bitter and cutting…almost Midwestern. It felt a bit painful, yes, but real too…like winter should, I thought.

The sting still on my face as I entered the shelter of the garage, I pondered what might be the musical match for such conditions. I powered up the stereo and hit 'Shuffle Songs' on the iPod for the answer.

The best "Rid of Me" I could find online doesn't match the intensity of the original recording, but you get the idea.

The slow guitar build of PJ Harvey's "Rid of Me" started drizzling from the speakers, slowly turning into a steady, cold rain as the rhythm increased to meet Polly Jean's subdued voice. The pleading backing vocals kick-in quiet-but-cold at first—"Lick my legs, I'm on fire; Lick my legs, I'm on fire"—giving way to a few more angry lines from Polly until the chorus rips in, guitars and drums and vocals blasting in an angry, cold, biting hail that burns like frozen rain on the face—"DON'T YOU, DON'T YOU WISH YOU, NEVER, NEVER MET HER," she screams. Her voice re-quiets then shifts to a wicked shrill the way a gust of cold wind runs through the formality of clothing until building it all up for another round of chorus that dies with an anguished reprise of "Lick my legs." After which, I assume, an exhausted and near-frozen PJ retreats to the relative shelter of her garage.

It's minus 33 degrees...

2008-12-22T21:49:00.000-08:00

It's minus 33 degrees...good thing my brother is well insulated.

It's minus 33 degrees...which can instantly freeze your face.

It's minus 33 degrees...so I think I'll skip the giant sundae on the right.

It's minus 33 degrees...but not at the center of a Superdawg's pure beef heart.

[Actual temperature -9 degrees Farenheit, wind chill index -33]

What you won’t find at Z Pottery Barrel

2008-12-15T18:02:00.001-08:00

I'm a sucker for old junk. Especially so when it isn't that junky…and when they put a bunch of it all in one place as they do for the ginormous Antiques by the Bay dealeo…a monthly event out on Alameda Island that we went to last weekend.

Though I like old stuff, I've never particularly embraced the concept of 'antiquing.' The word itself grates me on a number of levels as well as conjures visions of sneezing, wheezing and expectorating wildly as I have an allergic reaction to the prerequisite fog of potpourri as we go from quaint overpriced store to quaint overpriced store. They also tend to have lots of doilies and I hate those things.

As Antiques by the Bay is so large that it's actually held on the runway of a former US Naval Air Station, indoor allergens aren't so much of a problem…though blustery weather can be. The upside of which is that if there were any doilies they'd been blown away by the time I got there.

I managed to coerce Troy—aka friend with a big pickup truck—to accompany Stacy, Shannan, Brock (Shannan's 16-month-old) and I to the sale under the ruse that it would be a Moab trip reunion and that there are really cool old hand tools there.

Running late because of errant power lines across the freeway, Shannan and Brock ended up driving separately and meeting us there. Troy, Stacy and I had been looking around for about 20 minutes—and actually already split off in different directions—when I got a call from Shannan saying they had just parked and could I watch the Brocster as soon as they got inside because she had to pee. I agreed, of course, but began to wonder if the little man would put up a fuss…I see Shannan every day at work, but I'd only 'met' Brock once when he was like a month old…wouldn't he cry or scream when he had to hang out with this stranger?

Brock eyes me with a contemptuous "Whatchu talkin 'bout Willis?" stare as he sizes me up.

As you can see above, 'lil' Brock (actually BIG Brock…at 16 months, he's the size of a two-year-old) looked a little perturbed with the situation but in a manner far beyond his years…er months…he made the most of a strange situation and found common ground—Look! A naked lady!

We we're pretty much buds from this moment on.

After Shannan regained a comfortable bladder disposition, we all regrouped briefly and managed to splinter off again. Stacy and I were looking for some furnishings and eclectica for our nearly-completed new garage space—specifically I had it in my head that I might be able to find an old industrial or agricultural cart to convert into a coffee table. Fleetingly, I had seen such a cart in an antique store window on a recent trip to Portland and did a web search for one when I got home. The only one I could find was this cotton bale cart from a store called NapaStyle that cost $650 + $150 shipping…ouch! I call NapaBullShit.

I figured MAYBE if I was lucky I might be able to find some iron wheels or hardware at the antique thing with which I could make my own cart using some rough lumber. Best case, I thought, perhaps I might be able to find something similar…something with that sorta 'rustic re-use' ethos embodied in it. I honestly didn't think I had much chance of finding an actual cart.

Cracklin' with radioactive goodness, everyone should have a Geiger counter.

Hopes-in-head, away I went and the first thing that caught my eye was an old Geiger counter. In addition to having that swanky Cold War feel to it, this particular unit had the coolest font on its gauge. At $35 though, I felt it was a bit steep for something that didn't work (was missing its probe) and might actually be radioactive, so I moved on. In retrospect it would make a cool door handle…or something.

Rusty California milk comes from rusty California cows and into rusty...well you get the idea.

Next to catch my eye was a giant orange rusty milk can. I had no particular need nor want for such a thing, but I liked its patina and shape. I liked its orangeness and bigness. After a smidge of haggling I liked its price too—$20. Done Deal.

Before the computer there was type. I heart the type.

One of the booths had all kinds of cool printing press letters as well as typewriter keys that you could fashion into jewelry and the like. Stacy ended up getting some typewriter letters and I got a "Don" work shirt patch. Two of 'em actually—a buck a piece.

With two Dons and a buck...well, at least you got a buck.

A couple years ago I bought an old clay olive jar, drilled a hole in the bottom and made a fountain for our backyard out of it. While disassembling it for the garage project a couple months ago, I dropped and destroyed the jar (though I can't bring myself to throw the pieces away). Fortunately, I found this beauty for the low low negotiated price of $30 which initially made me feel pretty thrifty. Then I added it to the cost of the one I broke and it comes out to $110.

I'll try not to drop this one. Doh!

