And to think we just had a conversation about making more.Each of those is almost 3lbs.
Not sure, yet, if we're making limoncello as well. We need to get on that immediatamente if we are.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
It's starting to smell a lot like Christmas...
And to think we just had a conversation about making more.Each of those is almost 3lbs.
Not sure, yet, if we're making limoncello as well. We need to get on that immediatamente if we are.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
In!
It ends on a good note...
We were both feeling rather flat, so the workout was taking a little longer than normal. Not a big deal, really, but I'm one of those who prefers to be there to watch warm ups for a sporting event, and when it is a concert, I also like to see the opening act. In this case, Muse was to start playing at 7pm, which meant we needed to be rolling at 530 to make sure we got there in time. So we were already a little behind.
We rolled out at 545. Not awful at all. We were even blessed by the traffic God in that we didn't have to sit in much Metromess traffic for our first trip to the new Cowboy Stadium.
We'd reserved a parking spot that was outside of the stadium lots (this turned out to be a blessing), so we had a pretty good 1.5 mile walk to get to the stadium. After a few blocks, we realized an easy 1.5 mile walk is a lot easier, probably, if we didn't just do a workout before.
As big as the stadium is, we didn't see it because of other buildings until we were right up on the parking lot, which is massive. Kinda unnerving to be walking somewhere new and not see something like a stadium, but with all the traffic and people, we figured we were going the right way. It was about 645 when we first set foot on the Cowboy Stadium parking lot, and the cars going in weren't moving. By 7:00we were looking for an entrance into the concert,
We walked up to the first one to have our tickets scanned. The scanner made a different noise than it did for other tickets, and we were told to go to another entrance. No big deal.
We walked around the stadium and found another entrance with many, many more people. We waited in that line, got to the ticket scanner thing, and then the same not-the-same scanner sound was made. We were told to go to "entrance C", and I was shown on our tickets how I should have known this from the get go.
So we completed our near lap of the stadium and found entrance C, which was close to entrance D, which is where we initially tried to go in. We now know what the stadium looks like from all sides on the outside.
We got through the line to the scanner at entrance C quickly. We got the same "not good" scanner sound. Scanner guy told us we needed to go to the box office. The box office wasn't too far away, thank goodness. I reckon it was about 745 at this point.
We get to the box office, and there are about 15 windows there, most having to do with Will Call and Purchasing. Those were the biggest lines. Two lines were dedicated to "Ticket Resolution". They weren't very long lines at all. Just a few people.
We stood in that line.
When we were next up in line, I looked at the email I was given by Chloe that told us what to do in case there was a problem.
Now, I was sort of prepared that there would be a problem, so I wasn't really all that frustrated. See, Chloe bought the tickets from our friend Mary. She bought the tickets from some outfit called Stub Hub, who offered the tickets from some other seller. So, I was pretty far down the chain from original purchase. Call it pessimism or call it realism, but I expected at some point that I'd have to explain how I came into the tickets, and I was mentally prepared for this.
So, I was reading the email, and in it the thing clearly read that we DO NOT go to the box office for ticket resolution. An entire paragraph was there to explain that the venue can't help us because we didn't buy our tickets there. It gave us a number for Stub Hub to call if any problems arose. My thinking at the time was that it was a customer service thing, and with all of the expensive charges Stub Hub tacked on to things, that it meant I basically had an ally to get us into the concert.
I was on the phone saying "yes" and "no" to automated questions. I was on the phone pressing "1" for this and "2" for that. I was on the phone on hold waiting for a customer representative. I was on the phone long enough that my phone was hot to the touch, and I'd yet to speak to an actual person.
Meanwhile, I stepped out of line to deal with the call, as the email had instructed me to call them and not talk to the box office people. To do something, anything, Noah stood in line, and as he'd make his way to the front, he'd then go to the end of the line because I didn't know what to tell him at that point. he was basically just saving us a place in line, just in case.
After 40-45 minutes of holding, I talked to a customer service guy, who asked me all kinds of verification questions involving customer numbers, order numbers, Mary's zip code, her email address...and I scored a 100% on that test. He then gave me silence for 20s and told me he needed to send me "up" to a manager. OK...
...Another 10 minutes or so, and then I was talking to a manager. He apologized 17 times, told me Stub Hub really is swell, and that...well...that there wasn't jack shit he could do for us. He assured me that someone from Stub Hub would get back to me within 72 hours and file an Investigation Report. Yea!
There was some silence on the phone as he waited for me to do or say something, I guess, and I was silent while waiting for him to tell me where to go get my actual tickets to get into the concert. U2 was to start playing at any moment.
While messing with this damn phone call for an hour, I saw 10 or 12 groups of people go through Ticket Resolution. This was probably 70 or so people, all told. It would be a group of 12, then a couple, then a family, and so on. Only one couple actually walked away from that window and took valid tickets into the show. Everyone else went away in a pissed off cloud of swearing.
That's what I watched while on the phone for an hour.
So when the realization hit that Stub Hub wasn't getting us into the concert, I gave Chloe a call. Her first reaction was disbelief, of course, and then she wanted to call Mary, who I believe is in Poland at the moment, which is why we were able to get tickets in the first place.
Chloe told us to get tickets from a scalper, because she wanted us to get in that concert. Since I only had about $100, we weren't going to be able to get one ticket, much less a pair of tickets, but I appreciated the thought.
Since Noah and I still hadn't eaten, he said, "Let's just go get dinner." And I was thinking, "Yeah, but I'm willing to buy a $10 hamburger INSIDE."
