The Foggy Dew

A Christmas walk

2011-12-26T00:59:00.006-05:00

Here's the situation: You're done with Christmas dinner at your brothers but, because his nights end a bit earlier than yours do due to his kids (who were adorable, I should add), what do you do? Going out drinking on Christmas night could be interesting, but that just seems a bit ... not right.

Wait a minute, you've been taking pictures of your family all night, so you've got the camera in the car. And you know, I bet the usual nighttime crowds at the monuments will be pretty light on Christmas night.

So I went for a walk around the Lincoln end of the Mall. Which wasn't quite as deserted as I thought it would be, but it wasn't too, too bad. (All the pictures are clickable for a bigger version.)

First up, a look back across the Potomac toward Rosslyn. It looks pretty good at night.

The traditional view down the Mall. I shot a bunch more from the Lincoln but, apparently, I'll be seeing an optometrist come 2012. They were a touch out of focus. Of course it was dark...

There's a lot of different light going on inside the Lincoln Memorial. It took me a couple of tries to get it, well, if not right, than OK.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial was very peaceful and quiet. The only thing missing was snow in the air.

I noticed this reflection while I had the memorial all to myself. Probably the first time I've ever had that happen.
Merry Christmas...

Happy 236th Birthday!!

2011-11-10T12:55:00.005-05:00

Two hundred and thirty-sixy years ago, on Nov. 10, 1775, at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, Capt. Samuel Nichols, the first commandant of the Marine Corps, began recruiting the first two battalions of Continental Marines.

For those of us who've claimed the title of United States Marine, it's a special day. A day we reach out to our brothers and sisters we've served with, remember the years we spent together, how we were young once and say a little prayer for today's Marines - in whatever clime and place they may be.

One special tradition on the Marine Corps Birthday is the reading of General John A. Lejeune's 1921 birthday message. Even after 90 years it - especially the last paragraph - says exactly what it means to be a Marine.

Today is particularly special for me because not only was I a Marine, but so were both of my brothers. So, if you will excuse me, I've got a couple of phone calls to make.

Semper Fidelis.

So, it's been a while...

2011-11-07T10:26:00.007-05:00

I was a little taken aback when I looked at the date of the last post. It's been more than a month and half since I last posted and, well, I feel a bit bad about that. But not so bad that I'm going to beg forgiveness.

There are still many things I want to write about - elections anyone? - and just like a fine writer in my neighborhood, I'm just going to have to make the time.

How's this for a topic: Social media has made us less social. I say this not in the way everyone thinks - that Facebook and Twitter and such allow people to cut themselves off from actual human interaction - but in that it forces us to restrain ourselves and our opinions.

I succumbed to Facebook's Siren song a little more than a month ago, probably right about the time I should have been updating The Foggy Dew. I've reached out and reconnected with people I haven't seen or heard from in years and, truthfully, I got some friend requests I had to think long and hard about. What is the social media definition of a "friend"? Does this person sending me a "friend" request really count as a friend anymore? Why hasn't that person responded to my "friend" request? Oh, God, Why!

Except for a very small number of people I work with - who I actually count as real-world friends - I haven't sent, and received only one (from my boss, which I ignored) "friend" request from co-workers.Strangely, I do have two "friends" I've never actually met, but with whom I've corresponded electronically over the past year or so (both of you read this, so you know who you are). I find this almost old fashion. Long ago people would correspond with people they didn't know through these things called "letters" which they sent through the "mail." I'm speaking of people like Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson and John Adams. They had correspondence with a wide array of people, shared their thoughts, ideas and dreams, and built a network of friends that spanned the Atlantic.

The hard one's to decide about are the college and high school friends. Except for the two guys I count as my best friends, I've not accepted any of the three friend requests from people I knew in high school. If I'd wanted to stay in touch, I'da done it before now. College friends? Do I need to be Facebook friends with the girl who broke my heart, but who I (now) have nothing but fond memories about? (FYI, I did.) Also, my how some of them have changed.

The world of social media is a minefield my friends. A single misstep can have lasting consequences. I've seen it, you've seen it. A misconstrued comment or status update can cause drama that continues long after the real-world friendship gasps its last.

[On a completely unrelated note, I just realized the clock in my office was still on Daylight Savings Time and lunch is still an hour a way. Doh!]

To avoid those kinds of situations, I've adopted the "Primum non nocere" Facebook doctrine. First, do no harm. I will do my best to avoid mean snark (as opposed to the funny kind), ridicule and passive aggression in any status update or comment. The effort involved in being nasty is just not worth the calories burned. But, also, because I know that many of my posts are only important to me and someone, somewhere is annoyed to see them pop up in their feed. Yeah, sorry 'bout that.

Finally, for those of you who like irony, did you see the videos I posted on Facebook last night? If not, here's a link to my Flickr page where they're posted. My first attempts at time-lapse photography. Sorry for the jerkiness. They'll get better.

I'm proud to claim the title...

2011-09-15T15:29:00.015-04:00

…of United States Marine.

Sgt. Dakota Meyer, somehow just saying Semper Fi doesn’t seem like enough. How do you say thank you to a man credited with saving three dozen fellow soldiers (13 Americans and 23 Afghans)?

That there is the picture of a hard, hard man.

For those of you not familiar with Sergeant Meyer's story, he received the Medal of Honor from President Obama today, becoming the first living Marine to be so honored in almost four decades. He got it for willingly running back into a withering enemy fire not just once, not twice, but five times to rescue his fellow warriors during a battle in Afghanistan on Sept. 8, 2009. The last time he went back, he went to recover the bodies of three Marines and a Navy Corpsman who’d been killed in the ambush.

That is what being a Marine is.

If you want to read more about Sergeant Meyer, go here.

With a humility that's difficult for any Marine to summon, but is easy today, "Thank you."

Here's health to you and to our Corps
Which we are proud to serve;
In many a strife we've fought for life
And never lost our nerve;
If the Army and the Navy
Ever look on Heaven’s scenes;
They will find the streets are guarded
By The United States Marines.

– Marines’ Hymn, Third Verse

9/11 Memorial at night

2011-09-11T15:31:00.016-04:00

Living as close as I used to to the Pentagon, I thought it was strange I'd never been to the 9/11 Memorial. I'd ridden past it countless times, but I'd never stopped to take it in. So Friday night I changed that.

It's pretty moving.

One hundred and eighty-four benches and reflecting pools dedicated to the men, women and children who died there. It's an amazingly peaceful place considering what happened.

The memorial is filled with symbols representing those lives. The wall surrounding it begins at 3 inches eventually rising to a height of 71 inches, the ages of the youngest and oldest people to die: Dana Falkenberg, 3, and John Yamnicky, Sr., 71. The benches are arranged so if you're reading the name of someone who was aboard Flight 77 you look up into the sky, and if they were in the Pentagon, you look at the building's south facade.

As I said, it is a powerful place. Here, let me show you.

As you walk in, the first bench you come to is dedicated to Dana Falkenberg, age 3, who was aboard Flight 77. Because they're arranged by age, Dana's bench sits by itself.

As you move deeper into the memorial, the benches become more numerous.

As the 10th anniversary approached, many had small tokens placed on them.

One thing about the memorial, the 184 reflecting pools - combined with the week of rain beforehand - made for some condensation on my lens. I kept clearing it off but, in the case of this picture, it made for an interesting effect. I particularly like this shot.

Another example of the moisture on my lens working with the light to create an otherworldly effect.

Looking back across the memorial toward Pentagon City.

This one took me a couple of tries to get right. Trying to focus on something a good quarter-mile away, in the dark, isn't the easiest thing in the world.

For some more pictures, check out my Flickr page. The link's at the right.

It's been a week of remembrance in D.C., New York, across the country and around the world. I was in Texas getting ready to go to work covering the Army on one of the biggest bases in the country. Little did I know how interesting, exciting and, yes, tragic that job would become.

How do you remember that day 10 years ago?

Ummmm, salty

2011-09-08T13:15:00.005-04:00

According to Time: "Today Ben & Jerry's announced their newest ice cream flavor—which might not immediately sound appealing. Schweddy Balls, an homage to Saturday Night Live, is vanilla ice cream with a hint of rum and a huge scoop of cheekiness."

Yep, Schweddy Balls...balls of malt and rum covered in fudge.

I can't say it any better than the folks at Time already have.

Definitely not like tears in the rain…

2011-09-07T10:15:00.012-04:00

As anyone who’s ever read this little corner of the interwebs knows, I’m a sucker for just about anything that has to do with human spaceflight. The video below comes to us courtesy of NASA’s Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, and shows some interesting pictures of the moon’s surface. Specifically three of the Apollo landing sites – take that moon landing conspiracy theorists!

According to NASA’s website, LRO carries six instruments, one of them being the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter Camera. This camera, “…[R]etrieves high resolution black and white images of the lunar surface, capturing images of the lunar poles with resolutions down to 1 meter, and imaging the lunar surface in color and ultraviolet. These images provide knowledge of polar illumination conditions, identify potential resources & hazards, and enable safe landing site selection.”

Just another way of saying some pretty cool pictures. Like this one, of the sunrise over Tycho.

With that thought in mind, let’s go to the video. These shots are of the Apollo 12, Ocean of Storms (one of my favorite place names on the moon), Apollo 14, Fra Mauro, and Apollo 17, Taurus-Littrow, landing sites.

For a non-chopped off version of the video, go here.

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I know why it is, no wind or weather, but isn’t it amazing that 42-plus years on you can still see the tracks the astronauts left in the regolith?

Stuck the landing…finally

2011-08-31T16:34:00.004-04:00

Back in March I set goal, a goal I came tantalizingly close to during both June and July only to watch it slip through my fingers like quicksilver. Failure almost reared its head again in August, but I knuckled down and last night, somewhere across from Terminal B at National on the Potomac Trail, the trip odometer on my handlebars rolled to 25.00 miles.

Doesn’t seem like much, but the 25th mile of the ride was my 200th in August (ftr – the ride ended up being 27.25 miles). When I set the goal, I had no idea how hard 200 miles in a month would be. Actually, looking at my ride-tracking app stats, there was a period between mid-June and mid-August where I’d done 400 miles in 60 days, but it wasn’t quite the same.

It was like the Tiger-slam of goal fulfillment.

But August was different…and a bit the same. I kicked ass the first half of the month riding a total of 136 miles on the 4th, 9th, 11th, 13th and 16th. Then I took a week off because of weather, alcohol and just not giving a shit and had to get 64 miles in during the last eight days. For some 64 miles isn't a big deal. For me it's three medium rides or two long rides. Or one really, long ride and a couple of laps around Haynes Point.

I did it, but let me tell you it as a Herculean task making myself hit the road last night. Once I got out there I was fine, it was the gettin’ that was tough. You wouldn’t think it’s hard to ride eight times in 31 days, but it is. I think my biggest stumbling block is that I most often ride alone. Most of the people I know who ride, ride a lot faster and longer than I do. When I ride with them it kicks my ass and I don't have fun. When I ride along I ride at my own pace (about 16-17 mph), but I get bored after about 90 minutes.

I don’t know if – OK, who am I kidding – I’m pretty sure I won’t be hitting the 200-mile barrier in September. What I think I’d like to do is get to 1,500 for the year (I’m at 973 right now), which I think is pretty doable averaging about 150 miles a month till the end of the year.

Who knows, now that it’s cooled down a bit, might be able to go even longer. Yeah, no.

Follow in my wake…

2011-08-28T22:07:00.004-04:00

As I went to bed Saturday night/Sunday morning (about 1:30 a.m.) the rain from Irene was still coming down. Despite my concerns about losing power, it was my house’s Achilles heel – no power, no power to the sump pumps in my basement – there was one thought rolling through my head.

“Is this all there is?”

I’ve been through a hurricane or two (or 13). The names of some of the storms are familiar to anyone living in hurricane territory: Hugo, Fran, Floyd, Katrina and Rita. These are the big ones. Storms that made the news for days – or weeks or months or years – on end.

Anyway, in my experience Irene was a little storm. According to the news, the first hurricane to hit the U.S. in three years. Probably why the news went way nutso as it arrived. Could also be because Irene aimed herself at the most densely populated part of the country – more than 50 million people live in Irene’s path. And, except for the folks in North Carolina – go Tar Heels! (sorry, had to) – none of them have any idea what the hell to do when a hurricane comes knockin’.

The only experience they have with hurricane’s is what they’ve seen on the news, and that news always focuses on the destruction of the historic storms: Hugo, Andrew, Gloria, Ivan, Katrina. Sadly, they never seem to mention Rita, one of the five most powerful storms to ever hit the U.S.

So a little overreaction is expected. In fact, in my opinion, it’s not a bad thing. Better safe than sorry when there’s a sixth of the country’s population in the path of a tropical cyclone, I say.

Yeah, CNN, MSNBC, Fox, the Weather Channel, the WaPo and all the local channels went way over the top, but let me tell you the one thing that’s really annoying me and the whole point of this post.

I was reading through the reader comments on the WaPo and, it seems, the whole situation is the President’s fault. Be it the overreaction (true) or the lack of preparedness (false, never seen a storm better prepared for) or how it’s going to be used for political gain (like this has never happened) or how it caused an increase in the July jobless rate (what the fuck?).

How is it that we’ve become so divided as a country? I’m really tired of this crap. Democrats demonizing Republicans and Tea Partiers; Tea Partiers and the GOP blaming all the ills facing us today on the Democrats and the president. The problems we face today are a direct result of the base animosity among us.

I know this isn’t a blinding revelation.

One thing I learned from all the hurricanes I’ve lived through and covered (especially in Texas after Rita): Once the storm’s passed it doesn’t matter what color your skin is or what ticket you punch on election day, if you don’t work together it takes 10 times longer to clean up, rebuild and get back to the business of life.

We’re facing serious problems here in the United States today and if we don’t work together it’ll be a miracle to find the light at the end of the tunnel. People need to shut their mouths, roll up their sleeves and reach out a hand to their neighbor. Calling someone in another political party stupid or un-American or a traitor is exactly that – stupid and un-American.

