Last night we celebrated my mothers 64th birthday at a French joint. Ingeneral I don't like classic French Cuisne nor the demeanor of said staid establishments. My sister commented that it is lukcy I did not grow up in France or else I may have starved to death. I am sure that would have been the least of my worries had I passed my formative years at the direction of my father.

This restaurant, called Le Perigord, hadthe snottiest maitre d' which almost made me blow a gasket. There are ways to be treated that make guests feel welcome and this old fat guy went the other direction from that place. Anyway, I will leave it at that and I will say that they recovered with better service at the end.

I gave my mother some chocaltes that I pulled oof the shelf at a store andthe box was half eaten....how embarassing on the one hand and how gross on the other hand.

Multimedia message

Happy birthday mom!

Today's AM ride with reminders of yesterday...

I went to bed early last night after a long and annoying, and trying day. I was not really a happy camper yesterday between the ennui of work and some stark realizations about human relationships. Some days are better cut short with an Excedrin PM or two.

I awoke foggy and groggy (they are the same thing...) from the PM's and rallied out the door by 6.20. Stopped and got a large milky sweet coffee to help further the cause of wake up. I went to the park and sat on the benches across the street from the boat house. Nostalgia played on many levels from the reminders of waking early on Grand street, getting a great cup of coffee in bed from LK and then hustling off to the park. Then there was also nostalgia of sitting on the bench, which had also had been a perch of mine with LK. Those were two really nice memories and I am glad I carry them around still.

Tuesday is typically sprint day: The game is to try and hold a full 100% effort for a minute (or as close to a minute) and then wait and ride way slow for 4-5 minutes and do it all over again. Repeat 4-6 times and you can call it day.

Not that I am training for anything, nor am I riding fast, but that is the program usually on Tuesday which was ingrained in me years ago. I tacked a extra lap on rode with with Larry the Lawyer who I used to ride with 5-6 years ago. He has not changed other than getting a brand new Seven to replace the Litespeed Ultimate, and having put on 35 pounds, due to what he calls a "serious addiction to golf."

We were never friends really, but he would be this random guy I would end up doing laps with. For an older guy he rolled pretty good (mashing and thrashing at 85 rpm in the big ring always) back in the day, and while the weight certainly was highly visible in his jersey, he still rolled pretty good.

These are the non descript mornings that epitomize feeling good.

The Gunshot Rally

The call to ride came after a longer night than I had anticipated/expected/wanted: I was tired and dazed as LD's truck pulled into the back lot of Blue.

Three figures emerged into the heat from the cool respite of Japanese designed AC that was pumping full tilt as if we were sides of beef. Within moments I was dripping with perspiration and I had barely moved. This was not the day of a fast ride as the temperature and humidity would not allow for it. Although the brain was foggy and I was tired to the point of not thinking in a particularly sharp fashion, I knew immediately that I would need to shift into survival mode. There was no A game for me today.

The crew consisted of LD, and "the Wildcard". Deeply entrenched in the para-secret clandestine world of the underground super high mega pixel photo shoots, I can not compromise his identity and thusly from now he will be know as "the Wildcard."

Why Wildcard? Wildcard because of return to the big tire and Wildcard for his disappearance from the big tire. How could a guy, who I saw on the coldest night of the year 2 years ago riding around on a Brooklyn (seriously it was insanely cold and he was commuting hom at roughly 8 pm which puts him in the hardcore category) just stop riding the big tire?

The three of us climbed the particularly snot wet single track to the entrance of Mix Monster: We actually rode it the way you are supposed to ride it.

In the background the air rang with gunshots from the nearby shooting range, as the people practiced for the forthcoming apocalypse. The sounds made the Wildcard nostalgic for kickback and the power of divine in the palm: the hand of fury. There is something that so intrigues me about the power of a gun and so I could relate to Wildcards enthusiasm and knowledge of the guns going off.

