Turpentine Vindication: The Ballad of Arthur Hamilton

Jaws VII

2008-06-29T10:49:00.001-06:00

Mmm, local "delicacies"...

Stupid heredity

2008-06-24T08:56:00.002-06:00

So those of you who know me may have noticed that I rarely leave home without a tissue - we all have our little idiosyncrasies I suppose. Anyway a visit to my Grandmother in Germany may have shed some light on how I came about this peculiar habit... check out this cabinet in her bathroom!

Amusing picture

2008-06-23T08:00:00.004-06:00

Since I'm behind in my blog postings I thought I would take the easy way out and post another video. This was recorded at the same location as the previous video, and I found it to be tolerably amusing. Tolerably. What I like most about this is actually the fact that it's fun and easy to capture video with my cellphone, and quickly post it online.

I made the room smell like oranges

2008-06-23T07:54:00.003-06:00

Came across this in a restroom in Prague... genius.

Third World Conditions?

2008-06-11T04:36:00.000-06:00

And only one of those items is quickdrying. Shock and horror. Also fresh clean clothing.

The American Dream?

2008-06-08T14:59:00.002-06:00

So Ang & I went out in Frankfurt this evening for a night of town biking (cause all the cool kids have guest bikes! mmm, deathtrap2...), beer & football. Oh and ice cream. can't forget the ice cream.

And so it begins

2008-06-07T12:07:00.002-06:00

Actually I suppose it began several hours ago when I woke up at 3am to catch a bus to the airport. Stupid 3am. The bus was fairly decent though. I might make that a regular thing, even my for business travel. Anyway fast forward a few hours and I find myself sipping coffee in the Detroit Airport, killing time during my five hour layover before I can catch my flight to Frankfurt. Frankfurt Germany that is, because oh yeah, I'm going to Europe.

2008-01-07T18:02:00.001-07:00

stupidbreadalwaysjellysidedown

We'll always have SuperCuts...

2007-11-20T14:20:00.001-07:00

Calamity. I mean really terrible, horrendous news. I just found out that the girl who cuts my hair no longer works in Boulder. The girl who pulls my hair. The cute, punky girl who flirts with me. The girl who pulls my hair. The girl who runs her fingers through my hair telling me how much she likes it, and then pulls my hair. I mean if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. And now she’s gone, out of my life forever. Rumor has it she’s plying her trade in one of the neighboring “L” towns, but it might as well be Siberia.

Life Beyond the Freewheel?

2007-11-20T14:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening was beautiful – crisp & clear, perfect really. You know, a typical Boulder evening. I was returning from a Boulder Digital Arts Event, and it was so nice out that I decided to take the long way home. So there I am, biking along and having the time of my life when I’m struck with a terrible thought. I like to coast. I mean I really like to coast. Standing on my pedals, gliding along, picking my lines and shifting my weight to squeeze every last inch out of the few pedal strokes that I take… pure unadulterated bliss. What’s so terrible about coasting you say? Well it means I’m a fraud. I’m talking about fixies here – one gear, no freewheel – the wheel turns your legs turn. Instant bike cred deserving of respect and admiration. Any time I see a fixie its instant lust, such a beautiful yet simple machine. Biking at its purest perhaps. But with no freewheel, there’s no coasting! I have always operated under the assumption that one day I would pickup a fixed gear bike as a commuter - I've even placed a bid or two through Craigslist. Is it all in vain, do I have to face the facts and admit that fixed gears aren't for me? Is there life beyond the freewheel?

Shook me all night long

2007-09-13T05:00:00.000-06:00

three cups of coffee.

half a bag of oreos.

five pieces of cold chicken.

one naked antioxidant juice smoothie.

invaluable proofing assistance provided by my wonderful friend emily.

a few more oreos (for good luck).

proposal complete : 5am

lesson learned : all nighters aren't as much fun when they involve work.

mmm, burning

2007-09-09T08:51:00.001-06:00

Last night several friends and I attended a festival at a local Greek Orthodox church. A Greek festival.

We were compelled to attend the festival after hearing tales of flaming cheese. I mean seriously - cheese AND fire? What's not to love? Granted I have partaken in flaming cheese before and never really been satisfied... but I assumed this time would be different. Because did I mention the parts about fire and cheese? Sadly my hopes and dreams were once again dashed against the sharp cliffs of reality. The cheese just wasn't that good. Wasn't that good! How can you screw up such a wonderful pairing?!?! Maybe by using bad cheese and then covering it with the juice of a lemon? I do feel that the concept is sound, I'd just like to see it broadened in scope. Let's try this with Cheddar. Let's try this with Gouda. While we're at it maybe we could even find something besides lemon juice to put the fire out (more cheese perhaps).

Naturally when I say "let's try" what I really mean is "please make for Mike to try". Until then I'll stick to the Greekstyle. Because really - cheese AND fire.

Poetic Justice

2007-09-07T15:33:00.001-06:00

Today I accidentally promised my friend Angela that I would update my blog. Stupid unfair promises, what if I can't think of anything witty to say. Duh, plagiarism. As if you didn't see that coming. Given the nature of my forced posting, it seemed only natural that I look to Angela's blog for source material - poetic justice or some such concept.

Actually I would have cross-posted this anyway - bikes, foreign intrigue, pretty girls, i mean what's not to love? Read on. That means follow the link below.

http://www.ski-epic.com/amsterdam_bicycles/

Awaken Film Project

2007-07-24T01:26:00.000-06:00

For the past few weeks I’ve had the pleasure of working on an independent film being shot here in Boulder. Since film school I’ve only been involved in “corporate” projects, so I thought it would be nice to get work on something creative again. Who knew it would be just like having a real job! Waking up at 5:30 each morning, never really knowing when we’d wrap for the day, we even worked through weekends! Technically I suppose that I knew exactly what I was getting into and I was expecting the early morning crew calls – but I’m pretty sure my friends were still laughing at me.

Actually the schedule was extremely good for a film. The director had things nicely organized, and although our shooting schedule was aggressive it did move things along quickly (to the point where we actually finished shooting two days early). Working on the film was a great experience that allowed me to meet some extremely talented people – and I’m not just saying that on the off chance that they accidentally stumble across my blog. Good times.

A few days into the shoot I decided to bring my camera and assume the additional role of Still Photographer. Those of you who are interested can find a selection of photos from the shoot on my Picasa site here.

Enjoy.

Stupid Bike Lust

2007-07-17T08:52:00.000-06:00

When I was in Chicago a few months back I had an opportunity to meet my friend Angela’s boyfriend Jacob. I actually spent quite a bit of time with him, as we often happened to be in the same place at the same time. Seemed like a pretty cool guy – friendly and amusing. Rumor has it he’s even a kick ass chef, and no one who ~~speaks German~~ cooks could be an evil man. Unfortunately he’s also an asshole… but maybe that’s just the jealousy talking. Because Jacob just sent me this – a picture of his new Bianchi Pista fixie, complete with flip-flop hub. Bastard.

Spanish Fly

2007-07-11T15:14:00.000-06:00

This past Monday I did what I assume every self-respecting, self-employed person does when faced with a new work week – duck out early and go for a road ride. I was joined by my friend Jenny, who is currently training for a triathlon (stupid sprinters). Jenny is also self-employed, although judging by the quality and quantity of work coming out of her design firm these days I think it’s safe to say that she’s a bit more earnest in her endeavors (we all have our faults). Anyway we wrap up our fairly respectable thirty mile ride around 5pm. Like all good athletes in training we wish to replenish the nutrients our bodies used during the ride, so we point our bikes toward Illegal Pete’s in search of recovery beer & tortilla chips. Mmm, recovery beer.

