It's called Thanksgiving you idiots

Leave it to dumb Americans to take the concept of a perfectly good holiday and screw up its purpose and meaning by renaming it Turkey Day. I've said it many times and I'll say it once more: You've disgraced yourselves once again.

Only 28 days left until Present Day...

Meanwhile, while parked across the street from Jersey's, Joey & Jamie's bikes were stolen from the back of the LCI truck on Tuesday night. Be on the lookout for an orange Gary Fisher Caliber and hardtail K2. I'm willing to bet some white over-priviledged south-side Redlands kids took them because that's the kind of thing some white over-priviledged south-side Redlands kids would do. That and celebrate "Turkey Day". I weep for the future.

Here's what Joey's bike looks like just in case you were wondering.

I'm perfectly aware that the recent tone of this blog has been negative. Don't fret. It's just a phase. Nevertheless, it's my blog. I do what I want.

Then again, what I want to do and what I'm actually capable of are two different things. For example, I want to finish out the cyclocross season, but my mind and body don't seem to be capable of doing so, and because of that, I'm pulling the plug on the final 4 or 5 races. Few things in life are worse than being an Also Ran. Pride is a bitch, isn't it?

It's time to go to Plan C: Base Miles. With the exception of the numb fingers and toes, it's one of my favorite times of the year.

'Twas a month before Christmas

Because staying home to watch The Biggest Loser makes you the biggest loser.

Tuesday Night Ride

• Rolls @ 6:30 PM from the corner of Cypress & Cajon.
• Bring your mountain bike or cross bike, lights, AND A SPARE TUBE (it's a damn shame I even need to say that).
• 60-90 minute ride on pavement and dirt roads.
  

Come out and ride or you may end up on Dancing with The Stars doing the tango with obesity as your partner.

Now if only reality TV had my artistic standards

How many of you out there are actually aware of how much hard work it requires to maintain an interesting blog? Yes, there are many a blogger who will throw up just about anything to keep their blog from going without a post every couple of days. I say nay. Nay to that.

Painstaking thought and brainstorming, a lengthy outlining process, and frequent edits are just three of the dozen steps I take to finalize an intriguing narrative, anecdote, parable, and even the occasional fable. I even sometimes check spelling and grammar before lighting the fuse. And forget about it if there’s not at least one quality image to accompany my chronicle. It better be one helluva yarn to go live without an Associated Press quality photo.

Only after all the required steps are met do you, the reader, get to lay eyes on my e-memoir. So, I could sit and write all about how Trevor, Christie, Steve and I went for a night ride on Thursday, and how Ryder and I kick out the jams while we’re in the car, and how I locked myself out of the house the other morning, and how me and Johnson saw the Pleiss’ at Panera Bread during lunch, and how I’m dangerously addicted to Ohana self-serve Fro-Yo, or even how the Great Southern California Shakeout turned into an actual disaster when only one person on my floor at work participated in the drill. But I say nay.

Instead of a daily account of my mundane life as a bike racer (and in turn a pipe dreamer), an emotionally unhealthy admirer of Shane MacGowan, T. Duggins, and Bob Dylan, and a hopeless romantic that yearns for of all things yesteryear (including the indoor shopping mall), I present to you this:

The greatest Etch-A-Sketch of all time.

Now that's punk rock.

Listen for the bell Ryder. It tolls for thee.

The similarities are eery, yet not surprising, for it is his destiny.

Meanwhile, down in Costa Rica, Manny finished the first day of LaRuta strong. Better yet, he finished ahead of a notorious doper, who is said to have cracked on the third big climb of the day.

Elite men

1. Federico Ramírez (CRC) BCR-Pizza Hut 5.54.4


2. Paolo Montoya (CRC) Economy Rent a Car-Seven Capital 10.14


3. Enrique Artavia (CRC) Súper Pro-Economy Rent a Car 23.27


4. Manuel Prado (CRC) Sho Air-Rock and Road Cyclery 25.18


5. Roberto Heras (ESP) Giant España 25.21

How funny is that? The guy wins grand tours, but as soon as he has to race clean, he's 25 minutes from the front of the bike race. What a thieving dirt bag. I hope Manny and the other leaders twist the knife in the remaining stages.

Okay, no blog post should be complete without a photo (or two) of me carrying a bike.

I know the question you're asking yourself and the answer is; No, I did not trip over this barrier.

I can't think of a good caption for this one, so I'll just type a quote that will make the whole thing seem more meaningful and classy than it really is: "You climb for the hell of it." - Sir Edmund Hillary.

What comes around goes around.

Being sick sucks. Just when I thought I was well, I get a few laps into a cross race and realize that my lungs are full of fluid rather than air. So, I did what most phlegmy folks would do and I quit. I returned to the parking lot to find Ryder staring down the barrel of a well-soiled porta-potty. He too quit - at his attempt to use the over-flowing outhouse, stating that there was, “too much poop down there.” Instead he headed for some nearby bushes with the help of my dad, who is well-versed at using a bush as a urinal since he’s spent the better part of his life riding motorcycles in the desert. Meanwhile, I spent the rest of the afternoon coughing up junk, eating birthday cake & drinking a couple of beers with my dad, Ryder, Longo & Matt Breyer, compliments of the sisterhood of the traveling skinsuit. Or is it the sisterhood of the traveling chamois? I always forget. Anyway, the carrot cake and cold ones helped me forget that I’m not a very good CX racer even without a virus. Don’t let the recent photo of me and my cross bike in Velo News fool you. I was simply at the right place at the right time, which is pretty much what life is all about.