If we'd have paid the $40 or $50 to park at the stadium, we'd have just walked to the car and left at that point. But since we had a hike, I figured I'd just go up to the Ticket Resolution window anyway. The Stub Hub guy told me not to do so, because if the tickets were invalid, the box office would keep them, and he wanted me to hold on to them. Whatever. I figured if we were already out the $400 in tickets, he could just use a receipt or something, because I really didn't want to look at the worthless tickets anymore.
We walked right up to the window (nobody in line at that point), I said, "evidently our tickets are invalid, but I figure you can tell me what they've told me at the entrance points so far".
The woman at the window scanned the tickets, the scanner made the same wrong scanner sound as before, and she looked at the scanner to read the code. She then got up, went to get a manager (I suppose he was a manager), and the two huddled over the scanner for a bit.
He punched something into the computer, she got on the phone. And we stood there. Just stood there. They weren't telling us anything, and I stood there pretty drained. Just waiting for them to tell me the same thing they told 70 other people over the last hour.
She moved close to the window to talk to me. I moved closer to talk to her. She explained to me that the tickets we had were sold before the stadium was finished being built, and the seats on our tickets don't actually exist.
While I was already beat down by the whole thing, I thought being flattened, finally, was appropriate enough.
Then she handed us new tickets. Evidently, just because we bought seats that didn't exist, that didn't mean there was a problem, other than that they'd assigned these tickets new, actual seats.
We ran into the stadium, paid $40 for a burger, sandwich, water and a beer. Ate it on the run, basically, and sat down just a couple minutes before U2 came out.
Our seats.
It took probably half of the concert to really settle in and relax, but I got to see U2, and I got to see them with Noah. It was absolutely worth it all.
We were both feeling rather flat, so the workout was taking a little longer than normal. Not a big deal, really, but I'm one of those who prefers to be there to watch warm ups for a sporting event, and when it is a concert, I also like to see the opening act. In this case, Muse was to start playing at 7pm, which meant we needed to be rolling at 530 to make sure we got there in time. So we were already a little behind.
We rolled out at 545. Not awful at all. We were even blessed by the traffic God in that we didn't have to sit in much Metromess traffic for our first trip to the new Cowboy Stadium.
We'd reserved a parking spot that was outside of the stadium lots (this turned out to be a blessing), so we had a pretty good 1.5 mile walk to get to the stadium. After a few blocks, we realized an easy 1.5 mile walk is a lot easier, probably, if we didn't just do a workout before.
As big as the stadium is, we didn't see it because of other buildings until we were right up on the parking lot, which is massive. Kinda unnerving to be walking somewhere new and not see something like a stadium, but with all the traffic and people, we figured we were going the right way. It was about 645 when we first set foot on the Cowboy Stadium parking lot, and the cars going in weren't moving. By 7:00we were looking for an entrance into the concert,
We walked up to the first one to have our tickets scanned. The scanner made a different noise than it did for other tickets, and we were told to go to another entrance. No big deal.
We walked around the stadium and found another entrance with many, many more people. We waited in that line, got to the ticket scanner thing, and then the same not-the-same scanner sound was made. We were told to go to "entrance C", and I was shown on our tickets how I should have known this from the get go.
So we completed our near lap of the stadium and found entrance C, which was close to entrance D, which is where we initially tried to go in. We now know what the stadium looks like from all sides on the outside.
We got through the line to the scanner at entrance C quickly. We got the same "not good" scanner sound. Scanner guy told us we needed to go to the box office. The box office wasn't too far away, thank goodness. I reckon it was about 745 at this point.
We get to the box office, and there are about 15 windows there, most having to do with Will Call and Purchasing. Those were the biggest lines. Two lines were dedicated to "Ticket Resolution". They weren't very long lines at all. Just a few people.
We stood in that line.
When we were next up in line, I looked at the email I was given by Chloe that told us what to do in case there was a problem.
Now, I was sort of prepared that there would be a problem, so I wasn't really all that frustrated. See, Chloe bought the tickets from our friend Mary. She bought the tickets from some outfit called Stub Hub, who offered the tickets from some other seller. So, I was pretty far down the chain from original purchase. Call it pessimism or call it realism, but I expected at some point that I'd have to explain how I came into the tickets, and I was mentally prepared for this.
So, I was reading the email, and in it the thing clearly read that we DO NOT go to the box office for ticket resolution. An entire paragraph was there to explain that the venue can't help us because we didn't buy our tickets there. It gave us a number for Stub Hub to call if any problems arose. My thinking at the time was that it was a customer service thing, and with all of the expensive charges Stub Hub tacked on to things, that it meant I basically had an ally to get us into the concert.
I was on the phone saying "yes" and "no" to automated questions. I was on the phone pressing "1" for this and "2" for that. I was on the phone on hold waiting for a customer representative. I was on the phone long enough that my phone was hot to the touch, and I'd yet to speak to an actual person.
Meanwhile, I stepped out of line to deal with the call, as the email had instructed me to call them and not talk to the box office people. To do something, anything, Noah stood in line, and as he'd make his way to the front, he'd then go to the end of the line because I didn't know what to tell him at that point. he was basically just saving us a place in line, just in case.
After 40-45 minutes of holding, I talked to a customer service guy, who asked me all kinds of verification questions involving customer numbers, order numbers, Mary's zip code, her email address...and I scored a 100% on that test. He then gave me silence for 20s and told me he needed to send me "up" to a manager. OK...
...Another 10 minutes or so, and then I was talking to a manager. He apologized 17 times, told me Stub Hub really is swell, and that...well...that there wasn't jack shit he could do for us. He assured me that someone from Stub Hub would get back to me within 72 hours and file an Investigation Report. Yea!