I don’t know how we can sway people to this point of view, I think the hatred is too deep-seated. But I think if those of us of good intentions try, we can maybe drown out the chatter.

“The Democrats are the party that says government will make you smarter, taller, richer, and remove the crabgrass on your lawn. The Republicans are the party that says government doesn't work and then they get elected and prove it” – P.J. O’Rourke.

Note: I started this blog back in the closing days of the last presidential election – relatively speaking – and there was lots and lots to write about. I’ve been remiss of late and not posted anywhere near as much as I want. More times than I can count in the last couple of months I’ve said, “That’ll make a great post,” and done nothing about it. Hell, it took a hurricane for me to write something. I’m thinking that with the election getting into full swing – god help up, the election is 14 months away – I won’t be lacking in subject matter.

Things that make you go WTF?!?!?...

2011-07-07T15:10:00.015-04:00

As I was driving home from work yesterday along the tree-lined streets of my hood, this car in front of me caught my eye.

While a Prius is not by any means a terribly unusual sight in Alexandria - Hell, there's three or four on my block alone - this one was different. Oh so very, very different.

What? You can't see it in this picture? Let me blow it up for you...(it's clickable if you want a really good view)

Do you see what I see? Yeah, that's a Prius with a Palin bumper sticker. Isn't that like matter and anti-matter? Good and evil? Intelligence and American Idol? Chocolate and peanut butter? (Oh, wait, strike that last one, I got carried away).

Shouldn't this combination cause some kind of massive conflagration as one obliterates the other? A microscopic supernova (femtonova??) in Del Ray?

Seriously? As crunchy as owning a hybrid is, and as smug and pretentious as their owners can be (some, not all), it's still a good choice for a car when it comes to lowering the carbon footprint. But then you go and ruin all that good karma by supporting a deluded, vacuous demagogue like Sarah Palin?

I weep for the future.

Look! Up in the sky...

2011-07-05T09:28:00.014-04:00

Hope everyone's recovering from America's big birthday party yesterday. Two hundred and thirty-five years old and we barely look a day over 200. Especially when you look at some of the roads around here.

Kidding.

Anyway, instead of battling the traffic or the barbarian hoards on Metro yesterday, I decided to risk Mother Nature's fickle mood and ride my bike downtown for the firework on the Mall. Although I didn't go to the Mall, I'm sure it would have worked just as well. All told, about an hour of commuting (30 minutes up and 30 or so back).

Except for the idiots around Gravely Point who thought it was a great idea to let their little kids play on the path, it was relatively painless. I'm thinking the bike is the way to go for all things outdoors, in the evenings in D.C. (basically, Screen on the Green or jazz in the sculpture garden).

And, for the moment you've all been waiting for, the pictures. Unlike previous years when I shot from the Mall, this year I went to the other side of the display and made my pictures from the Virginia side of the Potomac down by the Lincoln Memorial. I have to say, the crowds were a lot less and you're a lot, a lot, closer to the fireworks. You can feel them explode and don't have to worry about the sweaty stranger next to you getting in your space. For those who are wondering about the technical aspects of the pictures, they were all shot at 100 ISO equivalent, an f/8 apeture and, generally speaking, 1.6 second shutter speed.

Enjoy.

This picture shows one of the main reasons I decided to forgo the Mall - you get very few reflections off a mass of sweaty humanity.

I really, really liked these ground-bursting shells. Very cool effect.

More ground-bursts.

And, finally, I got a whole bunch of shots where this guy in the kayak slowly drifted through the frame. I kinda like it.

If you want more from the fireworks display, they're posted on my Flickr page.

The Mobeus Family Tree

2011-06-30T09:05:00.007-04:00

I found this poem in a clan newsletter. If I might make a suggestion, it sounds best if you hear it in your head spoken in an Irish accent.
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I am my own grandpa!

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Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three,
I got married to a widow who was pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her, and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother, for she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matters worse, although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad and so became my Uncle,
Though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown-up daughter who, of course, was my step-mother.
Father's wife then had a son, who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson, for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too.
If my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it, it simply drives me wild.
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw.
As the husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.

As I'm off tomorrow, stretching a long weekend even longer, I'd like to wish y'all a Happy 235th Birthday. Enjoy the burgers and brats and a Happy Fourth of July to everyone!

Oh, there's just one other thing...

2011-06-24T14:16:00.007-04:00

Do you hear that, Fezzik? That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when the six-fingered man killed my father. The Man in Black makes it now.
- Inigo Montoya

As anyone who’s ever wandered by here knows I’m a total sucker for a good Princess Bride quote or reference. And while I’m not making the sound of ultimate suffering, there’s a bit of … melancholy to this post.

Peter Fault, known best as “Grandpa” in the Princess Bride to anyone born after, oh, 1975, and before that as Lt. Columbo, died today at age 83.

Grandpa in the Princess Bride seemed like the kind of grandfather we all might want. He’d come to visit us when we were sick and bring us presents we didn’t know we want.

The Grandson: A book?

Grandpa: That's right. When I was your age, television was called books. And this is a special book. It was the book my father used to read to me when I was sick, and I used to read it to your father. And today I'm gonna read it to you.

The Grandson: Has it got any sports in it?

Grandpa: Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles...

The Grandson: Doesn't sound too bad. I'll try to stay awake.

Grandpa: Oh, well, thank you very much, very nice of you. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.

I think I know what may be on my playlist sometime this weekend…

The Grandson: Grandpa, maybe you could come over and read it again to me tomorrow.

Grandpa: As you wish.

Things that make you go "Hmmm"

2011-06-21T09:21:00.005-04:00

I was headed downtown on Saturday evening to enjoy the High Life with some friends at 18th Amendment. Since the city has become somewhat (OK, totally) Draconian in its parking regulations and enforcement duirng the past year, I chose Metro. (Seriously, who enforces parking meters until 10 p.m. on a Saturday? Yeah, D.C., that's who.)

It seems Metro must have recently gotten some of those new Matter Displacement Trains allowing them to speed up their operations by having two trains on the platform at the same time. I can only assume this because this is what the info board read at Braddock Road...

As they say on Mythbusters, "Well, there's your problem..."

Lost and found

2011-06-15T11:05:00.004-04:00

Some good news here. Someone found my lost saddle bag and phone on Sunday and, apparently, I must have lost it a lot earlier in my ride than I thought.

You see, I know this because whoever found my phone began trying to find me at 9:38 a.m. when they made their first call. They obviously didn’t find me since a) I didn’t have my phone, b) I was riding until almost noon and c) most important, I actually wasn’t in El Salvador where they were tyring to reach me. I was in Bethesda. An easy mistake, people make it all the time.

I understand this confusion. You find something that obviously fell off a bike, c’mon, the spare inner tube, multi-tool and inflator are a dead giveaway, but the phone, the phone could throw anyone for a loop. “One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn’t belong.” And in the confusion it’s totally understandable someone could confuse Alexandria and El Salvador - they both have an "L" as the second letter, and "A" near the middle and a "D" near the end. (There was also $30 in emergency Gatorade/Snickers cash in there, but I consider this a finder’s fee for the effort to find me.)

And they tried hard to find me for the next five and a half hours until I was rude enough to brick the phone. So, to the person I inadvertently cut off in the middle of your valiant attempt to locate me and get my phone back to me, I apologize.

This Good Samaritan’s efforts to find me in El Salvador were revealed to me yesterday when my shiny new iPhone beeped with a text from AT&T telling me, “You have exceeded $200 in voice usage charges. Manage your account @ att.com to find the plan that’s right for you and minimize a costly bill.”

Don’t get me wrong, I am deeply grateful for the effort someone went to find me. I don’t know if I’d have spent five and a half hours of my Sunday accidentally calling another country trying to find someone so I could return their 5-year-old Motorola Razr, but it’s the thought that counts. Right?

Now here are some words you’ve probably not heard before:

I <3 AT&T

Yes folks, it’s true. Not only did an actually human (a very nice lady whose name, sadly, I didn’t get) answer my call on the second ring, she spent the next 15 minutes chatting with me as I promised her this was all a misunderstanding and that while I was glad someone was trying to find me, I really wasn’t in El Salvador. She understood completely and within minutes the more than $200 in charges between 9:38 a.m. and 3:16 p.m. were removed from my bill.

I’ll say it again – I <3 AT&T! They rock and they’ve earned a customer for a very long time.

One final thought. To anyone who says this is a victimless crime, I call bullshit. There was a victim here, multiple victims in fact – AT&T and everyone else who pays higher fees because a corporation writes off these losses. Theft like this is no different than someone trying to steal from Wal-Mart or Target.

And it’s only because AT&T was kind and understanding enough to write off more than $200 in charges for services stolen from me, that I’m not digging myself out of a hole.

So, to AT&T, thank you very much.

And to the douchbag asshole who used my phone to steal from me: Fuck You!

Round and round...and round

2011-06-14T11:48:00.016-04:00

Wheels keep on turning and turning and turning
and nothings disturbing the way they go around.
Wheels keep on turning and turning and turning
and nothings disturbing the way it goes around.
-The Wheel by Edie Brickell and New Bohemians

Who here doesn’t know there personal record for solo miles driven in a single day? Be it either a midnight-to-midnight period or a continuous 24-hour period. Hmmm? (And yes, I know the song lyrics above have nothing to do with driving, more the wheel of life, but we’ll get to that).

I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours…

My personal best came on a drive from Pittsburgh to Beaumont, Texas. As insane as I may seem sometimes, I knew I couldn’t make that in one hop. But I did make it in one really long hop and another that was considerably shorter. The first day, the record day if you will, started around 6 a.m. north of Pittsburgh and ended 17 hours later at 10 p.m. just south of Jackson, Miss.

“Wait, 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. is only 16 hours, so you’re lying already!”

Under normal circumstances I might be stretching the truth a bit, but I'm not. In this case I had the benefit of crossing from the Eastern to Central time zone, thereby gaining an extra hour of driving time.

In the end, when I dragged my ass into a motel in Jackson, I looked at my trip odometer and it read “10.” As in 1,010 miles. I’d rolled it in a day.

You get past 900 and something in your head is like, “No way I’m not getting to a thousand.”

That’s kinda how I felt this past weekend. I had an odometer at 973 miles and there was no way the weekend was ending without hitting a thousand. About halfway down Ohio Drive SW, 27 miles into a 33 mile ride, and at a 17 or so mile per hour pace, the odometer on my bike rolled from 999.9 to 1,000.0.

It was a very moving moment for all involved. Cymbals crashed, fireworks exploded and the band played on.

Or that could have just been the sounds of traffic around me. I like my way better.

Overall, it took me a little more than a year to reach this mark. Truth be told, I probably hit a thousand miles sometime in May, but since I got my bike in April 2010, but didn’t get my computer until the end of May, there are some lost miles. Probably about 100.

Now I know, from a hardcore cyclist point of view, 1,000 miles in a 13 months is not a whole lot. My brother, who bought a new bike about a week before me last year, put 2,000 miles on it before 2010 turned to 2011. But 635 of those came during an eight-day ride from San Francisco to San Diego in October. Still, that kicks a lot of ass in my opinion.

But I’m pretty happy with my accomplishment and, while I don’t think I’ll roll to 2k this year, I’m pretty sure I’ll actually put at least a thousand on the bike before the year ends…unless I keep up my current pace which would see me rolling from 9s to 0s sometime in October.

We’ll see.

One sour note to my triumphal ride: If someone happens to find a small saddle bag with a spare innertube, tire spoons and inflator (not to mention a Motorola Razor) on the Capital Crescent trail between G-town and Bethesda, drop me a line, I’d like the tire-changing gear back. I already bricked the phone and replaced it with an iPhone, so that’s really all good. More on my new toy in the future.

And, finally, we’ll end this 1,000-mile post with some pictures of other people riding bikes. These are from last weekend’s Clarendon Cup. The race was 100k on a 1k circuit in Clarendon. These guys did 60 miles in about two hours twisting and turning their way through the streets of Arlington.

For more pics of the race, go to my Flickr stream (or click the cool box to the right).

On your marks...get set...GO!

This is like, two laps in and these two guys already put some distance on the field.

Yes, I laid down on the street to get this picture.

I tried to crop this picture and the next two as close as possible to the same ratio since they all took place in about six-tenths of a second. Click...
.

...Click...

...Click.

If you want to take a 100-degree turn at 30 mph, this is how you and your friends have to do it.

This was a snap shot. I was sitting and enjoying a beer at the Wood Grill and I looked across the street and saw this, I assume, father and son. I yanked the camera out of the bag and let the motor drive run as the peloton sped by.

Imagine, if you will, being in a pack of cyclists going 30+ mph around a 100-degree turn. Allatonce. It might be enough to make you want to slam on

Stay on target.
.

Not a completely bad motto to live by.

A picture's worth...

2011-06-07T08:10:00.010-04:00

Everyone ready for the crushing heat that's coming our way? The number I heard for today contained a 9 and a 3, and for tomorrow the 3 is replaced by a 7. Get ready to sweat D.C.

Changing topics, I came across a couple of pictures in the last day or so I feel like sharing.

First, this amazing view of Saturn taken by the Cassini space probe in September 2006:

Here's part of the description of the photo from NASA (for more, go here):

"This marvelous panoramic view was created by combining a total of 165 images taken by the Cassini wide-angle camera over nearly three hours on Sept. 15, 2006. The full mosaic consists of three rows of nine wide-angle camera footprints; only a portion of the full mosaic is shown here. Color in the view was created by digitally compositing ultraviolet, infrared and clear filter images and was then adjusted to resemble natural color.

"During this period of observation Cassini detected two new faint rings: one coincident with the shared orbit of the moons Janus and Epimetheus, and another coincident with Pallene's orbit."

Now, anyone who's wasted a moment or two reading The Foggy Dew in the past knows I'm an unashamed proponent of man's exploration of space. There is much to be learned on the other side of our atmosphere and I believe mankind's destiny is in space.

But there is another reason and (sadly) I'm going to use a bit of a quote from a TV show (From the Earth to the Moon) to express it properly. We need to continue into space for the same reason Apollo 15 commander Dave Scott chose (in the show) to land at Hadley rille, "Grandeur. And I believe there's something to be said for... exploring beautiful places... It's good for the spirit."

