Strange Things

This is the ride from Saturday. Another six hour epic. A lot of damn funny stuff happened but, I am depending on a blog from Big Worm, so I will leave the details to him.

I have finally emerged from my self imposed post vacation funk. All it took was some quality time on the bike with pals, to get me back on track. I get by with a little help from my friends.

Still a little slow at work so, I finally opened a classmates.com free trial. I was looking at the profiles and wondered if I should fill one out. You have a couple options when doing this: 1. Pump it up a little, using terms like "director of operations" and "blessed with my beautiful wife, and gifted kids" then post a ten year old picture of yourself, pretending you are well preserved. 2. State the brief facts, with little or no emotion. I opted for door number two. I was really hoping to find one posted by an ex jock, after a three day bender, that went something like this:

Greetings from the class of 81! I am an old, over weight, balding, car salesman in a midlife crisis, and I got on classmates to catch up! Whoo! Go Cobras! Well I don't look as good as I used to but, I just got divorced and I am ready to go line dancing! Email me!

In my mind Will Ferrell plays the lead, and falls down half way through the speech. I didn't find anything like that. The 120 pound weakling I was in high school, is still holding out hope. It's a sick dream I know, but it's Monday, and it's all I got.

W.B.Z.N.

Take a Picture

I came home early to get ready for the Joe's ride tonight. You know when Worm ain't riding due to weather, it's bad. He is a weather guru. So I decided to scan some photos. I noticed there was a streak on the inside of the glass. I took the scanner apart and cleaned it.

*Elapsed time one hour*

Then I went looking for some other photos of this ramp, which led to cleaning out more files and shredding documents. My wife came home and needed to get on the computer. I decided to clean up the wiring in the closet, that houses the scanner, printer, and fax.

*Elapsed time, three and a half hours*

She went to get dinner going, and I started scanning. I had to reboot the software because the computer wouldn't recognise the scanner, kind of like when I used to go to bars, to meet women. I got it working. I arranged the photos and scanned them.

*Elapsed time, four hours, forty seven minutes*

All this, just to prove to Juancho, that I was the guy in the pics.

And this is what my life would be like if I didn't ride.

W.B.Z.N.

Late For The Sky

I have an office in my house. Years ago in a galaxy far, far, away an accountant told me it was a good deduction. We chose square footage, over percentage of house, and it was a healthy write off. The walls were covered in album covers, posters, and billboard charts, given to me by the band. There was a couch for band meetings, a desk, a computer, and a drum set in case my abilities were ever in question, which they often were. The road manager and I used to count money at the end of tours, here. Once there was so much cash, it took us three hours to make sense of it all. The band wrote me a check, for more than I make in three years, when we got a publishing deal with Warner Chapel, right here on this empty desk.

I redecorated recently and decided it would be good to have a bed for guests. The paraphernalia seemed like a football player in his Letterman's jacket, long after graduation. It all came down.

I found some old pictures of myself when I was cleaning up. One of a pretty good front side air, one of my old V.W. bus, and one of me behind the counter at North Jetty Surf Shop. Happy times all. I was twenty three. It's very hard to look back at that simple time. I am sure if I could talk to myself back then, all I would have wanted was everything I didn't have. I had friends surfing in Hawaii, guys were on MTV, dancing with chicks in lingerie. The world was giggling it's keys, and I had my tongue out like a puppy, waiting for someone to throw the ball.

I wonder if I will look back when I am eighty, at pictures of myself at forty five and think, "Man you had it all, and didn't even know it." Looking back, is a great way to get a pain in the neck, and as it turns out, the heart. Second guesses and what if.

A friend I hadn't ridden with in while said yesterday, that I couldn't stand to go slowly uphill. Man he nailed it, and me. Later when I was gassed, he said, "Just keep spinning."

I hear ya brother, I hear ya.

W.B.Z.N.

Emotional Rescue

I once had a physciatrist tell me that I was a mascot. The term apparently refers to people that resolve conflict by being funny. It's a role I played in my large family. The down side is it makes me neurotic. Kind of like Robin Williams on crack.

Today I rode with Squatch and Juancho. I have never considered myself a mediator, that's how Squatch referred to me. These two are quite a pair. If what we did today was a movie, it would have been Lawrence Of Arabia, substitute the bikes for the camels, and the Turks and Arabs, for Juancho and Squatch.

