Working from Home

I had this plan to work from home. It was a good plan, every week on Wednesday I work from home. Wednesday is the least busy day in my week -- I have no meetings no over scheduling , no serious crises, because everyone else works from home.

Every week I end up at work on Wednesday. ... I was really jealous of other people who can workout on their bikes over lunch. So I said -- well -- what if I pick my busiest day and spend that at home. The website gets pushed live, busy staff meeting at one lunch with what's his name Thursday and spend that at home. We all work extremely well together, there will be a lot of evidence that I am working. So I floated the idea -- And everyone said "great". So tomorrow is the next effort at working from home.

Up at 7:00, cafe, work at 8. Lunch Ride at 11:30, Tech Meeting at 1:00, work till Webness is complete. Check on parents and shop ... What I'll spend riding is the time I will gain from my lack of commute, so I'll gain the upextra workout I need every week. I should be able to ride out past the bridge and back for 12-20 miles. That could push my weekly base up to 100 miles, which is where I'd like it. The real incentive for working from home will be the extra hour a week I can spend on my bike -- in a focused ride, rather than a spattering of short city commuting.

Then -- if I manage to schedule a long sunday ride every week I can prepare for the next century I ride; the same one I did last year. Not to disrupt the flow or anything -- I am glad to see that Ruby is back, because I think I may be up for another 700km month in March. Are you with me bud?

Tearing Myself a New Asshole

My Marin™ road bike came with a Selle™ Italia® saddle, a favorite in it's day, but really an ass ripper unless you wear those gotdamned padded shorts, which I really prefer never to wear. It's quite sleek and light in the roadie correct (RC™) way. At 250g, it's dandy if your about to ride 100km in those padded shorts and orange™ jerseys.

What about those of us in street clothes with a bony™ ass sit bones. An old favorite among the bicycle enjoyment (BE™) set is the Brooks™ Professional Saddle. It has a nice ring to it -- "Professional" -- like I might ride a bike like I have a job. At 538g it is a heavy load, and not at all RC. Once I have loaded 39 lbs (7,662,657g) into my PC carrying, camera toting, rain gear, tennis shoes, xtra socks, lumber carrying messenger bag. I am sure that my legs won't notice the extra weight.

For those of you that are metric dysfunctional, 250g is about eight ounces. That's quite a bit less than my wallet. Possibly less than one of these. Here is the seat in a most un-RC orientation. Other advocates of the Brooks™ saddle have done this, put perfectly good Brooks saddles on there otherwise racing bikes.

I can always change it if I ever have to ride a lot of miles in pink™ padded shorts.

My bony™ ass thanks me.

Guitar Neck Construction -- Take 2

Yesterday went slightly better.

Here's the neck blank I put together yeseterday, with a Martin Style truss rod and showing the fingerboard outline. I'll need to route out the location for the truss rod and drop it into place. Then I suppose I can start to convince it to look a bit more like a guitar neck.

Date: 10 February 2007
Mileage for the week: 56.62
February total: 81.64
On the Ipod: The Carnival Steel Drum Band, Linus and Lucy (Peanut's Theme)

Texas Hell Week

Should I go? Reading all the blogs from last year made it sound like fun. Does anyone think They might like to go along with me?

It's Going to Rain

See. Photo http://www.NOAA.gov

Guitar Neck Fabrication

This is the first attempt at the neck fabrication for the guitar. At this point it is still going very well. This is a piece of Honduran mahogany just before being reduced to scrap cut at 15 degrees with a dozuki and then planed to match. I'll be doing this part again next week though, as I learned an important lesson in paying attention, later in the day.

Date: 4 February 2007
Mileage for the week: 70.45
February total: 25.02
On the Ipod: Jackson Browne, Late for the Sky

We're Home

We're all back home, including me -- I'll be staying here (with my folks) tonight as well. We all sat around and watched the Bears lose, ate like pigs.

The Remains of the Day

Read the book referenced in the title of this post. It's charming. My mother recommended it.

I saw my mother this morning. They're treating her now for diabetes, developed as a result of steroid use. Atheletes with race induced asthma should pay very close attention. Albuterol is a steroid, so is prednisone,
cortisone and a variety of treatments for emphysema. You'll recognize these. If you're young and you have trouble breathing because you're racing a bike -- tell your MD he's an ass -- and that it's normal to be out of breath after humping your tushy up whatever race. You don't need his steroids to win. Steroid use. WTF? My mother is just a mother.

My mother is good and somewhat happy. I hope they let her come home soon. I may have to insist on it.

I have driven a car recently, I admit it. My first since Christmas. The trials of the last few days have left me needing to move around a bit better. It's hard to haul the elders around on your bike. My father believes he can drive and -- "I'll stop by and take you dad" -- is the absolutely correct response.