There was some silence on the phone as he waited for me to do or say something, I guess, and I was silent while waiting for him to tell me where to go get my actual tickets to get into the concert. U2 was to start playing at any moment.
While messing with this damn phone call for an hour, I saw 10 or 12 groups of people go through Ticket Resolution. This was probably 70 or so people, all told. It would be a group of 12, then a couple, then a family, and so on. Only one couple actually walked away from that window and took valid tickets into the show. Everyone else went away in a pissed off cloud of swearing.
That's what I watched while on the phone for an hour.
So when the realization hit that Stub Hub wasn't getting us into the concert, I gave Chloe a call. Her first reaction was disbelief, of course, and then she wanted to call Mary, who I believe is in Poland at the moment, which is why we were able to get tickets in the first place.
Chloe told us to get tickets from a scalper, because she wanted us to get in that concert. Since I only had about $100, we weren't going to be able to get one ticket, much less a pair of tickets, but I appreciated the thought.
Since Noah and I still hadn't eaten, he said, "Let's just go get dinner." And I was thinking, "Yeah, but I'm willing to buy a $10 hamburger INSIDE."
If we'd have paid the $40 or $50 to park at the stadium, we'd have just walked to the car and left at that point. But since we had a hike, I figured I'd just go up to the Ticket Resolution window anyway. The Stub Hub guy told me not to do so, because if the tickets were invalid, the box office would keep them, and he wanted me to hold on to them. Whatever. I figured if we were already out the $400 in tickets, he could just use a receipt or something, because I really didn't want to look at the worthless tickets anymore.
We walked right up to the window (nobody in line at that point), I said, "evidently our tickets are invalid, but I figure you can tell me what they've told me at the entrance points so far".
The woman at the window scanned the tickets, the scanner made the same wrong scanner sound as before, and she looked at the scanner to read the code. She then got up, went to get a manager (I suppose he was a manager), and the two huddled over the scanner for a bit.
He punched something into the computer, she got on the phone. And we stood there. Just stood there. They weren't telling us anything, and I stood there pretty drained. Just waiting for them to tell me the same thing they told 70 other people over the last hour.
She moved close to the window to talk to me. I moved closer to talk to her. She explained to me that the tickets we had were sold before the stadium was finished being built, and the seats on our tickets don't actually exist.
While I was already beat down by the whole thing, I thought being flattened, finally, was appropriate enough.
Then she handed us new tickets. Evidently, just because we bought seats that didn't exist, that didn't mean there was a problem, other than that they'd assigned these tickets new, actual seats.
We ran into the stadium, paid $40 for a burger, sandwich, water and a beer. Ate it on the run, basically, and sat down just a couple minutes before U2 came out.
Our seats.
Sunday Bloody Sunday.
It took probably half of the concert to really settle in and relax, but I got to see U2, and I got to see them with Noah. It was absolutely worth it all.
Friday, September 25, 2009
anyone have contact info for Daniel Webster?
Me: What are some words that begin with the letter "y"?
Buddy: Yo-yo. Yesterday. Yes.
Me. Good. What about the letter "m"?
Buddy: How about the letter "z"?
Me: Sure. Give me some words that start with "z".
Buddy: Zebra. Zipper. Xylephone.
Me: Hmm...actually, Xylephone starts with "x", but I know it sounds like "z".
Buddy: No, it's a "z". It goes zuh, zuh, zuh-xylophone.
Me: ...
Buddy: Zero.
Me: You know what. It's ok if you want xyxlephone to start with a "z". I'll back you up on that. (thinking that "ok, he'll get that one wrong on the test, but I think he can still pass.")
Buddy: Yo-yo. Yesterday. Yes.
Me. Good. What about the letter "m"?
Buddy: How about the letter "z"?
Me: Sure. Give me some words that start with "z".
Buddy: Zebra. Zipper. Xylephone.
Me: Hmm...actually, Xylephone starts with "x", but I know it sounds like "z".
Buddy: No, it's a "z". It goes zuh, zuh, zuh-xylophone.
Me: ...
Buddy: Zero.
Me: You know what. It's ok if you want xyxlephone to start with a "z". I'll back you up on that. (thinking that "ok, he'll get that one wrong on the test, but I think he can still pass.")
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
91% humidity erase board
Buddy was showing me how he could draw numbers in the air. Big numbers, with exaggerated arm motion and the bit. He started drawing 51...
...stopped. Looked at the air for a moment, then made an erasing motion and started again. Evidently he made his 5 backwards.
...stopped. Looked at the air for a moment, then made an erasing motion and started again. Evidently he made his 5 backwards.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Dr. Buddy
First week of school. Buddy is in kindergarten. Hasn't been in pre-school or anything like it other than gymnastics class since last year. Not real concerned, but concerned anyway about how he'd handle sitting in one spot for extended periods, being quiet when he was supposed to be, etc.
Well, he did have to go to timeout yesterday. Something about playing with something that needed to be put away. His teacher, Mrs Shark (how cool is that!?), said something to him along the lines of, "Buddy, you broke my heart." I imagine it was something like, "when you don't mind, it breaks my heart" or some context like that.
But when Buddy told me about his day, it went...
"I had to go to timeout. I broke Mrs. Shark's heart. But it's ok. She said I fixed it and then I could go play."
So there you have it. In kindergarten today, Buddy became a cardiologist. Don't ever knock Denton schools.
Well, he did have to go to timeout yesterday. Something about playing with something that needed to be put away. His teacher, Mrs Shark (how cool is that!?), said something to him along the lines of, "Buddy, you broke my heart." I imagine it was something like, "when you don't mind, it breaks my heart" or some context like that.
