Garmin Edge 500: Every day I’m reminded at work about the importance of data integration in order to make life simpler. With the Garmin Edge 500, I can have that. And I want that. Apparently I’ve officially drunk the ESRI Kool Aid if the reason behind me wanting a Garmin Edge 500 is data integration. Never mind that I don’t care anymore that Big Brother can track my every move when I’m equipped with my new Garmin Edge 500. I gave up on trying to dodge the Man years ago, when I started carrying a cell phone. Next Christmas I’ll probably be asking for a barcode tattoo so the Feds can label me with a number, and the Christmas after that, I’ll be asking for a computer ID chip to be placed inside my body so they can even keep track of me when I’m in the shower.
Compression Socks: Every day I surf the web I’m reminded of how slow I am compared to the likes of Julien Absalon, JHK, the Dart, and especially Jens Voigt. As a 36-year-old working-class bike racing hack, I need all the help I can get. If a pair of compression socks can even make me think that I could be getting faster, then I’ll take a pair and I’ll wear them all over town. I’ll take a black pair in size 9.
Steve Berg as my butler: Well, not only my butler, but also as my bike mechanic, welder, barista, and barber. And that’s not all he’s good for. I heard he knows martial arts, can play the drums, and since he’s straight edge, he’d make the ultimate Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor. I used to think Trevor and Aaron were the Jack-Of-All-Trades, but I think Steve has surpassed them in that classification. When’s the last time Trevor or Aaron made me a pumpkin pie latte, gave me a straight razor shave, rebuilt my Rock Shox SID, and welded the crack in my car muffler all in the same day? Never. I think I’ll classify Trevor and Aaron under Master of None. Come to think of it, Steve hasn’t done any of those things for me either, but if he’s going to be my butler, you can be damn sure he’ll be doing that and then some. I’m confident his wife, Naomi, won’t even notice he’s gone.
A Frank Lloyd Wright house: If I’m going to have I butler, I guess I’m going to need a house. And what can I say about Frank Lloyd Wright and his houses that haven’t already been said on Wikipedia? The man’s house designs are right up my alley; simple with straight lines, yet elegant as hell. One summer when I was working the Honda Wing Ding in Madison, WI, I passed up the chance to tour a few of the houses Wright had built in the Madison area. Instead, I went drinking with the guys from Dunlop, which led to a no holds barred bread eating contest at Carrabba’s. Pound for pound, I won, but today I feel like a loser for not going on the Wright tour. Anyway, it sure would be nice to have a low-slung Wright roof over my head to keep my Garmin Edge 500, compression socks, and butler warm and dry during this freezing California winter ahead.
Hopefully you got everything that was on your Christmas list; even if it’s over-priced, fattening, frivolous, made in a sweatshop, can shoot you’re eye out, is bad for the environment, and can be used by the Man so he too can see you when you’re sleeping.