Arriving at Illegal Pete’s we lock down our bikes and stake claim to a table on the patio bordering Pearl Street (a major pedestrian thoroughfare). Since we went directly from the ride to the bar, my friend and I are both attired in biking gear – specifically bike jerseys and lycra bike shorts. I thought nothing of this at the time; hell if I can wear bike shorts into a convenience store in backwoods northern Michigan where the very sight of lycra inspires banjo music straight out of Deliverance, wearing bike shorts in Boulder, Colorado certainly isn’t going to be an issue. So there we are hanging out eating chips and drinking recover beer, when I begin to notice a strange phenomenon. We’re getting checked out - constantly. I can’t recall the last time I received so many smiles, giggles, sideways glances, etc. After passing with a smile, one girl even went so far as to turn around for a second look… and then wave at me when our eyes met. I tend not to notice guys (pillars), but I’m sure Jenny must have been experiencing similar events (because really, duh). Could this be the holy grail I’ve been looking for? Obviously females attract our attention through the use of revealing clothing (or just by being alive really), do jerseys & lycra bike shorts have a similar effect on girls? For the sake of everyone out there I certainly hope not, but it does make you think.

Stupid uppity tomatoes

2007-07-10T21:58:00.000-06:00

In an effort to placate my lethargic tenancies I recently used a pre-made, off-the-shelf marinara sauce in place of the from scratch version that I've been playing with as of late. A blander meal I can not recall. Why is the stuff we really want always so difficult to obtain? Stupid life lesson teaching pasta sauce.

Yup

2007-07-04T12:50:00.000-06:00

We live here.

mmm, bacon

2007-07-03T18:32:00.000-06:00

Son of a b*tch, who knew that the don’t cook bacon naked rule also applied to stir frying carrots? Seriously, wtf. On a related topic, my rice is mushy. If anyone knows the proper rice to water ratio for Thai Sweet Rice I’d love to know.

The Beatles Were Wrong

2007-07-02T19:56:00.001-06:00

Happiness is not a warm gun, happiness is my new air conditioning unit. My stupid expensive what have I done it isn't even energy star approved but wow life is better all of a sudden air conditioning unit.

Oh and just an FYI - if anyone wants to watch me while I sleep now's your chance, my blinds don't quite close with the AC unit in place...

Moral Compass

2007-06-27T12:39:00.001-06:00

A few weeks back Boulder experienced extremely heavy gusts, 60+ mph type stuff (I’m making the 60+ part up, but the mph is true). I remember this well because it all went down the night that I was scheduled to fly back to Boulder, and as a result I spent way too much time in O’Hare (on the plus side, I now know of a nice little beer kiosk located between two terminals – perfect for when the real bars are packed).

Anyway several beers later the wind dies down and I am able to catch a flight home. The next morning I step onto my patio, and discover that a planter box has blown into my garden. It’s a rather nice hanging planter box actually, and I assume someone must be missing it. Naturally I wish to do the right thing, so after a few days of laziness I place the planter in a high-traffic outdoor area near our mailboxes. This was weeks ago (maybe), and by now I feel it safe to assume that everyone in the surrounding condos has seen the planter box. The planter box that is still there. Now this is a pretty cool planter box, and if no one else wants it I might as well claim it for my own. Be my moral compass Internet, has it been long enough that I can make the planter my own?

One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster

2007-06-26T10:59:00.000-06:00

mlepix (10:38:17 AM): I need to hear stories

ifrdr1 (10:39:07 AM): hmm okay

ifrdr1 (10:39:19 AM): i've been meaning to blog about this, but it doesn't seem funny or story like

ifrdr1 (10:39:36 AM): so this past weekend 2 friends and i headed to telluride for the bluegrass festival

ifrdr1 (10:39:52 AM): festivaled it up friday night, then saturday we decided to play on the river (one friend had a 4 person inflatable boat, life jackets, etc.)

ifrdr1 (10:40:05 AM): lazy river stuff, we had a cooler of beer and wanted to combine mild rapids with beery goodness

ifrdr1 (10:40:40 AM): talked to a rafting company in town and they said the river was good class 1 and 2 stuff. 1 is floaty beer drinking, and 2 is rapidy but not really.

ifrdr1 (10:40:58 AM): so we put in, and for the next hour it's nonstop rapids. class 2 and class 3 stuff, no breaks and certainly no floaty beer drinking

ifrdr1 (10:41:11 AM): we’re bouncing off rocks, doing our best to steer

ifrdr1 (10:41:25 AM): no beer breaks at all - not even time to bail out the boat which was extremely full of water

ifrdr1 (10:41:43 AM): getting slapped in the face by waves, etc. I haven’t taken that kind of a beating since Thailand.

ifrdr1 (10:42:41 AM): eventually we manage to find a "calm" area on the side of the river, jump out and pull the boat out of the water (a long process since by now it was completely full of water). Except replace “find” with “get stuck in a tree near a shallow area”

ifrdr1 (10:43:00 AM): we were extremely thankful/lucky to "find" that spot

ifrdr1 (10:43:12 AM): cause it was sort of tip the boat scary, but in a fun safe way of course.

ifrdr1 (10:43:32 AM): anyway i had my cell phone along on this voyage, because call for help seems responsible.

ifrdr1 (10:43:47 AM): cell phone & wallet were packed inside of a ziplock bag - the one i keep it in when i bike

ifrdr1 (10:43:55 AM): then this ziplock was placed inside of the "dry bag"

ifrdr1 (10:44:12 AM): turns out the drybag doesn’t really stay all that dry when the entire boat fills up with water

ifrdr1 (10:44:53 AM): when we finally escaped the clutches of the river i had a chance to look in the drybag

ifrdr1 (10:44:58 AM): completely full of water

ifrdr1 (10:45:13 AM): the ziplock containing my phone and wallet? also full of water

ifrdr1 (10:45:33 AM): the camelback i brought with me for water & storage? submerged in a foot of water

mlepix (10:46:36 AM): hee hee I'm enjoying this

ifrdr1 (10:45:51 AM): the birkenstocks i had in the camelback? same story

ifrdr1 (10:46:05 AM): even my 1st aid kit got waterlogged

ifrdr1 (10:46:08 AM): crazy stuff

ifrdr1 (10:46:19 AM): then we walked back the 3ish miles to the car

ifrdr1 (10:46:44 AM): along the way ran into 4 kayakers all decked out in kayaky gear with whitewater kayaks

ifrdr1 (10:47:08 AM): they said the rapids were class 3, and were rather incredulous that we were rafting. I assume this is because they were in awe of our prowess, rather then amused by our stupidity

ifrdr1 (10:47:16 AM): they said if we went any further we would have really been in trouble

mlepix (11:01:17 AM): adventurous weekend!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ifrdr1 (11:30:29 AM): okay blog has been composed, can u think of a good title?

mlepix (11:31:30 AM): hot and wet

mlepix (11:31:40 AM): unless you want this to be family friendly

ifrdr1 (11:31:24 AM): i do my best not to allow parents to see the blog

ifrdr1 (11:31:30 AM): but still that might be too suggestive for me

ifrdr1 (11:31:34 AM): i blush easily you know.

*The conversation above has been edited for content and my own amusement. Actual rafting may or may not have occurred.

Green & Bouldery

2007-06-18T12:05:00.000-06:00

A few days ago I did my first ever grocery shopping trip via bike. This trip was made possible thanks to my fancy new courier bag, an item purchased primarily for work related purposes. Still when not in use for whatever it is that I do, this bag doubles nicely as a carryall for general use around town. I was able to stuff the bag with enough food to last several days. I rarely buy more then 3 days worth of food at a time anyway (as anyone who has seen my cabinets/fridge can attest) so this seems just about perfect. I imagine that I will still make the occasional trip via car to pickup larger items not conducive to being stuffed in a courier bag, but I see many shopping trips via bike in my future. I feel all green and Bouldery (plus not paying for gas appeals to my “thrifty” nature…).

