I’m glad you asked

The four words you seldom want to hear. These four words are normally followed by a long story that contains way too much detail and insignificance to your own life. In an ironic manner, “I’m glad you asked” is often later followed by the four word thought, “I’m sorry I asked.” So, what does this four-word question have to do with my blog and how does it concern you? I’m glad you asked.

Sometimes I want to answer certain questions with a much simpler two-word phrase: “Don’t ask.” For example, when someone asks me how National Championships went, I’m not going to perk up and say, “I’m glad you asked” and then explain how I had a horrible race and finished 11th. I’d much rather just say, “Don’t ask” and let that person use his/her imagination of a painful, horrible, and disastrous race. Actually, let’s create an official scale. “Don’t ask” in mountain bike racing terms translates into any finish outside of the top 5; and in road racing terms, to any finish outside the top 10.

Beware that a similar scale CANNOT be applied to everyday life. If you ask someone, “How was your day?” and they say, “Don’t ask”, you can automatically assume that they’ve had a bad day and they don’t want to talk about it. End of conversation. Simple, yet effective. However there is a flipside to this question in everyday life. If you ask someone, “How was your day?” and they answer, “I’m glad you asked”, then they’re obviously willing to talk about it whether they had a bad or good day. In that case, the asker is probably screwed because he/she is about to get an earful of way too much detail and insignificant information, as I brought up earlier. Or, the answer to “How was your day?” could be, “Why do you ask?” and that’s not good either because it sounds standoffish and that’s just bad manners.

The only time it’s appropriate to answer a question with “Why do you ask?” is when someone asks something like, “You live in Muscoy, right?” or “Is that your red convertible Mustang parked out front?” Often times a question like that is followed by bad news. Actually, the answer to those questions can also be followed by bad news. If the straight forward answer to either of those questions is “Yes”, then the chances are you’re already down on your luck because you live in Muscoy or you’re an idiot because you drive a red convertible Mustang.

Anyway, how did the state race up at Rim Nordic go this weekend? Don’t ask.

I got sixth, but it sure beats living in Muscoy or being the owner of red convertible Mustang. That's just tacky.

Le Tour is over, so instead of watching bike racers suffer, I might as well watch seals and surfers suffer. It’s Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. Thank goodness because I was already suffering from Tour withdraws.

Denise is at a conference for a while so Ryder and I watched about 2 hours of sharks last night. To my horror they showed a solid hour of leaping great whites. Jumping sharks? When did this horrifying phenomenon start? I’ve heard of TV shows jumping the shark, but sharks jumping on TV? I don’t know which is worse; watching great whites snatch seals from 10 feet above water or suffering from Tour withdraws. They both make me sweat. I’ve seen photos of jumping sharks before, but it’s becoming standard practice for great whites down in South Africa. I think I’ll stick to land. Ryder, on the other hand, is not fazed by what he witnessed last night. He woke up this morning and wanted to go swimming. I took him to school instead. That fazed him.

Next Topic

Ever go to Google and the logo has changed to represent a holiday, season, or major event? You know - on Halloween it’s covered in cob webs and on Independence Day it’s on fire because of a fireworks accident. How about the days when you go to Google and the logo is different and you can’t figure out what it’s supposed to represent? Then you panic, “What happened? What am I missing? What holiday is it?”

Today I learned that if you click on the custom logo it will take you to a listing of topics related to the event. For example, today there are rockets, satellites, and planets all over the Google logo. When I first went to Google this morning I thought maybe we landed on Jupiter or something and found a cure for cancer, but it’s just a celebration of NASA’s 50th year of zillion-dollar budgets and Tang endorsements.

Happy Birthday NASA!

I think I’ll go pedal my bike…

USA Cycling Mountain Bike National Championships, July 17-20: West Dover, VT

I don't want to talk about it.

Instead, let's use colorful pie charts to compare my life to Ryder's.

Mom wants to see more photos

More from Windham, NY: There are several lakes in and around Windham. The smallest one is on the Kelly Acres property.


The Windham countryside.


Back at the race venue, I lined up for Sunday's Short Track race. Moments after this photo was taken, this photo was taken. I'm somewher in that mess.