Many monsoon seasons have passed since Wildcards last rides in the dirt but it was apparent there was not much lost in that vortex of time that had passed since his last rides.The wildcard, being the wildcard, rode like a seasoned rider doing drops and riding fast after his intial breaking in period: at first he was reluctant to ride up something that was just a short uphill that I even did with zero reservation. By mid ride there was little he would not ride up or down.

LD rode his new beast as if it was a light weight XC bike schooling kiddies on the uphills.

The day of the gunshot rally ended when we had decided that we had reached our apex of fun and that the Battan Death March was not consistent with our planned itinerary considering we had just ran out of liquids and had nary a thing to eat during the ride.

Sometimes less is more.

People who live in glass houses and Friend Jenny

Yesterday I took a trip to see the Phillip Johnson Glass House with Stretch. It was her interest to go and see the glass house but she was not able to procure tickets...I could and I did. I never wanted to tell her how I got the tickets but yesterday as we sat in a Starbucks waiting for the tour to begin I admitted to her the tact. I wish I could have told her that I got them through connections but it was a clever hustle on my part. It really was not that suave/cool a move, but I got them and I got the end of the day tour which is the best one.

The tour around the house was inspirational and reminded me of where my heart was and truly is.

I would recommend it to all who have inclination towards the arts or if they can appreciate a melding of man made and that of nature in a seamless brush stroke, while also knowing that the individual pieces by themselves do not fit into nature: the aesthetics are just as important as the placement.

Friend Jenny: Jenny B from way back fame, reached out to me in the most timely of fashions (around the time of trip to the Glass House and she is a Landscape Architect...fitting ) to only put in the subject "Friend Jenny."

I hold Jenny with the highest of esteem as she certainly was one of the great influences of my younger years: a true adventurer with nary the word impossible in her vocabulary before it was en vogue. A woman, a friend, who runs with a V12 of zest for life as her engine and taught me a thing or two about living outside the comfort zones. I have many fond memories of walking on trestles, sandy beaches, cantaloupes, pear capabilities and an incredible memory of realizing all of this while standing at a precipice overlooking a watering hole.

Anyway, the point of this, of course I know it was Jenny when she wrote me. What am I retarded or something that I would not know who she was? I really do wonder about her sometimes....

Borat and Biz Markie

Taking a break

A few folks have asked what is going on with me the last few weeks. Admittedly I have been a little more low key, low profile...Frankly, more like a hermit.

Between a busy schedule at work and some personal stuff going on I have taken a small sabbatical from my social life. I need a little time to regroup, get some perspective and work on making the final part of the year a good one and have everything going in the right direction for 2008. And that means a little intro-spection.

No great success is ever done without a plan and I need to get mine together.

Nothing personal towards friends and family. Just need to get my shit together.

I can out ride most people offroad on my mail ordered recumbant.....

"I can out ride most people offroad on my mail ordered recumbant with
the wind screen removed of course." -This is J's special way of saying FUCK YOU for now making it memorial day weekend.

The gauntlet has been thrown down....After much shit being given I was reminded of my place in the hierchy.

Dog Days...

Not sure why the title is dog days when I am really not in the mode to post anything halfway open...So i will keep it safe and write a little about the weekend rides.

Saturday I set out in the heat of the day and decided that instead of a longer ride I would just do a harder ride. Rode up 9W in a big gear and got to ranger station where I proceeded to ride myself into all the pain through self hatred that one can muster short of killing oneself...OK, so a little dramatic. Point is I rode the hill 4 times in a row at full tilt. I felt semi possessed for the first one but the rest I had to really push myself. Then I limped home passing folks like I was fiend. Had a couple of passengers on the bus who were content just to sit in on my back wheel for a little bit till I decided I really had not ridden hard enough (I actually really had) so I ejected them in short order even under their best efforts.

Sunday I headed to the park...I had been remiss in fixing my right cleat and a block away from the park I could not unclip, due to said lack of maintenance, and ended up tipping over. Grumble grumble. Rode back home jumped on the 6.6 and decided a little mountain bike skills would be better anyway considering my legs were dead.

