AHHHH!!! Doughnuts!!!

Big Worm has a training secret he would rather no one ever found out about. Last week he was seeing doughnuts everywhere. His dreams and waking hours were haunted by visions filled with cream, jelly and sprinkled with colors that only heaven could create. Like all visions of the night, the craving consumed him, and he caved to temptation. He added a slurpy, coffee, ice cream foamy to the twisted plan.

The transfomation was a painfull metamorphosis. The power of the pastry coursed though him, and the evil it possessed merged with the mortal. Try as he might to vomit forth the satanic blend, he could not. The grip of darkness was upon him and would not let him free. In the aftermath, he was more than human, more than doughnut, he was...... Evil Dough Man.

Last night I was the sad recipient of his wrath. I was lured out into the cold, black night. A small ride, with all the makings of a leasurely cruise, became the stuff of childhood nightmares. I watched in horror as he changed before me, ripped my leggs off, dipped them in a steaming cup of anguish, and ate them, not unlike the bear claws of his sick and demented dreams.

Cycling lowers it's head in defeat, as the Krispy Kream Empire raises it's demonic fist in victory.

W.B.Z.N.

Jishaaw!

That's the sound my Dad used to make when he sneezed. Judging from the look of my car, someone has put a yellow blanket on it or it is pollen season. Every year I forget, until the scurge is upon us. I am scrambling to get the Zirtec and Flownase. Poindexter and I will be hitting the inhaler for the next few months. Bloody Hell!

W.B.Z.N.

Check It Bu uh ddy

The Blog's have been getting kind of heavy lately, and I'm not just talking about the picture of Juancho. I know nothing makes my friends happier than pointing at me and laughing so .....here ya go kids. I am always willing to dive on a hand grenade, if it helps.

Oh yeah, that's a Fiero Gt. Yes, I am rockin a mullet that would make John Cougar pause. You bet, my jeans are rolled up tight on the Nike's. Black shirt, standard band issue. About six hours after this picture was taken I was at Bullwinkles holding a Budweiser over my head and singing "Fire Woman" by The Cult.

Tip your bartenders and waitresses, there workin hard for ya! We'll be here all week.....GOODNIGHT!

Juancho Won't Go

Yet another blurry picture from the evidence bin.

Jauncho threw himself on the ground and refused to move. I didn't let him watch Sponge Bob for a week.

Let that be a lesson to ya Mister!

w.b.

I'm Lame

You probabaly should stop reading this right now. It's going to be LAME! Lame I tell you!

I am a moody s.o.b.. In random mode, my ipod gave me Jackson Brown's "Late for the Sky". It's kind of foggy and gray this morning, the vibe was in effect.

Kenny Suarez was the drummer from Four In Legion when I moved to Tallahassee. He played with Gary Wright, Iron Butterfly and a long list of Jazz artists. He is one of the best drummers I have ever seen. His influence on me was profound. He called me last night after a ten year silience. He emailed me pictures of all that his life has become. I started sorting through pictures to send him, and as Jackson Brown dropped the lyrics, I reviewed the last decade. Pictures of a bike trip's to Dauset, San Felasco, and some of us being idiots here in town. My kids in Jacksonville on their first surf trip. Socialburn in a New York limo, and on a tour bus with Seether. The boys from Radio Bikini at the old Cab Stand. My wife and I have been together nineteen years this month. I have two cool kids. I have had a great life so far.

You know all this is just a b.s. excuse to put another cool picture of me on the header. This is a shot of me playing with socialburn at the Bay Civic Center two years ago. It was their last gig, they had just fired the drummer and asked me to fill in. I felt like a "Make a Wish" kid. We opened for R.E.O. Speedwagon (I know). There was about fifteen hundred people there when we played. I hadn't been on stage in eight years. I am feeling like I got more than my share today. I have always believed in taking a big slice, and I advize you to do the same!

W.B.Z.N.