I made chili today for tomorrow's game. It is the food of the gods. I went to my folks to make it -- and I worked on the guitar. I was trying to make enough progress to show to my son tomorrow, but no. Not today. I took pictures of the guitar, and tried to mobile blog them from my phone. They haven't shown up. Maybe tomorrow.

It's late. I am old and tired now. I have only the remains of the day to look at. I sure appreciate the folks that have taken the time to let me know they are thinking of me. I am glad to know that you care. I am touched.

Let's hope tomorrow is better. Go Bears.

Gosh.

I rode around the corner a few blocks from my parent's house and there was bla fire engine in sight down the street. I knew instantly that something was wrong my father. He's been at home alone a bit this week, and it's been a busy week for all of us, and I knew. My father. He's been feeling really good, and talking about playing golf. I pulled up and there were firefighters there in triage. The Chief had fallen down.

It's hard for me to imagine the world I live in today.

When I was young, it was a different place. Jets hurled through the sky a supersonic speeds and the sonic booms rallied the glassware to leap to the floor. My life was dominated by a Naval hero and a military haircut. During the 60's it was the Packers and the Dodgers, and sandlot broken window Sandy Koufax baseball in the driveway with the bat pointed at the neighbor's house. It was stingrays in the mud hole that we called a park and riding out to the swamps in the afternoon. There were fallout shelters and we hid under our desks at the sound of a bell to fend off nuclear war. I actually broke the frame on my ugly bike. My sister was a h i p p y and my brother was always in trouble. I remember once I put out the window of a house well past Home Run distance in a glorious and fright filled batting moment. I had to work for hours to replace that window. I had no idea the bay was polluted, and about ten other things. My father was there, building, making, working, fixing, being. Guiding me.

My neighbor Mrs. Miller used to keep the balls in a box in the backyard and not give them to us -- we used to sneak in and steal them back when she went grocery shopping. Me and Vic the Sushi Man. Tonight, it was as if everyone knew something was wrong with John. The Chief. My father. The neighbor stopped by and the Chief didn't answer the door. Folks called from everywhere and the phone was busy. I heard that and raced across town on my bike. My sister in-law showed up right after I got there. Mrs Miller came over.

The Chief had fallen, he hit his head, and got a bit banged up. My father was a strong man. He was a sailor. He led us in a proud way toward a better life, a life. A good life. Through the valley of the shadow of evil. It was harsh at times, but there were many character building experiences. It wasn't necessarily always right -- but I am sure he thought it was.

The Chief grew up in a different era altogether. He was born in 1923. There were planes, cars, blimps. Buzz bombs, radio, radar, Tommy Dorsey, Amelia Earhardt, Charles Lindbergh and war came later. When my mother was 20, in 1941, she started smoking. She smoked for forty-five years. She will die of emphysema. She doesn't want the doctors to investigate much, she doesn't want to be resuscitated. She's in a different hospital, across town. She's scared now. Me too. We are all going to die in seperate places.

The world I live in today has cell phones, and mobile blogging, and this. And spontaneous world wide communications. As Jean Baudrillard said in 1948 -- it is -- An Ecstasy of Communication. It's a world my father can't fathom, and I can barely keep up with. It's extended the life of America by ten or fifteen years, but it hasn't lessened the pain of watching your parents fade. They were so strong.

I guess I need to be strong now.

Phone Hell 2

Phone Hell

Date: 31 January 2007
Mileage for the last bit of the month: 45.25
January total: 371.46
Max 24.2
On the Ipod: Cowboy Junkies, 200 More Miles

Alaska Vacation -- Round Island

You can get a permit that allows you to take, harass, or kill marine mammals, if you have a good enough reason. If you have a good enough reason -- you can take a walrus. And if you're big enough. But where?

I don't want to take any walrus, I just want to take their picture. This is not like taking a picture of a petroglyph (or the honeycombs behind the petroglyphs) in Carrizo Plain National Moneymint, where you get threatened with ticketing and or arrest if you suggest taking pictures of petroglyph rock (If I even see you here with a camera ..."), this is a walrus we're talking about. This is not some light love making.

This is serious. Under the Marine Mammal Protection Act, it is illegal to take, harrass or kill a marine mammal, specifically whales, dolphins, seals, polar bears and walrus. If you take a camera and approach a walrus close enough to get a good picture without a $5000 lens, you probably need a permit. If he feels harassed, you may need to be able to run. I don't think the Marine Mammal Protection Act actually says any thing about that. Quote: "You must be able to run like a ... 'If I even see you here with a camera,' says the walrus"

Go figure, aren't I a marine mammal, in need of protection? Doesn't the walrus need a permit to hassle me. No -- I have to take my chances.