That plan went dead because as soon as I hit the park I decided I wanted to have a little fun. There i was dressed in baggy shorts and a Joe Strummer t-shirt leading a group of 5 skinny tire guys and gals around the park. I was totally motivated to leave them all behind on my FS with one chain ring (36 teeth mind you) and I proceeded to break them by sprinting each and every bump around the park till I was the last one standing. They should have brought their fancy road bikes back to the store if they could not pass a guy like me while I am riding a big XC bike with one chain ring and not enough air in the tires or the shocks...and my rotor rubs...

BTW the picture is of my beloved Kona...I think I am going to sell her to make way for a SS bike.

Bike Porn: Some bikes that are in my life or were in my life...

You can not really do this with girlfirends....another reason why I like bikes more than girls.

Bontrager Race Lite: Regreattbly this was on ethat I let slip away: Santa Cruz, pre-Trek Race lite. This was trueltthe apex of singletrack bikes. Even today one of the best. Only downfall was the 1 inch head tube.

Trick: Paul levers mated to the Avid Arch Supreme brakes mounted to a pace carbon fork. Hell ya she was sexy!!

Eddy Merckx MX Leader: She was the bike I wanted in college when I could not afford her. It was the classic bike for the period. It is such a great bike to ride on the flats and was designed fo rthe bigger sprinter in mind. I can appreciate it on the flats but I also know that it is more bike than I can handle.

Kona Team Issue SC Cross Bike: This was a bike that I bought from a pro down in Maryland: It was brand new and I stripped the parts off and had Eric the Davinci of mechanics build it into a 1 speed bike. Notice the Campy Record carbon levers. I loved stomping on that thing. I would ride it in central park and jump the curb on the hill and 110 street, sprint by some roadies and bunny hop back onto the road. Also of note the carbon chain guard and the Alpha Q fork.

Orange Sub 5 "Fancy European number": that is what a college buddy of mine called it when I bumped into him. This was a great handling bike that I sold prior to my move to California. It was fun but between ripping the derailleur off and knowing that I would have no need for a FS in Califonia I sold it...oddly enough to a guy 1 town over (Mill Valley) when I moved to Sausalito.

Merlin XLC: One great bike that I wish had been smaller: So stable, so light and so compliant. One I may have to go back and get again in the right size. Tom Kellog designs really nicely handling bikes.

Sick: Closest thing to a garage at the time...For the record there were a couple of bikes missing from the picture..

Kona Titanium King Kahuna: Great bike...

Rain and doing things for the right reason but maybe for the wrong reason.

It is raining again...I am so tired of the rain.

Helping friends and being a better person has been a goal of mine for some time. The only thing I may really leave behind is how people will rememeber or how they know of me now. And not that I am doing good things for jus the recognition, but really for the people who are in my life who I do call friends.

One thing I learned from the X, is to love the person wholly and not to love them for how they make you feel or what they can do for you. Sometimes this means sacrifice. Sometimes it means letting things run a little longer so that things can fall into place as they should. Letting things run their course can be hard for an impatient person like me. It has been hard.

Doing the right thing for the other person, because they need help, can mean shelving your own needs. It can alos mean that while you want to address certain things or do certain things , but because the other perosn needs you, you may have to bite your tongue or not do what you want to do. I think this is relationship 101 that many fail, including myself.

I find myself in this weird position today. I want to help for the right reason, because I do care about the person, but it has left me feeling a little taken. Not sure if it is the right thing for me anymore. Not sure if that is because of where my heart lies, because of the circumstances and how little confidence I have these days. But am I helping for the wrong reason because I want to be "that guy?" What is "that guy"? It is the persona I wish I truely was and who I strive for, but regreattbly I am not.

I yearn for more. But my calls ring hollow and leave me empty.

In the end I help, because I want to geniuenly help another person out but I am sure I am also helping out for the wrong reasons.