A few aisles later I nearly wet myself. For there it was—the very object of my desire—the old as dirt industrial cart! But it was kinda buried…used more as a display table for other stuff more than an object on its own merit. There was at least 20 other THINGS either on it or leaning against, pinned behind it or otherwise supported by it.

Excitedly I looked it over…cast iron hardware…wheels and corner buckles…the top was just plywood, but I could get some planks. Where is the price tag? How much is it?! Everything else here has a price tag--$90 for a stop sign?! Are you serious?! Where is the seller…are you the seller? You are? How much for the cart?

"Well I was just going to sell it to these women for $100 but they said they'd think about it and maybe come back. I think it came from one of the canneries. Tell you what…if you give me $90 right now, you can have it."

"I got $80."

Grumble. Grumble. "Ok! It's yours!"

I'm not one to get excited about shopping, I generally loathe it but I was fucking excited! Yep…forty year old white guy here…getting his yayas by finding shit at an antique sale…that's me!

The much sought-after cart at rest in the front yard. Is that a halo?

After the adrenaline wore off, we loaded the behemoth of a cart (it must weigh 150 pounds) into Troy's truck…the truck where Troy had retreated to earlier to warm himself. We all regrouped and Shannan hit Brock in the head with a picture frame (accidentally). He cried for about a minute then forgot about it and went back to being his smiley happy little kid self.

We then retreated to the mainland—Oakland—where I treated to Zachary's Chicago Style Pizza which could have used a little more sausage, but was—all-in-all—a pretty good end to a pretty good day.

Brockman prefers PB&J and applesauce to pizza now...but he'll learn.

This post rated 'P' for poo

2008-12-10T14:34:00.000-08:00

Hopefully our new office will have lockers with doors. And no, I didn't write the note, but I definitely concur...and I have a pretty good idea of who they belong to.

Cold Steel on Ivy:

2008-12-08T16:28:00.000-08:00

Finally a team worth watching at Wrigley

I saw a commercial yesterday for quite literally the coolest thing to ever happen in Wrigley Field—the Chicago Blackhawks will play the Detroit Red Wings in the NHL’s Winter Classic on New Year’s Day. That’s daytime outdoor Original Six pro hockey in the Ivory Covered Baseball Palace in the Midwest in the winter. Totally fucking cool.

NBC's cool promo for the Winter Classic on New year's Day 2009.

Not only will it be a welcome reprieve from the NYD deluge of overhyped college bowl games, but it’ll be gratifying to see some teams worth watching in one of pro sports’ Houses of the Holies (you know, aside from the White Sox who beat down the Cubs in Interleague play a couple times a year).

In the bigger picture for Blackhawk fans, the Winter Classic may be the beacon of new era in franchise history as the team continues its recovery from the tightfisted downward-spiral ownership of William “Dollar Bill” Wirtz who died last year of cancer.

Already, much-loved Blackhawk greats like Stan Mikita, Bobby Hull and Phil Espozito are back actively supporting the team after years of quiet boycott under Dollar Bill. In short order, the team’s new first-in-command, Bill’s son Rocky, has dismantled many of his dad’s policies that repelled the Blackhawk faithful—for the first time since the ‘70’s you can see Hawks games on free TV, beloved play-by-play announcer Pat Foley is back in the fold on TV and radio, and they even acknowledge the fan with an annual Blackhawks Fan Convention that was inexplicably verboten under Dollar Bill. The great Wayne Mesmer may even return to belt out the National Anthem over the pandemonium of Hawk fan um...enthusiasm.

The two best NHL games I caught on TV this year were epic battles between the Sharks and the Hawks. On the ice, the Hawks are looking way more promising than squads of the recent past with a mix young players like Patrick Kane, Jonathan Toews and Patrick Sharp along with veterans on defense like Brian Campbell and Nikolai Khabibulin in net.

Note that the players bleed red--not teal--even in NHLPA '91 for Sega-Genesis.

And though I’ve become a bit of a fair weather Sharks fan given their impressive start this year (unbelievable, really) , I’ll always be a Hawks fan at heart. Original Six old school yada, yada aside, I'll take the red and black unis over teal every time.
-----
Long form classic Pat Foley here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FslKdCLMoLw

Hood Ornament of the Week

2008-12-03T10:00:00.000-08:00

I gotta get me one of them Nekos for the Mazda.

Did I mention I like chickens?

2008-11-26T21:44:00.000-08:00

Technical Illustration of the Week

2008-11-26T10:52:00.000-08:00

From: Don P
Date: Wed, 26 Nov 2008 10:08:47 -0800
To: Dennis F, J.T. W, Jeff S, Jeffrey G, Troy D,, David E, Erik S, Dan A

Subject: Got scaffold?

Hello neighborhood handymens-

The Garagemajah is moving along nicely and I have the Thanksgiving task of priming and painting the sheetrocked interior (which in addition to the upper respiratory issue I’m battling will preclude me from any cool bike rides this weekend). Part of that includes a ceiling that slopes from 8-13 feet, a tiny bit above my natural reach. I am renting a sprayer for the job, but a smallish scaffold/walkboard that goes between two ladders or a multi ladder that configures into a scaffold would be ideal. Would any of you gentlemen have such an apparati that I could borrow for a couple days…and that I could pick up tonight?
Lemme know!
Thanks,
Don

-------

From: Troy D
Sent: Wednesday, November 26, 2008 10:33 AM
To: Don P
Subject: Re: Got scaffold?

I drew you a picture of how to make a simple scaffolding out of two ladders, but then I got kind of distracted.

Troy D
TopDog Illustration
http://www.topdogillustration.com

11-26 is Jamal Smith Day

2008-11-26T10:36:00.000-08:00

Photo Phlurry: Portland/Seattle 11.10-12.08

2008-11-13T14:11:00.000-08:00

A quick biz trip to rainy but beautiful Portlands and Seattles.

Love is all around. No on 8.

Dart-tastic wagon.

Clever Cycles indeed.

Blurry in Seattle.

Alberto the Accountant!