Who among us wouldn't want to watch in awe as Saturn eclipsed the sun?

OK, now onto the funny part. Got this picture from a coworker. Don't know if it's true or not, but I get the feeling it is.

See, the way I always heard the way to tell them apart was to kick them in the balls and then run and climb a tree. If the bear climbs the tree and eats you, it's a black bear. If it pushes the tree over and eats you, it's a grizzly.

Happy Tuesday. Try to stay cool.

Garden of Stone

2011-05-30T22:45:00.013-04:00

I'm often amazed by what I find when I look at the world through the lens of my camera. I took a walk today, braving what was an exceedingly hot Memorial Day here in the D.C. area. All along I was wishing CamelBak made a camera bag so I might carry both my camera and a supply of cool water.

But that's not the point of this post. Opening your eyes is.

My walk took me to Arlington National Cemetery. I've been there before, often when it snowed and around Christmas, but I think this was the first time I went on Memorial Day.

Coming into the cemetery there are memorials to many of the U.S. military's units. In front of the memorial for the 101st Airborne Division, there were probably 20 or so floral arrangements, but this one caught my eye ...
.Maj. Richard Winters, who the world came to know through the book and mini-series Band of Brothers, died earlier this year on Jan. 2. He was 92 years old. In the mini-series, Winters quoted a fellow soldier, saying, "I cherish the memories of a question my grandson asked me the other day when he said, 'Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?' Grandpa said 'No… but I served in a company of heroes.' "

Indeed he did.

As I entered Arlington I bent around to the right. If you've never been to Arlington, the headstones are, for the most part, as uniform as anything you'll ever see. Aligned in staggered ranks, the Marines, soldiers, sailors, airmen and Coast Guardsmen are in formation as if they were awaiting inspection.

There are few things that make one of the stones stand out, but the pile of rocks atop the one below drew my attention. I saw it from behind and I wondered who it might be that would draw such attention. As soon as I read the name, it was easy to understand the respect he is paid ...

Medgar Evers served in the Army in France during World War II and was buried with full military honors after he was murdered, shot down in his driveway for believing that all men are indeed created equal.

My original intent was to try to get the quintessential Arlington picture - endless rows of white marble stones and fluttering flags. I don't think I quite succeeded, but that was mainly because I was in the more rolling part of the cemetery. This picture, however, came the closest ...

And, finally, the words on this balloon pretty much say it all ...

When I got home and got a closer look at this picture I saw that HMC John David Wilson was a Navy chief hospitalman serving with the Fleet Marine Force. He was a corpsman serving with the Marines. Navy corpsmen hold a special place in Marines' hearts because we know that no matter what, no matter how badly we're hit and how bad the enemy fire is, a corpsman will crawl through the very gates of Hell to pull a wounded Marine to safety.

Thanks to you and all your brothers and sisters for keeping us safe and free. Semper fi Chief.

I got my eye on you

2011-05-27T08:23:00.006-04:00

Looks like we're going to have some decent weather here in the D.C. area for the Memorial Day weekend. It's been a long haul since our last three-day weekend (Presidents' Day) so I'd say this is some well deserved time off.

While you're out grilling and barbecuing and enjoying the start of summer with your friends, all I ask is that you take a moment to remember the reason for the season. For anyone who's a little foggy (hehehe) on the concept, Memorial Day is the day we here in the U.S. are supposed to honor our Marines, sailors, soldiers, airmen and Coast Guardsmen who've died in service to our country.

Hope everyone has a great weekend and, to kick it off I leave you with some humor and some trivia. Enjoy!

The 6th grade science teacher, Mrs. Parks, asked her class, "Which human body part increases to ten times its size when stimulated?"

No one answered until little Mary stood up and said, "You should not be asking sixth-graders a question like that! I'm going to tell my parents, and they will go and tell the principal, who will then fire you!"

Mrs. Parks ignored her and asked the question again, "Which body part increases to 10 times its size when stimulated?"

Little Mary's mouth fell open. Then she said to those around her, "Boy, is she going to get in big trouble!"

The teacher continued to ignore her and said to the class, “Anybody?"

Finally, Billy stood up, looked around nervously, and said, "The body part that increases 10 times its size when stimulated is the pupil of the eye."

Mrs. Parks said, "Very good, Billy," then turned to Mary and continued. "As for you, young lady, I have three things to say:

"One, you have a dirty mind."

"Two, you didn't read your homework."

"And three, one day you are going to be "very, very disappointed."

Yes, yes she will.

And now, some trivia questions:

Can anyone name for me the two sets of homophones in the English language that have no common letters?

And, finally, can you name for me the only word that goes from verb to noun by capitalizing one letter?

Bravo Zulu*

2011-05-02T08:20:00.008-04:00

For some reason, a song keeps running through my head this morning ...

America...

America...

America, FUCK YEAH!
Coming again, to save the mother fucking day yeah,
America, FUCK YEAH!
Freedom is the only way yeah,
Terrorist your game is through cause now you have to answer too,
America, FUCK YEAH!
So lick my butt, and suck on my balls,
America, FUCK YEAH!
What you going to do when we come for you now,
it’s the dream that we all share; it’s the hope for tomorrow

FUCK YEAH!

McDonalds, FUCK YEAH!
Wal-Mart, FUCK YEAH!
The Gap, FUCK YEAH!
Baseball, FUCK YEAH!
NFL, FUCK, YEAH!
Rock and roll, FUCK YEAH!
The Internet, FUCK YEAH!
Slavery, FUCK YEAH!

FUCK YEAH!

Starbucks, FUCK YEAH!
Disney world, FUCK YEAH!
Porno, FUCK YEAH!
Valium, FUCK YEAH!
Reeboks, FUCK YEAH!
Fake Tits, FUCK YEAH!
Sushi, FUCK YEAH!
Taco Bell, FUCK YEAH!
Rodeos, FUCK YEAH!
Bed bath and beyond (Fuck yeah, Fuck yeah)

Liberty, FUCK YEAH!
White Slips, FUCK YEAH!
The Alamo, FUCK YEAH!
Band-aids, FUCK YEAH!
Las Vegas, FUCK YEAH!
Christmas, FUCK YEAH!
Immigrants, FUCK YEAH!
Popeye, FUCK YEAH!
Democrats, FUCK YEAH!
Republicans (republicans)
(fuck yeah, fuck yeah)
Sportsmanship
Books

Here’s to the SeALs and the CIA and everyone else who made yesterday's events possible. Although, as a friend of mine who’s involved in the world of black ops just texted me, “Unfortunately, don’t think this makes a tactical difference.”

Sadly, he’s probably correct.

But, on the brighter side, we now have one less asshole to kill.

*Since it was reported the folks involved were Navy SeALs who did the take-down, I thought I'd go with the traditional naval congratulations this morning. "B" and "Z" were the signal flags hoisted by ships to signal "well done."

Lent may be over, but I’m giving something new up…

2011-04-28T22:53:00.011-04:00

Hmmm, been a while since I’ve been around here. Suffice it to say, I’ve been a bit busy the past month or so. You know, the normal things: planning a 500th anniversary, a murder, a frame-up … oh, wait, I’ve already used that one. A couple of times. So sue me for being unoriginal. (Whoop! Whoop! Foreshadowing alert! Foreshadowing alert! Whoop! Whoop!)

OK, so, new house eats up a good chunk of time – it’s been a little more than half an hour (two months) and things are still getting arranged and rearranged. I’ve been riding my bike more – I set a goal of 200 miles in April. Didn’t reach it, but I did pretty well (almost 150). And then there’s work. Lots and lots of work.

So there’re my reasons for not being around here as much as I’d like. That doesn’t mean I don’t have things to say. Not by a long shot. For instance, I’ve decided to give up pizza. OK, not all pizza, just one type in particular.

Seriously, do you think I could give this up?

Pictures courtesy of Titania

This was my lovely dinner (the one with the piece missing is mine. I couldn’t wait for the picture, I’d had a long ride that day and was starving) last Sunday at Red Rocks in Columbia Heights. Give this up? All this meaty, saucy, cheesy goodness? Not a chance of that in this reality or any other you could imagine in the deepest, darkest recesses of your minds.

Special bonus pic: These were the appetizers, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus (near) and bruschetta drizzled with olive oil with sliced prosciutto and salami. Ummm, sliced meat.

What I am giving up is Papa John’s pizza (please try not to judge me). It’s nothing close to Red Rocks, but it’s generally serviceable and good when you’re in a pinch and want to order some delivery. Most of the time when I order a pizza it all comes down to whichever one of the big three has the best special. In the future, that line up will not include Papa John’s.

Why is this you ask? Well today – and probably in the past to tell you the truth – I got one of PJ’s emails telling me about its special for Thursday and Friday. This special celebrates the start of the NFL draft. And, while I’m not too pleased with the NFL – both owners and players – that’s now what’s causing my ire.

It was the subject line of the ad: “From the Official Pizza of the Washington R******s – Papa John’s!”

Yep, because PJ’s reminded me it’s the “Official Pizza of the Washington R******s” I shall not patronize it’s products in the future.

Chief among the reasons for this decision, no pun intended – OK, maybe a little pun – is the name. I have friends who have native American blood in their veins who are offended by the team’s name, so who am I to argue? It is an offensive name and anyone who denies this – I’m looking at you Mr. S####r* – is lying to themselves and the world.

The second reason is because the team, plain and simple, sucks. Inept play has become a hallmark of D.C.’s beloved R******s. This is a direct result of the poor management of the above named Mr. S####r. Team owners, like children, should be seen and not heard.

Finally, and this the big reason for boycott of PJ’s is this lawsuit: Daniel M. Snyder v. Creative Loafing Inc., CL Washington, Inc. (d/b/a Washington City Paper), and Dave McKenna

As a former journalist, I take a dim view of anyone who tries to silence a reporter or newspaper through the threat of legal action. In case you haven’t heard, Mr. S####r is suing The City Paper and columnist Dave McKenna for the article "The Cranky R******s Fan’s Guide to Dan S####r: From A to Z (for Zorn), an encyclopedia of the owner's many failings."

Douche.

I read the article and, while I can understand why Mr. S####r might be a little annoyed by the it, it looked to me like McKenna sourced all of his allegations pretty well. The problem with suing someone for libel is that, generally speaking, the truth is an absolute defense. As I was taught in J-school, it doesn’t matter how much someone doesn't like something, as long as it’s true, you can’t sue. (In honor of the late Johnny Cochran.) Actually, you can sue, but you’ll never win.

Also, does Mr. S####r think he’s actually going to find 12 jurors in the District (where he moved his action) who actually like him to find in his favor? If they’re R******s fans, they’re going to hate him for his inept management. If they don’t like his allegedly “professional” sports franchise, well, you’re gonna get the same result: a verdict in favor of the defendants.

This is going to be fun to watch. Even without pizza.

* I’m just being safe here, so the “n” “y” “d” and “e” have been replaced to protect the innocent – namely me – from vicious and groundless lawsuits.

Grab your torches and pitchforks

2011-04-07T15:12:00.011-04:00

Anyone up for a walk down to the Hill tomorrow night? I'm wondering if looking out their windows and seeing something like this:

might inspire our elected representatives to put aside their petty differences and actually do the People's business. Seriously, do you think we'd get our point across if we surrounded Capitol Hill with people carrying torches and pitchforks? And just stared.

Really hard.

The people we need to get through to are the ones in the middle - no matter how small it is these days. There should be just enough of them to balance out the idiots on the fringes of the left and right to actually get together and actually Pass. The fucking. Budget!

This situation is ridiculous. We are the laughingstock of the world right now. A hard look does need to be taken at the entire budget, but not this one - this year is already shot, just pay the fucking bills and move on. And probably not the next one either - not enough time left to get that done. Now the 2013 budget that's a whole 'nother question. It needs to be looked at now. All of it: Defense, entitlements, social programs, pork. Especially the pork. Get out the knives and start cutting. When we - as a country - owe the world more than $14 trillion we can't even think about a tax cut. I don't care if you believe with all your heart that it will stimulate business. As my dad reminded me and my brothers growing up when we asked for something expensive "We can't afford it."

The 535 "representatives of the People" need to pull their heads out and remember that while they represent the 500k or so people in their individual districts, they work for all of us. And all of us are a bit pissed right now.

And they can be replaced. All of them. And they probably should be.

Here endeth the rant.

Big Moon Rising

2011-03-21T10:02:00.013-04:00

Saturday night I and just about – it seemed – every other person in the D.C. area with anything from an iPhone to a cost-more-than-your-house camera decided to head to the hill by the Netherland’s Carillion. Why is this, you ask?

Well, turns out, for the photographically inclined, this little hill has one of the best views of D.C. Either straight down the Mall – from the Marine Corps War Memorial a short walk away – or slightly offset to the right from the Carillion. The view from the Carillion also doesn’t have all the trees and road signs you get from the MCWM.

Anyway, the reason we were all out there (my estimate is more than 500 shooters) is because of the risin’ of the Super Moon. The big bad moon was at perigee and, as it turns out, was at its closest point of approach in about 18 years (according to NASA).

It made for a pretty good picture. For example:

And this:

And these too:

I hung around a little longer than most people but, as I found out, the higher the moon got, the brighter it got, but the darker the sky got. This led to longer and longer exposures to get the monuments lit correctly, but it also eliminated the possibility of getting any features on the moon. Just as well, the higher it got, the smaller it looked. Kinda like Alice.

If you were out there I hope your shots turned out just as nice. If not, well, the moon is at perigee every month so better luck next time (although it won’t be as close for a while).

*Technical stuff - All of these were shot at an ISO (film speed) equivalent of 100. The first two are 5-second exposures at f/14; the next is a 2-second exposure at f/9; and the last is 4 seconds at f/7.1. Just in case you were wondering.

Fair winds, Discovery

2011-03-09T15:48:00.005-05:00

The first of NASA's space shuttle's to reach retirement age landed today after completing its final mission to the International Space Station.