I've spent the week in Schenectady, NY at Christie Pleiss' mom's house (Mary Beth). She has wi-fi, a 50-inch flat screen and the Versus channel, so it's a sweet set-up. There's the best bike path I've ridden that lines the banks of the Mohawk River, so my evenings have been spent spinning up and down the river. The weather has been good, but reports of scattered thunderstorms at Mount Snow, Vermont got us worried so we rented a car on Thursday and drove to the venue to do a lap on the race course before it gets muddy. The course is much different from last years. As of last night it was perfect, but if the rain comes it will get nasty.

Today at noon we'll head back out there for the weekend. The U-23s raced yesterday. Sam Jurekovic, the defending champion and one of our housemates in Windham crashed hard in the first 3 minutes of the race. He was walking around the venue later in the day and said he may give it a go on Sunday's short track. Too bad he'll miss the XC. He's been on the gas. His National Team teammate, Tad Elliot, aslo one of Windham housemates ended up with the win and the U-23 Championship. They're both super nice dudes.

Hopefully I'll get to copy Tad's victory salute on Saturday morning...

I won one.

Fontana, no. Arizona, not quite. Santa Ynez, almost. Park City, nope. I had to go all the way to Windham, New York to win a National Mountain Bike Series Single-Speed Race.


Then on Sunday I threw caution to the wind and raced the Pro Short Track on my mono-gear. It was fun while it lasted.


Seeing that Saturday was a single-speed race and all, Longo had an ice cold Bud waiting for me at the finish line. It was the best tasting Budweiser I've ever had. It may have been the only Budweiser I've ever had.


A gang of us bike racers stayed at an inn in the Catskills called Kelly Acres. The owners made breakfast for us each morning and they even had the Versus channel so we could watch Le Tour.


I like this bike.


The owners of Kelly Acres have a yellow lab named Einstein who is allowed to attend the city council meetings in downtown Windham. Einstein is camera shy so I have no photos of him. The most recent town meeting addressed a disturbance in town because someone was running their tractor with the high beams on at 9:08 PM. Einstein will put an end to that type of behavior.


Kelly Acres. Go there.

Deer Valley

I went to a bike race in Deer Valley, Utah. Here's what I saw:

There's a bike path from the condo that we stay in every year in Park City to the race venue in Deer Valley. Along the bike path there is interesting stuff to see.

This dog's seat looks a little high. He should probably go see Mike.

Larry Longo is already famous, but now he's more famous because he gave the Salt Lake City CBS station an interview. I wonder if Longo said anything about me?

This was part of my ride every day to and from the venue. Not bad.

My bike is the black one.

They like their white barns in Utah. Go figure.

At the end of every day on my ride back to the condo, I almost stopped and took a nap in this meadow.

The race course.

When the cat's away, the mouse will fall out of bed and split his brow open.

Über Euro Edition: Part I

My cell phone rang yesterday & it showed a 420 area code. I ignored it, looked up the area code & found that 420 is somewhere in Wisconsin. I don’t know anyone in WI anymore. As I’m trying to figure it out my voicemail goes off. It turned out to be my Czech friend Robert calling to tell me that his daughter was born. 420 wasn’t the area code, it was the country code for Czech Republic. Robert followed up the voicemail with an email a few hours later:

My Dear Friends and Colleagues,

I am very happy to let you know that today on June 24th at 6:18 AM was born our second daughter, Eliska Hordossy. She weighs 8.8lb (3.99kg) and she is 20inches (51cm) tall. All is well with all of us.

With Kind Regards,
Robert Hordossy

Robert lived in the U.S. for a few years and we worked and rode together regularly. The guy is a stand up dude, tough as nails, but I fear for the innocent adolescents of his two daughters. He and his wife Jana are building a house in Prague and knowing Robert, they probably built an Eastern Block style gymnasium to raise the girls as Olympic Gymnasts, skiers or even weight lifters. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of Baby Eliska’s first vaccinations is laced with some sort of performance enhancing serum.

By the looks of that tan line, it looks like Robert's been riding a lot. Good man.