2008-11-04T15:19:00.000-08:00

Cyclists at the Gun Show--Palermini v. Contador. Results unavailable because of pay-per-view agreement.

Big visitor in the office today...Spainard Alberto Contador stopped by for a little product feedback and company meet-and-greet today. Contador (which means 'accountant' in Spanish and thusly is the inspiration for the Palin-esque title of today's election day post) has won all three of cycling's Grand Tours within the last two years--the Giro d' Italia and Vuelta a Espana this year, and the Tour de France last year--an feat which places him among the legends of the sport. Only Jacques Anquetil (1963), Felice Gimondi (1968), Eddy Merckx (1973) and Bernard Hinault in (1980) have matched the achievement--and attaining it in the modern era of race specialization makes Contador's bid all the more remarkable.

Though he speaks marginal English (much more acceptably than I speak Spanish), he comes across as humble, grateful and endearing...not to mention very young (25), and waifishly thin (if we actually did arm wrestle, I might have broken his arm).

I work at a cool place.

You know your costume sucks when...

2008-10-31T15:44:00.000-07:00

...the picture of you in your costume needs post-production work to explain itself.

Look ma--I'm in a video game!

And even then everybody is like "Yeah, I think I remember that..."

For the record, I was Bif this year...a character from Toobin'--the best video game ever. You know, the one where you float down the river in an inner tube and throw pop cans at hippos and snakes and indians trying to shoot arrows at you? And then you get into the sewer and punk rock dudes in mohawks throw bottles at you as you try to avoid toxic waste spills? Not ringing a bell? Wikipedia that shit and see what you're missing.

Also for the record, I had a way better costume that got doomed by its seasonal nature...with a little planning, maybe next year.

Laurel--deadly hot even without the beer steins.

Despite my lameness, there were a number of excellent costumes in the workplace this year. Laurel gets big props for actually importing a Heidi outfit from Germany and foregoing the usual amount of air she recirculates in the average day all for the sake of fashion.

From cubemates to roommates. The winning entry.

The winning entry was actually a group effort from Shannan, Simon and Andrea as the housemates from the sitcom Three's Company. Not surprisingly a girl in short shorts elicited a number of visits from creepy office Larrys.

Get it now? How 'bout now? It's a chicken...and it's on a cord...and I'm wearing blue...

One of our newer hires--an engineer named Greg--came up with the strange "Chicken Cord on Blue." I forgive him...he's an engineer and a really nice guy.

Burgess Meredith eat your heart out. Molly F waddles the waddle.

The most crafty award goes to Molly F who wove her penguin costume out of yarn. Though you can't really see it in the pic, she made the wings and the hat. Very cool. She has a rad lobster outfit from last year too.

Greg is not Moses. Did moses have snakes on his staff? I think not.

Greg gets into Halloween pretty big and this year's fallen-wizard-that-really-looks-more-like Moses costume was pretty good. Nothing he does will ever trump the hula girl from a few years back though. Him having a serious negotiation in the conference room with our German distributor while wearing coconuts on his boobs is a visual I will always cherish.

Why BMX Rules

2008-10-31T09:39:00.000-07:00

Into The Void Trailer from Shadow Conspiracy on Vimeo.

Moms say the darndest things

2008-10-24T11:35:00.000-07:00

Gwen at the Stanford Sculpture Garden upon her last visit.
----------
From: Gwen
Sent: Monday, October 20, 2008 12:08 PM
To: Don P
Subject: Hello & ?
----------
Hi,

Hope you are doing well. All is well here. I go to Texas on Thursday.

Just to jog your memory. Do you remember the name of the nun, that gave you and Tony such a hard time about red shoe laces in your boots?

Saw her in the grocery today, didn't speak to her 'cause I couldn't remember her name. I know her Mom does or did live in the area, so don't know if she is back at St. Lad's.

If you remember let me know.

Love,
Mom
----------
This made me laugh. And it was Sister Elaine. Of course.

Juvenile video of the week

2008-10-24T09:49:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know. It's low-brow. But it made me laugh like Beavis & Butthead.

Utah Trip 2008: Day 8

2008-10-16T18:48:00.000-07:00

DAY EIGHT BOX SCORE:
Ride: Hazzard County, Kokopelli, UPS, LPS, Porcupine Rim
Quote of the day: "So, you're not against gay marriage, you just don't want to participate in the sex?" - unknown (Editors note: Vote No on Prop H8)
Coffee shop of the day: Love Muffin

Shuttle driver extrodinarre Kyle of Acme Shuttles loadin' up bikes.

Shannan happy and sad. Happy because this is super fun. Sad because it's almost over.

Silly horseplay in Jackass Canyon.

Troy get's extra medium air off the final kicker.

I think this might be a rap video, I'm not sure.

2008 Utah Trip: Day 7

2008-10-15T18:20:00.000-07:00

DAY SEVEN BOX SCORE
Rides: Sovereign (Troy & Shannan), Amasa Back (Don & Stacy)
Quote of the day: "You gonna make a breakfast sandwich outta THAT?" - the dentist from Santa Rosa
Mechanic of the day: Dustin at Poison Spider

My morning consisted of much fiddling with this to keep the non-drive crank arm from falling off.

Stacy slays the steps that start Amasa Back.

A snapshot doesn't do justice to Amasa Back's top-of-the-world view.

Self-timer action...Amasa foreground, the La Sals in the way back.

And they have this really lovely potash plant down on the river.

2008 Utah Trip: Day 6

2008-10-14T12:31:00.000-07:00

DAY SIX BOX SCORE
Bike Rides: Baby Steps and Amasa Back
Bummer of the day: Don's crank arm melt down
Quote of the Day: "Shannan had EPO for breakfast." - Troy
Quote of the Day 2: "Seriously? You'd hit that shit?" - Shannan
Animal of the day: The old retired German-Canadian dude

The rollers on Baby Steps ain't for babies. Stacy rocks it.

Shannan gets extraterrestrial at UFO Rock on Baby Steps.

I really did ride some too.

MmmmmmMiltshake. Good goin down, farty goin out.