Still, groceries? Food is good, but something about the whole event lacked excitement. Cue the liquor store. Turns out I can easily fit two six packs in the bag – and three would not have been out of the realm of possibility. Now I really feel Bouldery.

Apparently photography is thirsty work.

What I learned on my summer vacation

2007-06-08T13:51:00.000-06:00

According to my friend Namehere the Asian Beatle is very pretty, but it bites. And that’s bad. I’ve always been extremely fond of pretty things that bite, so this was quite the revelation for me.

Sushi is good. Stupid sushi, now the cravings will start up again – and you know the night terrors won’t be far behind.

Thai food kicks ass, and they do it right in Chicago.

Repeat ↑, but use the words Chinese, Italian and Indian. Especially Indian.

Apparently all I did was eat while I was in Chicago.

Might as well add ice cream to the list as well.

Photo Assignment: Chicago is cool.

Zoos pictures are more fun with a telephoto lens…

Then without…

But that doesn’t mean all is lost.

Family.

Three Times! Makes for an amusing story, but seriously what the hell.

Photoshop is awesome, and I know nothing about it. Or at least not enough about it. But now I can do this thing where stuff glows. Or doesn’t glow. Either way something definitely will or won’t happen when I use layers.

Instead of keeping honey inside of a plastic bear, keep it inside of a glass container. Then if the honey crystallizes and has to be tossed in the microwave it will still taste like honey, instead of tasting like cancer.

And that’s what I learned on my summer vacation.

Hurty Goodness

2007-05-31T10:19:00.000-06:00

Last weekend was the 7th annual Lyons Fat Tire Festival, hosted by Redstone Cyclery of Lyons Colorado. Two days of truly excellent mountain biking, epic death-march type stuff with over 4,000 feet of climbing. Awesome.

The event has been thoroughly recapped here and here so I won’t bore you (me) with a play by play description, but I wanted to touch on the highlights. Because really, this was pretty damn cool. So um, here are the take aways.

Biking is good. Climbing is hurty good, and descending is fast. Swoopy is fun. Girls are soft and pretty (technically that’s more of a life take away then a biking take away, but sometimes soft and pretty girls bike). Dale’s Pale Ale is the perfect post ride beverage. Biking is good.

That pretty much covers it I think – but if you didn’t get enough you can checkout my image gallery for pictures!

I'm a Dad!

2007-05-30T16:01:00.000-06:00

The king is dead, long live the king

2007-05-30T11:11:00.000-06:00

So a few weeks back I was sitting in the Nashville airport, waiting for my flight home after a meeting. I’ve got time to kill and for once I’m actually being productive. The laptop is out, I’m referring to papers spread on the chair next to me, I’m on and off the cell phone – if I didn’t know any better I’d say I was one of those guys who you know, worked. I was even dressed all prettylike because I had just come from a meeting. Crazy. Anyway there I am working furiously, when a woman approaches. It seemed that she had somehow locked her cell phone, and was hoping that I might be able to assist. Although unfamiliar with her phone I naturally said I would be glad to help, and put forth a couple of (tolerable at best) ideas. Before we could act the woman’s four year old daughter comes running up, “mommy, mommy, you do it like this”! The girl grabs the phone from her mother and after a flurry of keystrokes too fast for mortal eyes to detect, presents the now functioning phone to her mother. I’ve been technology gapped.

To Do...

2007-02-16T16:33:00.000-07:00

I’m very fond of to do lists, they’re a great way of keeping life organized. Plus, once something’s written down I can forget it and let my brain move on to the next thing! Yesterday was errand day, so naturally I had my trusty to do list to guide me on my way. I was going about my business completing my errands when the second line on my list made me do a double-take… Knee pads & lube. Now really there’s a good explanation for this – I am getting ready for a trip to Moab to go mountain biking. The lube is for my bike chain, and the protective knee pads will help avoid knee surgery when I crash and go flying into a pile of rocks. Honest.

Stupid new expensive photomaker machine

2007-02-11T19:38:00.000-07:00

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifrdr/

Class

2006-12-24T11:45:00.000-07:00

It’s good to be back in the Midwest. Oh and in case you’re wondering, yes that is a Lexus in the picture. Class.

What's black and white, and read all over?

2006-11-27T20:36:00.000-07:00

Today I splattered a meat-based tomato sauce (homemade from scratch of course) all over my Moosewood cookbook. It’s going to taste delicious.

That's your answer for everything

2006-11-27T14:42:00.001-07:00

epiphany in a blink and i’m knuckle deep in eggs and baking powder. buckets of flour and a thirst for vengeance. coffee strong enough to choke a dead horse. godlike, this power of creation : vanilla extract takes the edge off. top of the world ma, no one’s gonna stop us now. but the thing is, kings do fall – too late remembered. substitute ingenuity, but something’s off - calamity & downward spiraling. life makes the best choose-your-own-adventure of all, don’t you think? maple syrup fixes all.

Ten Punch

2006-10-23T14:26:00.000-06:00

So it turns out that someone over at the BRC thinks I’m pretty f’n cool. I know this because when I got my pass in the mail the other day I saw that they had given me a nickname. I’m now Mike (ten punch) Lastnamehere. That’s right, ten punch – pretty masculine sounding, isn’t it. They must have dreamed it up while watching me climb some of the more impressive 5.9-s.

Oh and sorry for blocking out the personal info but I’ve already had my share of stalkers and although they make for interesting stories, I don’t really need more. Unless of course you’re young, female and cute (with photo) – then stalk away because my wish is your command and I’ll do whatever you say. Unit.

Ah, nostalgia

2006-10-18T16:53:00.000-06:00

So this past Tuesday I flew to Cleveland, OH – smack dab in the heart of the Midwest. The cold, grey, drizzly Midwest. Sunshine? Ha! The Midwest scoffs at sunshine, that’s for West Coast vegetable eaters. Eternal bleakness punctuated by a cold & steady drip. drip. drip. Water torture at it’s finest – each drop more crafty then the last as it sneaks down your collar and attempts to steal your soul. Ah, nostalgia.

On a related note on the plane ride from Denver to Cleveland I begin the book Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs. What the hell was I thinking. Before I finished first page I had come to the conclusion that I will never be cool enough to understand this book. Now I’m a huge fan of free association, but seriously, damn. How many drugs I would have to do before this thing makes sense? (Seriously, I’m curious.)

Walking Sucks

2006-10-01T02:00:00.000-06:00

So as it turns out it takes just over an hour to walk from Boulder Station to my place. Stupid walking, I could have done that in less then 15 minutes on a bike (and still stopped to pee in the bushes near Folsom & Valmont).

So um hey, welcome back

2006-08-31T10:40:00.000-06:00

Tuesday evening was the first night that I spent in my new place. Boxes scattered everywhere of course, but on the whole the scene was ideal. Before bed I sat out on the patio listening to crickets chirp - truly serene. Wed morning I wake up and have coffee on the patio while birds sing in the background. What a lovely idea it was to purchase a condo, whatever was I worried about?