I might have to.

If like bikes and you must because you're reading this blog, then the one piece of training advice I can offer is to listen to Jens Voigt's training advice. Yes, I realize that it’s not easy to listen to a German, much less trust one, but Jens is single-handily suffering for the sins of the German people by being the toughest bike racer on earth. Maybe even the toughest human on earth – that’s up for debate. Anyway, listen to what Jens has to say.

This man is Über Tough because he suffers for the sins of your German ancestors.

Okay, I'm all Euroed out already.

Not all death marches turn out to be epic. Some turn out to be just plain stupid.

Take Saturday for example. The plan was for Joey, Jamie, & I to do Raincross and then turn around and head to Huntington Beach where the women and children would be waiting and frolicking in the ocean. I estimated it to be a 90 to 100-miler and that we’d be napping on the beach by noon. Yeah, it was going to be a hot and long ride, but I’d done it before. No big deal.

It occurred to me that it was indeed a big deal during the Raincross portion of the ride. The pace was super fast, there were only 8 of us in the lead group, and 2 of the 8 still had to ride another 50 miles in 100 degree temps to reach our final destination. The smartest thing we did all day was pull the plug at VanBuren, did an about face, and began riding to the beach earlier than planned.

To make a long, hot, and painful story short, we made it, but it wasn’t pretty. None of us ate enough during the ride and the headwind on the Santa Ana River Trail was as bad as I’d ever felt. I had the urge to blow chunks for the last ten miles, but given the wind speed, it would have been messy – both for me and my comrades. On a side note, I’ve always thought it would be hardcore to vomit in the middle of a ride and just keep going about your business as if it never happened.

I used to thrive on death marches, but not this time. On this day, the highlight was not pushing my body to its limit, but getting to play with the family on the beach.

One of our many water stops took place at Featherly Regional Park where they were having a classic auto car show. We looked for my dad, but we didn't see him.

During the Raincross ride Joey's heart rate monitor strap was sending nasty messages to his Garmin at the rate of 195 beats per minute.

Meanwhile at the beach, Ryder got all oiled up to work on his tan.

Destry was going for more of a tradational cyclist's tanline.

We crammed 5 adults, 2 kids, 2 car seats, 3 wheels, 3 helmets, 2 purses, 2 beach bags, an ice chest, & and a bunch of sand toys inside my car for the drive home. Everything else went on the roof. We Jam Econo!

You’d think after a 6 hour day in the saddle and suffering from a bit of dehydration, I’d give it a rest, but I’m not that smart. By 8:30 AM on Sunday morning I was riding up to South Fork with Uncle Greg, Edward, & Norm. Mountain bike rides don’t get much better than that.

I could be wrong, but I think we may have stopped here so Norm could adjust his saddle & seatpost.

We've Got a Bigger Problem Now

Today on the Yahoo Finance Web page, columnist Anya Kamenetz asks, Whose American Dream Is It, Anyway?

This brings up a question I’ve been asking myself for years, back since I was partially brain-washed by the Dead Kennedys and Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death was part of my regular cassette tape rotation. At that time I didn't believe everything that Jello Biafra was telling me just like I don't buy all of what Kamenetz is selling. I do however believe that far too many people in this country (consumers, developers, and politicians) believed that the American Dream could only be lived by residing in the suburbs under the roof of a tract home.

Now look what we have; transportation problems, a fuel crisis, and a sinking housing market. All of it contributing to the failing economy. Sounds more like the American Nightmare.

Now, I’m not complaining about growing up in the suburbs. I’m just saying that we’re beginning to pay the price for the impracticality of the suburb infrastructure model. The Roman Empire crumbled for its faults. Who’s to say ours won’t?

Kamenetz suggests that more people are now opting for “Time, Not Stuff” meaning they’re willing to give up material objects as a trade for working and commuting less - in turn they have more free time. More free time to ride, hike, travel, swim, and relax. This sounds less like the American Dream and more like my own personal dreams.