Welcome Home Discovery! You've done your crews, your nation and the world a great service during the past three decades. Actually four, come to think of it, OV-103 first flew in 1984.

Shuttle Discovery lands for the final time at the Kennedy Space Center

According to NASA, even after shuttles Endeavour and Atlantis make their final voyages in the coming months, Discovery will still hold the all-time record with 39 missions, 148 million miles flown (238 million kilometers), 5,830 orbits of Earth and 365 days spent in space. All that was achieved in less than 27 years.

Those of us in the D.C. area are lucky - we'll see you soon. According to what I've heard, you'll be replacing OV-101, the Space Shuttle Enterprise, at the Udvar-Hazy Center out at Dulles.

I can only hope the next Discovery will be as faithful a ship as you've been. Best of luck in your retirement Discovery, and may you have fair winds and following seas for the rest of your days.

From the drunk the joke’s about*

2011-03-04T15:03:00.006-05:00

To my friends who are getting married tomorrow:

I wish you all the best as you begin your lives together (even though you’ve been living in sin for several months now) and look forward to a future filled with joy and happiness.

Not being married myself, I have very little advice to offer at the precipice of your journey. But I’m going to offer some anyway.

You’ll notice, of course, I described where you are as a precipice because the two of you are making a leap of faith hand-in-hand. And we all know objects fall at the same rate…at least they do in a vacuum. Sadly, we don’t live life in a vacuum so there will be times each of you will find yourself pulling your love up after they’ve fallen a little faster or further than expected.

Do not begrudge them this, everyone is entitled to a mistake or two – within reason.

As two people who love each other you know there will always be someone at your side, taking life straight on the chin even if it’s coming at you like a gale-force wind. Other times, as the Irish prayer says, the wind will be at your back – nudging and pushing you gently along (while the sun shines warm on your face and the rain falls gently on your fields, that is). And then there’ll be the those times when one of you will have to put your shoulder in the other’s back and support them no matter what may come.

Take their support in the spirit it’s offered – the gift of someone who loves you.

You’re both adults. You both know the difference between right and wrong – although the attorney may look for a technicality and the journalist some ambiguity. If you disagree on something, talk about it before you find yourselves yelling about it. I’ve found that’s the best way, saves the throat you see.

The future is not written. But I already find myself looking forward five, 10, 20 years to when I can write about my friends’ love story and how lucky I, and everyone we call friends, were to be there as it began.

An Irish Wedding Blessing

May God be with you and bless you.

May you see your children's children.

May you be poor in misfortunes

and rich in blessings.

May you know nothing but happiness

from this day forward.

*Q. What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish wake?
A. Once less drunk.

Aaaannnd...we're done

2011-03-01T10:03:00.004-05:00

It took until about 6 p.m. Monday, but, for the most part, my move is finished. Everything is in the house (it feels so weird to write that), and all that's left now is the arranging. And there is a lot of arranging to do.

The last detail on the list? Cable and internet installation. Although they were scheduled to arrive between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m., the Comcast techs didn't show until about 3:30 or so. But when they did, they got right to work and spent an hour or so in the rain running the line from the pole to my house (my house!) and then got everything wired inside. I should point out if they'd arrived during the scheduled window, they wouldn't have had to work in the rain. Such is life.

It feels so good to have my electronic links reestablished. Not having it was almost like losing one of my senses. Yes, I know, I'm the one who complains about our dependence on the Net and social media and all that, but it still feels funny to be without.

Anyway, that's all for now. I've got some unpacking to do.

Eight hours to go

2011-02-25T02:03:00.000-05:00

I find myself unable to sleep.

It's 2 a.m. on Friday morning and I'll be signing the papers for my new house in a little less than half an hour. O.K., it's more like eight hours, but you know me, I'm totally incapable of passing up a chance to quote The Princess Bride. Two hours after that the movers show up and we get this show on the road.

But right now, I can't sleep.

I know everything should go well today - I have a really good agent and mortgage company (if anyone needs a reference I'll be happy to pass along their info) who've crossed every i and dotted every t.

But still I'm awake. I feel like I'm planning my country's 500th anniversary, a wedding, a murder and how to blame it on Guilder. I'm swamped.

About 96 percent of my stuff is packed. The boxes, if stacked end-to-end would reach from here to the moon and back. Well, at least it feels that way. That last 4 percent, though, is kicking my butt. It always seems that way.

Don't know why I can't find my to Lilly White's party (as my mom used to say). Since noon yesterday I've been busting my ass to get things packed and there are still some glaring omissions from the packing job - namely my dvd player. For some reason it never made it into a box and for the life of me I don't know why I don't have the manufacturer's box to put it in. Also still standing are the shelves in kitchen, but they knock apart pretty quickly.

All right, maybe now that I've written this down I'll be able to get my mind to relax and let me sleep.

Now if I can just avoid the shrieking eels.

Little boxes everywhere…

2011-02-22T15:56:00.000-05:00

All right, so they’re not so little. Most of them are of the 3-cubic-foot variety, but some are smaller and some are bigger.

I’ve been pondering a question the past couple of days as the boxes have filled up – Oh, did I mention I’ve bought a house and will be moving this week? No? How careless of me. Well I did. I’m giving up my “suburban” lifestyle in Arlington and moving down to the “country” in Alexandria.

At least that’s what I imagine the D.C. residents who consider Arlington to be a suburb must think of Alexandria, it being so, so far away from their glorious, shining city on the hill. And, while that isn’t the point of this post – I’ve gotten off on a bit of a tangent here, haven’t I? – it’s my belief there is nothing so special about Washington, D.C., the city itself, that would ever make me want to purchase property there.

If you can name for me a single quality of life issue where the District has a distinct advantage over its neighbors with congressional representation, lemme know. Cause I haven’t thought of one and believe me, I’ve tried.

Oh, not owning a car and being able to walk to the Metro does not make you or your address more virtuous than me and my neighbors in Virginia or the weirdoes who got stuck living in Maryland.

Annnnnnnnd….Rant over.

Getting back to my original point…boxes. As I packed up my things this past weekend, I thought about my first big move: Jacksonville, N.C. to Raleigh back when I got out of the Marines. Everything I owned fit into two seabags, a footlocker and a couple of boxes. And it all fit in my car. I basically didn’t own shit except for some clothes, some CDs and a bunch of books.

Now? Now’s a whole different story. On Saturday I filled five 3-cubic-foot boxes just with books. That’s 15 cubic feet of books. That’s a shitload of books – trust, they’re heavy. My kitchen is going to take another six or seven boxes and then there’s all the various and sundry crap we accumulate and move from address to address that'll fill another box or two.

As of now I’ve filled 14 3-cubers, four 1.3-cubers along with all the other boxes for stereo and computer gear (I am a guy after all). And, this doesn’t even count my furniture.

The funny thing is, when I look at these boxes it just doesn’t seem like all that much. It doesn’t seem like there’s a whole life packed up in there. I’m not saying I need more stuff. Believe me, I’m donating or disposing of as much as possible. But still, seeing it all there boxed up and lined up against the wall of my living room waiting for the movers (lemme tell you how nice it is to say that: "waiting for the movers," I'm savoring the concept) is, well…I don’t know.

So here’s the question I had when I started this thing: How many boxes does your life fit into?

Not something you see every day...

2011-02-13T13:53:00.000-05:00

On Saturday the button-down world of this place:

got totally unbuttoned. Hmmm, what's that? What's that coming down Constitution Avenue? It looks like a bunch of people running down the middle of the street in their underwear.

Holy Crap! It is a bunch of people (more than 400 by all accounts) running down Constitution Avenue in their underwear. With a police escort no less.

Welcome to the 2011 Cupid's Undie Run where seemingly sane people strip down for a good cause. This year's run from the Pour House to the Capitol and back raised more than $50,000 for the Children's Tumor Foundation ... as well as the spirits of those watching. I'm not totally sure, but I think if you go to the run's web page, you can still donate.

Seriously, there's nothing quite like seeing a screaming pack of mostly naked people running toward you down one of the most famous streets in the world. For more pictures, go to my Flickr page (the link's on the right side of this page).

There was a lot of pink to be seen: Pink panties, pink boxers (and, strangely, several pairs of superman boxers), pink polka-dotted bras and, with a good 10 mph breeze blowing up Capitol Hill, lots and lots of pink skin.

Now, I've played rugby in the rain in 30-degree temps, but at least there we got to huddle together every once in a while during scrums, rucks and mauls. And we were wearing shirts. I am slightly in awe of the folks who took part in the run.

This could only be more fun if they did it on a weekday while Congress was in session. Or maybe not, might cause a few heart attacks.

I particularly liked this one. The guy with the bra on his head is wearing a pair of boxers that say "I'm with stupid" with a hand pointing up. The pictures are clickable if you want a bigger view.

And, near the tail end of the pack...

Now those of us who live here in the D.C. area take this kind of silliness for granted. We work hard and every so often we need to blow off a little steam and if running around the Capitol in your skivvies does the trick, so be it.

I do wonder, though, what outsiders think of this (not that I care, but I do wonder). This was reinforced by all the folks walking by before the run reached the Capitol who asked us why there was bunch of photographers hanging around the corner of Constitution and First. I think they thought something important was about to happen, especially when the police closed the streets. But, when told we were were waiting for a hoard of people to run by in their underwear, they all kind of looked at us a little funny.

Of course, we do have to deal with all the people from out of town who come here to protest so I think confusing the tourists a bit kinda balances it all out in the end.

Nights gone by

2011-02-09T10:31:00.000-05:00

A confluence of events led to this posting. After a co-worker asked me about shooting pictures at night, and a friend asked why I haven't posted anything in forever, this is the result.

These four pictures were shot way back when in May 2010. I got bored one clear, cloudless night, so I decided to take a walk down the Pike with my camera to see what I could see. While not the best examples of nighttime photography, they do show what happens when you leave the shutter open for 30 seconds or more.

All of these are shot with the camera rated at ISO 100 (the measure of how fast the camera's sensor soaks in the light - in this case, slowly), with the aperture set at f/32 (the smallest possible) and the shutter speed at 30 seconds or more. It goes without saying I was using a tripod.

I kind of like this first one for a very simple reason: The exposure was long enough for me to make it look like the traffic signals are showing red, yellow and green all at the same time.

Shot from a very low angle (some of the people walking by looked at me a little funny as I was sitting on the sidewalk), this is just a long shot looking east down the Pike. The orange lights are courtesy of a Metro Bus.

Looking west, these next two shots are similar except in the number of cars that passed by my lens.

I really kinda like the ghosty effect of the Miata, it kind of looks like it's going to just disappear into the other car.

One of the things I love the most about shooting at night is that you can actually put a real sense of motion into a still picture. Just by cranking down the aperture and leaving the shutter open a little longer you can bring the streets to life in the dark.

The tiniest fans

2011-01-29T12:33:00.000-05:00

I found this picture in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Have you ever seen anything so cute?

If you look closely, not only are their wrapped in Terrible Towels, each of these "front seven" are also wearing little Steeler hats. And, just for good measure, this is what happens when cheese meets steel:

A little more than a week out from Super Bowl XLV and I'm getting pretty psyched! Despite what all the "experts" say (the boys from the 'Burgh are a slight underdog), I think the Steelers have a pretty good chance. You know, it's not like they didn't win their division and beat the Ravens (twice) and the Jets.

Here we go Steelers! Here we GO!

Music! Play music!

2011-01-07T12:12:00.000-05:00

I am totally grooving on this song by Mumford and Sons these days. Here, give it a listen (trust me, you'll like it):

Not exactly sure what the whole "little lion man" thing means, but sentiment in the refrain is, well, I'm sure it's something every one of us has experienced at one time or another. From both sides.
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For more from the band, click here for its song The Cave.

Hope everyone's had a good week and is finally sobered up from the new year. 2011? Not bad...so far.

Merry Freakin' Christmas

2010-12-25T08:11:00.000-05:00

There's nothing like waking up early on Christmas morning. Really early. Really, really, really early. To the ear-shattering screams and wails of your building's fire alarm.

No kidding. I looked at the clock as I dragged my tired ass out of bed this morning. The red numbers glared 4:32 a.m. While I didn't smell any smoke, a neighbor or two mentioned smelling something like burning turkey as he climbed down the stairs.

Who the hell cooks a turkey at 4 a.m. on Christmas morning?

Oh well. The very nice firemen and one firewoman who was, apparently, the boss (her hat said "captain") let us back in shortly before 5. I wished them a Merry Christmas and thanked them for being there for us on Christmas morning as I staggered back to my bed.

I'm off to see my nieces and nephew. I'm guessing they've been up since just about the time I was getting back to sleep. I don't expect to see any presents still wrapped.

Have a great day and a wonderful Christmas!

My annual Toys for Tots post

2010-12-15T09:13:00.000-05:00

You know what time it is, right? It's time to crack open those wallets and kick in a couple of bucks for one of my favorite organizations, the Marine Corps Reserve's Toys For Tots program.

Here's one of my favorite commercials of all time...

After seeing that, who wouldn't want to donate? Yeah, you in the back, I can see you trying to sneak out without anyone noticing. I've got my eye on you...

I kid of course. Donating should be voluntary, so let me retell, in part, a story I wrote about last year to help your hearts grow three sizes today:

In December 1994 I spent two days driving around Greensboro, N.C., in a Humvee, in my Dress Blues. My reserve unit was collecting toys from elementary schools and bank drop-off locations for the local Toys for Tots. The best pickups, I will say, were at the schools. Many of the kids donating the toys had given up a shot at a toy they wanted so their families could donate a new, unwrapped toy to a child who would otherwise have nothing.

Toys for Tots began modestly in 1947 when Maj. Bill Hendricks, USMCR(eserve), and a group of Marine Reservists in Los Angeles collected and distributed 5,000 toys to children. Since then, things have grown a bit. During the past 62 years of the Toys for Tots program, Marines have distributed more than 400 million toys to more than 188 million needy children.

Now that's a mighty big tree.