Red Faded Into Blue

I was always fascinated by what made surfboards work. By the time I was twenty years old, I thought I had a handle on how my boards should be shaped. I used to go up to Melbourne, to the M.T.B. factory, and get boards for the shop where I worked. One of the shapers, was Robert Strickland. I mentioned to him that my last board wasn't working. I began to dazzle him with hydrodynamic nomenclature, he held up his hand.

"D'chew check the surf?" He asked.

"Ya, it's chest high, kinda side shore." Says I.

"Let's Go." He said.

We paddled out at some crappy beach break. I was nervous. Robert watched me and he took very few waves. He told me to come back next week.

Most shaping rooms were a disaster, empty resin, paint, hardener cans, masking tape in bundled balls. The floors were ankle deep in foam dust. They all had random pictures of boards, surfers, nude women and waves, not Roberts. It looked more like a surgical room. He had a vacuum hose hooked to his planing tools, that removed all the dust. There wasn't a thing out of place. It was as though nothing had ever been shaped there.

"You sit there." He said in a quiet commanding way, pointing to a stool in the corner.

It usually took a good shaper a few days to shape a board. He used a template for the nose and tail. The rest of the measurements he made by hand, as he dragged a metal ruler down the length of the blank. He began to plane the foam in slow methodical movements so confident and deliberate, I knew I was in the presence of greatness. He would occasionally pause, hold the blank up by the nose with a finger, and look down it's length. An hour or so later, the board was completed.

The board was magic, it was airbrushed, red faded into blue. You never forget the great ones, even after you lose them.

I went back to Melbourne to look for him and get another one of his boards. I asked a shop guy where Robert was shaping and he told me he had died in a kayaking accident.

On January 18th, a company that makes eco friendly surfboard blanks, sponsored a shape off to honor Robert. The shapers had two hours to duplicate one of his boards. Greg Noll, a big wave surfing and shaping legend, was the emcee. The winning board was put in the Cocoa Beach Surfing Museum.

W.B.Z.N.

Is it me?

I have always tried to abide by the rules (most of the time). I yeild to horses, hikers and I have tried not to yell at people with dogs off leashes. All of this is part of my plan to leave a smaller jerk footprint.

I have worked on Cadillac re-routes twice in the last five years. I attended city council meetings for Tom Brown, and the first Fat of the Land meeting, (sorry I missed the last one, I have a note from a doctor). I am not the most active guy in the community, but I put in an effort.

I have been trying to drink the kool aid with everyone else, that Cadillac is better now. I do think that some of it is good. I was really hoping for more. There was talk of rocks being brought in, Whistler trail features, and I worried if I'd be able to ride some of the stuff.

Thursday, I saw a stroller on the trail. Friday it was a older woman on a cruiser (not that there is anything wrong with that). Saturday a family of six was standing in one of the fastest sections. I am not sure you would see that at Santos or Oak Mountain. People that go there know they are mountain bike trails and that some parts are tough to navigate.

I am thankful for our trails and the people doing all the hard work to keep them new, fresh and open to cyclists. I am also disappointed that the trail was "mainstreamed" for a wider group of people to use, when there is so much mulit use trail out there.

W.B.Z.N.

El Sunzal

My Brothers and I surfed this place for ten days. This shot gives you a little better of idea of the line up and paddle. Looks like a real good six foot and hollow day. This place is considered a good "Beginner" spot.

I read about La Liberdad in "Searching for Captain Zero" by Allan Weisbecker. I saw pictures of it in Surfer Magazine but, they never named the spot. It took some googling but we found it.

The best Salvadorian surfer is a local named, Jimmy Rotherham. He was mentioned in the book as well. The week we were there, he was on the cover of Surfing Magazine. We met him and gave him our copy, as he hadn't seen it yet. He was a really nice guy. Kelly Slater (multi world title surfer) called him "one of the best surfers he had ever seen."

I got food poisoning the third day and ate one power bar a day for four days. I was able to surf, but I was not a happy gringo.