Troy in the late day sun on Amasa Back.

Shannan's hunting-themed, paint-by-number Vans.

2008 Utah Trip: Day 5

2008-10-13T22:20:00.000-07:00

DAY FIVE BOX SCORE
Today's bike ride: Hazard County, Kokopelli, UPS, LPS, Porcupine Rim
Best quote: "Did you come here to complain or ride?" Kyle the shuttle driver

Just some good old boys...

10,000 feet up.

The General Lee has seen better days.

Gnarage.

2008 Utah Trip: Day 4

2008-10-13T21:40:00.000-07:00

DAY FOUR BOX SCORE
Today's bike ride: (Not so) Flat Pass, Moab, Utah
Best riding pals: Stacy, Shannan and Troy
Coolest animal sighting: The puppy at the bike shop that chases window reflections

Steelbender is what the Jeepers call Flat Pass. Yeah they're kinda tougher.

You wouldn't make it up either.

TD gettin' medium air.

I met the Duke. He was a bit stiff, I have to say.

Troy enjoys getting a temporary tramp stamp.

2008 Utah Trip: Day 3

2008-10-11T21:05:00.000-07:00

DAY THREE BOX SCORE
From/to: Boulder, Utah to Moab, Utah
Driving mileage: 219 miles in 4 hours

National Parks: Capitol Reef NP

Today's bike ride: Sovereign Singletrack, Moab, Utah
Best random iPod segue: "Let the Good Times Roll" The Cars => "Good Life" Kanye West
Coolest animal sighting: Petroglyph Goats (below)

The German toursists really like the petroglyphs in Capitol Reef NP.

Umm, there was this big boat...on blocks...in the desert.

You know, Hanksville? They got the gas station in the hollow mountain there.

Some steep and tricky climbing on Sovereign.

2008 Utah Trip: Day 2

2008-10-10T18:48:00.000-07:00

DAY TWO BOX SCORE

From/to: Springdale, Utah to Boulder, Utah

Driving Mileage: 89

National Parks: Zion; Bryce Canyon

Today's bike ride: Thunder Mountain in Panguitch, Utah

Coolest coffee shop name: The Mean Bean, Springdale, Utah

Coolest animal sighting: Bison

Apparently Chevy Impalas are not allowed on the trail.

Stacy rails a turn on Thunder Mountain.

Self-portrait of my self-decorated new helmet.

Tibetan prayer flags rustlin' in the wind.

Stacy bewildered that the oil can is not a trash can.

Hell's Backbone Grill. Some of the best grub on the planet. Yes, Please.

2008 Utah Trip: Day 1

2008-10-09T20:50:00.001-07:00

Today Stacy and I departed on our annual pilgrimage to the mountain biking Mecca of Moab, Utah. As planned we hit the road at 7a.m. and sailed to our destination of Springdale, Utah just outside of Zion National Park in just under 11 hours, stops included. Our only traffic was in Las Vegas and it wasn't really that bad. Tommorow we head to Red Canyon just outside of Bryce NP and will ride the one of world's most beautiful trails--Thunder Mountain.

Saturday we roll into Utah and will pick a trail when we get there...we also will hook up with the other half of our party--Troy and Shannan. With the 24 Hours of Moab going on, there's sure to be some reconnects with fun industry friends. Here's the box score and some clicks...more tommorow if the Interwebs cooperates.

-Don

DAY ONE BOX SCORE
From/to: San Jose, Calif. to Springdale, Utah
Mileage: 691 ~MPG: 24 (not bad with bikes at 80mph)
Time: 10 hours, 58 minutes (including stops)
Tumbleweeds obliterated: 3 (They shatter! It's really cool.)
Coolest road names: Main Drain Road, Merle Haggard Blvd.
Coolest town name: Carp, Nev.
Coolest animal sighting: Ostritch

Gas stop #1 near Gilroy. The bikes are filled with excitement.

Stacy munchin' a bunch of lunch. Note the sign in the background.

Looks like Union 76 stole the Urge Overkill logo. Bastards.

Now that's a proper sign. Bun Boy, Baker, Calif.

A cloud and two shells at sunset, Hurricane, Utah

Pioneer Lodge in Springdale, Utah. Because, you know, the pioneers stayed in kitchy motels all the time.

Bikes = Love

2008-10-03T18:23:00.001-07:00

I built up Shannan's new bike and she left me a delightfully workplace inappropriate heart note.

(I would have added a photo of the bike, but I think she took off on it!)

Cubs meltdown eminent

2008-10-02T22:00:00.000-07:00

I really did mean to post this before the playoffs started...

Yes, the White Sox squeezed into the playoffs by a scant one run, and yes they are the most inconsistent, least deserving playoff team with the second worst record of all the playoff teams who avoided a catastrophic end-of-season collapse by the narrowest of margins. And yes, I would love to see the Chi Sox sweep the Cubs in the World Series, but it ain't gonna happen. Neither team will be there, BUT I can guarantee you this...the Sox will make it further than the Cubs, maybe only a game or two longer, but longer none the less. Them Cubs are cursed.

P0rntastic Thursday

2008-10-02T16:28:00.000-07:00

I don't do Diesel myself, but this is pretty good.

MBV: Loveless in SF, 9-30-08

2008-10-01T19:42:00.000-07:00

Big Black Monday

2008-09-29T16:24:00.000-07:00

To-do list: Zombiewalk

2008-09-17T13:36:00.000-07:00

So there we were driving back through Vancouver to catch a flight home from our quick biz trip trip to Whistler, BC when--stopped at a light--I noticed a large gathering of people in front of the Vancouver Art Gallery.

At least I thought they were people.

Zombies on the loose in Vancouver. Cool.

Turns out they were the undead. Zombies to be precise.

Apparently, there is a worldwide phenomenon of these so-called Zombiewalks, wherein anybody who wants to participate puts on their best fake blood and Gothy makeup, meets at a centralized point, then stomps around making groany noises. Fucking brilliant. I want to do it and it looks like San Fran has at least one according to (of course) zombiewalk.com.