Continuing the memory ... [wavy finger motions] "Dododoloo, dododoloo, dododoloo..." Another cool part of the day I spent collecting was getting to unwrap about a hundred presents picked up from the banks. Despite the wonderful effort some folks went to to wrap up their donations, everything had to be unwrapped to make sure we weren't giving away any S&M Barbie dolls or live hand grenades. That wouldn't have been good. Moral of this story: Donate a toy, but don't wrap it up 'cause some Marine is just going to have fun tearing the paper off.

You can click these links for a list of drop-off locations in the District, NoVa or Maryland (for the last two, you'll have to select a county from the drop-down menu). Now, if you don't have time to go out, buy a toy and bring it unwrapped, (seriously, I'm not kidding) to a drop-off location you can still donate online to the Toys for Tots Foundation. According to its website, more than 96 percent of all donations go to buying toys, books and other gifts for kids, "The 4 percent spent on support principally covers fundraising expenses - not one donated dollar goes to pay for salaries or any other manpower costs."

Times are still tough for many of us this year, but I'm pretty sure anyone reading this can probably spare $25 to bring a smile to the face of a kid on Christmas morning. To put this in more concrete, understandable terms, $25 is way less than you'll pay for round at happy hour this week.
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Christmas is just 10 days away, you don't want it to be your fault those kids didn't get anything from Santa, do you?

Friday's video

2010-12-10T12:35:00.000-05:00

As you all know, I like taking pictures. But I can't imagine the dedication it takes to create this video. I tried posting it, but it appears MSN videos don't play well with blogger. Such is life. Still, you should click this link to watch a very very cool video.

The family took a picture of their daughter Natalie every day for the first 10 years of her life. They are all compressed here into 85 seconds.

For those of you who think this might be easy, name one thing, aside from breathing and "evacuating," you've done every day for the past 10 years. I didn't include eating and sleeping because there have been days when I've done neither.

Anyway, hope you have a good Friday and a great weekend.

Lives well lived

2010-12-08T14:59:00.000-05:00

I was on my way to bed last night when, as usual, I stopped by CNN just to make sure nothing wacky was happening with the world – like the North Koreans shooting south again. I was greeted by their yellow “Breaking News” bar and stayed my finger on the power button to see exactly what was breaking.

Sadly, it was the news we’ve all heard by now that Elizabeth Edwards, 61, had died of breast cancer. Here’s a woman who lived a life we can all aspire to emulate. Successful attorney, mother, the epitome of grace under fire – due to her cad of a husband – warrior against cancer and, I’m sure, a quiet pillar of strength who comforted others more than she asked for herself as her days drew to a close.

You may remember me writing about my mother’s battles (yes, plural) with cancer that ended nine years ago when she was 66, and I think I’ve mentioned how my brother-in-law is a 20-year survivor (he was diagnosed two weeks before he married my sister). To fight back, someone very close to me took a week off in October and raised more than $5,000 for the LiveStrong foundation by riding his bike more than 600 miles from San Francisco to San Diego. And, just before Thanksgiving, a good friend’s mother was diagnosed with what her doctors believe to be a stage IV brain tumor.

So, you ask, why are you bringing us down with all this talk of sickness and death? Well my friends, it’s because I read something yesterday at the Firecracker’s place and I’m shamelessly stealing the idea for myself.

Read this quote:

“Your life is happening right now and this is the only moment you can control. This is the only minute that really matters. If you are constantly dwelling on something that happened in the past or feeling anxious about the future, you are missing out on YOUR LIFE. Do what makes you happy in this moment and your life will be full.” – Jill Costello

I’ve never really had a philosophy on life before, but if I was forced to pick one, Jill’s wouldn’t be a bad choice. To read more about Jill Costello – scholar, champion athlete, varsity 8 cox and cancer fighter – read this Sports Illustrated article. It's a long one, but well worth every minute. While I’m not going to say it brought a tear to my eye (I wrote too many similar stories as a reporter) it came closer to anything I've read in a very long time.

To Jill Costello, Elizabeth Edwards, my mother, my brother-in-law, my brother, my friend’s mother and everyone who is fighting, fought or supporting someone who has cancer, I wish you every happiness as you forge ahead in life.

Memories of Wars Past

2010-12-07T08:40:00.000-05:00

Today is December the seventh. A day that brings to mind for many of us grainy newsreel visions of sunken ships burning on Pearl Harbor’s Battleship Row and Franklin Roosevelt’s speech to Congress.

And it does for me as well, but I also have other thoughts about a different Dec. 7 in the recesses of my memory. Twenty years ago today I set off from Camp Lejeune, N.C., as part of a small band of Marines.

We stole this sign from the beach at Camp Lejeune.

Yes, we Marines can be ironic when we want to.

We were the advance party of our battalion, leading the way overseas. Destination: Al Jubayl, Saudi Arabia. It was into an uncertain future we flew - a couple of days later it turns out. We had some oversized equipment that required a C-5 Galaxy, one of the largest planes in the world. So big in fact, the cargo bay is longer than the Wright Brother’s first flight. So we waited for our plane.

And waited.

Much of the time we while were cooling our heels at Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point, N.C., was spent outside. In the rain. Dealing with the thousand and one details that need to be dealt with before heading into the unknown. And, as with any military operation, there was also a lot of sitting around doing nothing and trying to figure out how to steal the things needed but didn't have from either the Marine air wing or, better yet, the Air Force.

You might think doing nothing would be a good thing, but it’s not. Your mind wanders. Wanders to thoughts of what might happen when you get to where you’re going. All of us had gas masks with us and some of us, the ones Gunny Mike trusted, also had live ammo. Not all of us, believe me, I wouldn’t have trusted a couple of those guys with a loaded water pistol, let alone an M-16 with live rounds. But the NCOs from my platoon were all solid guys and we all had a couple or three full magazines.

In a way, though, it was kinda … exciting. Yes, we were headed to a potential (and eventual) war zone to battle a megalomaniacal tyrant who, at the time, did indeed have chemical and biological weapons. And, yes, war is a bad thing.

But we were Marines. We were 18, 19, 20-something years old and this is what we’d signed up for. Young men and women may join the Army, Navy or Air Force for many reasons: “adventure,” “job training” or “college funds,” but Marines are cut from a different bolt of cloth. While we may not yet have reached Heinlein’s “Everybody fights” credo, Marines really do believe in the concept of “Every Marine is a rifleman.”

We didn’t know exactly what we were heading for, but we had 215 years of history backing us up as we went.

Speaking of fighting, the one memorable event from our time at Cherry Point came the night after we’d finished up all of our prep work and before we got on the plane. After working our asses off for days in the rain, Gunny Mike finally let us have on-base liberty that last night. Much to his everlasting regret, we went to the club.

Before the night was over Gunny Mike visited both the MP lock-up and the ER. The first to bail two guys out, and the second to pick up another guy who was having a MP's German shepherd removed from his arm. Ah the things that happen when you combine ground pounders, air wing types and beer. Lots and lots of beer.

Our battle cry for the next week was, “Hey Gunny, is the club off limits?”

Over the next couple of months I think I’ll revisit more these memories. Christmas and New Years in Saudi. The terror of the dreaded “Ratch” (this is funny rather than scary). January 17. Spades played under a red-filtered light. The most honest game of Monopoly in history.

There are others, and as they come to me I’ll write about them. But for today, I’ll look back on my own personal history with a bit of pride in what I did. Also, I’ll take a moment to think about the soldiers, sailors, airmen and those beautiful creatures we call Marines who have gone and who are still in harm’s way today.

May they all return home safe and sound.

A penguin’s story

2010-12-05T13:39:00.005-05:00

About 15 years ago this week, a couple of big boxes arrived in the mailroom of my dorm. Inside was my very first computer, an Apple Power PC 7500. At the time, with it’s 100 MHz processor and 1 gig hard drive, it was beast of a computer. Not the very top of the line, but pretty darn close.

This computer, which I named Opus after Opus the Penguin from Bloom County, served me well for the next six or seven years. Near the end of its service, when all computers get a bit long in the tooth, it suffered a pretty catastrophic crash that required a reformatting of the hard drive. As part of the process, I renamed it Opus II.

Then the dark years arrived, the Windows* years. Although a faithful machine, Evil Opus was, to me, well, evil. Kinda like the arrival of the evil twin on a soap opera. Nothing good ever results.

The clouds parted again in 2008 with the arrival of Opus III, my Mac Mini. O-Trey has been a workhorse. Despite requiring the addition of more than a terabyte of external storage to give me a place to keep all my pictures and music, I have had no complaints...save one. As small as it is, it's not really that mobile. Or, as Roger Daltrey would sing “mo-bile.”

But guess what? That problem is no longer a problem. In fact, I’m writing this little missive from my couch while watching the Giants kick the crap out of the ‘Skins. Allow me to introduce you to Opus IV...

Oh, sorry, that was a profile shot. Here’s a better view…

And he’s ready for his close-up...

Despite being a little more than a tenth of an inch thick at its...well, thinnest, it doesn’t feel the slightest bit delicate. “It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.”

I’ve only had him since Thursday night, but I’m already completely satisfied. Along with untethering me from my desk, I can’t wait to use is with my camera while traveling. I’m looking forward to what I can do. In fact, the pictures here were downloaded and adjusted on OIV.

Also, following that first thought, now that I don’t have to be at my desk to write anymore, hopefully I’ll be blogging a bit more. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Only time will tell.

*This used to read "PC" but, as Seb pointed out in his comment, pretty much all computers are "PCs". So for clarity's sake and to not reinforce the whole "two countries separated by a commmon language" thing, I made the change.

So sweet you almost can't stand it...

2010-11-29T11:06:00.001-05:00

I hope everyone had a very happy Thanksgiving. Mine was pretty good. In fact, last Thursday, I got to see how the other half lives.

The half with kids.

Remember what it was like to jump on a bed? My nieces and nephews sure do...

The funniest part? While Amelia (front left) was bouncing away, she was singing the "Five Little Monkeys Bouncing on a Bed" song. For those of you who don't know this cautionary tale, it goes something like this:

Five little monkeys bouncing on the bed.
One fell off and bumped his head.
Called the doctor and the doctor said,
"No more monkeys bouncing on the bed."
No more monkeys bouncing on the bed.

It then cycles down to "Zero little monkeys bouncing on the bed..." as they all fall off and hit their heads. I should point out she was smiling and giggling as she did this, knowing all the while she was breaking the law.

Then it was time for the funny faces picture. These kids are prodigies if you ask me.

And now on to the title attraction, Quinn and Neve:
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This was closer to the end of the evening and they were all wrapped up in their wubbies. Aren't they sweet? No, I mean really, really sweet.

Somewhere, there are little 2-year-old boys who have no idea their hearts will be broken someday.

Way back home...

2010-11-19T09:30:00.000-05:00

My brother sent me this video. Suffice it to say I was blown away by Danny MacAskill's skill and artistry on his bike.

Here's the description: "Way Back Home is the incredible new riding clip from Danny MacAskill, it follows him on a journey from Edinburgh back to his hometown Dunvegan, in the Isle of Skye."

I have to say, this is almost as good as the "I want to dance with Matt" video.

The scene around 4:30 riding on the pipes and then, around 5:30 where he's jumping the red English phone booth are some of my favorites. I can't begin to imagine the level of skill all of this required.

And, since I know you'll want to see the whole clip, and since Blogger seems to enjoy cutting things in half, here is the link to the video.

Happy Friday everyone! Have a great weekend!

Happy 235th Marine Corps Birthday!

2010-11-10T09:49:00.000-05:00

On this most august of days, 10 November, I want to wish my fellow Marines – past and present – a very happy Marine Corps birthday.

No matter where in the world they are – at home, aboard ship or deployed overseas – Marines will hear Gen. John A. Lejeune's Birthday Message. These are the same words every Marine has heard on this day since 1921, and the spirit of General Lejeune’s message is one of the things that bind us together as Marines.

General Lejeune’s Birthday Message of Nov. 10, 1921:

On November 10, 1775, a Corps of Marines was created by a resolution of the Continental Congress. Since that date many thousands of men have borne that name Marine. In memory of them it is fitting that we who are Marines should commemorate the Birthday of our Corps by calling to mind the glories of its long and illustrious history.

The record of our Corps is one which will bear comparison with that of the most famous military organizations in the world’s history. During 90 of the 146 years of its existence the Marine Corps has been in action against the Nation’s foes. From the Battle of Trenton to the Argonne, Marines have won foremost honors in war and in the long era of tranquility at home generation after generation of Marines have grown gray in war in both hemispheres, and in every corner of the seven seas so that our country and its citizens might enjoy peace and security.

In every battle and skirmish since the Birth of the Corps, Marines have acquitted themselves with the greatest distinction, winning new honors on each occasion until the term “Marine” has come to signify all that is highest in military efficiency and soldierly virtue.

This high name of distinction and soldierly repute we who are Marines today have received from those who preceded us in the Corps. With it we also received from them the eternal spirit which has animated our Corps from generation and has long been the distinguishing mark of Marines in every age. So long as that spirit continues to flourish Marines will be found equal to every emergency in the future as they have been in the past, and the me of our nation will regard us as worthy successors to the long line of illustrious men who have served as “Soldiers of the Sea” since the founding of the Corps.

I make my living with words and one thing I was just thinking of was the sentence, “…until the term ‘Marine’ has come to signify all that is highest in military efficiency and soldierly virtue.” As a former Marine, I like that it is a proper noun, unlike soldier, sailor or airman. The truth is, soldiers and sailors come from many countries, and many countries have marine corps – our is, in fact, descended from the Royal Marines. But if someone says they’re a Marine you can almost hear the verbal capitalization, and you know exactly where they’re from.

Following tradition, here is this year’s Birthday Message from the new Commandant of the Marine Corps, Gen. James Amos:

Sixty years ago, the United States Marine Corps—as it has throughout our history—demonstrated its vital role as America’s Expeditionary Force in Readiness. Just weeks after North Korean Communist forces crossed the 38th Parallel, the First Marine Provisional Brigade landed in South Korea, forming the backbone of the perimeter around the city of Pusan. The efforts of the “Fire Brigade” at Pusan allowed for the daring amphibious landing at Inchon and set the stage for one of the most savage campaigns in our Corps’ history—the Chosin Reservoir. As we pause to celebrate our 235th Birthday, we pay special tribute to the Marines of the Korean War and recognize their contributions to our enduring legacy.