But when Buddy told me about his day, it went...
"I had to go to timeout. I broke Mrs. Shark's heart. But it's ok. She said I fixed it and then I could go play."
So there you have it. In kindergarten today, Buddy became a cardiologist. Don't ever knock Denton schools.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Buon Compleanno
Happy Birthday! Noah is 14 years old today. And the chicken coop needs to be cleaned out.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Getting to Oregon, got to Oregon, now let's get busy
40 hours in the van (or next to the van fixing stuff)
One flat on the van.
One flat on the trailer with no trailer spare and the only tire place anywhere nearby being closed.
Running out of gas in the void of civilization that is western Oregon (very much like getting to Terlingua via Alpine).
We actually got by very well on the trip. Good chemistry with the 12 people in the van.
Teamwork got that flat on the van changed in less than 20 minutes.
Rob went all charm school on the guy with the closed tire shop and got him to help us with the trailer tire.
Despite Rogut's warning about stopping to get gas before heading across Oregon, somehow the collective decision was to press forward. But if you have $400 and a number for AAA, you too can get 10 gallons of gas in the middle of nowhere at 3:00am, that will be enough to get you to the next town that has one gas station open, but an attendant (you can't pump your own gas in Oregon) who is drunk and spends 10 minutes puking behind your van before he can pump your gas for you.
After all that, you'll get to your rented house at 530am.
Most of the folks staying here with us have arrived, and we've settled in, complete with ping pong, foosball and hot tub. Scott, Lisa and Anelise arrive tomorrow, but I don't think we've used up all the fun yet.
But with all that done, we start racing (Danny, Imari and Noah) tomorrow with their Road Race.
Andrew and Megan's first races are Wednesday.
Ashley and Royce's first races are Thursday.
Everyone's Time Trial is Thursday.
Noah, Imari and Danny's Criterium is Saturday.
Royce, Megan, Ashley and Andrew have their Criteriums on Sunday.
One flat on the van.
One flat on the trailer with no trailer spare and the only tire place anywhere nearby being closed.
Running out of gas in the void of civilization that is western Oregon (very much like getting to Terlingua via Alpine).
We actually got by very well on the trip. Good chemistry with the 12 people in the van.
Teamwork got that flat on the van changed in less than 20 minutes.
Rob went all charm school on the guy with the closed tire shop and got him to help us with the trailer tire.
Despite Rogut's warning about stopping to get gas before heading across Oregon, somehow the collective decision was to press forward. But if you have $400 and a number for AAA, you too can get 10 gallons of gas in the middle of nowhere at 3:00am, that will be enough to get you to the next town that has one gas station open, but an attendant (you can't pump your own gas in Oregon) who is drunk and spends 10 minutes puking behind your van before he can pump your gas for you.
After all that, you'll get to your rented house at 530am.
Most of the folks staying here with us have arrived, and we've settled in, complete with ping pong, foosball and hot tub. Scott, Lisa and Anelise arrive tomorrow, but I don't think we've used up all the fun yet.
But with all that done, we start racing (Danny, Imari and Noah) tomorrow with their Road Race.
Andrew and Megan's first races are Wednesday.
Ashley and Royce's first races are Thursday.
Everyone's Time Trial is Thursday.
Noah, Imari and Danny's Criterium is Saturday.
Royce, Megan, Ashley and Andrew have their Criteriums on Sunday.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Here we go again
Getting ready for a trip to Junior Road Nationals. I haven't yet quite fully unpacked from track nationals yet, but that's the way summer goes for us, it seems.
With a few more people going to road nationals, we have to take the trailer to carry all of the gear. Chloe has been getting that sorted out with all the bike and wheel mounts. Noah has been helping her with that, and I just periodically look out my office window to check their progress. It's looking good. Not "pro", but then again, there's no "pro" budget. Just whatever money is on our pocket. Still, it'll be nice to have it set up so that we can be somewhat organized. 12 bikes, the race wheels, the rollers and trainers, the folding chairs, etc and so forth...it takes up some space.
We also rented a van for this one. 12 people don't fit in the Honda or Toyota, which is what we have taken to Nationals trips in the past. Wow! Renting a passenger van is expensive. Might need to hold more races next year. Or, we'll just save money and ride the bikes to Nationals. But for this year, at least we'll have four drivers to help us knock out the 30+ hour drive to Bend, Oregon.
We also rented a house for this trip. While nobody has really complained about hotel/moteling it, we'll ultimately have 20 people there (a few folks flying in). That's a bunch of hotel rooms and even more meals eaten out. No thanks. We couldn't afford it anyway. So, we'll fill up the floor with air mattresses, get cozy, community kitchen...it'll be a great bonding experience or everyone will be looking for another team in early August.
We have some unfinished business from track nationals, so this trip to road nats is an opportunity to make up for it. That's not to say track nats didn't go well, because our guys raced their hearts out. But Noah had a tough break in the 500m TT, and that set up a game of "catch up" for the rest of the week. In a sporting analogy, Noah was swinging for the fences because doubles and triples wasn't going to get it done at that point. As a squad, we couldn't have done much better. Everyone came home with a medal from Nationals. Every junior on GS Tenzing has earned a medal at Junior Nationals.
Off to get some work done, bikes tuned and cleaned, last things organized. Here we go again!
With a few more people going to road nationals, we have to take the trailer to carry all of the gear. Chloe has been getting that sorted out with all the bike and wheel mounts. Noah has been helping her with that, and I just periodically look out my office window to check their progress. It's looking good. Not "pro", but then again, there's no "pro" budget. Just whatever money is on our pocket. Still, it'll be nice to have it set up so that we can be somewhat organized. 12 bikes, the race wheels, the rollers and trainers, the folding chairs, etc and so forth...it takes up some space.