The picture above is one I hastily snapped as we pulled away and therefore not very good. The vid below gives you a better feel for what it's like.

So who's in?

PS - This video from San Francisco Zombie Mob is pretty good too.

Garage Artifact #1

2008-09-15T17:39:00.001-07:00

I found this ginormous Husker Du Zen Arcade poster rolled up in a tube. I think it originally hung in my dorm room at ISU, then at home when I moved back in with the folks.

And so the mayhem begins

2008-09-13T15:15:00.000-07:00

As you can see from the slideshow, deconstruction of our garage began today much to the chagrin of the rodents who called it home. Barring any major hiccups, we should be down to the slab by quitting time today, and Monday they start in on the concrete demo. I'm feeling Bob Vila-esque. Monday I'll be Mr. Slate.

In closing, I'd like to wish the old garage and carport all the best--except for the the doors that were too small, and the sauna-like climate, and the fiberglass roof that leaked like crazy, and the colony of pooptastic rats, and the roll-up door that faced the yard, and the huge gap in the back wall, and the moldy mold, and the lack of lights, and peeling paint, and all the shit the previous owners left--you were a good old bike shed.

Strange Destination #1

2008-09-12T17:40:00.000-07:00

Random hidden church along Highway 17. I think somebody lives there. I mean someone besides Jesus.

Personal archeology of the not-too-distant past

2008-09-08T10:59:00.000-07:00

Science has shown junk reproduces at will in the garage.

It’s now been three Sundays in a row that I’ve spent all day cleaning out the garage in preparation for its demolition and replacement. The first Sunday was probably the most fun because I unearthed all this cool stuff I forgot I had—I especially liked the photos, what’s left of my old train set and the vast collection of obsolete and/or defunct bike parts.

The second week, things got a bit more business-like, but still fun-ish…listening to eons-old mix tapes, enjoying the unique cast of characters that having a free yard sale attracts (try it and you’ll see what I mean) and throwing pieces of wood javelin-style across the yard were the highlights. There was also lots of blocking and tackling…organizing, reorganizing…trashing and recycling, as you’d expect.

There was another 'f' originally, but somebody took it.

The third week…well, you just want it to be done with. You keep asking yourself how come that box of junk doesn’t sort itself out? How many times am I going to trip over that rake before I pick it up? What the fuck did I ever need a 10 pound bucket of hot-dipped galvanized nails for? Is it healthy that my snot is black from dust when I blow my nose?

Need any paint? Sealer? Raid? Fertilizer? Stain?

But still, fun manages to rear its awesome head even when you’re over the whole thing. I unearthed an unmarked cassette, dusted it off and snapped it into the mono portable tape deck that plays at delightfully random, variable speeds and hit play. The next four plus minutes I spent blissed out spinning in circles in the middle of the garage listening to Yo La Tengo’s “Detouring America With Horns.” I had goosebumps the entire time. I completely forgot that song existed and that I love it. And that it reminds me of my first trip to California.

I also found my favorite trophy ever. It’s from the 1989 Pontiac (Ill.) Triathlon, a rather untraditional team triathlon that has one person run, the other bike and both canoe (yes canoe—only in Central Illinois).

Pontiac '89: A trophy with a purpose.

I did said race with Steve Speckman, a dorm mate of mine at the time, and after the first two stages, we looked like Olympians. Steve won the run, turning in a sub-18 minute 5k and by the time I got done with the bike we were ahead of the entire field by 10 minutes.

Then we got in the canoe.

For whatever reason Steve and I never really talked about the canoe part before the race. Steve grew up on the Kankakee River—one of the best paddling rivers in the state—and it was my natural assumption that he knew his way around a J-stroke. Steve revealed to me post-race that he thought I had been a Boy Scout (nope) with mad outdoor skills, canoeing among them (nope). Though my mom and I used to rent rowboats and go fishing, I’d never ever been in a canoe. I quickly learned how much easier a rowboat is to handle.

As the crow flies, the canoe portion was two-and-a-half miles to the turn-around and another 2.5 back to the finish line. I’m fairly certain we paddled at least twice that far. Heading upstream in our clapped-out behemoth of a rental canoe, Steve and I zigged and zagged against the current with little control. We yelled at each other like a pair of magpies as we ran aground to the left…and to the right…and to the left again.

It wasn’t long before boats began passing us—beautiful opaque fiberglass boats with pilots that made it all look effortless. At first it was just a boat every now and then…by the turn-around we were getting passed wholesale.

At one point, I’d actually considered jumping in the river and pushing the boat with a whip kick. It certainly would have been faster, but given the cold weather, so would hypothermia.

Miraculously we made it back to the finish—and without tipping over. Because all the real canoeing talent was in nice boats, we managed to place second in the stock boat division and were presented with the coolest trophies ever—home made benches straight outta woodshop with our achievement painted crudely on them.

Though it’s been buried in the garage for a while now, the bench brings a smile to my face every time I step on it to reach high shelves or take a seat on it to work on a drivetrain. Though I’ve been in purge mode throughout the garage process, this is one item I think I’ll hang onto.

I'll miss this hosebib.

Given the sheer volume of photos and curiosities, I imagine the garage contents will provide blog fodder for some time, assuming I make the time to chronicle it all. Expect more weirdness.

Setting the record straight

2008-09-04T17:04:00.000-07:00

I admit it. I'm weak. I can only take politics with a spoonful of sarcastic sugar these days. I tried to watch the RNC but those self-serving fucking liars make me sick. Not that I cared for the Disney parade that was the DNC much either, but at least it didn't make me physically wretch.

PS - This was priceless:

If I only had a few extra bucks...

2008-08-28T15:34:00.000-07:00

Excerpted from the Santa Cruz Sentinel

Marianne's Ice Cream shop up for sale
Sentinel staff report

Article Launched: 08/28/2008 12:13:56 PM PDT

Sam Lieberman, who has run Marianne's Ice Cream for 50 years, wants to retire, so he's put the business up for sale. The price: $1.4 million.