So after a long day of moving I return to my new place around 11:30 pm. It's late but what the heck, decide to unwind with a beer on the patio (I like the patio). I'm sitting there making condo related plans and thinking about life in general (i.e. girls), when I hear a rustling in the nearby bushes. Excellent, I'll get to meet another of the neighborhood cats! Now I'm peering through the bushes trying to locate whatever is making the noise - here kitty kitty kitty. Rustling gets louder, bushes part and suddenly 10ft away there it is in all it's glory - white stripe almost glowing in the moonlight against the bushy black fur. Bad kitty, I think I'll slowly go inside now. Ease the slider door shut and breath a sigh of relief - and then proceed to turn off all the living room lights so I don't accidentally startle the thing. Interesting encounter, not the neighbor I had hoped for but what can you do.

Time for bed and I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth when I have encounter number two - a spider the size of a quarter sitting in the bathtub plotting to kill me. Seriously it had a whiteboard out and was brainstorming different ways to kill me, it was very frightening. If it wasn’t for the glass partition separating the bathtub from the rest of the bathroom I’d have been a goner for sure. With the glass providing a comforting illusion of safety I decided to let the spider be until morning – after all it had lived in the condo longer then I had (plus it scared me and if I had to go head to head with the thing there was no way I was going to do it in the black of night when it's powers were strongest). I was really hoping it would just go away nicely during the night - it didn't so we had to rumble this morning. Sure it was evil incarnate, but I had good on my side and the telephone book to prove it. Victory is mine.

Okay so two strikes against this place but what the heck, it's a beautiful day and life is good. Make coffee and proceed to the patio, wonderful times. Sip my coffee listening to the birds, the sprinklers, dogs barking quietly in the distance, the buzzing. The buzzing? Oh fun, a bee. And another bee. Look, lots of bees who like to hang out on my patio. Joy. So that's three plagues in less then 24 hrs - what the hell have I gotten myself into?

Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?

2006-06-05T23:25:00.000-06:00

I was thinking about gladiators today (try to find a way to twist that out of context why don’t you). Well not gladiators per say, that might have been a bit creepy. What I was really thinking about was the spinny kniffy thing on chariot wheels. I think this somehow needs to be adapted for bikes. First of all I freely acknowledge that Boulder is a bike friendly town – the variety of bike lanes offered here is pretty darn cool. Still, auto vs. bike incidents are bound to occur. In the past few weeks I’ve has two separate encounters where drivers (in large SUVs naturally) decided to make sharp right turns directly in front of me. In one instance locking the brakes and skidding sideways was the only reason I didn’t end up doing a face plant on the side of a Toyota 4-Runner. Now I’m not seriously thinking that bikes will ever be a significant contender in a Cars vs. Bikes cage match o’death. Still, the thought of two spinning blades of justice wreaking havoc (and war – can't have proper havoc without war) on the paint of their precious SUV might make some drivers think twice before cutting off another biker. Failing that at least the biker could take it like a man and go down fighting - you know, gladiator style.

One Toke? You poor fool! Wait till you see those goddamn bats.

2006-05-25T16:15:00.000-06:00

I am currently in the midst of reading Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Although I checked it out from the library because it has long been on my reading list, it is especially apropos today as friends are I are about to embark on a road trip of our own this Memorial Day weekend. There are any number of truly excellent lines from the book, many of which I would like to share with you here. But I won’t. The real reason that I am discussing the book is that as I was reading today, rolling papers fell out of the book. Rolling papers with adorable little pot leaves printed on them. I mean really could it get any more cliché? I get it already, it’s a book about drugs. No doubt the same person who left the papers used a live tiger as a bookmark when they were reading Life of Pi.

Spanking the Monkey

2006-05-16T12:45:00.001-06:00

Recently an opportunity came across my plate to act as a meeting coordinator for an event taking place in Denver. This isn’t what I normally do, but since the day rate was semi-decent and I had nothing else going that day I decided what the heck. Wait a few days and receive the information packet/meeting materials that were sent to me. And the topic of the meeting is….. Porno! That’s right, porno porno porno. Actually it’s Pornography: Strategies for Helping Client’s Manage & Overcome the Addiction and it’s offered to Psychologists and other counselors in need of continuing education credits. And by continuing education I mean freaky Internet porn.

So today’s the big day, and as I type I’m sitting outside the Porno meeting room. All morning I’ve been expecting to hear a driving bass line and all sorts of shrieks of delight emanating from the room, but so far nothing (ball gags must be working – not that I know what a ball gag is of course, but I saw them on Pulp Fiction). The meeting is not a complete disappointment however – when I stepped inside the room a few minutes ago to see how things were going the first thing that I heard was “giant raging hard-on”. Naturally I started giggling (to myself - I am a professional after all). So basically the meeting is amusing, but sedate. I think it might need something to liven it up a bit (within reason of course). My thought is to have the hotel roll a trundle bed into the front of the room and leave it up by the presenter’s area. Nothing would be said or done – no overt porno references. Just a nice visual aid. What do you think?

It’s funny because it’s true.

2006-04-26T11:35:00.000-06:00

I found this picture on my friend Emily’s blog (she’s an excellent wedding photographer, so if any of you plan to get married you should hire her to shoot the wedding). This kid is going to have to suffer through years of expensive therapy to get over his (perfectly rational) fear of clowns, but if one ignores the crazymaking aspects then this is the coolest shirt I’ve ever seen.

Self-Deprecating War Room Sandbox

2006-04-17T13:31:00.000-06:00

As you may have noticed, my postings these days have grown few and far between. With the weather as beautiful as it has been recently I have been too busy playing outside to do justice to my blog – a pattern that I can only see continuing as the days get nicer. So with that in mind I plan to take a page from network TV, and offer you… a clip show! Enjoy this bit of recycled reading material, and I hope you’re enjoying this time of year as much as I am!

I Make A Suit Look Good
Survival hinges upon the destructive cycle of male pattern baldness. Monkeys check the blond box, am I right people? Who’s with me! Communists. Lymphoma, Idaho sets off a phone tree that would do any PTA proud, crashing down on my mind like a hippo with a 2pm tee time. Can see potential in the Styrofoam pieces non-fraternization policy; food is dead to me.

The logical assumption: The form of a young female covering myself in acorn-butter. Except replace the word startling with blueberry and the word revelation with monkey. A real life Natalie Portman riding at the head of a squirrel armada: Back off, I’m not a zombie yet. Baseball, Bud Light and lap dances. My boyish good looks and giant foam fingers - a body built for sin. la La la freakin’ la, the plan is abandoned.

Nights in the laboratory attempting to perfect my soup du jour. I own wicking base layers and resort to cannibalism. I feel dirty but I digress.

Brief flirtation with a viscous Lion King chanting “kill kill kill kill”, to be honest I wasn’t listening too closely. I’m tearing the cupboards apart to protect my well crafted theory - the form of a young female lying on the kitchen floor clutching a small (lexan) vial of holy water. Crap again, talk about foreshadowing.

I’m not skinny, I’m sweet and innocent – the flavor of the month. Smart, cute & outdoorsy women bite me so I could become a zombie. Eating people, the perfect cross-training activity.

Vote Republican - too horrific to contemplate or a rose by any other name.

Rock(ed) My World

2006-04-04T13:24:00.000-06:00

So my whole world was rocked the other day. Not like that – I mean rocked as in turned upside down crazy-like (again, not like that), whole life is a lie kind of stuff. I was in the midst of casual conversation with two friends, passing the time of day as we worked. Little did I know what sort of bombshell they were about to drop on me. I’ll give you a second to brace yourself – a courtesy sadly denied to me. Ready? They said I have neither blond hair nor blue eyes. Whoa. I mean certain things in life we hold to be self-evident and are not to be trifled with. The world is round. Colorado kicks ass. Monkeys are funny. I have blond hair and blue eyes. It even says so on my driver’s license – both the old Michigan one and the new Colorado one! But no, my friends decide to kick in the very foundation of my beliefs, my very being if you will. I’m not talking about some crap like being of blond haired blue-eyed German descent (Aryan sounds to neo-nazi, although I guess it would technically have been the correct word to use here), that’s not important. I’m talking about simplicity. For example, now when I’m filling out a form and it asks for hair or eye color, what do I do?! Do I have to put some drivel about sandy blondish brown kinda? Not really blue but almost blue grey, depending on whether I’m wearing my blue-tinted contacts or not? Life used to be so simple – check the blond box and check the blue box. Now it looks like I have to check the “other” box, and you know what kind of people do that? Communists.