We also rented a van for this one. 12 people don't fit in the Honda or Toyota, which is what we have taken to Nationals trips in the past. Wow! Renting a passenger van is expensive. Might need to hold more races next year. Or, we'll just save money and ride the bikes to Nationals. But for this year, at least we'll have four drivers to help us knock out the 30+ hour drive to Bend, Oregon.
We also rented a house for this trip. While nobody has really complained about hotel/moteling it, we'll ultimately have 20 people there (a few folks flying in). That's a bunch of hotel rooms and even more meals eaten out. No thanks. We couldn't afford it anyway. So, we'll fill up the floor with air mattresses, get cozy, community kitchen...it'll be a great bonding experience or everyone will be looking for another team in early August.
We have some unfinished business from track nationals, so this trip to road nats is an opportunity to make up for it. That's not to say track nats didn't go well, because our guys raced their hearts out. But Noah had a tough break in the 500m TT, and that set up a game of "catch up" for the rest of the week. In a sporting analogy, Noah was swinging for the fences because doubles and triples wasn't going to get it done at that point. As a squad, we couldn't have done much better. Everyone came home with a medal from Nationals. Every junior on GS Tenzing has earned a medal at Junior Nationals.
Off to get some work done, bikes tuned and cleaned, last things organized. Here we go again!
Friday, July 17, 2009
It's time...
...to gas up this truck and start rolling again.
Let me kick some dust off of things, change the oil, and get back at it.
And if you aren't interested, nobody is making you read this.
Let me kick some dust off of things, change the oil, and get back at it.
And if you aren't interested, nobody is making you read this.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
I thought I told you not to grow up
Was looking at Reanie this morning. Today is the last day of school. She'll no longer be in first grade. There is something about kindergarten and first grade that means the kids are still so young and small. But to think that she's going into second grade...
I told her "Last day to be a 1st grader", and she said, "Yes, and then I'll be 7, because 2nd graders are 7."
Seven? Nooooo!
Not that there's anything wrong with seven, but still now and then she let's me pick her up to hug her. I don't want that to go away. With her home during the day for the summer, I better make sure I get in a lot of them quick before they disappear.
I also know that eventually it would cause issues, but I sure do like the way she talks with these bottom teeth out.
I told her "Last day to be a 1st grader", and she said, "Yes, and then I'll be 7, because 2nd graders are 7."
Seven? Nooooo!
Not that there's anything wrong with seven, but still now and then she let's me pick her up to hug her. I don't want that to go away. With her home during the day for the summer, I better make sure I get in a lot of them quick before they disappear.
I also know that eventually it would cause issues, but I sure do like the way she talks with these bottom teeth out.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
New Training Partners
Pulled the trail-a-bike thing out of the barn the other day. I was going to sell it or give it to someone who might use it, but as I was cleaning it up, Reanie asked to go for a ride. Reanie (nor Buddy) can actually ride a two wheeler on their own yet. Haven't expressed much of an interest. In fact, I dare say that they had shown disinterest so far, but I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity once she did.
We gathered some of Noah's cycling clothes from when he was 5 and 6 years old, and it worked well to come up with stuff that fit. And a yellow jersey on top of that! That is how you start riding.
I put the trail-a-bike to my bash bike, which is a basic singlespeed thing. Reanie put an apple in her pocket for a treat on the ride, and off we went for a ride on the Jeter Loop.
We were about a mile away when she'd finished her apple. At two miles, she asked if I'd ever ridden that far before. At 2.5 miles, she asked if we were in another town yet and if Noah had ever ridden that far. She asked if anyone had gone this fast on a bike before (we were going 14-15mph), and she said, "We're FLYING!" and "Wwwweeeeee!" Lots. My face hurt from smiling. In fact, she never, ever stopped talking for that entire 10 mile ride, and never wanted her to stop talking, which is more than I can say about some folks I've ridden with.
When I told her we were half way, she asked if we could go further because she didn't want to go home yet. About 2 miles from home, she listed the parts on her that were getting sore, but she "...was ok and wanted to keep going. Can we ride again after dinner?"
When we pulled into the driveway, Buddy had cycling clothes and a helmet on as well. So his shorts were on backwards. Big deal. And they were a pair of mine, so they were a little (and only a little) big. But Reanie let him put on the shorts she just wore, and they fit him nicely as well, so there we went. And if they ever really get into riding or racing, I've got leverage on them about how they shared cycling shorts.
Now Buddy is different than Reanie. he doesn't talk much at all during the ride. But good gravy he hammers. He was going all out ALL OUT as soon as we were on the road. He blew a 1/4 mile later, but a 1/4 mile after that, he was recovered and hammering again, even while I was braking and trying to maneuver the big rig around a corner. We were cruising at what I estimate was 18-19 mph when he was on, and 13-14 mph when he was off. When we bogged on the hills, he stood up and yanked on the bars and thrashed at the bike to get it going.
That, my friends, isn't something you coach.
He called out, "Hello" to the horses and cows. He told them he was riding. But mostly, he just hammered away back there, and I tried to keep up with him.
Buddy also found the bell on the handlebars, and you'd know when he was recovered, because he's start ringing that bell and the bike would pick up speed and wiggle all over the place.
We did the same Jeter Loop. When I asked him if he wanted to go further, he wasn't as excited, but he did say, "I want to later." And I'm completely cool with that.