The shop at 1020 Ocean St. has a huge following, with 122 of 175 reviewers on Yelp.com giving it the top rating of five stars.

Share your experience at Marianne's with Sentinel reporter Jondi Gumz at jgumz@santacruzsentinel.com.

For sale listing

How very Marvin the Paranoid Android

2008-08-28T08:53:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday Prosciutto!

2008-08-19T19:25:00.001-07:00

Saturday was the one year ownership anniversary of Prosciutto, my 2004 Vespa GT200. I waxed about it loquaciously in this post. Fourty-five hundred miles later, were now good good friends solidifyling the relationship with our three-to-four times weekly commute of about 70 miles round trip...not to mention the numerous fun weekend forays when I'm neglecting my bicycles.

Now if you wouldn't mind singing along...a-one anda-two...Happy Birth-day (louder!)...

You like-a de jersey, no?

2008-08-11T11:39:00.000-07:00

Only the Italians could get away with using the Chop Suey font (or is it Bonsai Regular?) on their Olympic uniforms. And as tacky as this jersey is—I want one.

Mortgage Crisis widens, Middle Earth in foreclosure

2008-08-11T08:36:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought the real estate thing couldn't get any worse, this happens. Shocker.

This is pretty amazing

2008-08-06T17:07:00.000-07:00

More details here.

Happy B-day 'Lil' Tiger

2008-08-05T10:45:00.000-07:00

Jim Szczupaj (pronounced shoe-pie) is my Original Friend. He turned 39 today. He is the cute little tiger on the left, I'm Superman on the right and I think that's Christine Peretti in the middle. We all have paper lunch bags.

Critical Mashed

2008-08-02T22:54:00.000-07:00

As a cyclist, I have mixed feelings on the whole Critical Mass phenomenon. While I agree with the message, I know nobody ever changed my mind by antagonizing the crap out of me--no matter how right they were. Maybe I'm just not the punk I once was, but the idea of Courteous Mass seems like a much more effective tactic.

But that's beside this point. On a recent Critical Mass ride in New York city, a rider was intentionally creamed by a cop who dropped his shoulder and unleashed a viscious football-like hit on him. Naturally, the rider was charged in the incident and held in jail for 26 hours. Then a videotape emerged which appears to contradict the police report...

Now the officer in question has been suspended from active duty and put on a civilian desk job while the incident is investigated....you know, because it's so difficult to see what happened.

Many people have called for the officer's dismissal. I actually think he should be required to keep his job...and complete the same football-style hit to whatever is coming by that same spot during rush hour.

Paul ain't dead

2008-07-28T12:31:00.000-07:00

Former Replacements frontman/superhero Paul Westerberg has released a rambling lo-fi effort called 49:00 that's available on-line for the bargain basement price of 49 cents...all, apparently, in honor of his 49th birthday (yes, we are all getting old, aren't we).

In any case, Paul farting is worth 49 cents, so go buy it...now :
http://studio.tunecore.com/store/product/47

Dan Deacon is insane

2008-07-24T19:42:00.000-07:00

And I like it.

I like the naked kid

2008-07-23T16:48:00.000-07:00

I've always liked the cover art of Nirvana's Nevermind. An underwater shot of a naked baby swimming in a pool, chasing a dollar bill on a hook-and-line--that last bit Photoshoped or retouched I assume.

I have vague recollections of shimmying down a pole and touching the bottom of the pool at the Mont Clare YMCA where my mom was a swim instructor when I was very young. Though I don't remember this particular part, my mom tells me she regularly took me swimming starting when I was less than a month old and that I splashed around and made happy googly noises and spouted water. Except for the tantrums I likely threw when we had to leave, I imagine myself as happy as the little guy--peepee exposed and all--on the cover of Nevermind.

I couldn't find a swimming picture of me, but this is from the YMCA. I'm the unhappy clown in the center with the plastic pumpkin. My brother is the matching clown to the right and my mom is behind me. I'm certain I was wondering when I would get to take off the ridiculous costume and go swimming.

So it brought a smile to my face today when my cubemate Kevin directed my attention to a story on NPR's website about the kid on the album. He's 17 now and pretty much a typical teenager...and he must still like the water 'cause he plays water polo (the best team sport ever) and I like what he has to say. It's worth the three minute read.

First the Peach Pit, now this...

2008-07-01T17:04:00.000-07:00

Art rockers Flaming Lips infamously played the Peach Pit, the rich kid rock club on Beverly Hills 90210. Now their music graces the soundtrack of Okie Noodling II, a documentary about bare handed catfish hunting in Oklahoma. A step up if you ask me.

Interleague Play Results

2008-06-30T17:24:00.000-07:00

June 27, 2008
@ Chicago White Sox 10, Chicago Cubs 3

June 28, 2008
@ Chicago White Sox 6, Chicago Cubs 5

June 29, 2008
@ Chicago White Sox 5, Chicago Cubs 1

The Devil, You + Me

2008-06-17T09:32:00.000-07:00

The Notwist's first album in six years--The Devil, You + Me--drops today in the US. Back in my WRRG days, Kurt Greisch put the amazing "Nothing Like You" on a comp tape for me and life has never been the same.

Notwist Retrospective:

Nothing Like You live from The Notwist (1990)

The Incredible Change of Our Alien from Nook (1992)

Torture Day from 12/Loup EP (1997)

Chemicals from Shrink (1998)

Moron from Shrink (1998)

One With the Freaks from Neon Golden (2003)

Pick up the Phone from Neon Golden (2003)

Bizzare Off the Rails video and the making of Off the Rails recording from Neon Golden (2003)

On/Off the Record Neon Golden documentary trailer (2004)

Good Lies from The Devil, You + Me (2008)

Perfect Speed from 13 & God, a Notwist and Themselves collaboration

Soft Alias another 13 & God song

They live!

2008-06-16T11:53:00.000-07:00

Quite possibly the crappiest recording to ever give me goosebumps.

