Pedal Strike

TweetThere’s an odd painting hanging in my sister’s apartment. A man and woman are facing each other, playing poker. The man is fully dressed, the women completely nude. And yet, you can see the man’s hand, while the woman keeps hers [cleverly] out of sight from the viewer. Ah, men. So predictable [if you replace […]

TweetIt’s Tuesday, I know, but let me tell you about Sunday. Because there was ketchup involved, pre-5pm, and that is always a good thing. I think ketchup is a food in and of itself. It’s not a mere condiment; labeling it that strips it of its innate glory. It’s a pureed, red mess of vinegary […]

TweetOh, and study. That’s pretty much all I did yesterday. I fell into bed early on Saturday in anticipation for the Sunday morning ride, even though there was no route planned. And possibly no ride partner, Pete having texted me late Saturday night that he was up for the ride but was an “anarchist party.” […]

TweetWhenever my Mom tries to admonish me about not being [insert any adjective of your choosing, popular ones include: smart, stylish, intelligent, prepared] enough, I pull out a handy Japanese proverb: “A frog’s child is a frog, Mom, I’m only going to be as good as you and Dad.”* To which she will either sigh, […]

TweetA friend once asked me why I didn’t just switch my squealing, impossible to adjust cantilever brakes – the front refuses to STFU, so in retaliation, I refuse to use it – to center pull caliper ones. “It’s not like you’re ever going to race ‘cross,” he said. I stubbornly refused to switch them out […]