My Cell Phone Drowned

Other than the Grim Reaper coming for my cell phone yesterday, Father's Day was cool. I was moving some chairs around with phone in hand when it popped out of my hand, bounced off the concrete & then jumped in the pool. I caught it before the thing hit bottom, but it was too late. Turns out mouth to mouth doesn't work on cell phones. I pronounced my black Samsung dead at approximately 2:45 PM on Sunday, June 15. Needless to say, if you've tried to call or text me after then, you now know that I'm not ignoring you. I'm just disconnected from the world.

I talked to Verizon and since I have insurance they'll replace it after I pay a $50 deductable, or I can get any phone I want for $100 off. My main concern is that I've lost all my contacts because I didn't back them up on the Verizon Web site. So, if you're reading this and we're on speaking terms, please e-mail me your phone numbers to mattfreemanrace@yahoo.com Thanks.


Meanwhile, at bike practice...

We all got lectured by an old woman armed with a camera for urinating in public behind some dumpsters. As evidence for the cops she secretly photographed the suspects while they were taking a natural break. Gross. Obviously she is German.


Someone in this group could be going to the slammer for public urination. I wonder if Gloria Allred does pro bono work for cyclists too or if her services are only for females brandishing nipple rings in the airport?


In Riverside we made our usual stop at the Shell station on the corner of University and Iowa. As far as I know the only crimes committed were the price of gas and Chris Hoyt brandishing unshaven legs.


This is not from Saturday's scorching Raincross ride. Josh sent me this via camera phone when he was up in Oregon a couple weeks ago. I wonder what the ride down was like?

Justice, kind of

The U.S. Olympic Committee and the Union Cycliste Internationale recognizes me as a professional bike racer so even on a fat day I tip the scales at 145 pounds. If I travel with a bike, combined weight is still under two bills. Unfortunately, the Federal Aviation Administration and the airlines it governs doesn’t care what my UCI or drivers license says. A bike, bike case, tools, and my body weigh the same as the average American male (do the math & Google it), yet when I travel with a bike I am forced to pay anywhere from $50 to $150 extra, each way.

Very rarely will the attendant at the ticket counter waive the fee, but that’s as often as a customer at McDonald’s passing up the super size option. On the flip side, while checking in for a return flight, one attendant threatened to charge me double for escaping the bike fee on my outgoing flight. I talked her out of it, but silently wished the cow a life of unsuccessful dieting.

Sometimes it would actually be cheaper if I bought two round trip tickets and traveled with my bike in the seat next to me, but the chain rings are considered a deadly weapon so that’s not an option.

Well, guess what? My bike and I are still going to have to pay extra to travel with our steeds, but the scales are about to balance. The fellow passenger over-flowing into your middle seat may finally have to pay extra for his gluttonous lifestyle just like I have to pay extra for my healthy lifestyle.

Read it and weep O captain of the couch.

The fuel crisis and the obesity epidemic are apparently secret lovers.

A Brush with Blum, Part 2: I Fought the Law

I do not condone all of Richard Blum's actions, but I do beleive that his story must be told. The following is the second installment of my 137-part series called A Brush with Blum.

• "My first encounter with the law was when I was 16. My buddy Gary and I had just scored a 12-pack of beer and were headed back to my house because my parents were on vacation. We were one block from my street when a cop red lit us for rolling a stop sign. The cop drug us both out of the car and started grilling Gary about who sold us the beer. I started to slowly back away and then I ran. Since I was in my own neighborhood I was able to go through back yards and over walls to get home, where I hunkered down. About 30 minutes later, Gary shows up with the beer! After I took off running the cop went looking for me and after10 minutes of sitting on the curb he decided to do the same. Man, we got drunk that day.
  
  When I was a little older I was driving around and I noticed a bunch of crows in a lemon grove so I went home and returned with my pellet gun. I was plucking those babies off one by one and they were making a hell of a racket. Suddenly a police car appeared at the other end of the street with his red lights on. The cop was far enough away for me to take off, so I got a good jump on him and was able to make a few turns and get into the alley which took me all the way home where I was once again safe.
  