Emmy is STILL h-a-w-t

2008-06-11T08:44:00.000-07:00

Age is irrelevant to the ever-hot Emmylou Harris. Quite the singer/songwriter she, as well.

Exile in Lizville

2008-06-06T15:39:00.000-07:00

So Liz Phair is doing a limited number of live shows where she plays her classic Exile in Guyville in its entirety. While Guyville is one of my favorite albums ever, Liz hasn't done much for me since. The debut is raw and beautifully unrefined, while her subsequent recordings are--in my generally snobby opinion--increasingly overproduced and unoriginal.

In any event, I have tickets in hand for the San Francisco show on the 23rd along with mild hopes that I'm not dissapointed. Whatever she does, I am fairly sure she'll be better than THIS guy:

An...umm...interesting cover of Liz Phair's "Fuck and Run." Ah YouTube.

Liz Phair Exile in Guyville shows:
6.23 San Francisco, CA - Fillmore
6.24 Chicago, IL - Vic Theatre
6.25 New York, NY - Hiro Ballroom
6.26 New York, NY - Hiro Ballroom

Interleague Play Results

2008-05-19T18:01:00.000-07:00

May 16, 2008
Chicago White Sox 2, @ San Francisco Giants 0

May 17, 2008
Chicago White Sox 3, @ San Francisco Giants 1

May 18, 2008
Chicago White Sox 13, @ San Francisco Giants 8

White Fright and Bike to Work Day

2008-05-15T15:36:00.000-07:00

Bike to Work Day is kind of a little piece of Christmas joy to me. It’s not so much that I need a special occasion to prompt me to pedal to work—though today was my first such foray of 2008—it’s just the fact that I see other people get jazzed on what I’m into and it makes me happy. And yeah, I realize it may be the only day of the year they get on a bike, but that’s OK. As long as they get flashback of the simple joy buried somewhere in their childhood memories, then it’s a good day…anything more is gravy.

Since there are no photos of me in the white shorts (thankfully), I added this Bike to Work Day video from our good friends at Top Dog Illustration.

There was a nice article in Santa Cruz Sentinel this week about a woman who bike commutes and I liked the fact that it was just about a regular person who made a few adjustments in her routine and made it the norm. Usually the story is about some über athlete or über environmentalist crusader and I just think that kind of thing turns regular folks off. Anyway, I like the article so much I sent a note to the reporter saying so. Her response was very warm and thankful—I get the feeling the folks at the Sentinel get a lot of angry email shit. People are so brave from behind their keyboards. But I digress.

Since I had left my road bike in the office earlier in the week, I ended up riding my XC mountain bike in this AM. I thought it might be a bit of a struggle as 40 odd miles and 3,000 feet of climbing tend to be better suited to the former. I was pleased to be wrong. The Yeti may be a bit portly for road riding, but its high-volume tires did pretty well pumped to the max, and the suspension and disc brakes were a blessing coming down the ripple and pock of Mt. Charlie “Road.”

I started my ride in San Jose and met my co-worker Sean in Los Gatos to share the joy and pain and sunshine and (no) rain as we crossed over the mountains to Santa Cruz. He rode his cyclocross bike with—inexplicably—a backpack full of laptop batteries. Some things I just don’t question. I was happy he had some ballast to equal out the added heft of my MTB.

I also unwittingly made a strategically advantageous clothing choice—white cycling shorts. A perk from one of the magazine’s we advertise in, these babies are comfortable, expensive and Italian. Unfortunately, they’re also virtually see-through when combined with a little sweat. After, oh, ten seconds behind me, Sean mumbled something about “butt muff” and went to the front, I tucking in behind him out of the wind for the remainder of the ride. A few years ago I had vowed to never buy a pair of white shorts out of courtesy to my fellow riders...Dan O had rocked a similar pair of Castellis on a lunch ride, exposing his nether regions for the duration and raising both the ire and disgust of the groupetto. As if cycling shorts didn’t already offer way too much detail, making them white adds that almost naked Cirque du Soliel costume quality to them. But they were free…and I thought maybe they figured out a new method to make them more modest. Apparently not.

So now all that’s left is getting home. I brought in another kit so I wouldn’t have to endure swampass on the way back, meaning Sean won’t have to suffer the “white fright” of my shorts twice in one day. We will, however, face the steeper and longer climb up from the coast with miles already in the legs, along with near 100-degree heat. But it’s all OK with me. I love today.
----------
PM UPDATE 9:30 PM

Sean pays me back for my AM white short treatment by wearing an entire white kit for the ride home. You should be thanful that my camera phone can't adequately represent the detail of his hairy asscrack.

I'm finally home and my balls are killing me. No, not those balls...the balls of my feet. Though the former took a bit of a spanking as well. So I switched to my road bike for the way home and as we were climbing up Mt. Charlie's, my seat bolt snapped. Fortunately I stayed up and only slightly slammed my taint on the top tube/seat post, spanking my balls in the process. No permanent harm, but riding 20 mountainous miles without a saddle is not my idea of fun. Truthfully, it was only really bad on the unpaved sections where the bike bounced around alot and I would have preferred to have more weight on the rear wheel. The real killer was not my quads as I would have thought, but the balls of my feet that took a beating as I stood on them the entire way home. Oh well, at least I could still ride and I wasn't too slow.

I ended up making it back to the Silicon Valley Bike Coalition's Bike from Work event at Gordon Beirsche after it was over, but before all the people I cared to run into had left, so that was good. And I still love this day.

Molly Wins

2008-04-30T16:48:00.001-07:00

It's official. Molly F now has the coolest bike in the office. Trumped are all the nanosquidnology carbon race bikes, superelastic boinger sleds, way-too-dandy fixies and that rust pile of a BMX bike Baker is working on. Her custom Superhero bike is art in motion...comic book art, painstakingly culled by Molly herself—an artist she, with an artist’s eye and temperament to boot—from volumes upon volumes of source material. Scanned, tweaked, outputted, remixed and arranged over the course of a month or two, Miss Molly sent off the art and a sketch to John Slawta, proprietor/builder/craftsman of Land Shark Bikes. He crafted her a stunning, lightweight steel cross bike...painted it with a sparkly white basecoat and applied the graphics all over, the covered it with a durable clear coat. As you can see the results are awesome. The coolest hero shot? The pic of her dad on the top tube riding his bike as a kid!