Tennis & Oreos

2006-03-30T15:07:00.000-07:00

I had a startling revelation today. Except replace the word startling with blueberry and the word revelation with monkey. Monkeys are funny. Now replace monkey with thought, and delete blueberry altogether. I had a thought today. That’s still not the right word, but it’ll do until I can find a better one.

Right now I’m sitting in an airport bar (a sports bar, but in my defense it is the only bar in the terminal. Plus they are showing women’s tennis on TV, and that’s just hot) reminiscing about my diet during the 5 or so days that I was working down in Florida. I was looking at the menu (after ordering a beer of course – I have priorities) and I realized nothing sounded good. I’ve eaten so much crap over the past few days that food is dead to me. This is common – it happens on just about every program. But why? I’ve never really stopped to analyze the cause of my gluttony. Experience has taught me that structured meal breaks are few and far between while I am on the road. While my clients have scheduled meals and breaks, for me those times are more likely to be slated for rehearsals and other production related tasks then they are sustenance. As such it is now ingrained within me that my very survival hinges upon the handful of cookies I am able to pilfer from a break station. Pastry for breakfast. Cookies for lunch. Cookies for dinner – followed by a “real” dinner around 11 because one can not live on cookies alone. And then we get to the real culprit – leftovers. On those (not so) rare occasions that there is leftover food after a client’s meal function has completed, that food will typically be delivered to the staff HQ for our consumption. This is the high point of the staff’s day - myself included. I don’t really have the words to describe how exciting this is to us. The merest hint of an impending meal sets off a phone tree that would do any PTA proud. “Cookies spotted in Salon A”. “Lunch being delivered to HQ in two minutes – tell your crew”.

Sorry I lost my train of thought – was watching women’s tennis again. Damn. I mean seriously, damn. Anyway I was thinking about this food phenomenon, and I may have figured out why I continue to engage in this destructive cycle of male pattern baldness. Sure part of it is that at heart I’m thrifty, and if I can eat free food instead of spending my per diem I will do so every time. There’s more though – it goes pretty deep. I think the reason that I (and my coworkers) engage in such poor dietary habits while on the road is that food is the only real outlet that we have. While on the road I’m usually working crazy insane hours – and even if I have an evening off it’s usually with the understanding that I’m on call and could be required to return at any moment. Most of my clients also have a non-fraternization policy, which basically means that hotel bars and what not are off limits even if we had time to patronize them. Food is really the only thing we have left to add excitement to our lives. This is why it’s okay when I eat an entire box of Oreos in 3 days or have 2 deserts with every meal. I feel fat.

Wooden Fish Mallet

2006-03-28T16:48:00.000-07:00

So today I’m packing up ten Dell 20” LCD monitors that my client used during a conference down in Florida. My computer vendor had shipped the monitors to me in the original OEM boxes, complete with three pieces of Styrofoam that had to be layered just so in order for the box to close. I’m working on the first monitor, but the Styrofoam pieces just don’t seem to want to fit properly around the monitor. No matter what I do one part ends up sticking up too high, and the box won’t close (but then again who hasn’t had that problem – am I right people? Who’s with me!). Now I have packed this style of monitor on many occasions, so I know how it’s done. In the back of my mind I recall that one box had been packed differently – an older style of packing perhaps before Dell changed to a newer easy to use system. Still it’s just Styrofoam right? I can get this. I try every single possible combination at least five times. Thirty minutes have passed since my first attempt. I can see potential in the Styrofoam pieces – each one is crafted in such a way that it is obvious where it should go in relation to the monitor. The thing is, it just doesn’t work with the box. Crap. I’m approaching the 45 minute mark now (in reality it was more like the 25 minute mark, but it seemed like 45) so I decide to step back and try something new. I’m sold on my theory that this box is just a slightly different/older style. I decide to pack the newer ones first and come back to this one last. Maybe I can sneak up on it, and if it doesn't see me coming it won't put up such a fight. Life is good, I have a plan. Move on to the next box… and it’s exactly the same. There goes my well crafted theory. Stare at this one for about 20 seconds, when the answer hits me: I’m a moron. Actually what occurred to me was the fact that the LCD screen has to be disconnected from the base before it can be packed in the box, and I had been trying to pack the unit as a whole. Still a rose by any other name. Anyway with this brilliant piece of insight firmly within my grasp I finished with all ten monitors in a scant 30 minutes – the same amount of time I spent trying to figure out the first monitor. One of my prouder moments.

Joseph Heller

2006-03-21T10:49:00.000-07:00

Remember that scene in the movie Howard the Duck where Lea Thompson does that thing with the pizza? Well three days ago I ran out of coffee.

Sure we all make contingency plans for this sort of thing – battle plans are drawn up, scale models are pushed around in the war room sandbox, any number of hollow gestures designed to make us feel safe and secure. Why worry – there is a plan in place! So there I am, waking up to another pleasant valley Sunday here in status symbol land. Splash some water on my face and head downstairs for the first cup of the day. Who knows, maybe I’m even whistling – la La la freakin’ la. Because I don’t know. I just didn’t see it coming.

When I come to I’m lying on the kitchen floor clutching an empty bag of Peet’s Major Dickason Whole Bean – and that’s when the whole horrifying chain of events comes crashing down on my mind like a hippo with a 2pm tee time. There is no coffee. There was no coffee.

This past Friday I was shocked to discover that I only had enough beans for one cup of coffee – two if I drank it normal strength instead of my usual superdark. No worries, I’d pick some up at the store and be ready to roll by Saturday. Stuff happens. No coffee Saturday, but a friend takes pity on me and shares her stash. Sunday shows up – still no coffee. Remember driving home from a friend’s house at 2am that morning, thinking I should see if there is an all night grocery store so I can buy coffee. Didn’t do it. Crap. Coffee shop time. I had every intention of going to the grocery store on Sunday (after all I had run out off food at least 3 days before I ran out of coffee), but in the end the couch prevailed. Monday rolls around and now I’m desperate – I mean I’m tearing the cupboards apart looking for a single serving pack that I missed (I take single serving packs from hotels – one of the aforementioned contingency plans). Elated I come across a handful hotel coffee packets! Decaffeinated hotel coffee packets. Crap again.

There’s no way around it – I’ve got to go to the grocery store… but I’m so tired! Drink one cup of tea. Nothing. Drink another cup of tea. Nothing. Drink cup number three. Still nothing – the plan is abandoned. Eventually the lure of ice cream forces me to leave the house – but not until 8:45 pm that evening. The plague is over – I made it to the store and I now have a fresh supply of coffee. Still that doesn’t change the fact that for three days I wanted coffee, but a lack of caffeine induced motivation kept me from fulfilling my dreams. It’s like a viscous Lion King/Circle of Life thing where the hyenas are played by an empty bag of coffee beans and Nala is played by a real life Natalie Portman. Except that analogy really doesn’t apply well to this situation. It’s more of a Catch-22 then a Circle of Life, but Catch-22 doesn’t involve Natalie Portman and what good is an analogy that doesn’t involve Natalie Portman. Talk about a Catch-22! Wait that doesn’t make sense either. I’m going to go have another cup of coffee and think this over.