We had an epic time.

My brother Dennis broke his collar bone Friday, skiing. I am thinking of you bro, feel better, lets plan a trip!

W.B.Z.N.

Red Dragon Dammit!

Credit is due where credit is due. Bike Chain wheelie dropped the end of Cadillac today. Which was cool but, the ensuing adrenaline dump, and the super hero powers he had for the next hour were priceless.

So here's to you Red Dragon, nice one Bro! I am a supporter of the grand gesture. The heads were shaking, the boys were laughing, and we all did stupid shit trying to make ourselves feel better that we didn't ride that drop.

Logs were rolled, balance beems were parked on, then ridden, (by some of us sorry M-dub). End of the day, and you can't imagine how queezy this makes me, Bike Chain (.com-visit often-) won the day.

There I said it.

Ba, Bye, now

W.B.Z.N.

I sat in the waiting room reading three year old dirt rags. The others paced and chewed their nails. Not me, I was in, Pete was working on my brakes and that could only mean one thing: I would have to be careful not to go over the bars when I squeezed the levers. Yup, good ole Pete would put the mojo on.

It was best if you didn't talk when he brought your bike out. If you made any sudden movements, he would explain that whole inertia gravity equation. He once made me calculate what my tire pressure would be if I was riding on the moon. I had to take a vacation day.

The silence was broken, everyone looked at Pete. His face was sullen as he placed his hand on my shoulder.

"It'll work for a while but....it's not good."

I felt the Amex in my pocket skip a beat.

"What, what is it?" I asked with the trust of a child.

"Well you need new cranks, your middle ring looks like you have been sharpening your lawn mower blade on it, and the cassette is now and eight track.....of The Village People."

His eyes turned away and he took a deep breath, even professionals get shaken.

"Your chain...." He shook his head and took out a NASA certified chain thingy, measuring, dealie. He twisted some knobs and then held it up to my left eye. I tried not to flinch.

"Uh, what am I looking at Pete?" I said like a Wakulla guy at a Democratic rally.

"You see the blue and the red and how the little arrow is pointing to the middle of the red?"

"Yes." I said, like Igore submitting to Frankenstein.

"Blue is good and,..."

"Red is bad...?" I grunted, trying not to drool.

"Brakes, cranks, chain, cassette, $700.00 installed."

He pushed my bike to me and I turned to leave the waiting room. The others just looked away.

W.B.Z.N.

Poles

I haven't surfed since pipeline came to Mexico Beach via Katrina. I caught ten waves that day. I only got to the bottom of three, of those I made one. Seeing Big Worm scared to death and our buddy Loui go over the falls was worth the trip.
This was Jax yesterday. Head high, perfect and cold. I wasn't there. I am thinking about surfing and days gone by. Fifteen years ago, nothing would have stopped me from being in this picture. Hopefully the neck will the thaw out this spring and I will get a few. Even though I haven't been a core surfer for many years, I still mourn every swell that that breaks without me.
W.B.Z.N.

Could Be Worse, Could Be Raining!

Yes that's me, El Salvador 2004. Click on it, it's undeniable. The weak chin, wide stance, it's all me.
I never would be so vain as to publish a photo of myself, even one with a great cut back, but Juancho called me a liar. That is in between complaining about the pace, the bad weather and the length of the ride. You have to love a guy that invites you on a ride when it's raining and then spends the next hour talking about how hungry he is.
w.b.z.n.

Solo

Being alone in any endeavor is a tad duanting. There is no one to compare to. I am sure Jill, up in Alaska, would find my situation funny, but adventure is relative. If you have never been on a bike, and you roll to the end of the driveway with a higher heart rate, isn't that a first ascent?

I have been doing a lot of solo night rides out at Fern, Tom Brown, and Cadillac. I am trying to stretch out my comfort zone.