So, I've got two new training partners, and I couldn't be more excited about going 14-15mph with them. And I know we're on to something, because they've been asking often if we're going to train that day. As soon as SRM makes a one piece crank for the trail-a-bike, we're on it.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Purging without the bad breath
Dig far enough back in this blog (nobody is making you read this in the first place), you'll find posts about some kids from a team who has given Noah a hard time at the bike races. While the kinds of difficulty associated with making the races hard are welcome, and that can be the case with this other team, what usually stands out is their poor sportsmanship and general insulting nature.
On Saturday, our juniors said it was pretty much business as usual out there with the kids on this other team saying the normal stuff. Just bullies commenting on anything and everything just to try to get a reaction. Color of handlebar tape, that they are "gay", etc. But what really got Noah and our boys fired up is when when of these other riders called me an asshole.
I posted it up to Facebook that the incident happened, not mentioning names or even the team name, but it wasn't really necessary to do so. Anyone that spends time around junior racing (I think that at last count that this maybe all of a dozen people) in Texas knows who I'm talking about. But what amazes me is that some of the parents and people in the club claim that they had no idea that this behavior was going on.
In the past 3 or 4 years I've brought it up to their coaches and folks within their club. They seem to not recall these things, though at the time they assured me that they'd take care of it. Noah's been crashed twice, and both times the boy who caused it said he was going to do it, and then followed up, and then bragged about it. This isn't hearsay--I was standing right next to them when he said it.
So I have to ask, is anyone from this team watching these kids or listening to them talk? Because from the side of the road or course I can hear them say this stuff in the races. I hear it around the table at registration. I hear it around the parking lot. And I'm not the only one.
Yesterday (sunday) at the races, one of their parents says to me, "If my son said anything, you let me know, and I'll handle it." Honestly, I knew he was the parent of one of their kids, but I didn't know which one, and not all of the kids on this team are like this. My response was that the kids have been doing it for awhile, that this wasn't an isolated thing, and that *I'm surprised that anyone is making a thing about it at all now since it had been a thing for a long while and brought up to the parents and club previously.
Then he laid it out there heatedly, "Your son does it too. I've heard the stories. He talks as much trash as the rest of them." Which is rather funny, because moments before he wasn't aware that his boy did it at all. Turns out that he is the father of the kid who called me an asshole! And then he got loud with me about it telling me my kid is just as guilty...
While I don't want to be one of those parents who says, "Not my kid. No way" and then be surprised to find that they do drugs, collect stamps, or buy Nickelback CD's, I'm reasonably certain that Noah has never called this kid's dad an asshole.
But I think this guy was trying to say that Noah talks trash in races just like his kid who he didn't know was doing it. That is a math problem I'm having trouble solving.
Anyways, Noah was sitting with me when I posted up to Facebook that he could no longer race because of his trash talk. He laughed.
He laughed because he wasn't concerned about it being true. I suppose those who don't know him/us well would think it was because I wouldn't actually take racing away from him. What with what I do for a living and all that. Not so.
If I heard Noah cuss in a race at anyone or even about anything, he'd be done racing for a good long while. If I heard him talking the kind of trash I hear and picking on kids the way I hear them do to him and our other juniors (Imari puts up with a lot of crap too), he'd be done racing for a long while, if not for good.
Noah was once grounded from racing for two races because he didn't shake hands with a competitor after a race (yes, from that team). He insisted that he'd tried and that the boy just wouldn't let him. Convinced Noah was lying to me, he paid the price. That was a long drive home for him, and any time in the next week that I thought about it, my blood would boil in thinking that I had a kid who would not only lie to me, but do so over something like this.
He implored me to let him race. Offered to do chores above and beyond and below his pay grade. He promised that he did congratulate this boy, which would just make me madder.
That race weekend passed, we didn't even ride for a couple weeks. At the next race he asked me to watch what happens post race. Sure enough, when Noah tried, the kid pulled back and said, "Fucking loser" (or something similar to that effect. I wasn't close enough to hear the exact verbiage, but that first word was there). Noah ended up losing overall rider of the year that year by 18 points. That's less than what he'd get in one race. I no longer insist that Noah do the "good game" with them after the race.
Two years ago, Noah brought home a progress report that showed he had a B in a class. He was grounded from riding until he had a note from his teacher that it was brought back up to an A. Not once did we talk to the teacher about it. Noah had to take care of it himself.
So, when I hear that Noah is doing the same thing as these other kids, I may be in denial, but unless Noah is trying to passively quit racing, that just isn't happening out there, because the axe does fall hard when he gets out of line. Heck, it's fallen even when he didn't get out of line.
BUT, when they are mocking him in a race, and they ask, (use the tone of a sardonic teenager) "What is your strategy now, Noah?" and Noah responds, "I'm going to attack and try to drop you", that is not trash talk. That's a fact.
Noah didn't win a race this weekend, and he's as pleased as I've ever seen him post-race. He had a weekend of mixing it up with his teammates, and there were a couple of older, higher category juniors in there, and Noah was competing with them and holding his own. Sean picked up his first win in a "Cup" race. Imari continues to build upon his lead in the 10-14 Texas Cup. Hunter was out there riding apparently without pain sensors in his legs. It was summed up post-race when I asked, "What could you have done differently or better?" Everyone went to their limit. How we rode and performed was the best we could do this weekend.
Alright. This whole thing has now been purged from me. In the big picture, this is such a non-issue, but when I saw Noah vacillating between wanting to kick ass (with fists) and quit bike racing, it was worth doing something to try to put things closer back to center. I haven't seen Noah so ready to open up the throttle in a long while. This is going to be fun.
It's raining this morning. Noah thinks this is awesome. When it is raining, many others won't train, so it's like getting twice the benefit (if I could get him to clean the bikes afterwards, this would be so much better for me too).