Sweet delicious brains

2006-03-17T19:10:00.000-07:00

You know, I’ve got a pretty good thing going right now with this whole freelance thing. I expect that I will be able to milk this for another few years at a bare minimum – more if I put the smallest amount of effort into finding new clients (doubtful but stranger things have happened). Still it’s never too early to be thinking about your future. As luck would have it, my recent work related trip to Orlando uncovered a unique skill-set that I had long forgotten. When under the effects of stress and a severe lack of sleep I have the uncanny ability to turn myself into a zombie. Okay so the transformation isn’t perfect – right now it’s just a dumber version of me – but it has potential. I mean I can carry on conversations using words that have absolutely no relevance to the topic at hand. I can walk for hours with a purposeful stride, and upon arriving at my destination have no idea why I wanted to be there. I make a suit look good (that has no relevance to my zombie story, I just wanted to throw it out there). As if those weren't reason enough, a friend once told me that my run could only be described as the shambling gate of a zombie. Talk about foreshadowing!

You know, when I think of it the possibilities are endless. One day I could be an extra in a slasher film, and the next day I could be the guest of honor at the groundbreaking ceremony for the latest McDonalds in Lymphoma, Idaho. Sure I’ve got a bit of work to do – the whole eating people thing will probably take some time to get used to – but like I said I’ve got a few years before this comes to pass. It feels kind of nice knowing that my future is secure.

PS – So I know what you’re thinking. “That sounds cool, I wish he would bite me so I could become a zombie”. First of all back off, I’m not a zombie yet. Plus even though it’s an established fact that the werewolf gene is passed along through biting, I’m not positive that zombies are created that way. Unless someone can come up with a definitive answer to this question I guess we’ll have to rely on trial and error (a valid scientific method).

PPS – I was just kidding about that back off thing. Um hey, how’s it going.

Red States

2006-03-07T11:21:00.002-07:00

This is fairly interesting for the non-worldy traveler. Follow the link below to create a map of all of the States you have visited. Notice that I am not attempting this with a world map! Incidentally be warned - I'm fairly certain that since the program automatically colors visited states with a nice bright red you are agreeing to vote Republican in the next election if you reside in or visit one of your red states on election day.

create your own visited states map

Soup du Jour

2006-03-07T11:21:00.000-07:00

As I was sitting down this morning having my coffee time (i.e. 9 to 11:30), I came across an interesting article on the web. This article is really meant to be an editorial piece on another story dealing with blogging and corporate PR departments that is currently running in the New York Times. Since blogging seems to be my soup du jour at the moment I dove right in without hesitation – after all what if they mentioned my blog? (Surprisingly enough they didn’t). The gist of the article(s) is that Wal*Mart is feeding PR releases to independent bloggers, who then post the information on their own sites – often unedited and under the guise of their own opinions.

What great stuff! If I post about this on my blog maybe I can share a real world relevant opinion about something – perhaps even raise the intellectual level of my writings up a notch (or dare I dream, two notches?). Plus who doesn’t love some good old fashioned Wal*Mart bashing!?!? The thing is, I don’t have a problem with this. Hell I don’t even consider it newsworthy. So a big corporation decided to look into creative marketing/PR techniques. It probably wasn’t even their idea, no doubt it was some smart & shinny PR firm doing what they do best, and getting paid handsomely to do so. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not fond of Wal*Mart in general - after all I’ve seen at least 60% of the PBS documentary exposing them as the Al Qaida of the big box retailers. But we are purported to be a capitalistic society and people vote with their dollars. Personally I do my best not to shop at Wal*Mart because I do not approve of their labor or supplier practices, but

Can we stop a second to acknowledge the fact that I just used the words purported AND capitalistic in the same sentence! Who cares if I didn’t necessarily use them in the “correct” context – them’s still some big words. I think I raised this blog up an intellectual level in that sentence alone – maybe even a level for each word.

And we’re back. Okay I’m bored with the direction the blog was headed – that’s not news and I don’t care. Luckily that was just the opening monologue, the real reason for me highlighting this article is the following sentence:

“What is the use of a blog if bloggers are just going to copy sentences and sentiments from the puppetmaster's email?"

WOW! I mean seriously, this opens whole new realms of possibility! I’m obviously talking about the role of Puppetmaster here. Sure everyone has the dream of riding at the head of a squirrel armada – with the furry little creatures under your control no one could stop you. No one that is besides a Puppetmaster with his own army of bloggeteers… Is it possible – has technology advanced to the point where I can give up nights in the laboratory attempting to perfect squirrel mind control? In one sense that would be nice, because so far the only mind control technique that I’ve had any (limited) success with thus far involves covering myself in acorn-butter, and as you well know that can get fairly sticky. So what do you think, is it time to refocus my energies? Could this article be the sign I have been waiting for that the world ready for a new Puppetmaster to emerge? Does anyone need 5 gallons of acorn-butter?

A body built for sin

2006-03-06T15:20:00.000-07:00

So this past weekend one of the people that I was climbing with came out with a startling revelation: I’m an ectoplasm. Or an ectomorph. It’s ecto-something but to be honest I wasn’t listening too closely. The general thrust of her statement had something to do with the three general body types – pear shaped, muscular and ectoplasm. Apparently I’m the last, which further discussion defined as someone who has the ability to work out and become toned, rather then “built”.

I have long suspected something of this nature to be true as my athletic endeavors seem to have no correlation whatsoever with weight gain or muscle mass. In fact in the past 7 years the only time that I gained any significant weight (okay it was only 10lbs, but for me that’s significant as it landed me at my highest weight ever) was the winter of 2003 when my friends and I decided drinking was the perfect cross-training activity to get us in shape for the spring season. Didn’t work too well for riding, and to add insult to injury I was back to my old fighting weight within weeks of getting back on the bike. Cynics would say that it was my choice of activities that was the limiting factor here – after all biking is not really a sport renowned for turning out body builders. The thing is, my brief flirtation with indoor climbing during the winter of 2002 and the few short affairs that I had with gyms/weight lifting have yielded similar results. I get toned – fairly quickly actually – but that’s it.

It’s nice to finally have a definitive, science-based answer to this issue. Yes it means that I might finally be forced to give up my dream of playing quarterback on the high-school football team, but even so it’s as if a giant weight has been lifted of my shoulders (I mean in addition to the weight that would come with being forced to learn the rules of football or actually start caring about the game). I’m not skinny, I’m ectoplastic!

I love you - change

2006-03-03T14:39:00.000-07:00

When my friends and I have gotten together recently, a recurring conversational thread has been humor styles and the possible adverse effect they can have on beginning a relationship. Specifically, one of my female friends put forth the idea that women perceive self-deprecating humor as reflecting a lack of confidence in one’s self. Personally I believe nothing could be further from the truth – jokes of this nature are all about confidence. In the right context and when used in moderation I feel that this style of humor can be very effective and amusing. The thing is though, how I feel about the subject really doesn’t matter. After all, the point my friend was making was not how I perceive self-deprecating humor; it was how women perceive self-deprecating humor, and in a larger sense humor in general.