  A few more years after that I was riding to L.A. in my friend’s 1960 Cadillac to go see WWF wrestling. My friend’s nickname was Batman because his car was flat black with florescent orange bat symbols on the doors. Anyway, we were driving down the 10 freeway when a cop pulls up along side of us. Of course he looked over at us and of course we were chugging beers so he points at us to pull over. Just then the freeway splits and we go one way and he goes the other. We quickly got off on the next exit and took surface streets to the L.A. Sports Arena safe and sound.
  
  Running from the cops is generally a bad idea and it seems people get caught every time but I’m 3 for 3 in getting away." - Blum

This has been part 2 of my 137-part series called A Brush with Blum. For Part 1, see Wednesday, May 7.

No stunt men or body doubles here. Blum played himself in the 1984 punk rock documentary, Another State of Mind.

Help me understand

Live bands at small venues play too loud: Last Saturday there was a live band at the ribbon cutting ceremony of the Hanger 24 Brewery. Even though I saw a lot of people I know, I couldn’t hear much of what they had to say because the sound was too loud and the band played non-stop. I wanted to buy one of the $38 growlers just so I could use it to smash one of the amplifiers. But that would be a waste of beer.

People with Jesus stickers on their vehicles are bad and often agro drivers: Today I turned west on to 5th Street well before other westbound traffic, yet when the car behind me caught up it tailgated me until the road widened to 2 lanes. Then he passed and drove by the Mormon temple and Moore Middle School at 20 over. The last thing I saw was his middle finger and a Jesus sticker on the back of his minivan. He was coming from Yucaipa. Go figure. He’s lucky I had Ryder in the car with me; otherwise it would have been minivan versus minivan.

The checkout lines at Stater Bros are long: There must be something about their IT system that only allows 3 cash registers to function at once even though most Stater Bros have at least 8 registers. I know this because as I wait in line, Ryder likes to count the checkout stands over and over again. He’d probably know how to count to 50 by now if he’d count all the people waiting in line.

You can still have a good race when you’re sick: On Memorial Day I started coming down with a cold so by Thursday I had pretty much written off Sunday’s state race up in Big Bear. I decided I’d show anyway, but wasn’t expecting much. As it turns out I managed a third place behind Manny Prado and Chuck Jenkins. Not bad podium company. I sneezed on Chuck.

In the absense of podium girls, I decided to show off a little midriff of my own.

A week after finishing two crits in two breaks in Ontario, Jeff Padgett was up on the Santa Ana River Trail with us cutting up his face. That's the way the face bounces.


His five-stitch wound got no sympathy from Greg and Edward. Poor Jeff couldn’t even talk trash back to them because his mouth was too swollen, cold, and full of blood. Still, he was a good sport about it.


“Dis bedda nod be on Feeman’s bog.” Of course not Jeff.


The view from Monday's Big Bear ride overlooking the Santa Ana River Valley.

Around Town

I wish Steve would quit eating kittens.

Met this dude last night. His name is Jerrad. He has some pretty good photos from last Thursday's bike practice on his blog and even better ones on his Flickr.

Here's a good photo of me and Lap Dog. I call him Lap Dog because he likes to just sit, but then in the last corner he likes to bite your ankles. You know how some people say that if they ever come up missing or dead that it would probably be because of a certain person? Well, if I ever crash on a group ride, it'll probably be because Lap Dog chopped my wheel.

Even though his banner is an image of a baseball park (America’s lamest pastime), and even though his “About Me” profile says something about him getting paid to do stuff that most people pay to do (balance check books?), and even though his most recent blog entry is bad-mouthing Grand Terrace, I told Mark Foist I’d link to his new blog from mine, so here it is. Don’t blame me if you start communicating in Sienfieldisms, develop excessive knee pain, and use the word wicked before all adjectives.

Joey's Getting Fit

Mike came over to the house to fit Joey on his new bike.

I thought it was going to be a monumental event since Joey's broken his neck, a femur, an elbow, and a foot, but it really didn't take that long.

Sometimes being on a trainer and in front of Mike's computer is a very painful place to be, but not during a routine bike fit.

Um, you add your own caption here.

Other Stuff

We went up and raced the 3rd round of the National Mountain Bike Series in Santa Ynez last weekend. I came away with a second in the Singlespeed race, but brought up the back of the pack in Sunday's Pro Short Track. It was a fun weekend nevertheless.