Don't get me wrong, because if he wants to quit, I'm not going to stop him. Really. I mean, he's got some bike gear that I can use, and he just got new shoes that fit me too.
On Saturday, our juniors said it was pretty much business as usual out there with the kids on this other team saying the normal stuff. Just bullies commenting on anything and everything just to try to get a reaction. Color of handlebar tape, that they are "gay", etc. But what really got Noah and our boys fired up is when when of these other riders called me an asshole.
I posted it up to Facebook that the incident happened, not mentioning names or even the team name, but it wasn't really necessary to do so. Anyone that spends time around junior racing (I think that at last count that this maybe all of a dozen people) in Texas knows who I'm talking about. But what amazes me is that some of the parents and people in the club claim that they had no idea that this behavior was going on.
In the past 3 or 4 years I've brought it up to their coaches and folks within their club. They seem to not recall these things, though at the time they assured me that they'd take care of it. Noah's been crashed twice, and both times the boy who caused it said he was going to do it, and then followed up, and then bragged about it. This isn't hearsay--I was standing right next to them when he said it.
So I have to ask, is anyone from this team watching these kids or listening to them talk? Because from the side of the road or course I can hear them say this stuff in the races. I hear it around the table at registration. I hear it around the parking lot. And I'm not the only one.
Yesterday (sunday) at the races, one of their parents says to me, "If my son said anything, you let me know, and I'll handle it." Honestly, I knew he was the parent of one of their kids, but I didn't know which one, and not all of the kids on this team are like this. My response was that the kids have been doing it for awhile, that this wasn't an isolated thing, and that *I'm surprised that anyone is making a thing about it at all now since it had been a thing for a long while and brought up to the parents and club previously.
Then he laid it out there heatedly, "Your son does it too. I've heard the stories. He talks as much trash as the rest of them." Which is rather funny, because moments before he wasn't aware that his boy did it at all. Turns out that he is the father of the kid who called me an asshole! And then he got loud with me about it telling me my kid is just as guilty...
While I don't want to be one of those parents who says, "Not my kid. No way" and then be surprised to find that they do drugs, collect stamps, or buy Nickelback CD's, I'm reasonably certain that Noah has never called this kid's dad an asshole.
But I think this guy was trying to say that Noah talks trash in races just like his kid who he didn't know was doing it. That is a math problem I'm having trouble solving.
Anyways, Noah was sitting with me when I posted up to Facebook that he could no longer race because of his trash talk. He laughed.
He laughed because he wasn't concerned about it being true. I suppose those who don't know him/us well would think it was because I wouldn't actually take racing away from him. What with what I do for a living and all that. Not so.
If I heard Noah cuss in a race at anyone or even about anything, he'd be done racing for a good long while. If I heard him talking the kind of trash I hear and picking on kids the way I hear them do to him and our other juniors (Imari puts up with a lot of crap too), he'd be done racing for a long while, if not for good.
Noah was once grounded from racing for two races because he didn't shake hands with a competitor after a race (yes, from that team). He insisted that he'd tried and that the boy just wouldn't let him. Convinced Noah was lying to me, he paid the price. That was a long drive home for him, and any time in the next week that I thought about it, my blood would boil in thinking that I had a kid who would not only lie to me, but do so over something like this.
He implored me to let him race. Offered to do chores above and beyond and below his pay grade. He promised that he did congratulate this boy, which would just make me madder.
That race weekend passed, we didn't even ride for a couple weeks. At the next race he asked me to watch what happens post race. Sure enough, when Noah tried, the kid pulled back and said, "Fucking loser" (or something similar to that effect. I wasn't close enough to hear the exact verbiage, but that first word was there). Noah ended up losing overall rider of the year that year by 18 points. That's less than what he'd get in one race. I no longer insist that Noah do the "good game" with them after the race.
Two years ago, Noah brought home a progress report that showed he had a B in a class. He was grounded from riding until he had a note from his teacher that it was brought back up to an A. Not once did we talk to the teacher about it. Noah had to take care of it himself.
So, when I hear that Noah is doing the same thing as these other kids, I may be in denial, but unless Noah is trying to passively quit racing, that just isn't happening out there, because the axe does fall hard when he gets out of line. Heck, it's fallen even when he didn't get out of line.
BUT, when they are mocking him in a race, and they ask, (use the tone of a sardonic teenager) "What is your strategy now, Noah?" and Noah responds, "I'm going to attack and try to drop you", that is not trash talk. That's a fact.
*ok, I'm not really surprised. I posted to Facebook as an experiment to see if it got a reaction. I learned something about our junior program that is different than this other one. They are concerned about how their team is perceived. I'm concerned about how our juniors actually are. If I was worried about perception, I wouldn't be running up and down the road hollering "Hit it" "go" "attack" "get a gap" "do it again" "and again".
our race strategy for darn near every race is simple and invariably the same. it isn't a secret. Attack. Attack. Attack. If we get caught, attack again. Repeat until we are gone and continue to make the other team(s) chase. And then attack that chase. We attack ourselves right out of races sometimes, but our kids are preparing to race at higher and higher levels, and they ride as a team to do it. They genuinely don't care who wins.Noah didn't win a race this weekend, and he's as pleased as I've ever seen him post-race. He had a weekend of mixing it up with his teammates, and there were a couple of older, higher category juniors in there, and Noah was competing with them and holding his own. Sean picked up his first win in a "Cup" race. Imari continues to build upon his lead in the 10-14 Texas Cup. Hunter was out there riding apparently without pain sensors in his legs. It was summed up post-race when I asked, "What could you have done differently or better?" Everyone went to their limit. How we rode and performed was the best we could do this weekend.