Personal Hygene Tip #763

2008-04-30T15:17:00.000-07:00

Always brush your teeth after putting your contact lenses in. Doing the reverse may result in a painful condition known as Peppermint Eye Syndrome.

The wisdom of T2

2008-03-28T09:00:00.001-07:00

Thanks Todd.

Jimmy eat crepe

2008-03-25T17:19:00.000-07:00

I unfortunately won't be in attendance tonight, but the great Jim White plays the Crepe Place in Santa Cruz tonight...and he's got 10 miles to go on a nine mile road.

Blessed are the Peacemakers

2008-03-19T12:00:00.000-07:00

Today marks five years too long.

Tag This!

2008-03-17T11:43:00.000-07:00

The City of Santa Ana, California is down wit it yo.

And there's more!

A ride of solitude

2008-03-15T21:29:00.000-07:00

Note: I’m trying to get this post down while the cement is still wet…so please bear with the bad grammar/spelling/thought processes/rambliness.

If you ever watch bike racing on TV you might have heard the announcers talk about a rider “turning himself inside-out” with a really hard effort. And on occasion I’d like to think that I myself have inverted my physiology in this overly dramatic hyperbolic way…pounding down the coast at 30 mph or charging up a hill in a tall gear or setting a relentless pace on a group ride. But I found myself inside-out in a different way on today's ride.

Riding one of my regular routes, I passed the spot where two cyclists were killed last weekend by a county deputy who had, apparently, fallen asleep at the wheel of his police car. It’s been all over the news and on my mind more than I care to admit. I knew the spot was coming up and I tried to steel myself to the sight of it…as I imagined there was a makeshift roadside memorial…photos, jerseys, water bottles, flowers, bike parts and other stuff all piled in homage.

Though only cruising at a casual pace, I instantaneously found myself short-of-breath and panicked. I was overcome by dread and fear and anger and an overwhelming sense of loss. Tears found my eyes and my heart felt like it would explode.

Next were thoughts of Bill, a co-worker who was killed by a truck last year on his bike. And Paul Clark, the brother of a friend who was mowed down out on Mines Road in the East Bay. And thoughts of the teacher killed on Mission Street in Santa Cruz last year and the kid on his fixie who died down near Seabright and the bastard who got out of his car and downed a beer after killing a guy on his bike last year on the Peninsula.

A scooter buddy of mine was clobbered head-on last week on Highway 9 by a goof who was speeding and overshot a turn, locked his brakes, crossed the double-yellow and, in fact, the entire lane of opposing traffic. Fortunately the car basically split in half and Josh “only” has two broken legs and a busted up shoulder and nine months until he can walk again.

And though it was a while ago, I still have visions of my best buddy Troy repeating himself over and over in a hospital bed after an SUV clipped him and kept going. He’s, thankfully, as back to ‘normal’ as he ever was.

But the fact remains that we are ever-fragile and delicate and exposed. Though we, some of us, look like Superheroes with our funny costumes when we ride, we are anything but. We have no Wonder Twin Powers or magic lassos or protective bubbles we can conjure up…in some cases don’t have any defense at all—not even a chance at an evasive maneuver.

Despite it all, I will not stop riding. I refuse to live a numb and muted life of fear. But I, however, want to do something about this shit.

I want to remind people that the comfort cocoon that is the modern American automobile is still a deadly if unintentional weapon that should be attentively and judiciously used. That the luxury which seems so alluring in cars equals insulation from reality and our fellow human beings. That we should not be using it as a phone booth, dining room, reading parlor or entertainment center. That we should consider what features might save somebody else’s life as well as their own like a smaller vehicle or anti-lock brakes or not putting shit on your car that eliminates its crumple zones—I truly believe that the crumple zone of the car that hit Josh is what saved his life and that the effective elimination of it on the police cruiser (it had a steel ‘grille guard’) added to the devastation in the bicycle collision.

I want to continue to work for more funding for bicycle and pedestrian safety; for bike lanes and trails; for driver awareness campaigns and rider education programs too. For us to stop pouring billions monthly into unjust wars and put it back into crumbling infrastructure and alternative intermodal transportation and under supported schools and law enforcement and services here at home.

I want riders to take off the fucking headphones—you need ALL of your senses ALL of the time. For them to ride safe bikes with real brakes and keep the fixed-gears on the track where they belong. And to follow traffic laws better and realize that riding is as much of a privilege as driving, even if it doesn’t require a license. Be predictable and visible and sensible. And wear a helmet—at work we get letters EVERY DAY from people who would otherwise be dead.

Yes, shit happens, as they say, and it always will. But some of it IS preventable. So please, let’s all slow down a bit. Let’s be more aware and less adversarial. I want it to stop. I don’t ever want to have to write a post like this about you. And I don’t want you to ever have to write a post like this about me.

Spring Training Baseball Results

2008-03-15T19:57:00.000-07:00

3.15.08
White Sox 5, Cubs 3

Daily Distractions

2008-03-13T10:48:00.000-07:00

Click on the pic.

Creature from the Desk #9

2008-03-03T17:59:00.000-08:00

Okay, this one is more part of the cube than the desk, but you can see it from the desk, so fair play.

As space has inexplicably become less available here at work, I've seen my bicycle get moved, knocked over, run into and tripped on. Being that I neither want to see it nor anyone hurt, I improvised a storage syetem out of some old bike rack parts sitting around. Just put the wheels in the track and lean it against the wall..voila! I may need to add some restraint to make it earthquake-safe...and my mountain bike handlebars may be too wide, but, we'll see!

And, yes I am aware that my desk is a friggin' rat's nest mess!