This past year marked the end of Marine Corps combat operations in Iraq. Beginning with the invasion in March 2003 and through the next seven years of fighting, our Corps acquitted itself valiantly in the Anbar province and throughout the country. Locations such as Fallujah and Ramadi have taken their place in the illustrious battle history of our Corps. Our efforts in defeating the insurgency helped to build a brighter future for all Iraqis.

For 235 years, at sea and ashore, Marines have succeeded in every clime and place . . . where hardship and adversity have often been the common thread. Today, in the rugged mountains and valleys of Afghanistan—and recently in earthquake-damaged Haiti . . . in flood-ravaged Pakistan . . . or off the coast of Africa—we continue to protect our Nation, just as we did 60 years ago in Korea.

To the Marines and Sailors deployed overseas, to those training and preparing for their next deployment and to the warriors who no longer wear our uniform . . . we honor your selfless service to the Nation. To our loved ones who endure the many difficulties that come with being part of the Marine Family, I want to extend my sincerest thanks for all you have done and all you continue to do.

Happy 235th Birthday, Marines!

Semper Fidelis,
James F. Amos
General, U.S. Marine Corps

Not much I can add after all that. But if you know a Marine or run across someone sporting an eagle, globe and anchor today, wish them a happy birthday and watch their face light up.

Lincoln at Night and Skinny Tires on Dirt

2010-11-08T19:28:00.000-05:00

I took a lot of pictures this weekend. Somewhere north of 500 in three different situations. I'll show you two of them (the third was a birthday party and, trust me, yeah, you missed a kick-ass party).

Getting back to the pictures I'll show you, it's kinda interesting (at least to me) they required almost polar opposite settings. Friday night I was using a tripod and long exposures, and on Sunday I was just hoping I could focus in the right place to get the shot during a bike race.

Also, I need to say, it's amazing how many people there are visiting the Lincoln Memorial at 11 p.m. on a Friday night. Seriously, there were tour buses pulling up and dropping off tourists. If any of you should happen to be reading this, let me give you a hint: you're pictures will come out better if you turn off your flash. Trust me, none of these were shot with a flash. And you know what? You won't create giant blobs of light in my long-exposures.

The first three pictures were shot at a 400 ISO equivalent. That is a moderately fast ISO allowing for shorter exposures, like this one which was shot at f/2.8 (a really big aperture) for 1 second.

On the other hand this one, as you can tell by the flag, is a bit longer: f/9 (a middling aperture) for 20 seconds.

Or this one which is in color (trust me), shot at f10 for 10 seconds. If I remember my photography class correctly, f/10 is half as big as f/9 so it had half the amount of light coming through the lens for half the time. OK, it's interesting to me and probably one other guy.

This picture took a while to get, and I really need to get some gloves that have a flip-back finger. The ISO was cut in half to 200, the aperture was closed down to f/16 and the exposure was set at 5 seconds.

Sunday afternoon (after waking up late following the aforementioned party) I headed out to Rosaryville State Park in Maryland for to watch a little cyclocross race. Cyclocross, for those of you who are wondering, combines a little bit of on-road with a lot of off-road and some obstacles you have to carry your bike over. It's not for the faint of heart. Here's the start of the women's race.

The course quickly turned to dirt. OK, grass.

This is called the "bunny hop" where you have to get off and carry your bike.

Throughout the race, this woman always had a very determined look on her face. Either that or she didn't like getting her picture taken.

I wouldn't want to think about tripping here. You'd probably get run over.

A little downhill going around a curve kept the riders on their toes.

And in this sequence, the remount...

And finally a nice downhill section.

Yep, got caught taking this one.

Well, that's all for now. If you want to see some more of the cyclocross, check out my Flickr stream, there's a whole bunch more photos there.

A cautionary tale...

2010-11-02T08:23:00.000-04:00

You know what today is, right? So get off your ass and head to the polls.

While walking down the street one day a senator was tragically hit by a car and died. His soul arrives in heaven and he’s met by St. Peter at the entrance.

“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.”

“No problem, just let me in,” says the Senator..

“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from the higher ups. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”

“Really? I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,” says the Senator.

“I’m sorry, but we have our rules.”And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.

The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They played a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and the finest champagne.

Also present is the Devil, who’s a very friendly guy, and who’s having a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are all having such a good time that before the Senator realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises … The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens in heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him, “Now it’s time to visit heaven …”

So, 24 hours pass with the Senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the day’s gone by and St. Peter returns.

“Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”

The Senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: “Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.”

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell...

Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.

The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders.

“I don’t understand,” stammers the Senator. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”

The devil smiles at him and says, “Yesterday we were campaigning. Today, you voted.”

The 2010 campaign ends today, get out and vote and make it count. Sadly, the 2012 campaign starts tomorrow.

Sigh.

Fear? Sanity? Sanity? Fear? We'll go with...

2010-10-31T22:40:00.000-04:00

I'll go with a little bit of insanity. For the three or four of you who weren't on the Mall on Saturday for the Rally to Restore Sanity/Keep Fear Alive, it was a bit of a, hmmm, mad house. I heard an estimate on CNN that 200,000 people attended Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert's throw down this past weekend. The anchor did take a bit too much satisfaction in relaying the news this was double the number people who came for the Glen Beck event in September.

Here's my photographic journey from Saturday. I should point out, these are not the best pictures I've ever taken. It was way too crowded for that and the light was really weird. But I think they're representative, especially in that there's none of the stage or any of the performers. I never got close enough to even see the stage. I did hear a bit. The Mythbusters doing something with a wave and Colbert emerging from his Fear Bunker. Aside from that, nada.

Anyway, we got an inkling of what the Mall would be like when we weren't able to get on the first two trains that came through the station because they were so full. When we arrived at Navy Memorial/Archives, it looked a little like this:

That was the ground-level shot with the camera held above my head. This next one is the bird's-eye view:

The signs were pretty interesting, for example:

Considering my love of The Princess Bride, this was one of my favorites:

Very funny ... Of course, considering the double meaning of the word, that might not be such a bad thing. On a side note, I can't believe there's a Wikipedia page for this.

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Another of my favorites:

Somebody also had a sign reading, "Abortions for some, tiny American flags for others," a fine nod to the Treehouse of Horrors.

I find myself in agreement with Ben on this ...

Franklin didn't say this, but I'm sure he'd agree ...

This is looking west toward the Washington Monument. I have no doubt the 200k estimate is accurate. There were, to use a technical term, a metric fuck ton of people at the rally.

Indeed...

Well, I guess this answers that question ...

Is it really worth climbing up a light post to get a better view?

Or, for that matter, a porta shitter...

There's always one asshole in every crowd ... Seriously dude ...

And the winner for one of the best costumes of the day ... You can't see it in this shot, but it was an anatomically correct penis ...

Recycling is good, unless it's a protest sign from four years ago ...

And, on a lighter note, I saw this wonderfully decorated house up on Capitol Hill. Somebody takes their Halloween seriously ...

Hope everyone who went had a good time. Now, there's one thing left to do: Get out and vote tomorrow. Going to a rally is fine, but you've got to follow up on that enthusiasm.

Vote to restore sanity tomorrow.

A special place in Hell

2010-10-29T08:57:00.000-04:00

What could be cuter than dogs in Halloween costumes? Nothing, of course.

Although you do have to set aside the embarrassment these dogs must feel at being humiliated by their owners. I'm sure in Doggie Hell, there's a special place in the Sixth Circle for owners who dress their pets up in costumes.

Leaving aside their dogs' momentary mortification and shame, and the owners eternal (x7 since we're talking dog years) damnation, that doesn't mean the rest of us can't get a grin or two out of the dealio.

I'm just wondering how the heck they kept this little guy from shaking off the gator?

This might have been better if'n it were a shark or orca.

Does this count as cross-dressing in the canine world? Seriously, even though it's a lion, ya still dressed a dog up as a cat.

This dog is thinking, I'll get you back for this. Trust.

I've tried taking pictures of my brother's four kids. I've never gotten them all to sit still. Not once. How, in the name of Zeus's butthole, did they get four dogs, in costume, to sit still for a picture? I want to know.

OK, this one's not too bad.

A 10-legged spider? I think not.

Grandma, what big teeth you have...

"I can't believe they did this to me again this year."

As the great Sam Kinison said, "Can you do me a favor? If you see me working on the yard next week and around the house? Kill me. Kill me! Are you my friends? Don’t you love me? Do you remember when I was a man and I controlled my own destiny? KILL ME!"

Yeah, I find this one funny too.

I hope there's no water in that pot...

My question is, how did they get the cat to go along?

See, I can't tell if he's Darth Vader or Dark Helmet.

I don't know if I'd want to be the one putting on, or better yet, taking off, a doggie thong.

"Really? Seriously? After all I've done for you over the years, this ... This! ... is my reward? Thanks a lot. No, I mean that."

Four freedoms

2010-10-28T12:31:00.000-04:00

“We look forward to a world founded upon four essential human freedoms. The first is freedom of speech and expression – everywhere in the world. The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way – everywhere in the world. The third is freedom from want – everywhere in the world. The fourth is freedom from fear – anywhere in the world.”
– President Franklin D. Roosevelt, Message to Congress, January 6, 1941

Anyone know what today is the anniversary of? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

On this day, 124 years ago (1886 for those who don’t want to do the math) Liberty Enlightening the World was dedicated on Bedloe’s Island in New York Harbor. The NYT article from that day begins: “The statue of Liberty yesterday was seen through a mist darkly. Piercing winds blew around Bedlow's Island, and the numerous workmen, who were not in any way protected from the weather, worked uncomfortably.”

The description of the weather from Oct. 27, 1886, I think, also describes the political climate we see throughout America today, five days out from the midterm election. Liberty is, indeed, shrouded in a dark mist. At a time when compromise is needed, many Americans are getting set to elect leaders who will do their best to divide us more than ever.

My brother once posed a simple question to me, which I in turn ask you: Does the United States have a two-party system?

Seems like an easy one, but it's not. As much as one side likes to call the other socialists, and they like to respond with fascist (which are indeed two distinct parties), what we have here is a failure to comun’cate. In America we have a one party system. A one-party system divided by ideology since both parties actually believe in democracy. They just have a different way of showing it and different ideas on how it should be implemented.

Contrary to popular beliefs, President Bush was no more a fascist than President Obama is a socialist. If responding to an attack on our country however badly carried out (the response, not the attack) is fascism, and wanting to provide health care to all, however badly conceive, is socialism, well then, sign me up for both newsletters.

I remember being the only guy in my Marine platoon to vote for Bill Clinton. Interestingly enough, even in that supposedly radically conservative environment, it wasn't enough to generate more than a comment or two.

Fast forward to the present day and it seems differing political views are enough to set neighbor against neighbor and brother against brother. Strangely enough, I had one woman tell me she couldn't date me because I wasn't liberal enough, and another a year or so later end a relationship because I was too liberal. To me, that would seem to mean I'm doing it just about right.

Sadly, political tolerance has become the exception rather than the rule in this country. Some recent headlines:

Head Stomp Victim: Paul Supporters Planned It

Violent rhetoric on the trail

Miller security guards handcuff editor

Yes, I know all three of these examples involve Tea Party-backed Republican candidates. However, if I’d heard of a Democratic candidate’s security guards handcuffing a reporter at a public event, you can be sure I’d take note of it.

To me the first article, the one about Rand Paul’s supporters, brings to mind images of Bull Conner’s bull whips, fire hoses and attack dogs. Silencing an opposing political voice through violence is not the American way. Neither is shouting them down, I’d like to point out. I truly thought we’d moved beyond stepping on someone’s head or voice as a political act.

Seems I was wrong.

I seem to remember there being a question on a couple of different forms I filled out for my security clearance asking “Have you ever advocated the violent overthrow of the United States?” Now tell me, how can someone running for a seat in the Senate truthfully answer “no” to that question if they’ve said “Americans might seek Second Amendment remedies to their problems with government”? How can they honestly say “I do” when they are asked to swear or affirm they will support and defend the constitution of the United States as they take the oath of office?

I don’t think they actually understand the Constitution if they feel this way.

One of the most important things I learned at the School of Journalism of Mass Communication at the University of North Carolina is that the First Amendment wasn’t the first amendment. It was actually the third. The real first amendment didn’t pass and the second amendment finally passed in 1992 (202 years after introduction) becoming the 27th Amendment.

However, even if they weren’t first, these words are not a bad basis for governing: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

Read those words again carefully. There are candidates out there who believe there should be a state-sponsored religion. They believe in censoring speech and muzzling the press. They believe it’s OK to attack people who gather to ask them questions they don’t want to answer.

We all deserve the four freedoms Roosevelt talked about in 1941, especially freedom from Fear itself. I should not be afraid to express myself in public. I should not be afraid to go to the church, synagogue, mosque or temple of my choice. I should not be afraid to go to a doctor because I’m worried I won’t be able to pay the bill.

For the past 10 or so years I’ve been a firm believer in the need for a third party in this country. Sadly, I thought it would arise from the voters in the middle who’d lost their voices to the fringes of both parties. How could we have known it would explode from the far right?

There are some ugly things happening and being said today in this country. Things I'm sure our founders would cringe at. If they could figure out how to forge this country despite their differences – and they had some doozies – I'd like to think we could rediscover that spirit of compromise. You gotta meet the other guy halfway.

In the end, absolutism never works for anyone.

The Democrats are the party that says government will make you smarter, taller, richer, and remove the crabgrass on your lawn. The Republicans are the party that says government doesn't work and then they get elected and prove it.
– P.J. O’Rourke, Parliament of Whores

The Difference

2010-10-21T09:30:00.001-04:00

As the old saying goes: The only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys.

Well, I found the next expensive toy I want. Behold, I give you the new MacBook Air (the 13-inch one with the big hard drive).

Isn't it pretty?

Oh so, pretty...

And thin. So very, very, very thin.