The other solo flight I am plotting is the music stuff. Before, I had a ton of people I could bounce ideas off of. Much like the real estate business, there has been a mass exodus. When things were easy, everyone was anwsering the phone and getting checks. You couldn't throw a rock (even in Tallahassee) without hitting a music professional. In 2003, I had a surreal experience at Floyds. I walked outside to use my phone. I was in the company of four other people, all managers for bands playing that night. All of us were on the phone, equally serious, talking for our bands. The funny thing was, we were the only band with a record deal and the rest were local openers. It made me question the validity of what I was doing. Maybe we were all "playing manager"?

Last night I got to the levy a lot later than I wanted to. On my way back in I had to turn my light on much sooner than usual. I am always on fern before I run out of light. For the whole ride back to T.B. the guy in the hockey mask was behind me reving his chainsaw.

I had a similar dilemma (I won't bore you with) that was equally scary. My instinct was to call the old stand by's in New York, not an option. If only I had a light that would make this ride a little easier. I guess that's the reason for the high heart rate. Cool.... Adventure here I come.

Trends

I am seeing a pattern developing here.

Blairstone Road

If you want to die, I mean really end your life, this is the place ot make it happen. Everyday on my way to work I see people that have to have their car in the bike lane. This guy set a new record 13 times in and out of the lane. In this shot you can almost see all of the car in front of him.

I have been toying with the idea of selling one of our cars, and riding everyday to work. This is the nightmare bike commuters face. Where do you get the guts to commute on a road with no lanes?

Food for thought.

WB.Z.N.

Maybe we should all just have some dolphin safe tuna and start a productive dialogue. Let's just put on some Enya, and chill you know?
Everything is beautiful....in it's own way.
w.b.z.n.... man, you know.... it's cool.

Nature Always Wins

I have been trying to be a little calmer, and nicer. My wife has been practicing the power of positvie thinking ever since I have known her. It works really well for her. Nothing rattles her resolve, with the exception of my raised voice. I have been spending some time everyday making my internal monologue encourage me, instead of calling me a dumb ass. I try to imagine accomplishing goals, without being stressed. I build a picture of the success making people happy. I want to be a guy that gets things done without conflict.

"How's that working for you?" Asks my internal monologue.

"Be Quiet." I reply.

I am back in the music business. I have had a few meetings and calls with industry folks lately. My last foray in the business, left me with a lot of psychic baggage. I was not the best person I could have been. I want to learn to get things done without doing what the band used to call, "rearranging someone's D.N.A.."

I had a meeting in Orlando Wednesday and over all it went very well, but I was surprised how quickly I turned back into Ari Gold. I was talking fast and the evil was creeping back in.

Last night I was on a ride with the boys and I was determined to be patient with one of our newbies. He means well but his energy is usually expressed in bad passes, twitchy steering, goofing around at bad times....you know all the stuff I did when I was new and still do now. I tired to compliment him on his good points. He rode some tough sections really well and I told him so. Eventually he couldn't help himself and while screwing around almost locked bars with me, you know , like I have been doing to Big Worm for years. This lead to me completely unloading my whole week on the guys head, and a really long silence from the boys.

"Nice one!" My internal monologue says.

I had to make a call and left the ride early. I had plenty of time to watch the instant replay. I said "Dammit!" to the empty woods. An argument could be made that he desrved it or that I was having a crazy week but I am reminded of a quote from Calvin Coolige.

"I've never been hurt by something I didn't say."

Is it possible for the scorpion to ride the frog's back accross the lake without stinging him? I am not sure, but I have a new steamer trunk in my psychic luggage.

Go ahead and kick my ass in the comments, I've got it coming.

W.B.Z.N.

"Things that won't happen for a thousand please Alex!"