NYC Crushed by heat and Subways....

Yesterday as I walked to the subway I wondered to myself why I saw so many people on the street...I have never seen Lexington Avenue so congested, even on 9/11. It was so weird.

When I arrived at the subway I was informed that NO trains were running...So, I walked to the next station...no luck. Turns out the the city was wrecked due to the fact that the trains were not running.

Conspiracy theory anyone??

Anyway, ended up working mobile and helping Stretch out with some photocopying, moving boxes and just general stuff to help her get on her way out of NYC.

After helping her out I then rode my bike over to help my sister install an air conditioner in her 3,000 degree apartment.

Basically I killed my day with no ride in order to help the ladies out in my life.

No ride makes Georgie cranky...no ride for 3 days in a row makes him really cranky.

Hard days

I just gott of the phone with a friend, and while I never liked the addage of "misery loves comfort," I am glad to know that I am not the only one who has problems. Somehow knowing that others out there may be facing challenges (which I do of course know that logically....I am not the only person who faces challenges) only gives me a little more strength to face the next step.

Hot Road Rides, homestyle BK Italian food and Lobster dinners...

Saturday Heat:


Stretch and I did a road ride on Saturday together. We had gotten a late start as we spent a leisurely morning walking the Max man, sipping coffee and gathering boxes for her impending move. I love our lazy mornings where we are up early and the west village is ever so slightly cool and we are on foot sipping cafe from the french joint on the corner of 20th....

Because of the late departure we took the brunt of the particularly hot sun on the head and at one point we both realized we were both dizzy. We both felt the heat.

I took her on two secret roads: the big blue office park and the backside of Columbia. Two roads that are little known and that are off the beaten track. And only those in the know should know...

Sunday night: Debacle.
No not the trail, but the timing at first. I was supposed to be at Stretch's place by 6.30 -6.45PM. It normally takes me 15 minutes to get downtown from up town by cab....Long story short, my lateness caused a litany of events that caused stretch to lose it a little...To the point where she was giving me the evil eye. I can laugh about it now, and I can certainly understand about being late to a friends place so we could go out for dinner, but I certainly could tell that it really bugged stretch and I am sure she was rethinking "us" at that moment. I think she can laugh about it now...

Once we got to BK we met her friends Dawn and Dave: great people. We had dinner at a joint I wont soon forget. Conversation amongst the four of us was great in range and quality.

After dinner we went back to their place were hung out on the deck and had a great time sipping prosecco and eating Betty Crocker cupcakes.

Sunday:
I was on the road earlier than the prior day and wanted to try and tear my legs off on a super quick round trip up to Piermont. While the desire was there, my legs were certainly not present. The toll of several days in a row riding, including a couple of heated sprint days.

Rode the best I could up to Piermont via river road (big ringed it minus the final climb) and at the bottom of the hill I turned back around and muscled my way to the top of the hill again. I may not have had much in the tank in terms of energy but I still wanted to push it.

I had planned on the way back into the city to hit the ranger station and refuel up on water (only took 1 bottle in true Lawrence of Arabia style in the hopes of only having to drink two bottles for the whole trip...not sure why I had that in my mind to do...but I did and it came back to bite me in the ass) , but when I got there after turning on the afterburners from Piermont (no water stop there) I found out that the water fountain did not work.

Taking inventory of the liquids I had in hand: maybe 3 swigs of ice tea was at the bottom of my bottle and whatever liquid I had in my helmets sweat band in case I became desperate.

At that moment: It reminded me of ill fated hiking/camping/climbing trips in college. We used to plan to go for an afternoon hike and often by the time we would get to the trail head it would be dusk so we would do an impromptu plan change for an overnight. We would then check what we had in hand the in back of the trunk, which usually meant no t much, that would allow us to do a non planned bivy whack: tarp, beef jerky, a few cans of tuna, water, two winter jackets and one sleeping bag for 3, usually some sort of candy, potentially if we were lucky a cold old pizza and the two blankets in the back of the car. Maybe a flashlight. These overnights were hard. But sort of fun...I wont go into details today.