Alright. This whole thing has now been purged from me. In the big picture, this is such a non-issue, but when I saw Noah vacillating between wanting to kick ass (with fists) and quit bike racing, it was worth doing something to try to put things closer back to center. I haven't seen Noah so ready to open up the throttle in a long while. This is going to be fun.
It's raining this morning. Noah thinks this is awesome. When it is raining, many others won't train, so it's like getting twice the benefit (if I could get him to clean the bikes afterwards, this would be so much better for me too).
Don't get me wrong, because if he wants to quit, I'm not going to stop him. Really. I mean, he's got some bike gear that I can use, and he just got new shoes that fit me too.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Public school is getting better
Upon leaving gymnastics last night...
Reanie: A girl in my class is twins!
Me: All by herself?
Reanie: Nooooo! With her sister.
Reanie: A girl in my class is twins!
Me: All by herself?
Reanie: Nooooo! With her sister.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
I'm no fun to be around
I'm more productive and generally more pleasant on days I get to ride, even if it means I have less time to be productive after spending time to ride.
+
What with being sick, the hellacious wind doing damage to the house and chicken coop, there hasn't been time or even energy to ride.
=
Not many people around here appreciate my grumpiness.
+
What with being sick, the hellacious wind doing damage to the house and chicken coop, there hasn't been time or even energy to ride.
=
Not many people around here appreciate my grumpiness.
Monday, March 09, 2009
I'm here to help
Cars are pulling out of the parking lot 25 yards from the finish of the time trial, so I stood there for a bit to make sure the kids who were finishing didn't have to take evasive action a second after crossing the finish line of a time trial. After a few minutes of this, I was told "Please move away from the road. We have racers finishing."
* * * * *
While at the crit, and with the second race on the course, a racer from a later category calls me on the phone and tells me there is a problem on the back side of the course, and hangs up. I'd just seen the field come through, and no kids were hollering "rider down" or anything, so I'm thinking we have an upset local.
Anyway, I run over to the other side of the course and see nothing. I stop, sort of scratch my head, and a rider about half way down the straight waves me over. I walk to him and he says, "If we move these cones and send the racers this way, we can add 600m and two turns to the course."
What would Steve Knight do? I said, "Thanks, but the course is what it is today. Maybe next time. Thanks for coming out. I've got to get back to work on the other side. Sorry."
* * * * * * *
It took until 3pm, but my battery finally died on my phone, so I couldn't take any more calls about "is the bike race still on?" "is the 4,5 race full?" "how many people are registered?" "Is the race at the football stadium? I can't find anyone here." (this particular person went to the UNT stadium) "what's the payout in the 3,4 race?"
* * * * * * * * *
The last call I took was from someone asking what time their race started. He gave me his name and his license number, as if I would have all that memorized. "Oh, license number 123456, your race is at 330."
All I could come up with was, "Ok, did you get my number from the race flyer?"
He says, "Yes" and then he reads me my number.
I said, "Ok, and that flyer is has the list of races and the start times. Do you see it?"
He says, "Yeah. Got it. Are these right?"
And then I just hung up. Bad customer service, I know. But I didn't want the next question to be, "will you chew my food for me and wipe my ass?"
* * * * * * * * * * *
And someone came up and said they won one of the cakes. But they didn't. I really, really hope this was some guy who really thought he'd won it and was mistaken than that he just lied to steal one. I can't believe we have to now have a system for cake prime collection.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
BUT, we had a record turn out for the venue. Some crispy and tired volunteers, but nobody seemed to be saying, "I don't want to do this anymore", like I usually say after putting on a race.
Ok, venting over. Back to work.
* * * * *
While at the crit, and with the second race on the course, a racer from a later category calls me on the phone and tells me there is a problem on the back side of the course, and hangs up. I'd just seen the field come through, and no kids were hollering "rider down" or anything, so I'm thinking we have an upset local.
Anyway, I run over to the other side of the course and see nothing. I stop, sort of scratch my head, and a rider about half way down the straight waves me over. I walk to him and he says, "If we move these cones and send the racers this way, we can add 600m and two turns to the course."
What would Steve Knight do? I said, "Thanks, but the course is what it is today. Maybe next time. Thanks for coming out. I've got to get back to work on the other side. Sorry."
* * * * * * *
It took until 3pm, but my battery finally died on my phone, so I couldn't take any more calls about "is the bike race still on?" "is the 4,5 race full?" "how many people are registered?" "Is the race at the football stadium? I can't find anyone here." (this particular person went to the UNT stadium) "what's the payout in the 3,4 race?"
* * * * * * * * *
The last call I took was from someone asking what time their race started. He gave me his name and his license number, as if I would have all that memorized. "Oh, license number 123456, your race is at 330."
All I could come up with was, "Ok, did you get my number from the race flyer?"
He says, "Yes" and then he reads me my number.
I said, "Ok, and that flyer is has the list of races and the start times. Do you see it?"
He says, "Yeah. Got it. Are these right?"
And then I just hung up. Bad customer service, I know. But I didn't want the next question to be, "will you chew my food for me and wipe my ass?"
* * * * * * * * * * *
And someone came up and said they won one of the cakes. But they didn't. I really, really hope this was some guy who really thought he'd won it and was mistaken than that he just lied to steal one. I can't believe we have to now have a system for cake prime collection.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
BUT, we had a record turn out for the venue. Some crispy and tired volunteers, but nobody seemed to be saying, "I don't want to do this anymore", like I usually say after putting on a race.
Ok, venting over. Back to work.
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