I’ve been meaning to do this for a couple years, but I guess I’m lazy. Covering the new multi-hundred-dollar trailer in slush, salt and road grime during this morning’s ride was some serious motivation. It survived our second ride in much better shape, though I think the flap could stand to be a bit longer.
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I thought I’d share a transcript of today’s conversations with the little one.
“Daddy? Do you remember those M&M’s?”
“No.”
“Daddy, they’re in the yellow bag up there.” She points to the cupboard.
“Oh. Yeah, I remember those.”
“Can I have some?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t need any more sugar today.”
“Oh.” She pauses for a moment or two. “Can I have a Twizzler?”
Later on…
“Daddy? Do you remember those crackers with honey in them?”
“Do you mean graham crackers?”
“Yeah!”
“Would you like a graham cracker, Molly?”
“Can I have two?”
Resolutions suck. I never follow through. So this year I’m setting some goals for myself instead. These will all be closer to reasonable than impossible, and are guidelines for living better and doing more of the things I like. I don’t expect to stick with all of this all the time.
Bike stuff first.
Weight loss. I’m fat. I like to eat. I like to feel full. I have no will power. (Yeah, sure. I quit smoking “cold turkey”, but I can’t quit eating. Eating is not an all-or-nothing undertaking and I’m simply not going to subsist on protein shakes.) My initial thoughts a couple years ago were to continue eating as I always have but burn more calories. This, in theory, is not a bad plan. Unfortunately, when I burn more calories I desire more fuel. Fuck. One year ago I weighed 247 pounds. That’s a lot and it’s the most I’ve ever weighed, before or since. I managed to shave off 20 pounds and then put half of that back on. 237 is better than 247, but it’s still too damn much. 20 pounds is a reasonable goal, and if I stick to the bike stuff up above it’s shouldn’t be hard to do at all.
Surroundings. I have a bunch of stuff. Much of it is in boxes in the basement. It might not be a bad idea to get rid of something every time I bring something new into the house. More or less. The trash guys are going to hate me. I also need to build some shelves and declutter the rest of the house. This is my least favorite goal but it needs doing.
Photography.
I have a few more goals that involve family and friends and spending less time on Facebook, but they’re not something I can quantify, so I’m not going to write about them here.
Happy new year! Where’s the pie?
Hold on a sec while I clear out the cob webs.
Tonight’s fun involved Dura-Ace hubs laced to beautiful Mavic MA-40 rims. Seriously, who wouldn’t want that? Probably most folks once they learn they’re dealing with Uniglide. For the uninitiated, Uniglide is Shimano’s pre-Hyperglide cog technology. It was coolio in the 80s, but it’s incompatible with pretty much everything these days. Or, rather, everything these days is incompatible with Uniglide. And that’s where the fun starts.
I got these wheels a couple years ago before I knew the difference, but I figured it out real quick. The rear wheel went on a hook and the front wheel ended up on Christie’s little green mixte. Once I found a new front wheel for the mixte I started thinking about my Dura-Ace “wheel set” again, and St. Sheldon had the answer - grind off part of the wide spline on each cog of a Hyperglide cassette. For those of you who are still reading and who don’t have a clue what I’m rambling on about, this picture right here should help clear things up. I have in my possession two old Hyperglide cassettes, an “i” and an “ac”, plus the first two Uniglide cogs, a 13 and 14. And that, folks, is the makings of one weird block. I also have a NOS hub body and the tool to extract the old one.
Following much grinding, cursing, grinding, filing, fitting, unscrewing, cursing, wrench-to-head whacking and general mechanical agitation the Dura-Ace rear wheel is fully functional with a 13-14-15-18-21-24-28 cassette. I also managed to scrounge a NOS 600 Ultegra rear derailer. This drive train is going on the Nishiki International, with a Symmetric down tube shifter, just for shits and giggles. There will be more about the Nishiki. I promise.
In other news, I’m almost done removing the paint from the braking surface on the Trucker’s front wheel. Ugh.
Last time I mentioned that Christie’s Grandmother had given us a typewriter. It’s an 70s era Olympiette 3 portable. I haven’t taken any photos of it yet, but this one on Flickr is identical. The few pages I’ve managed to bang out on it have taught me just how little strength is required for a PC keyboard, and the crack of the type bars against the paper and platen is wonderfully alarming. But it needs a little attention. A CLA, for you camera folks. Should I do it myself? Should I send it out? And what do I type on while it’s out of service?
Good question.
Yesterday, I bought a Remington Rand Letter-Riter from a local woman. Found it on Craigslist. It needs a little work, too, but either is useable until one of them is cleaned. Christie says my collection is complete. Actually, she said some words that aren’t PG, so I won’t repeat them here. Fair enough. Besides, how could I possibly need more than one typewriter?