As I made my way back to the city I decided I would try and do it on what liquids I had and I would just shift into survival mode. As I made my way out of the ranger station it became apparent if I tried to ride back to the city with just two gulps of liquid (drank one gulp of the 3 total gulps I had, amidst the assessment period) that I could put myself in some serious trouble...So about halfway back to the city I ducked over the hill to Tenafly and grabbed 1 32 ounces of liquids and 1 16 ounces of liquids. That was a prudent idea.

Lobster Dinner:
Stretch came over and met the rents for dinner. Sister was there to make sure things went as smoothly as possible after I tested her that I needed to make sure all went as smoothly/nicely as possible. I was not so worried about anything particularly: I just wanted Stretch to feel comfortable. Although I can count on one hand the number of ponies I have brought home on 1 hand, I no longer think it is a big deal....everybody has parents.

Stretch got rave reviews and it was nice to say the least.

Faux story and a true story...

Stretch emailed me this story below:

"is this reminiscent of you???" Stretch asked in the email.....

A Mother passing by her son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up.

Then she saw an envelope, propped up prominently
on the pillow that was addressed to "Mom" With the worst premonition she opened the
envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.

Dear Mom,
It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to
elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Dad and you. I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercings, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it's not only the passion...Mom, she's pregnant. Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having
many more children.

Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt
anyone.We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy. In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it. Don't worry Mom. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself.

Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.

Love,
Your Son Jon

P.S. Mom, none of the above is true. I'm over at
Tommy's house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than the report card that's in my center desk drawer.

I love you.
Call me when it's safe to come home.


My response to getting this story:
Yes indeed it is very much a familar theme for me.....When I was 12:I called my mom once while
pretending to have just been mugged (all my friends were listening in on the other line laughing their asses off...) and I made up some story and pretended to cry quite convincingly. She totally lost it because she was so worried... Judging by her response, I quickly realized very quickly that this was maybe not the best joke to pull on dear old mom....Then when I tried to tell her it
was a joke she got even angrier with me....

who would have thunk it?

Phil In the Circle

This guy is so good....If you are going to watch one of his piece watch the Bruce Lee one below



If you have not seen any of his work your really need to do so.
This Bruce Lee video is way good and really is worth the time.

CP Laps and Korean Food

Yesterday, I jumped from work with the quickness in order to get some therapy done on the road with a few laps before going out later in the night. Planned on meeting LD as well as some point.

Since I have started riding my bike in the park moons ago cycling has undergone a major change. What was a fringe sport filled with eccentric, mostly cool, artsy, intellectual types has now morphed into the domain of full tilt type A jocks who have no understanding of the sport than USA rules and Armstorng was the best ever: Thusly the speed has increased. When I was at my best (127 pounds, and able to ride at over 180 bpm for 3 hours during a race) I could count the number of folks who were really fast in the park and who would beat me or give me a run for the money...Today, with the influx of triathletes and others who wish to mimic the Lance man (with or with out the doping...) has brought the speed up in the park pretty dramtically. A few nights ago I got passed by a tri geek on 110th street hill as if I was going backwards...I can not remember seeing one guy ever going up the hill that fast (group is another thing: I saw the Tour Dupont Stage when all the Euro's (LeMond and a young Ekimov) came to the states to race and they ripped CP apart doing 10 minutes laps) and there a more than a handful of those types of riders. Many of them just have the engine and no skills.

Did a few laps while waiting for LD to get in gear and then met up with him. We put it on cruise control and rode smooth.

At one point LD was about 5 feet in front of me, and about a foot and half to my left. He was chitty chatting on the phone and I was just pedaling slow. All of the sudden four guys in full tilt go mode cut between the two of us just as we were reaching a walkway where 2 older people were crossing. As soon as I saw them go by in mach 5 mode I thought top myself that this was going to be trouble because the guy was leading must have had no clue that there people crossing.