It started cool and rainy and ended hot and oppressive, the weather was weird too. Juancho is a man on a mission and like most of the converted, his zeal is a tad Jim Jonesie. I love it. I envy his quest. He is getting skinnier, tougher, and as he sheds his skin, a little gnarly. He was pretty focused on Squatch, who was playing a mental game of chess all day with our hero. He played well and refused to give up, which set the theme for the ride. A six and a half hour Mexican stand off started at G.B.S. and included: Fern, Tom Brown (Squatch smashed his bad knee), Cadillac, the Green Way, a stop at a mysto store, that I am still not sure was real or hallucination,

part of the Food Lion Loop,

the hills from the Joe's Loop, a stop at Fresh Market, for weird stares, banana's and O.J.,

the secret single track climb (Squatch cramped), and (after waiting for someone to blink and draw pistols) I cried "UNCLE!" and we headed back to town, via the power line, and parted ways on Live Oak. I know that was a long sentence, but the ride was six and a half hours. I got to see their abusive relationship, and they got a peak into the mascot closet. I think we are even, but you'll have to ask them.

There's a lot more to this story, and two hours of activity I missed, before I invited myself on this love fest. I will leave that to Juancho to clear up. Their Will Be Blood, I promise you. I may not be invited to ride with those boys for a while, but I will say this: I had a good time, and now I have enough hours this week a day early. When you get a second, ask Juancho how he feels about pace lining on the road.

The following is a rant Juancho launched into on the ride. Priceless.

Did you catch the nipple check?

W.B.Z.N.

Outshined

W.B.Z.N.

Coming Up Close

I remember when I first started riding. I would roll up to other cyclists and they would look at my bike. The judgement was obvious. You are what you ride and what you wear. The other side of the coin is, when you get the good gear, they wonder if you are genuine or if you just bought the package. The hard core's are always trying to spot the posers. It must be an ancient survival trait, to sort out the enemy in the tribe, and keep the bloodlines free of those in the genetic shallow end. It is the root of prejudice, but the reality is, we all have a concept of who we are, and no one wants to mingle below their station. We all pretend we don't give a shit what people think, but when you have that awkward moment of being displaced, your bones rattle.

My whole life I have been at the party, but never on the a-list. I was a skateboarder, surfer, musician, and a manager. There were plenty of times that I was on the cool side of the velvet rope, but I was never really a member of any of those clubs. I did what I always have done, I squeaked by.

People will always tell you to remain thankful, and point out the great things that you have; family, love, and health. I am aware that I am blessed and that the existence of everyone hangs by tenuous threads. We are all just a car accident, or a doctors diagnosis away from oblivion, and this knowledge has never made me feel better about wanting more. I have been in record company offices. I have had some ricochets with famous people. I have had a brief period of moderate wealth. I have traveled the world, but I always had to endure the up and down stares of those that truly belong. They have a secret language, a posture and an air of entitlement, that sends out a rich pheromone to all others of their ilk. They can spot an impostor at a hundred paces. That's who I am, an imposter

The problem with going to the V.I.P. room and not being welcome, is the long walk home. The place where reality meets expectation. The line where the facts meet the dreams. The place where the party talk and the hang over, walk hand in hand. The adjustment to the upgrade takes seconds, but a step backward is a long, painful, journey.

I will always be more comfortable holding the door, than walking through it. I am grateful for the glimpse, and even though I was a thief in the temple, I did light a candle. The game goes on, and there is never enough to bridge the gap to happiness. We all know it's not about things you can buy. It's about being centered. It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you have. I am very happy to be back among my own, and I am in desperate need of a new dream.

More on the trip later......

W.B.Z.N.

Come Undone

I have not been myself lately. Not a bad thing, not a good thing, just a new thing. Everything feels subdued. This helps in some areas (work) and in others (riding) it's more difficult to motivate.

I didn't want to ride yesterday. I was lethargic and bored, but somehow I made my way onto the bike. A woman almost clipped me on Blairstone, and I chased her from the top of the hill, to Tennessee Street. I was happy to see the alarmed look in her eyes. After that sprint, I ended up riding very hard all the way to the levy, before being stopped by a train. So on some strange level, I am happy that lady shook me out of my stupor.

It would be cool to get there without conflict, but everyone gets pulled in sometimes. My averages are better than they used to be. I can live with that.

Sorry for the lackluster posts as of late, I'm waiting for the next good one just like the rest of you!

W.B.Z.N.