I have some scores to settle and some things to say and I am not sure any of them will be connected. I started this blog because I was inspired by Juancho and Big Worm and I thought it might be cool to tell some stories about my ridiculous life. Lets face it we really don't need another perspective on the Tally Cycling scene. After Juancho gets out the big pen, and Worm lays down the knowledge, getting my opinion is kind of like asking a guy with a white cane what happened to Kennedy when you have a copy of the Zapruder film.
Now for the rant portion of our show. We have several things to cover so please wait till the end of our program and I will take questions.
1. A couple weeks ago at Munson, Bushi and Squatch worked me over pretty good. I went to Juancho's site to praise them and got no response.
BASTARDS!
Bushi and I are even after tonight and I wonder; Are the hairs standing up on Squatches malnourished neck? Will he ever venture away from the comfort of trails with no features? I'm coming for you big man!
2. Recently Red Dragon threw down a gauntlet. He is going to train and kick every one's ass (insert pro wrestling catch phrase here). I will lay money that Spanish Mackerel dances with his date at Bump and Grind. He looks good, we need change, my vote is for the man on the little Anthem.

Lastly, Florida has been plagued by invasive species for years, paper trees, Australian pines, kudzu and now we have a new biblical scourge.
The New Hampshire Huckster. Pizza Steve is under the impression I am going to buy him a pizza. He has about as much chance of that happening as he does of catching polio. Now, Steve is in the hall of fame right by Pete and The Curl, but buying him a pizza for riding that slippery log out at Red Bug, is like someone paying me to talk a lot. If it's going to happen anyway, there's no need for reinforcement. Seriously, we were all impressed, but I have enough friends so, take your pimping van with your little crypt keeper dog, and go dent some peoples cars, because the pizza store is closed. We don't respond to intimidation and we don't take American Express.
There's a new kid in town and his name is:
The Wrecking Ball.
Over and Out!
W.B.Z.N.

lego fallingwater

This is proof some people are sicker than I am. I found this after the post. I thought I was just being clever. I bet this guy can't play and sing "Walkin on the Moon". Nah!
w.b.z.n.

Who Are You? Who, Who, Who, Who?

I recently got a pretty good offer to play in a cover band. They make good money and the guys have good reps as people and players. I have been trying to figure out a way to offset some debt we have, and to fill sand bags in our own pesonal real estate collapse. One of the ideas was to play again. I used to make a couple hundred bucks a night, it seemed fun at the time.
Cover music should be taken very lightly. It's good to be a solid player and to there is nothing wrong with playing in bars to people that couldn't deal with graduating high school or college, or the divorce that has put them back out there. Let's be clear, it ain't like you are Springsteen and this ain't the Meadowlands. Dig? If you built Fallingwater out of Lego's, that doesn't make you Frank Lloyd Wright. Still I admire the commitment.
One thing keeps entering my mind: How will this affect the current wave I am riding with my cycling? I have never enjoyed the base miles a much as I am right now. Solo rides are better, group rides are better, I have a new bike, things are good. I don't want to miss a Saturday death march, because I was making middle aged women shake their butts to "Funky Music". Nothing is more important or more telling about who you are than how you spend your time. So I just need to figure out if I want to wear the "Cutters" jersey or the "I'm with the Band" vintage tee.
I am surprised at how little this is bothering me. I was a musician for a long time and it seemed so important then. When you have a good night people clap, fat women tell you how awesome you are in publix, pretty ego building stuff. I think I would rather clean all the obstacles on Live Oak with no one around, or say, kick Darien's ass on a sprint, that's the stuff man.
Keep the gig, thanks for thinking of me though.
W.B.Z.N.