Adam Hart has a blog now and I'm jealous of his banner. I'm sure it will have some good gas station and Willie Stewart stories. I can't get enough of those.

Scotty Tickmeyer is over in Belgium racing with the Junior National Team. He's supposed to be sending me some race updates, but all I've heard so far is that he got food poisoning. That ain't good.

That's all I got.

A Couple of Mothers

In honor of Mother’s Day I thought I’d send my mom and Denise, the mother of my child some interview questions. They’ll answer them individually without seeing the others’ answers. Let’s see if my influence in their lives will lead to similar answers. Oh, and I reserve the right to comment on any answer.

What actor should play me if they made a movie about my life?
Denise: Geez, start off with a hard one! If I get to play myself, then Keanu Reeves. If not, I suppose I'll go with...Matt Damon. Same name, about the same size. (I’m a better actor than Keanu Reeves and I’m not even an actor. – MF)
Mom: I'm still pondering this question. (You’re still pondering this question because you don’t know the names of actors. – MF)

What were you doing when you found out I had crashed at Perris Raceway and was in the Menefee Valley Hospital?
Denise: I was getting ready for a parent meeting at Chula Vista High School. I had to explain to the parent what happened so we made it quick and I got out of there. I was a bit shaken up, so I called my brother and he drove me out there. I had no idea that going to the hospital was going to be a regular gig. Thank goodness those days are over. (Thanks, you just jinxed me. – MF)
Mom: On vacation at the beach up north.

What were you doing when you found out I had crashed coming down Sunset and was at Beaver Clinic getting stitches in my face?
Denise: Wow, that wasn't that long ago and I totally can't remember. I do remember going to the crash site later and all of the pictures you took.
Mom: I was at home - I came to sit with you in the waiting room-- REMEMBER! (Why are you yelling at me? – MF)

What’s your favorite Ryder story?
Denise: I can't think of what my favorite story is (there are so many), but my favorite thing he says is, "Not today; maybe tomorrow."
Mom: I really like how he led the clapping after every song while on stage at the Spring Sing. (It should be noted that Ryder refused to actually sing at the Spring Sing, but he did clap after not singing every song. – MF)

What’s your favorite Twiga story?
Denise: I have so many great memories of her while we were growing up, but now I always think of that whole car dealership bombing thing. I also can't forget how she stuck up for me at my first RHS party (long story), and everyone thought her name was Chiga. (Bombing? I think she set it on fire. There’s a big difference. –MF)
Mom: She reminded me of Mary in the Peter, Paul & Mary.

What do you think of Shane MacGowen?
Denise: I can't get past the teeth. (Beauty is skin deep. - MF)
Mom: Too bad the drugs messed up his voice. (Don't forget about the alcohol. - MF)

Do you think Ryder will ever learn how to use the toilet?
Denise: As I type this, I am smelling a poopy diaper. I told him to go tell Daddy to change him, but he said, "I want Momma to do it." I hope he learns how to use it ASAP. I can't believe stickers and M & M's won't even do the trick. I plan to keep him naked most of the summer so he will quit going in his diaper, but experience tells me he'll probably just crap on the carpet. He's been known to pee on the train table.
Mom: Yes--Have patience.

If you found $500 what would you buy me?
Denise: Some new clothes. I'm sick of hearing you say you don't have anything to wear or nothing fits. Just face it - you should buy extra small. (Extra small may give me a muffin top. – MF)
Mom: A bike accessory--What else?

What was your first bike?
Denise: I don't know, but I think it was yellow and I got it for Christmas.
Mom: I'm not sure what my first bike was but I remember my "Pink Witch" bike from Don’s.

If Ryder and I decide that he’s going to forgo college, move to Europe and become a pro bike racer, are you going to give us grief?
Denise: Isn't that what I do best? (Yeah, you’re pretty good at it. – MF)
Mom: No-I'll go on tour with you guys.