Flight to Dillinger -- $1000
Fly to somewhere -- I am not sure where -- a point on Homer spit or a beach -- $400
Boat to Round Island $400
Hotels meals etc. -- $600
One week Camping, permits, fees, food, film, and ... did I mention food? ... $500

12 day trip to Round Island to photograph walrus -- $2900

Holy shit, Batman

Any one care to join me?

About your Car ...

It went like this. I got caught at the light, and there was a young guy trackstanding for an eternity, then sped away. I, of course can barely stand, so trackstanding seems impossible. I did catch him and comment on his talents and then blow by him into traffic. I was wailing throught the ring street at the end of Townsend onto John Henry at speed, and this woman in front of me saw a parking spot and stopped. I hit the brakes and watched ... sliding ... an eternity passed. I was picking out how I was going to (safely) land on the back of her car, when she looked up and hit the gas. I think I was less than an inch from her bumber when the car lunged forward. Raise one for the driver. She actually gave up her parking spot to save me.

But don't raise one for this driver.

Ok so this Cool for the Bikers

Photo © Jill Homer 2007.

Jill the uber winter cyclist in Juneau, Alaska, who is currently preparing for the Susitna 100 (A 100 mile winter bike race in Alaska, and did I mention Winter?) and blogging about it, was nominated for a Bloggy award in the Best Sports Blog category. I think this is pretty impressive. Even to get nominated for that. A young woman who rides her bike in the snow and writes about it. No super bowl, no fantasy football, just a girl woman on a bike with a camera and a pen.

If you like winter, your bike, or women, or great achievements, then please go and vote for her. If that doesn't work for you -- then go read her blog and see if you like that.

Today, she rode a Big Century. Amen to that.

Date: 27 January 2007
Mileage for the week: 66.03
January total: 326.21
On the Ipod: David Grisman and Tony Rice: Tone Poems

Soon-dubu Chigae

Ok, some soups are unique colorful and photogenic. When I was in Korea I learned some things about food. First, when you buy stuff like cereal, look on the back of the box to see if there's a picture of a woman dumping it into a washing machine or cleaning a drain with it or any other obvious signs that its not food.

If it looks good, smells good, or has a lot of garlic, live octopi, chili, or kimchi, it's probably good to eat. Three or four or five foods became my staple diet there, with surprises occasionally. I love kimchi. There was a vendor right near my place there that made kimchee mandu in a tall stack of steamer baskets, which became a regular afternoon snack between classes. Another street vender would sell a garbage bag filled with puffed corn for about a buck. This was frequently breakfast. In the city I was in, bibimbop was the regional specialty. I preferred bibimbap hot (Dulsot) but one of my roommates there would rather it be cold.

My favorite breakfast of all time is the Adobo chile at the Horseman's Haven in Santa Fe, NM -- but I'll need to talk about Korea now, and that later. Second, of course was soon-dubu chigae, which is a Korean Soup described with other common Korean soups here:

Korean stews (chigae) generally have two things in common, they're hot and spicy. The most common stews, which are all served with rice, are kimchi chigae, dwen-jang chigae, soon-dubu chigae and boo-dae chigae. All of these stews contain enough hot pepper to burn the hairs in your nostrils. On a frigid winter day, nothing will warm you up more than a hot bowl of boo-dae chigae (my preference). Kimchi chigae is loaded with kimchi, small pieces of pork and various vegetables. Dwen-jang chigae is a soy bean paste based soup filled with vegetables and clams. If you like tofu, you'll love soon-dubu chigae. Vegetables, clams and an egg are added to this tofu bonanza. Boo-dae chigae originated from the Korean War. After the American soldiers finished eating, many times they had a little food remaining that they threw away. The Koreans were very poor at that time and they would go around collecting that thrown away food and put it in a big pot and presto, the birth of boo-dae chigae. It includes hot dogs slices, ham, glutinous rice, and other vegetables. Ramen noodles are usually thrown in as well.

Soon-dubu chigae is a hot spicy meal. It's a power packed food and tasty. In my notebooks from Korea a recipe exists, along with how to make pickled garlic, which everyone should experience one in their life. I need to find a good recipe for Soon-dubu Chigae. Although it is a vegetable soup, it does contain Anchovy Sauce, meaning it's not really vegetarian.

The with clams part of the recipes, may rely on regional differences in Korea. Places nearer the sea include more seafood in there diet ... as students and teachers in Korea, we really didn't have all that much money, so certain foods were luxurious.

Photo from The Tofu House in San Francisco.

Why do People take Pictures of their Feet?

Because of the cool and stealthy new cycling shoes that arrived in the mail today from Lake Cycling.