The question of humor is one that I have recently been banging my head against in my own life. As I mentioned in an earlier post I am experimenting with online dating. I am a bit skeptical of the whole scene and figure that my chances of meeting someone “in real life” are better, but I have heard enough success stories that I no longer distrust it entirely. Still, even though there appear to be a large number of smart, cute & outdoorsy women (Thank you Colorado, I am so glad I am no longer in Saginaw, Michigan!!!) I am not blanketing the internet with pleas for attention & dates. Instead I might occasionally find someone whose profile really amused & impressed me – someone that I could tell had a sense of humor. I’ll be honest humor is pretty key to my life, and I’ve ended more then one potential relationship when I didn’t find the girl funny or she didn’t understand my style of humor. Because of this on the rare occasion that I find someone that I am interested in writing, I will attempt to interject humor into the letter. With my boyish good looks, capacity for witty, intelligent banter and general love of the outdoors (a prerequisite for dating Colorado women it seems – and one I approve of) you would think I would be getting responses left and right! Sadly however, this is not always the case. At first I went with the logical assumption – freak electrical storms shutting down the internet at the exact moment that I hit send, causing my messages to be lost in cyberspace forever. Unfortunately Comcast refused to authenticate my theory, which in turn pointed the fault squarely in my direction. Since I have already eliminated all other possible explanations, could it be that my attempts toward humor are deterring women? I admit people don’t always know what to make of my concept of humor, especially before they get to know me. In the interest of meeting new, pretty female types do I need to remove all aspects of my personality from the initial correspondence? “My name is Mike, I like baseball, Bud Light and lap dances?” My response rate would go through the roof, but at what cost! What if she liked that guy, and all of a sudden I was locked into a life of mind numbing baseball games, watery beer and constant lap dances! It’s almost too horrific to contemplate.

So what should I do? Do I let humor continue unchecked and hope for the best? Do I dial it back to get the girl and then let my personality seep out over time? Do I have to buy one of those giant foam fingers and start supporting the team? Is it time to start considering the whole mail order bride thing? So many unanswered questions.

PS – In retrospect this might not have been the best topic of conversation as I recently shared my blog address in one of those so called “humorous” emails. I’ll let it slide though, as it makes for an excellent example in the case of Women vs. Self-Deprecating Humor. Besides I haven’t written anything in a while and I don’t want to have to think of a new topic.

PPS – Incidentally do you think the lap dance line would work? Because, um I could put that in my profile if you think it would help.

I feel dirty, and I like it

2006-02-28T16:53:00.000-07:00

I’ve been noticing a dangerous trend recently – I’ve been thinking about climbing. Sure this sounds all sweet and innocent, what could be wrong with thinking about climbing? I’ll tell you what. I’ve been thinking about climbing at times when I should have been thinking about mountain biking. I’ll give you an example: this past Friday as I was driving to Aspen for the aforementioned hut trip, I found myself staring wistfully at the mountains around me. Did I think “wow, I bet there is some kick ass mountain biking around here”? No, not at all. Instead I said to myself “you know, that might be fun to climb”. It gets worse, much worse in fact. This past weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a while, and when I woke up to a beautiful Sunday morning I knew that the perfect cap to the weekend would be to get out and ride. I’m sitting at home going through my coffee ritual and thinking about my day, when out of the blue Temptation calls. In this particular instance Temptation came in the form of an invite from my friend RJ to go climbing in Boulder Canyon.

I’ll get back to my rant in a moment, but I’d like to take a second here to say Temptation, RJ is cool but the next time you decide to come my way I would REALLY appreciate it if you take the form of a young female type. Enough said, back to the story.

To continue, what did I do? I went climbing of course. Sure I could say I had never been climbing outdoors before and I was really looking forward to trying it. I could say that my friends are cool, and I wanted to hang out with them. I guess I could even try to write climbing off as the flavor of the month – god knows I’m fickle enough (um, just for the record if any of the young female types do read this I’m just kidding about the fickle thing. Really). The thing is when you get right down to it the reason really doesn’t matter – I’ve still been choosing climbing over the bike. I feel ashamed. I feel dirty. I kind of like it.

Ghosts 1 : Mike 0

2006-02-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

Damn that’s good coffee, but I digress. So this past Friday two friends and I headed west, bound for the snowy slopes of Aspen. Not to ski of course, that would have been crazy. No, we were going on a hut trip.

I have long dreamed of doing a hut to hut trip in Europe, and so when I heard about a system of huts in my new back yard I knew this was something I needed to try. When (3) spots opened up in a hut this past weekend, my friends and I jumped at the chance. We headed out toward Aspen relatively early, and by noon we were at the trailhead. Rumor had it that the hut was about 6 miles in, so without further ado we shouldered our packs and began to hike. It was a beautiful day, we could not have asked for better. The sun was shining brightly and the air was crisp but not too cold. Before long I found myself stripping layers and hiking without a coat – a far cry from the freezing cold winter temperatures I was expecting. After a relatively flat and well traveled mile we donned our snowshoes and began the trek in earnest. From this point on we were climbing – total elevation gain was 2,590 feet from trailhead to hut. The day progressed and so did we, and as the sun began to set we found ourselves high in the mountains by a frozen, snow-covered lake. This was wonderful news, as according to our map the hut was “just around the bend” overlooking the lake. Dreaming of dinner (and the multiple bottles of wine we packed in) we continue, sure that we will come across the hut at any second. The trail leads away from the lake, but it will curve back right? We continue. The sun is gone, time to break out the head lamps. We continue. The trail keeps climbing – higher and further from the lake with every step. Consult the map, and once again see the well marked hut positioned next to the lake. We’re not near the lake, we’re in the woods. Consider making a lake, but after much discussion decided “if you build it they will come” did not apply in this particular situation. We resolve to return to the (pre-existing) lake on the assumption that due to the fading light we must have missed seeing the cabin the first time around. Unfortunately this does not work – the cabin is not there. Stare at the map some more and mentally retrace our steps. Yup, the elevation gain proceeding the lake exactly matched the contour lines on the map, we are where we think we are. Probably. At this point our faith in the map is fading faster then an orangutan at a Billy Joel concert, but we eventually identify an offshoot trail that may lead to the hut. We retrace our steps and find the trail, but it’s obvious from the lack of footprints that this is not the well traveled trail that leads to the hut. It’s dark, our map is a filthy liar and when I listen to the wind I swear I can hear a voice chanting “kill kill kill kill”. We make the only sensible decision and decide to return to our car. With our Cliff Bar supply dwindling odds are good that we’ll be forced to resort to cannibalism at any second, so I take a spot at the back of the line where I can keep an eye on the others. From this point on things progress smoothly - the return trip was primarily downhill and we made good time back to the car. The hotel that we spent the night in was well appointed, and we had blueberry pancakes for breakfast.

I’d like to take a second to praise the two friends who joined me on this little adventure. In total we ended up backpacking for upwards of ten hours, and at no time did anyone lose hope or focus. That was ten solid hours of backpacking too – with the exception of one 15 minute dinner break on the way back to the car we really did not stop at all. Options were analyzed based on the information we had available to us, and decisions were made rationally. If I had it to do over again under the same exact circumstances I can honestly say that I would have done exactly the same thing. I would not hesitate to go into the woods with these people again.

Okay I know what you’re thinking – their story makes sense but something still just doesn’t add up. These people are experienced woodsmen, how could this happen? I agree. I mean I own wicking base layers and a windproof fleece. I carry my wine in a Nalgene bottle. I have two compasses and a shiny whistle. How could we possibly lose our way? Luckily I had a lot of time to think about this on the return trip to the car, and I now know what happened. None of us had actually met the others staying at the cabin that weekend, we just exchanged a few emails prior to the trip. Now I haven’t fully investigated this yet, but here’s my theory: The cabin burned down 10 years ago and was never rebuilt. Bill, Susie, Joe and Frita (names changed to protect the undead), the very people we had been emailing prior to the trip, all perished in the 1996 fire. That’s right, they were ghosts – spirits that had attached themselves to the remains of the cabin and were unable to leave this realm. When you think about it this is really the only explanation that makes sense. Now that I know the truth a part of me wishes that we had pushed on to find the remains of the cabin so that we could have done our part to help these lost spirits find peace. Alas it was not meant to be, but at least I am able to learn from the experience. The next time that I venture out into the wilderness I will make sure to include a small (lexan) vial of holy water in my pack. Because when you get right down to it, survival in the wilderness is really about being prepared.