So far, how do you like being a mother?
Denise: I love it. Even though he sprayed me with the hose tonight when I asked him to turn off the water and his favorite thing to say to me is, "You are a bossy engine!" he is the best thing in the world. (Maybe if you weren’t giving him grief, he wouldn’t call you a bossy engine. – MF)
Mom: IT'S THE BEST GIFT IN THE UNIVERSE! (Quit yelling at me Mom. I’m not a child anymore. – MF)

A Brush with Blum: Part 1

One of the most interesting people I know, who doesn't ride bikes, is Richard Blum. He has more stories than me and since he’s old, he got to experience the real southern California punk rock scene in the 80s. The following is the first installment of my 137-part series called A Brush with Blum, followed by a short bio of the man himself.

• “My buddy’s uncle had a wrecking yard. Every now and then someone would dump a car that still ran. One time we scored a diesel VW Rabbit and we took it to go see The Exploited at the Olympic Boxing Auditorium. Of course the Rabbit broke down on the way there - right under the interchange of the 10, 101, and 5 freeways in L.A. There was no shoulder so we got out and climbed up onto a wall to get away from traffic. While we were standing there trying to decide what to do an off-duty cab driver rolled up and offered us a ride at no charge. After we got in the cab we found out that he was high on PCP, but he got us to the show. After the show, there was one hell of a riot. It even made the TV news and the L.A. Times. We got a ride back to Upland after the show laying in the back of a Chevy Luv pick-up. Besides the wind, a light rain was falling so it was a miserable ride home. Good times.” - Blum

Richard Blum was born in 1964 in Newark, New Jersey, however his family moved to Upland, California when he was 2. Blum says that Upland used to be very rural with lots of lemon and orange groves. As a teenager he had a motorcycle and would ride all over town with his BB gun and shoot at anything and everything. When he wasn’t shooting things he was skateboarding and BMX riding at the famed Pipeline Skate Park and the infamous Mount Baldy pipe.

Blum was never much for organized sports although he did play some football and baseball at Damien High School, an all boys school in LaVerne. He was teammates with Mark McGuire and claims that he had a higher batting average than McGuire. Blum also says there was no evidence of McGuire’s alleged steroid use in high school. In the early 80s Blum gave up sports to pursue beer, girls, and punk rock music (the latter he claims is his calling). He spent the decade going to punk shows and seeing acts such as:

The Ramones (in Rubidoux!), Circle Jerks, Social Distortion (at a Chino backyard party in 1982), PiL (Johnny Rotten closed the show with God Save the Queen and Anarchy in the U.K.), DRI, GBH, Black Flag, The Adolescents, TSOL, The Addicts, Youth Brigade, Buzzcocks, Stiff Little Fingers, Dead Kennedys, Misfits, Minor Threat, X, and The Cramps.

Blum, himself, can be seen in the punk rock documentary Another State of Mind.

All good things must come to an end and Blum’s punk rock life slowed down when his daughter Amanda was born out of wedlock. Having a mouth to feed, other than his own, forced him to settle down and get a real job (kinda). Today Blum lives in Riverside, California with his wife April and his youngest daughter Annabel. Although he still loves good old fashioned punk rock, Blum also loves fast boats. Now 44, he says all he wants is a $100,000 cruiser boat with a slip at Dana Point and vacation homes in Hawaii and Wyoming. “I can’t stand crowds and the MTV false prophet lifestyle of southern California,” says Blum.

Sounds like he’s been watching a little too much of The Hills with Amanda.

This man saw The Exploited at the Olympic Boxing Auditorium and lived to tell about it.

In his defense, he would have won anyway

Ryder jumped the gun at the Run Through Redlands Kinder-Dash. They didn't restart the race because it's hard enough to get a bunch of 3 year olds lined up once, much less twice.

Then he and Destry wrestled on the grass at the Redlands Bowl.

Denise won her age division in the half marathon.

I was the only loser in the family this weekend. On Saturday I took 9th at the Idyllwild Spring Challenge - 15 minutes short of a thousand dollar pro cash purse. In my own defense above is the course profile. And unlike Ryder, I got a lack-luster start and had to play catch-up for 30 miles.

If you're like me and you like to make fun of people, take five minutes and read this.