creepyfriendly

Green is for the money.

Gold is for the honey. I don't recall the last time I was this ill. Maybe three years ago? Days, years blend together until the next prodigious event in your life. Thank you. For removing the the bag of bricks from my chest that is. Two substantial rides within the past two days have forced the leftovers of whatever disease decided to infest my body out the hatch. Today I caught myself ginning mid ride as I effortlessly pushed for three hours. It was one of those days that confirms my sanity to ride all winter. Work pays off. After the thyroid year, I had that ride. It was last February when I burnt one out to Belleville and back. I started laughing mid ride it felt so gratifying. Almost emotional, I lost myself in the revolutions as my soul ventured outside of my body. Yeah, that was the feeling. I had that today. Work pays.

I mentioned in a past post that I formed another space for rambling. Well, the canti-cult engine is up and running but you won't see much action until September. The intent is to separate my mtb season from the cross scene. I feel as if my attitude diverges as soon as the leaves fall. I'd like to focus on some serious cross carnivals this season which will aid in giving back to the sponsors. Don't think of it as an ode to my supporters but rather a self admitted attitude adjustment.

Two steps back.

I slept for 24 hours straight. Typing has become a chore as the pavement becomes visible. Riding seems easier than walking yet choking takes precedent to breathing. Please remove the bag of bricks from my chest or is it my head? Did I mention I saw the pavement today? C'mon, every guy loves HED.

Tough love.

From time to time I like to step away from the routine. Abort the nine to five and drop the pedals to foil the day. I'll consider this day a team building experience with close friends from the routine. Already running late due to AOM's sluggish car which resulted in a jump I kept my fingers crossed as we headed South. I could feel my chances slip through my fingers as we hustled from the park and ride to the train. My anticipation to witness the judge in person diluted the smells of the train and underground maze that guided us to the entrance of NBC tower.

Arriving unscathed with minutes to spare we were quickly escorted to the holding room where we were treated to donut holes, cheap coffee, and Mathis re-runs on a pair of large screens. A scan of the room revealed that we were the minorities in size and attitude. The theme of the day proved to be large and in charge as our plump security guard signaled us to the front of the line. Arthur's "VIP" status proved to be in effect as he was on a first name basis with anyone we passed in the hall including the directors. We made our way through the maze of equipment, past the Springer set, and into the entrance of the court room. The room was smaller than it appears on television and the seating was less than comfortable after four cases but my position was prime. Front row behind the defendant's witness chair will provide me and Pete with valuable face time six weeks from now when the show airs.

The show itself started out a bit slow with a domestic case which resulted in a couple tears and a court order that a fast food employee could afford. Round two showed the "crack fiend" and "crack head" along with numerous other one liners that kept us conversing late into the night. Mid taping had a muscle bound witness escorted out by bailiff Doyle who claims to be a stand up comic. In between cases Doyle would single out audience members with jokes pertaining to the previous case. It was a riot and a bit uncomfortable at times. By mid show Arthur's VIP status shined when we were treated to rice krispie snacks on top of our superb seating. The day started to wind down as we headed over to gyro bar that the AOM frequents while in town. A great blue collar joint that wears its history on it's walls. Besides the 1984 Bears cheerleading poster my faves included a couple large paintings that adorned the Bears/Bulls logo on top of what appeared to be Sitting Bull and Standing Bear. Rumor has it that a "regular" painted these fabulous portrayals. Late night we wandered over to the next watering hole for a couple rounds of cricket and high life. Let's just say we're sticking to pushing pedals and the routine...

2.15

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Broken Base.

I have little emotional attachment to bits that pile up. I don't even have a mental inventory rather I memorize placement. In a month I'll randomly shuffle the bits and leave them until the next encounter. If a friend needs an odd bit to complete a build I'll most likely have it and know where to find it. When asked I'll reply, "I'm not sure let me check" as I know damn well where it is. The next day I'll present three of the same items in an assortment of colors as the friend looks at me in befuddlement. It's the same look they give customers when asked about the latest and greatest training tools. The look dissipates when they come to the realization that they have a decision to make. A friendly "broham" gesture is exchanged as both parties are aware of the ambidexterity in this situation.

The shop has been in full swing as we hustle the America's Dairyland team bikes into shape. It's a nice change of pace from the daily salt ridden two wheelers we've been turning out. Although, it's not all fun and games as incompatibilities rear their ugly head from time to time. Its times like these that confirm my arbitration for the single cog.

Leaving work on Saturday I battled some light accumulation as the temps dropped. I witnessed two cars in the ditch as I made my way through the west side flux. Aside from a friendly fender tap at a red light I traveled unscathed towards the Eastside via the capital city path. The light drifts were just enough to keep me gripped as I viewed the silhouettes of deer across an open field. The temps appeared to be dropping rapidly as the frost buildup was apparent in my glasses. I picked up the pace in hopes of warming the core before looping back into mother natures face. Later that night my resources confirmed a 40º drop in temps from the time I left to the time I got home. Time to hibernate.

If it wasn't for the creative factory I may loose all motivation. Projects o' plenty are being crossed off the list as I've added a couple logo pieces for a classy jersey thats nearing completion. I've been excited about a couple personal projects and created another space to ramble at which will take form within the coming months. Go gnar gnar!

Square takes circle.

I left after the snow stopped. A fresh battery suggested three hours of ride time as I set out trailing the nearest city plow. On an evening when Madison Metro shut down due to a reported twelve inches of white I was eager to get my drift on. I caught a fresh track heading South West on Nakoma before spotting the flashing reflection of a city truck. I diverted up Seminole in cautious pursuit not to let him know I was there. With a little help from my five ton friend the roads were mine. I continued South nearly touching Paoli before my core started to chill as I turned back to face the wind. The ride was quiet as I only witnessed a single car past cty PD who double flashed me. There were some questionable moments and I'm not necessarily proud of leaving the house given the conditions but in reality that's the way I'm living.

Plenty of motivation coming from shapes these days. I have a long night ahead of me... back to cranking out luscious jersey designs!

Spinning sect.

Amanda claims that I have poor posture. I don't disagree.

3-2-1.

I've never claimed to be a designer. I however hold a BFA in graphic design. I'd like to think I have an eye for aesthetic or at least I can distinguish the feeling of repose from dispirit. It doesn't take much for me to get up in the morning. It's rare that I'm not looking forward to something. I'm constantly exploring and am overwhelmed by time. There aren't enough minutes in the day, gobstoppers in the cupboard, or ink in the pen. I'm constantly moving unless I'm spent from a grueling ride. I'm a half-time designer. Yep, seasonal but I'm working on changing that. It's going to take a while to sort through old files but this is where you'll find them when the smoke clears. All right, back to falling off the wagon. Go ballsports!