Bree has one that types in italics. An old Underwood No. 5 would be relatively inexpensive and it has those nifty round keys with the chrome rings. A noiseless for train travel. And I saw one with a math keyboard. Can’t live without that. I hope Christie doesn’t read this.
Or something like that. Now that I’ve got the food rant out of my system, we probably ought to get down to business. Last year, about this time, Bone and I started talking about a bike ride down the Pine Creek Rail Trail. We went in October and had a grand time. (We did have to cut the hookers into small pieces for the benefit of the boy scouts we met along the way, but that’s neither here nor there.)
We’ve both mentioned doing it again. October was nice last year. Couldn’t complain about the weather. The weekends of the 3rd, 17th and 24th work for me. Who’s in?
Last year’s fun:
http://bonius.com/blog/2008/10/05/pine-creek-rail-trail-camp-out/
http://twosixteen.com/fivetoedsloth/?p=114
p.s. - When I decided to call this the “Bone and Sloth” something or other, I did so simply because I thought it would be polite to not list my name first. But if you say it real fast it sounds kinda dirty. So I changed it to “Sloth and Bone”. Immediately after typing it I realized that the dirty version is not only more polite, it just sounds better. So say it fast.
Dear food company executive nincompoops,
Prices go up. We, your fat and sassy customers, know this. It never goes down. Not for long, anyway. We know this, too. As citizens of the fattest nation anywhere, anywhen we’ve eaten a lot and we know what tastes good. We’re experts. We also know when you’re yanking our chain.
It was bad enough when the Consumerist shone their hypocrisy exposing light on your shrink ray. We thought you’d get the fucking message. But no. Your ears are apparently full of all that ice cream that’s not sold in half-gallons anymore. Allow me to say this one more time. ICE CREAM IS SOLD IN HALF-GALLONS YOU TERMINALLY RETARDED, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS JACK ASSES. We know it got more expensive. Just raise the fucking price like everyone else.
Today, you short bus riding twits, my uber-healthy microwave lunch tasted like crap. It didn’t used to taste like crap. It used to be edible. But now, crap. I imagine the price of basil went up a whopping 2 cents per bushel or something like that and it made the bean counters’ knees jerk too hard. So the old men in the ivory tower just decided to leave the basil out and put feces in. Because us food experts won’t notice. Great move.
You inbreds in the food industry suck.
Sincerely,
Fuck you.
Christie’s Nana let us bring home a typewriter that she couldn’t sell at the yard sale. Olympiette 3 portable. Orange and creme. Retro chic. I banged out a page on it this morning after flipping the ribbon, even hit every ‘a’ twice. My left pinky has no strength. Hunt-and-peck typists are no longer a pet peeve.
Starting up the diet again. The bike rides have dropped off and the fat has stacked up. 247.5 lbs this morning and that scale, well, that fucker don’t lie. The old one lied sometimes. This one doesn’t. I hate it.
Cigarettes were easy.
We drove over to the Pedal Pusher yesterday afternoon to pick up my new bike. After about a half an hour, some new bottle cages, rack hardware and a couple handshakes we loaded it up on the rack and went to dinner with the girlies. Christie took some pictures when we got home. This one is my favorite.
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| From LHTMF |
Of course, one of the reasons I chose the Trucker over a handful of other tourers is due to its accommodating nature.
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| From LHTMF |
Thank the gods for that, huh?
15 or so easy miles rolled out behind us last night. No one honked a stupid horn or shouted sidewalk curses. I guess those same gods were looking out for us on our maiden voyage.
LHTMF! You can figure it out. You really can. But for what it’s worth, it’s not mine. The fine folks over at Point 83 apparently have a few in their group and came up with the phrase and some rules. Credit where credit is due and all that.
The wife type person has declared herself to be the LHT Widow.
Rolled out at 6:45 or so on the Collegiate and ambled over to the island for the Sunday morning bike club ride. The pot hole parade explored a bit of Harrisburg and I got to trade bikes with Bill for a little while and try out his very snazzy Traveler’s Check. 14 miles plus the 10 I did last night. Slow and easy. I don’t like being out of breath.
The Spotmatic got a workout this morning. I exposed a few frames on the island before the ride started. It figures that the kitchen needs to be cleaned before any film gets developed. The light meter is acting kinda wonky, so it may take a trip to Tennessee for a CLA while I use the K1000 for my little project.
I’ll be 34 next month. I guess I’m officially into my mid-30s. Whoever decided to notate time needs an ass whoopin.
Flickr has quite a few groups dedicated to manual cameras and film photography. This one has the best group name.