Circles part deux

I was talking on the ride today (like I always do) about how lucky we are to have a crew and cycling. I know how macho libre we all are, and I know we hate to say stuff like this but, thank God for our friends and the common thread....bikes. Hug it out Bitches!
" I digress;
After writing the "Circles" post a couple days ago, my oldest and best friend Kevin sent me an email. There are some other things about that post I conveniently left out. Make a sandwich, get a cold drink, and get comfy this could take a while.
Kevin and I met when we were kids. He was a drummer in his family band and they played on a float in the P.S.L. 4th of July parade. He was ten or so. It was the reason I became a drummer. He moved to Ft. Pierce and we lost touch for awhile but later we both found surfing and each other again. By 1985 we had become very close. I had a bad break up and Kevin made it his hobby to break me out of my self imposed depression.
He decided we should enter a surf contest and make a pact to surf everyday for thirty days. If the waves were flat (often) we'd just paddle. We had mock heats. We would see how many waves we could get in fifteen minutes. I ended up staying with he and his young wife, eating all their food and taking up any free time they might have spent together. That was the fall season I spoke of in the post. I'm pretty sure I stayed at Kevin's the night before that epic dawn patrol.
There are so many stories I could tell you about this guy, like the way he bought a new car when he let my wife and I stay at his house in Hawaii. He didn't want us to ride in his old car on our honeymoon, or the time he took me to the Town and Country factory to buy a board when I was in Hawaii the first time. That day I met Ben Aipa and Dane Kealoha, (two of my hero's) all because of Kevin. He paddled me into my first wave on the North Shore because I was frozen in the channel with fear. I could go on and on but, I owe him my life for pulling me out of that tough time.
To think of my life without this guy in it, is impossible.
When I left town I believed that I shouldn't tell anyone because I was trying making a new start and I wanted to do it alone. I didn't want to make a grand gesture. I didn't want any goodbyes. It was a deeply personal decision and I never considered the harm it would cause to Kevin.
I moved to Tallahassee, started a band, met my wife, made new friends and in the deepest form of denial, tried to forget my former life. When I finally contacted Kevin again he was in Hawaii. He brought up how I left but, I skirted the issue and he let me slide.
To this day I have never talked about it with him, probably because I knew I could never justify it.
Kevin is now a graphic artist at Newsweek Magazine. His award winning work has appeared in Time, Rolling Stone, Popular Science, National Geographic and many others. When ever I was in New York with socialburn, he would drop everything to come see me for five minutes.
Even if no one sees this but him, and everyone else I know clicks away after two lines, I want to have it in writing. What I did was selfish and wrong and I will never forgive myself. Friends are such a precious commodity and we need to remember that the good old days are now and one day soon, we will all be looking back, wishing we had said the things we wanted to, only to watch time swallow the opportunity.
I'm sorry Bro.
Hug it out Bitches!

W.B.Z.N.

Support Staff

Several months ago my sister began restoring our family home movies. She made a promise to my father that she would do it, and she made good on it.

My father has been gone since 1991 and we lost my Mom in 2003. It took me a really long time to watch those movies. It softened the blow to see how much my wife and two boys enjoyed it. Through their questions, I was able to be distracted enough to enjoy the wonder of those films. My Dad used to say it was hard to focus through the tears. Now I understand what he meant.
My Dad was a traveling salesman and I have few memories of him before I was six. He lost huge chunks of his soul selling for Johnson and Johnson, then later dental supplies.
The tough job was my Mom's. She was home with seven kids and all the challenges that entailed; never enough money, thrift shops, left overs, sick children, you get the idea. It's a classic American tale.
My wife and kids have been down some crazy roads with me too. The list is long and embarrassing. I am lucky I pulled a couple things out of the fire and never came home to find the house empty, with my clothes in the yard. Through it all my wife has never shown one ounce of doubt. She says what she has to say, and then tells me to do what I need to. We always end up at even or a little better.

"I'm going to start a business!"
"Cool ." she says.
"I'm going to do this tour to Europe and Japan!"
"Cool, I'll pay the bills, and work two jobs while your gone." She says.
"I'm going to manage this band!"
"That's fine, I'll take video of the birthday party for you." She says.
"I'm going to buy a new frame!"
"You need one." She says.
Things are going to get tricky around here this year. We have some challenges we need to get through to get back to even, or maybe a little better. We are trying to make it fun, hopefully teaching our boys a thing or two about the environment, fiscal responsibility and a thing called sacrifice. My Mom and Dad taught me that last one.
"Cool." She says.
W.B.Z.N.