My only concern is that it may be too slim and sleek, i.e.: How careful do I have to be with it? Does it have the cojones to stand up to my giant paws? We'll see.

Now I just have to squirrel the Benjamins over the next month or so in keeping with my new policy of only buying things I can actually afford.

Eastern Market...The answer to life, the universe and everything

2010-10-12T15:13:00.001-04:00

Well, at least it was for me on Sunday, Oct. 10, 2010. As I'm sure we've all heard by now - ad nauseum - Sunday was 10/10/10. Or, if you prefer: 10-10-10. Or, one more time: 101010, which, strangely enough, is 42 ... in binary. Hence the title of this post.

["Please Lord," he prayed silently but fervently, "don't let me be the only one who gets the joke."]*

It was bright and sunny so I decided to head out with the camera, brave the Orange and Blue line shutdowns, and take some pictures. But where should these pictures be taken? Well, Eastern Market on a Sunday is, as Goose once said, "a target-rich environment." Photographically speaking, of course.

Instead of boring you to death with 10 or 15 pictures, I've picked out just six today to tantalize you and direct you to my Flickr photostream for the rest (there's 23 more).

Warning! Photographic knowledge ahead! Warning! Unlike the pictures here, (OK, the last set I put up) Sunday I was experimenting with very, very big apertures, f/2.8 generally speaking. What this does is pick a point in space and focus on it and other objects not at that point are going to be out of focus. This is especially fun when you're shooting faces in a crowd and you want just one to be ... well ... the focus of the picture. I tried that a bit here, hope you like them.

Have you ever noticed how many people are selling mirrors at Eastern Market on Sundays? I sometimes feel as if I'm about to be interrogated for a crime I didn't commit. Anyway, in this picture, I think I managed to get parts of four different people reflected in five mirrors.

These guys were playing some fantastic bluesy guitar music. I would have hung around longer, but some woman passed out right next to them and that was my signal to exit stage left. This is a good example of a very shallow depth of field. The player in the background is in focus, but the hands of the closer one are not.

Please note, if you will, the sweet smell of success there on the right. If that doesn't do it for you, perhaps the wet kisses in the middle are more your speed.

These almost make me wish my nephew was still in onesies. But he's not, he's four and more fun to play with anyway.

This woman's face jumped out of the crowd at me. I don't know why, perhaps it's because it seems like although she's surrounded by people, she's created her own space.

And, remember, remember the sixth of February (hmmm, not as catchy as "the fifth of November..." but it'll do). That tan-and-orange hat on top of the pile on the right? It's got a fringy 'fro thing going on. I almost bought it.

For more pictures, go to my Flickr page. Or you can click on the link over there on the right side of the page.

*The answer to life, the universe and everything is 42. If you don't know that, go read a book.

Up early on Saturday morn

2010-10-04T21:35:00.001-04:00

Just before my head hit the pillow Friday night, I told myself if I could drag myself out of bed when my clock went off at 6 the next morning, I'd try to get some pictures of the sunrise over the Mall. Well, believe it or not, I did.

To prove I was up in time to see the sunrise on a Saturday morning, I took some pictures. Come to think of it, this was the third consecutive Saturday where I saw the sunrise, the last two being due to bike rides. Going to have to sleep in one of these days. Anyway, here are the pictures of my early morning adventures.

7:02:01 a.m.

Latitude N 38° 53' 18"

Longitude W 77° 4' 3"

One of the things I was trying to do was shoot some very small apertures, and all of these were shot at f/22 the smallest available on my zoom lens. What this allows is very deep depth of field - both the Lincoln Memorial and the dome of the Capitol are in focus despite being almost three miles apart. It also let me mess with the light levels with the shutter speeds. And that was fun.

Also, if you will please notice, I now have the power of Global Positioning for my pictures. Yes, my newest toy is a GPS unit I can attach to my camera. I. Am. Man. Anyway, back to to the pictures, which I should mention all have the same location.

7:05:46 a.m.

I kinda like the way this one goes from black through the yellows and oranges, and into the azure blue of the sky all the while the Washington Monument stabs through all of the colors from the shadow.

7:07:54 a.m.

The photo below is the exact same picture as the one above...only different. Literally, it's the same exposure, I just did the brightness and contrast levels just the slightest little bit different. I usually don't mess around that way too, too much with my pictures, but I like the way this one turned out. I guess you could call it a modern-day dark room accident.

7:07:54 a.m.

7:10:12 a.m.

I kinda like the way there's just a hint of sun hitting the memorial and the Capitol. Just a hint of the day to come.

7:13:42 a.m.

And then BOOM! The sun's up and the day's begun. Then it was off to Bruegger's for an everything bagel with cream cheese and some chocolate milk. All in all, a pretty good way to start the morning.

Status updates

2010-09-30T08:32:00.000-04:00

As you all well know, I'm not really one for the Facebook. But a friend passed along these, somewhat old, status updates that show me just how useful this too can be.

For instance, say you've just made a stunning scientific discovery and you want to get the word out, but you're not too sure how your parish priest might feel about your endeavors. Well, you can just throw it up there and see what happens, as such:

Or, what do you do when you and your buddies throw on some wool clothes, lock yourselves in a room at the height of summer (long before air conditioning is discovered, I might add) and then decide to break it off with the mother country? What's the best way to tell the king and Parliament that while you think you should still be friends, you're going to have to see other forms of government for a few centuries? This is especially a problem when the fastest way to get the word back to Merry Ol' England is by sailing ship. Just do a status update:

And, as we all know, it can sometimes be a bit of a problem to get tickets to see the latest shows here in D.C. But, when you do get tickets to see Our American Cousin, you want all your friends to know you're taking the little lady out to see the biggest show of the year. And, because you're treating her right, you're also probably going to get laid that night.

So, I have to admit, Facebook might be useful after all.

Just like the little engine

2010-09-28T10:27:00.000-04:00

After about 60 or so miles of riding, just about the time you'd like nothing better than to puke your guts out, there stands one final hill between you and the finish line. You and no more pedaling. You and cold shower. You and a seat that isn't wedged up your ass.

"What the Hell, what's one more hill?" you ask yourself. And then the answer comes: One more hill.

That said, I had a good time at the St. Mary's Century on Saturday. Aside from the warmer than expected temps and a course that could have been slightly better marked, it was a fun ride. Yanno, except for those last couple of miles, those pretty much sucked. And the five miles we rode out of our way because the left turn at the bottom of a high-speed hill was really badly marked.

When I finally got back to the parking lot, after doing a couple of laps to cool down and gross-up my odometer (even numbers are so much prettier, don't ya think?), I stopped, carefully leaned my bike up against a tree, took the remaining food and my camera out of my back pockets, and then laid down on the wonderfully cool concrete sidewalk.

It felt glorious.

It didn't matter it was, literally, hard as a rock. It was cool. So, so deliciously cool. And, you know how you pillow gets warm after a couple of minutes? Yeah, I actually had to scoot over after a bit because I sucked all the cool out of the concrete. Not that I couldn't use some, as some might say.

But after a couple of minutes I was up and about and headed to the picnic for some more calories and then to the gym for a quick shower before heading home.

Let me 'splain the lessons learned from the St. Mary's Century, no, there is too much, let me sum up:

First, and I can't stress this enough, don't do two personal best long rides on consecutive weekends. This is just stupid.

Next, there's a big, big difference between riding 50 miles and riding and 65 miles. I imagine it's like the difference between running 20 miles and running 26.2. While neither of the first two are exactly easy, they're doable on what you've got inside. To do the others - ride 65 or run 26.2 - you've got to find a different place to get your energy from. At least I had to.

Speaking of energy, I'm still getting used to eating during and while I ride. All told, I think I shoved about 1,000 calories down my throat before and during the ride. Wasn't enough and, once you get behind that power curve, it's nigh on impossible to catch up. Personally, I'm sure I got right to the edge of boinking, but didn't. I took the Beasties' advice throughout the last five or so miles: "Low and slow, that is the tempo."

The evidence of my almost boink came when I got home. I thought I'd take a nap at 5 p.m., and I did. It lasted until just about midnight. When I woke up my body was screaming out for food. Luckily, I live right next to a 24-hour diner, so I pulled on some shorts, shoes and a hat and limped on over. After inhaling a steak omelet, I headed home and went back to bed. This time I woke up at 9 a.m. feeling pretty all right. If you do the math there, I slept for seven and eight hours with a one-hour break in between. To put that in perspective, I generally get by on six hours a night and haven't slept more than eight in I don't know how long. Saturday night, I slept for 15 hours.

Finally, I'll definitely do another one. And this time, I'd like it to be a full century. But that's going to take a lot more training. Perhaps next spring, in March or April before it gets too warm. Anyone care to join?

And one more thing, you can still help my friend out by sponsoring him in his eight-day, 635-mile ride from San Francisco to San Diego next month. Make a donation by going to his LIVESTRONG fundraising site and following the directions.

Harvest Moonset

2010-09-23T19:45:00.000-04:00

Wednesday night a Harvest Moon rose over D.C. and I thought about going down to the Netherlands Carillon to shoot some pictures. But, as I got off my bus on the way home from work I took a look to the east and it looked a bit cloudy.

So I bagged it. I'd been out the night before and my ass was dragging a bit so I decided I'd go home, relax and get a good night sleep.

Turns out that was a good thing. I bounced out of bed Thursday morn ready to face the day. After I'd finished my breakfast and was heading to the shower I took a glance out the door and saw a the Harvest Moon setting over the Pike.

Seeing as I was running a bit ahead of schedule I grabbed the camera, tripod and remote and went out on the balcony. Score!! An orange moon on an indigo sky. The images are clickable, so if you want to see the bigger versions, go ahead and click away.

These pictures, obviously, didn't come from my balcony. They were shot two Saturday's past at the Arts on F, along the Mall and at the Hirshhorn during the Yves Klein exhibit. I was playing around with close-ups in some of them, as you can see, and others were targets of opportunity.

These images are from the frieze surrounding the Building Museum. I find the mule skinner particularly captivating.

I never knew there was a "Diana" street in D.C.

Sisters. At least I assume so.

This just kinda drew my eye.

The Klein exhibit was a display of pure color. Sadly, they didn't let you take pictures so I had to sneak some in and trust in Fate. This one turned out pretty OK.

Up or down?

Amazing what a reflection becomes.

Well, that's all for now. I'm headed down to St. Mary's County tomorrow for my little bike ride. If you haven't yet, you've still got a chance to contribute to my friend's ride next month out in California to support the Lance Armstrong Foundation. You know you wanna.

A turn of the wheel

2010-09-21T11:45:00.000-04:00

For those of you wondering how Saturday turned out, well, I have to say it went pretty good. All in all my friend and I rode just about 50 miles, so I'm confident I'll be able to complete my metric century this coming weekend.

Trust me when I say I tried to create a map to show our route but failed miserably due to the technical flaws inherent in Google Maps. It's all the technology's fault. Therefore, you'll get a description of the route via the written word.

Started at Lee Highway and Glebe in Arlington. At 6:30. On a Saturday morning. The roads were very clear. Along with six other riders (a group that soon became four others due to some broken spokes) we headed from there to Great Falls (the Virginia side) for the morning coffee.

After splitting off from the group the two of us rode from Great Falls to Reston on a variety of roads, including a lovely jaunte down Sunrise Valley Drive, and then down to the Washington & Old Dominion Trail (the WOD). Fourteen or so miles later, at the intersection of the WOD and Columbia Pike, I passed my personal best for distance at 35.5 miles. By the time we made the turn onto the Potomac Trail by National, we'd done around 40 miles, just 10 to go.

The next five or so miles - National to Rosslyn - skipped right by. Hey man, I was thinking, this is easy. And then we got to Rosslyn and Lee Highway again. While riding from west-to-east on this road is pretty fun, it's definitely no fun going west. Straight. Up. Hill. For the last five miles. Not a serious grade, but just a long, dedicated pull up hill.

But I did it. And now I'm looking forward to the ride down in St. Mary's this weekend. Who knows, maybe one of these days soon I'll be able to throw away that "metric" tag and just do a real century.

As I mentioned in my last post, while I'm doing this for fun, my friend has a more important purpose in mind. He's riding 635 miles from San Francisco to San Diego in eight days next month to raise money for LIVESTRONG. And, while he's 80 percent of the way to his $5,000 goal, every little bit helps. So here's how you can help:

You can make a donation by going to his LIVESTRONG fundraising site
Enter an amount in the box
Click “Continue,” and follow the instructions from there

See you on the trails...

May the road rise up

2010-09-17T08:46:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow, a friend and I are headed out for a little bike ride. For me, the ride will be the longest I’ve ever done – 50 miles. Not so much for him. He’s ridden 50s and more before, but it’s still an important ride.

You see, next week, the two of us will be heading over to Maryland for the St. Mary’s Century. For those of you unfamiliar with biking terms, that’s a hundred miles. I, personally, will be taking the wimp’s way out and doing the metric century – 100 kilometers (about 65 miles), so I’ll be setting personal bests on two consecutive weekends.

The thing is, while I’ll be curled up in a ball whining in pain the next day, my friend’s going to head back out on the road to see if he can do it again. There is a method to his madness: He’s training for an even longer ride for a better cause than just a T-shirt. But I’ll let him explain in his own words:

Colleagues, friends, family, and fellow cyclists,

As some of you may know, I am riding my bike from San Francisco to San Diego, Calif., next month as part of KPMG’s Chasing Daylight charity ride to raise money to help fight cancer. The Chasing Daylight Tour will cover 635 miles from San Francisco to San Diego in eight days from Oct. 10 to the 17.

This year, we are raising money for Lance Armstrong’s Foundation, LIVESTRONG. My personal goal is to raise $5,000. Our collective goal is to raise $200,000, which will make us the biggest single grassroots fundraiser for LIVESTRONG. You can be sure that your donations will be put to good use. KPMG and the individual Chasing Daylight riders are bearing all costs for the ride: transportation, lodging, food, and support. That means that 100 percent percent of the money that you donate will go to LIVESTRONG to help inspire and empower people affected by cancer.