Because shut up, that's why

2006-02-18T16:17:00.000-07:00

So I think I’m going to buy a new bike. I want a full suspension bike – something with 5” of travel that will tear up the rocky Colorado trails. I’m thinking of either the Turner 5-Spot or the Intense 5.5, both of which are for sale at Redstone Cyclery. I will have a full suspension bike – the sooner the better. The thing is, that isn’t the bike I’m talking about buying. I want a dirt jump/urban bike. I don’t dirt jump – hell I don’t jump at all. I’ve never been into urban. So why would I buy a DJ/urban bike that I will rarely if ever use? Because shut up, that’s why.

Right now the weather in Boulder is cold. Freezing cold. There is no way that I am going out to ride right now. Normally this wouldn’t be so bad, I have plenty of other things to do that keep me occupied. This time however, I made a mistake. When my Thursday evening night ride was cancelled (due to sub zero conditions and um, wolves. Lots of wolves.), I stayed in and watched The Collective – an awesome mountain biking film. Within 2 minutes of the start of the film I was anxious to ride, a feeling that stayed with me for the whole film. In addition to tons of amazing looking singletrack, this film featured a lot of jumping. Now I want to fly. Maybe not high and far, but I want to fly a little. Besides, a decent hard tail DJ bike is only about $600 – less if I can find a closeout 2005. That’s practically an impulse buy when compared to spending 3+k for a custom steel hard tail or a full suspension bike.

Pillow Fight?

2006-02-16T15:46:00.000-07:00

"Nearly 1,000 people drawn by Internet postings and word-of-mouth converged near San Francisco's Ferry Building on Tuesday night for a half-hour outdoor pillow fight. The underground event erupted at 6 p.m. in the center of Justin Herman Plaza with a mass rush of shrieking, laughing combatants -- many of whom arrived with pillows concealed in shopping bags, backpacks and the like." - San Francisco Chronicle

Now that's a cool idea - I wonder what it would take to plan something like that here in Colorado. It's too bad I let laziness rule my life, otherwise I might be tempted to give it a try. Still great concept - click on the title "Pillow Fight" above for a link to the article. I am your intellectual superior! Oh wait sorry - that was the last post.

I’m your intellectual superior!

2006-02-15T12:32:00.000-07:00

Books are good on many levels. Some have pretty pictures. Some have stories that keep us amused for hours – this can be especially useful on say the four hour flight from Denver to Dulles. Some books can be used to kill bugs, although I personally prefer a good shot of Clorox Tub & Tile cleaner for that purpose. Then there are the intellectual books. These are the ones that you put on your bookshelf to impress your friends, or read while conspicuously occupying the corner table in your favorite coffee shop. These are the books that shout “Hey look at me, I’m your intellectual superior!” Okay technically I suppose I am the one doing the shouting, but I swear the book make me do it.

What prompted this penetrating look into the literary world you ask? Simple – I recently rediscovered the library. In a (mostly unsuccessful) attempt to get more work done I have been looking for places to work outside of my home, and this search led me to the library. Although I have indeed completed small quantities of work as a result, the bigger success lies in the fact that I have once again begun to check out books and music. Don’t get me wrong, I am a voracious reader and at any given time I am in the middle of several books - I just haven't been to the library in a long time. I have to say that the variety and convenience (i.e. the fact that books are free) of the library is um, good.

Now to tie this whole book thing together in relation to my blog. One of the things that I gleamed from the few blogs that I read is that any good blog has book reviews. Not just any book either, no Hardy Boys Case Files here. No, a good blog book review should be the online equivalent of sitting in a coffee shop with your intellect held high for the world to see. Yeah. So the thing is I dislike writing about theory. Hate it actually, always have. I have absolutely no interest in delving into a characters psyche. What’s this – the story is actually a retelling of a Christian fable with a modern day twist? That’s great, love the way the author did that thing where he wrote stuff. I just don’t want to write about it myself. So here is my condensed intellectual book review. Life of Pi – interesting read, loved the ending. Shopgirl - interesting look at relationships and um, shopping. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance – this one makes my head hurt, which means by definition it has to be amazing.

I think that satisfy the book review requirements for a while. I hope it does at least because I have once again reverted to pulp fiction/"airport reads", and those aren’t nearly intellectual enough to post on a blog. After all someone might read this thing.

“Hey look at me, I’m your intellectual superior!”

Mountain Biking North Carolina

2006-01-28T10:24:00.000-07:00

Last night a friend of mine revealed that she might be moving to North Carolina. This would suck of course as I would miss her, but it sounds like it might be a good career/life move for her. Plus she is a very strong mountain biker, and NC has some incredible trails. Her talk of NC made me reminisce about my own mountain biking vacation to Pisgah, NC last year. We had an amazing time, and despite muddy trail conditions and a heck of a lot of rain we got in some of the best biking that I’ve ever experienced. Tight twisty single-track, climbs that keep on going and screaming descents that made all the climbing worthwhile. Plus we were smack dab in the Smokey Mountains – can you go wrong there? I love east coast riding! Just sitting here thinking about it has me wanting to get out and ride.

This year we’re planning to hit Fruita, CO for our big mountain bike trip. It’s a “short” drive for me (at least it’s better then the 13hr+ drive from MI to NC), so most likely the others will fly out to Denver and then we’ll head over from here. Since I’m close now I might try to hit it early to “preview” some of the trails so we know what we’re doing. Plus is there such thing as too much awesome mountain biking? I think not.

Girls Are Pretty

2006-01-27T11:05:00.000-07:00

As I write this I am a relative newcomer to Colorado, having finally fled Michigan in the fall of 2005. This move was about 3+ years in the making, and although I do not regret the time spent in MI I am glad that I was finally able to pull everything together. Michigan is a great place - lots of excellent mountain biking and some gorgeous outdoor scenery. Really great friends. Still I have few regrets leaving it behind, and am excited to enter into a new part of my life. Hand in hand with the move was my desire to form my own production management company – break the yoke of corporate America and all that (or just catapult myself to the top of the ladder and become corporate America). In essence I will be doing much of the same sort of thing that I have done in the past - with the notable exception that I am offering my services directly rather then being on the payroll of a production house. The theory is that this method will allow me to make more money, while having more free time. Downside of course is that when I'm not out on a show working I won't be bringing money in, but I'm pretending not to acknowledge that fact for now.

In an effort to meet new (pretty female) people, I made a recent foray into the exciting world of online dating. What could this possibly have to do with my new (lack of) employment? Actually they have a one incredibly similar trait - the waiting. I have yet to decide which is worse - waiting for a pretty female to respond to my inquiry, or waiting for a potential employer to call me with work. Initial thoughts of course point toward work, as without it life is much harder to maintain. On the other hand girls are pretty. This is no easy dilemma, while I'm sure the answer is out there both sides have compelling arguments.

Hävdar att Verket

2006-01-27T10:21:00.000-07:00

Right. So a new blog would seem to require a fancy starting entry - something to set the tone for the future. If I may be so bold I think I will steal a quote from Sun Tzu. I think you will find the following to be as true today as it was in the 2nd century BC.

"Advokater utan gränser hävdar att verket svarttlistat skickliga advokater och att dessa bara anlitas på flyktingarna initiativ. Organisationen är också kritisk till att Migrationsverket väljer de asylsökandes ombud och liknar situationen vid att en åklagare skulle välja den svarandes ombud. "

Welcome to my blog.