As soon as he saw the people he grabbed the brakes like a baby grabs the teet: HARD. Which caused some skidding from the people who were all lined out in a pace line, which then started some tires sliding which then caused one guy to touch wheels and do a little tarmac lounging.

A few things:
1. Don't ride in CP at full tilt during after work hours...the park is congested and it is plain stupid. 2. Don't try and split to riders when you have a crew of dumbasses on your wheel and especially when you are coming up on a cross walk in which the pedestrians have the right of way.
3.Finally, road tires don't have the traction for a full tilt brake grab unless you got moto skills. Obviously, for at least the guy on the ground, he had no moto skills.

LD and I skirted the danger but LD nicely told the lead guy as we rode by him (he almost made us f'ing stack it....I am still a little annoyed) that he could "buy some skills at K-Mart." New Newtonian principal: "stupid actions are going to cause stupid remarks"...this is my take on the classic first Newtonian rule: A body at rest remains at rest, and a body in motion remains in constant motion unless an external force is applied.

About 10 minutes later the lead jack ass rode by, like I predicted and told us to go "fuck our selves" which caused a little chase a few words traded. Then it dawned on me as he tried to ride away from us in an obvious state of fear because he partnered up with another rider: what a fucking bitch not to recognize his own fault in the incident. Just admit fault, say sorry and everyone is happy.

I chased him (he must have freaked to realize that he was way slow to be caught by the likes of us) and his friend down and got right next to them and then taunted him with "If you are going to tell us to fuck off, then why are riding away? Why don't you stop?"

I just did this to see if he had nut sack: NADA. If he meant it he would have stopped but instead he kept pedaling just a little faster.

His response was so schoolyard: "we have friends up the road and behind us."

Evidently the idea of tangling with two boys, one dressed in a skate board skid lid and baggy shorts who is built closer to football player than a cyclist, did not seem like a good idea to either of them. ...Even if they had "friend up the rode and behind" them....

After a few minutes of some heated discussion with the guy who started this chain of stupidity, I made it clear that we were not here to throw down but rather to point out the fact that they almost took us out because of their stupidity. The guy who had been pulling the group of four around did not even realize he had split LD and I in very close quarters: in fact it took him two separate explanations to realize the stupidity of his way. Once this became apparent that we were and the pedestrian were in the right, we all rode off in our separate ways with an understanding and with mutual respect. He still is a dumb ass.

Korean Food: Dak Sooni

After the laps in the park, Strecth picked me up around 9pm and we made our way downtown for a dinner of Korean food. I never have had Korean food outside of few bites here and there.

It totally rocked: sometimes I never know if I am hungry anymore but as soon as I sat down I realized that I was famished and that the food being served looked top notch.

Stretch was dying to order the dinner, and since I know nothing about Korean food, I agreed. I had to pull some cash out of an ATM machine and by the time I had gotten back she smiled and basically told me she went a little overboard.

She was right, but we did a pretty good job of cleaning the plates and left nothing for a doggie bag.

It was a good time.

In fact I think I am still filled from dinner....

Sister is going bigtime ....

Sister works at a watch mag and recently the mag did a watch give away contest....She sent me the linkof the story that was posted on some watch website in which I procured this great picture of her.

The watch world is so geeky sometimes...so underground. I think Porno might be more mainstream.

The cat in black is my sister local boss...she also has a boss in another part of the world...that would bethe foreign boss.

I just like the fact she is rocking the big ass 1970's glasses: they are bigger than her head.

Overheard at a recent World Cup race....

"I like rippin' on the road while high. The smooth road and skinny tire are not enough, so I get real high and make sure I am tweaking then only to try and give myself a heart attack either climbing hills or zipping through traffic.... "

As if crap roads and shitty drivers are not enough to contend with that one needs to get hallucinating and what not and then go navigate around the road.