History has taught me that the few days after my birthday have been plagued by catastrophe: concussions, car accidents & other incidents too traumatic to mention. This year I even considered staying barricaded in my house to avoid all chance of disaster, but then I started thinking about carbon monoxide poisoning, earth quakes, and hurricanes and reasoned that really, nowhere is safe. With that in mind, I threw caution to the wind and faced my fears head on by going for a morning ride on wet roads. Amazingly I made it back home unscathed. More amazingly, so did my riding partners, Joey & Jamie. We have lived to ride another day.

As you can probably tell from the two preceding lack-luster paragraphs, few things inspire me lately other than Ryder. I’m even uninspired to ride my bike. In an effort to gain at least a little enthusiasm about something, I’ve been listening to a lot of music and reading a lot old punk rock books, but still no epiphany or trace of revolution. Coincidentally and somewhat puzzling, is that Ryder’s favorite Tosser’s song at the moment is Everything’s Bad. When we’re in the car he demands to hear Everything’s Bad. If I don’t play it, he demands to hear song number 17, which is, well, Everything’s Bad.

The cold ground was my bed last night,
With a breeze so hard it could kill
With friends like these, who needs to die?
So I stay here for the thrill
My last five pounds to get me home
Well, get me some bacon and whiskey
I'll meet her there in all my stinkin' glory
Drunk or Sober
I went down by the roses
Cause me hope, she did call
She said she had to see me soon
It was sadness on her mind
And I took with me my fiddle
And the worst, the best of my wine
And I met her there in sadness
Drunk or Sober
She sat under the tree,
And she smiled at me
And we watched the river roll
So I broke out with my fiddle
And I began to fiddle a reel
And she said no matter how funny
It hurts so bad I can't feel
I feel nothin'
I feel nothin'
Drunk or Sober
And I began to play my reel
For I did not know what to say
You worry me so, I hate this
I will not stand to see you this way
and sometimes it's just too much
How everything turns out so sad
Oh, Danny don't you ever stop playin' for me
Oh, Danny don't you ever stop playin' for me
You always make me happy while whenever you play
Oh, Danny don't you ever stop playin' for me
And i began to play me reel
For I did not know what to say

So, that’s what he makes me listen to over and over and over again. The kid’s only 3 and a half! I guess that’s what I get for making my parents listen to The Smiths for all those years. I’ve seen this happen in other people’s lives and now it’s happening in mine.

Don't hate the player, hate the enterprise

Last Wednesday Mer, Mom, & I took Ryder & Destry to the house of the mouse. Between Disneyland & California Adventure, they have a few new and cool rides.

They're mainly cool because you get to shoot stuff.

Don't stare into Minnie's eyes for too long. You'll suddenly find yourself with an annual pass.

By the time the day was over, I had a nasty head cold that I'm still trying to get rid of. Being sick makes it even harder than it already is to do this:

http://kennedyphotoworks.smugmug.com/gallery/6457693_ck8Eu#411156743_Hh7Li

And somehow, I managed to keep my mouth shut during most of it until now.

Good, bad, or indifferent, thank Allah it's over. Now we can get back to {insert what really matters to you here} instead of listening to, or reading about exaggerated experience, appalling accusations and empty promises. I can't even read a bike blog anymore without stumbling over someone's rant about electing the candidate of their choice. That's annoying. That's not bicycling. More than ever, this campaign seemed like a plague. Yet, how easily we forget that we've heard it all before; 4 years ago and the 4 years prior to that. And guess what? We'll hear it all again in another 4 years.

So is it the man (or woman) you believe in or do you just believe what they're feeding you? I believe that talk is cheap (unlike the sickening price tag put on this election). But I also believe that neither candidate knows how to do my job any better than I (or you) know how to do theirs, and because of that belief, I'm confident in both men and in the men and women they appoint.

Some have accused me of being apathetic, but that's just them running their own negative campaign against me. The reality is, I was apathetic about it all, mostly because things and those close to me have, and will have a greater impact on my life than the next president. My relationships with people are far more important than any political arguments or quarrels. I'm not suggesting that you don't stand up or vote for what you believe in. I just find it amusing how politically-aware everyone seems to get when any other time, they're more concerned with their American Idol vote than what's going on in their local government.

Yesterday most of us fulfilled our civic responsibility by voting, but we failed miserably in the department of moral responsibility. By passing Measure 8, the California majority has a moral compass pointed in the direction of selfishness and bigotry, not unlike the moral compass of Nazi Germany.

Let’s say for example, a law was passed preventing green eyed people from buying a home, which meant they could only rent and not buy. Like Nazi Germany, that makes no sense to me either.

It also doesn't make sense to me how people who don't go to church, don't read the bible, haven't read the bible in its entirety, and choose to "sin" when it's convenient for them, have suddenly decided to reference the bible when arguing that gays should not be allowed to marry. There's a specific word for people like that.

hypocrite: a person who pretends to have virtues, moral or religious beliefs, principles, etc., that he or she does not actually possess, esp. a person whose actions belie stated beliefs.

You have disgraced yourselves once again.

At one time in this country women and African Americans weren't allowed to vote. Now they have a vote deciding whether or not two people can legally be married. That's ironic. What's more ironic is that in this election there was a black dude and a chick on the ballot. Maybe in a few decades we'll elect a legally married black gay woman. That would be super.

Did I mention my non-gay cousin got married a couple weeks ago?

Steven & Sarah, the bride and groom dance.

Ryder and Destry will dance with anyone.

Meredith and Destry say, "Cheese is bad."

Joey and Ryder have been watching too much Dancing with the Stars.

At times the whole thing looked more like daycare than a wedding, but then later on in the night there was a fight and someone went to jail so it went back to feeling like a good old fashion IE wedding.