Most of us probably know or love someone who has been touched by cancer. Please help me honor those people and help others who are currently fighting the battle by donating whatever you can.

HOW YOU CAN HELP
You can make a donation by going to my LIVESTRONG fundraising site
Enter an amount in the box
Click “Continue,” and follow the instructions from there

If you are interested in finding out more about LIVESTRONG, please click on the links below:
What We Do
Get Help
Our History
Milestones

Yeah, you read that right, 635 miles in eight days. In case you didn’t, lemme spell it out for ya: Six hundred and thirty-five miles. In eight days. San Francisco to San Diego.

As he said, “Most of us probably know or love someone who has been touched by cancer,” and that is true in my case as well. My brother-in-law was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease two weeks before he married my sister. And, come Nov. 1, it’ll be nine years since my mom died after her second go ‘round with cancer.

I checked this morning, my friend’s a little more than halfway to his $5,000 goal. Any help you can give to help him reach that goal is greatly appreciated.

Live. Strong.

“May the road rise up to meet you,may the wind be ever at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields.
And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.”

An Unoriginal Idea*

2010-09-15T11:01:00.000-04:00

I have a friend. A very, very educated friend - he's been through, like, 24th grade. Every once in a while I'll get a text from him that, quite simply, must be shared with the world at large. That said, I'll identify him no further.

Also, I don't think he reads my blog (sadly), so I feel pretty safe posting his missives. One or two of you might recognize the style, but I don't think you'll rat me out.

The Rant

"My GOD...Wal-Mart is an amazing example of what happens when natural selection is halted by misplaced social programs, entitlement mentalities and a philosophy of redistribution. The anthropologist in me can't help but stare in a macabre curiosity typically reserved for only the fringes of human behavior. Like head shrinking or bestiality; you don't want to look but you can't look away. We need to allow for certain Darwinian realities or the human race is SCREWED!!"

My first though about his observations was perhaps it was just the area where he lived. An area, I might add, that has long been the brunt of jokes about the evolutionary success of its residents. Then I realized he'd probably feel the say way about the clientele of a high-end boutique on Rodeo (I like to pronounce it the way they did in Tejas) Drive.

Then I realized he was entirely serious.

*As Mark Hunter said, "All the great themes have been used up and turned into theme parks."

Northside flu

2010-09-08T10:32:00.001-04:00

Windiess Bleacherus.

It'a a rare condition, I'll admit, usually only found in certain neighborhoods in the far northern reaches of Chicago on 50 to 60 days each spring and summer. Sadly, while I feel its characteristic symptoms today, I will somehow have to muddle through the day.

Damn it!

The Real "Crash" Davis

(and even though he went to Dook, I'm still posting his picture here)

The Nats are playing an extremely rare day home game today at 12:35 p.m. As much as I'd love to blow off work and head out to the ballpark, sadly, the work culture in this town is like an antibody to Northside, or Wrigley flu. Half of D.C. bills by the hour, and the other half are clients checking the billing records. This effectively negates the possibility of taking a little undertime, chucking the tie and lounging in the outfield for an afternoon.

Sad.

Playing hookie from work is so entrenched in the Chicago culture you almost feel a little silly not going to the game. My brother told me he and three guys in his IT department each used to sign out to a different location downtown - specifically Clark and Addison; Addison and Sheffield; Sheffield and Waveland; and Waveland and Clark - and take in a game.

D.C. is a night game town, and that sucks. But, and this is a big but, if they started playing day games, I bet people would loosen up and come.

"This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come."
- Terence Mann, Field of Dreams

Ultimate test of Good v. Evil

2010-09-07T11:22:00.000-04:00

Jesus and Satan were having an ongoing argument about who was better on the computer. They had been going at it for days, and frankly God was tired of hearing all the bickering.

Finally fed up, He said, “THAT'S IT! I have had enough. I am going to give you a test that will run for two hours, and from the results, I will judge who does the better job.”

So Satan and Jesus sat down at the keyboards and typed away.

They moused.

They faxed.

They e-mailed.

They e-mailed with attachments.

They created PowerPoint presentations.

They downloaded.

They did Excel spreadsheets.

They created more PowerPoint presentations.

They wrote reports.

They created labels and cards.

They created even more PowerPoint presentations.

They created charts and graphs.

They did some genealogy reports.

They did every job known to man (and then did another PowerPoint presentation to sum it all up).

Jesus worked with heavenly efficiency and Satan was faster than hell.

Then, 10 minutes before the two hours were up, lightning flashed across the sky, thunder rolled, rain poured down and, of course, the power went off. Satan stared at his blank screen and screamed every curse word known in the underworld. Jesus just sighed.

Finally the electricity came back on, and each of them restarted their computers.

Satan started searching frantically, screaming: “It’s gone! It's all GONE!! I lost everything when the power went out!”

Meanwhile, Jesus quietly started printing out all of his files from the past two hours of work. Satan observed this and became irate.“Wait!” he screamed. “That’s not fair! He cheated! How come he has all his work and I don’t have any?”

God just shrugged and said, “Jesus saves.”

Trying to Reason with the Hurricane Season

2010-09-02T16:06:00.001-04:00

Squalls out on the gulfstream
Big storms coming soon
I passed out in my hammock
God, I slept way past noon
Stood up and tried to focus
I hoped I wouldn't have to look far
I knew I could use a Bloody Mary
So I stumbled next door to the bar

I’ve found myself mentally looking over my shoulder the past couple of days. You know, like when you feel there’s a powerful force lurking out there just waiting for you to let your guard down.

No, I’m not paranoid. Really. You’re not paranoid if something actually is out to get you. In my memories their names read like a rogues’ gallery of malcontents:

Hugo – ’89
Emily – ’93
Fran – ’96
Dennis – ’99 (x2)
Floyd – ’99
Irene – ’99
Ivan – ’04
Katrina – ’05
Rita – ’05

This is a pretty kick-ass image of Rita (that bitch). Seriously,

it's basically covering the Gulf of Mexico.

There are a couple of other hurricanes I’ve been the fringes of, but their names are lost to me in the mists of time - and alcohol. Definitely alcohol.

Honestly, along with a desire to move closer to my family, the dream of moving somewhere that didn’t have a bull’s eye painted on it was a big part of my leaving Texas. After covering Katrina and living through and covering Rita, I was through with tropical cyclones.

Done.

Finished.

Never again.

We bitched and moaned up here when the power went out for a couple of hours or a day or two last month. But imagine what it’d be like if the greater D.C. area was without power for eight days ... and the farther reaches had to do without for weeks. Say end of September until Thanksgiving. That’s what happened to the town where I lived after Rita slammed into us on Sept. 23, 2005. Do you know how long it took me to break the habit of stopping at stoplights to looking both ways before pulling through the intersection? That’s what you do when the traffic signals don’t have power. (The answer: I sometimes still do it.)

I only spent a couple of days in Louisiana after Katrina, but I saw enough. I’m not downplaying what Louisiana and the people living there went through during and after Katrina. But the fact is Rita was a bigger and more powerful storm – the fourth most powerful hurricane ever – and I’m wondering when CNN is going to do it’s weekend-long coverage about the aftermath of the storm that flattened Southeast Texas and Southwest Louisiana.

Towns like Sabine Pass, Texas, and Johnsons Bayou, La., just vanished. Beaumont, where I lived and worked as a reporter, lost power around 2 a.m. on Sept. 24 and the lights didn't come back on until about 8 p.m. Oct. 1. The days were long and hot and the nights were pitch dark and eerily quiet. You really don't realize all the white noise (air conditioners, fluorescent lights etc.) that fills our lives ... until it's gone. On the plus side, you could really see the stars.

And now here comes Earl. Like your drunken uncle, all ready to spoil the big holiday weekend. Thankfully, unless you had plans of heading to the OBX or Ocean City, or up to Lawn Guyland or Bar Harbor, you shouldn’t have any problems.

But you know what? Even though I live in a hi-rise on top of a hill, I’m going to keep looking over my shoulder until our drunken fool of an uncle is well past. And then I’ll start looking for the “Rita – Five Years Later” news special.

But I won’t be holding my breath.

Shocking News!!! Or, “Thank you Capt. Obvious!”

2010-08-18T12:18:00.000-04:00

The world was stunned today by the release of a study’s results in the Journal of Abnormal Psychology. In this ground breaking research, scientists have finally answered one of the questions long plaguing mankind:

“Why does the hard eight you left the bar with last night look like a generous four the next morning?”

My friends, science has found the reason for beer goggles and the culprit is, wait for it, beer. Yes, I’m as shocked as you.

“The average guy tends to perceive more women as being sexually interested after a few drinks and be more likely to make mistakes about what a woman feels," says study co-author Teresa Treat, an associate professor at the University of Iowa.

The folks in Hawkeyeland must be so, so very proud today. I hope they kept the receipt for whatever money they paid for this research.

Fergodsakes, Jamie and Adam did this same study on Mythbusters in the not-so-distant past. Instead of reading an APA journal article, just go here to see the team from M7 confirm the “myth” of beer goggles.

And in further news from the world of medicine, doing meth is not a good idea for pregnant women. Really?

According to another the MSNBC article (guess where I spent my lunch?), “[the] team compared health factors such as preterm delivery and uncontrolled high blood pressure, and for almost every factor the researchers measured, the meth users and their babies fared worse.”

I must agree with the snark in the article: Shocking.

Finally, the article titled “Remove what from where? Orifice surgeries expand” wasn’t about what I thought it was going to be about. While I thought it might be stories about surgeons having to remove strange objects from the interesting and embarrassing places lonely people had put them, sadly, it wasn’t.

I feel so cheated.

In fact, the story is about new surgical techniques like, literally, removing a person's stomach through their mouth as part of a weight-loss surgery.

All together now: Ewwwww.

Coming soon! To a theatre near you!

2010-08-04T16:23:00.001-04:00

Anyone remember Oregon Trail? That kick-ass game we used to play in school? Well, if you've ever wished someone would make a movie about the experience, you're in luck.

[Caution: Widescreen video ahead. You may want to go to YouTube to actually watch it.]

I think I may have actually tried that whole "Gimme four oxen and all the bullets I can buy" strategy. It may have led to my untimely demise.

OK, maybe it's not for real, but it's still funny.

Stupid things written in today’s NYT

2010-07-29T14:06:00.000-04:00

Some days I don’t know why I read the NYT. More often than I’d like something America’s paper of record prints just annoys the crap out of me. Today is no exception. But I keep reading mainly because, for the most part, I learn something interesting in each article.

Today’s big news? The federal court injunction against Arizona’s immigration enforcement law. I’m not going to get into the right or wrong of the law except to say that, at the federal level, it needs to be changed and changed soon (like now). While I’m know I’m not in favor of an amnesty/citizenship program, I definitely think a massively expanded guest worker/rigorous enforcement program is needed.

Getting back to the point, the NYT had a fascinating article today about a little known aspect of how the immigration issue impacts the border counties in Arizona (and, I'm guessing, Texas, New Mexico and California).Because enforcement has been stepped up along much of the border – the more easily crossed sections – it turns out illegal immigrants are now forced to traverse the less hospitable (read scorching desert) sections of the U.S.-Mexico border. This has led to many, many more illegal immigrants dropping dead on their journey to America. Their bodies are now filling the morgues in the border counties up to overflowing.

Like I said, an interesting article. The problem I have with it is the following section:

Human rights groups say it is the government’s sustained crackdown on human smuggling that has led to more deaths.

“The more that you militarize the border, the more you push the migrant flows into more isolated and desolate areas, and people hurt or injured are just left behind,” said Kat Rodriguez, a spokeswoman for the Coalición de Derechos Humanos in Tucson.

Yes, of course. It’s the government’s fault for enforcing the law that these people are dying while they break the law. I can see the logic in that. This is the kind of crap that pisses me off. Why is the United States (and other industrialized nations) not allowed to protect its borders and keep illegal immigrants out?

No one has a right to just come here. And, if you’re not trying to break our laws by illegally entering our country, well, then you don’t have to worry about risking a horrible death from exposure by walking across the Sonoran or Chihuahuan desert.

Truthfully through, I can respect the effort. I am the grandson of immigrants who descendants have, in two generations gone from the desperation of the Irish potato famines and civil war, to masters degrees and upper-middle class living.

That’s why we need to fix our broken immigration system. Anyone willing to walk across a burning desert for a shot at a better life is someone who will put in a hard day’s work to better themselves and their children (unless they're a terrorist trying to sneak in and I hope you die screaming in pain under a scorching sun). And that’s the kind of spirit America was built upon.

That's the spirit that makes and keeps America great.
,

New product alert!!

2010-07-28T15:41:00.001-04:00

Every so often you see something that just makes you laugh. This installment of the Foggy Dew is brought to you by the good people at The Onion.

According to a Trojan press release: "No One’s Pleasure condoms feature a quarter-inch-thick layer of non-lubricated latex with a unique abrasive texture that creates a variety of stinging sensations “for both him and her.” The company statement goes on to explain that the product magnifies personal insecurities and awakens deep-seated, unresolved relationship issues that are “sure to raise passions and quicken your pulse."

To read more about this exciting new product, click here.

Just the fact they put "Extra Gritty" on the package (ha, package) makes me laugh.

Moving objects

2010-07-26T09:37:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, despite the temperature downtown being equal to that of the surface of the sun, I went for a walk around the Mall. Strangely, it was virtually identical to the one I took in December during the big snow. West Potomac Park to the Lincoln Memorial, down the north side of the Reflecting Pool to the World War II Memorial, and then to the Tidal Basin and back to my car.

I haven't had the chance to play with all the pictures, but I'd like to introduce you to Carlos, who I met right behind the Lincoln Memorial.

As you can see, Carlos was practicing his juggling and doing a pretty good job despite the heat. Why "despite the heat" you ask? Well, turns out when it's hot outside the body reacts by sweating in an attempt to cool itself. This, strangely, has a negative effect on juggling: It makes your hands very, very slippery.

Anyway, as you can see, Carlos is a very talented juggler. I don't know if it comes through in the pictures, but he has a very intense style - the next pictures try to show this - involving snatching the bottles out of the air in mid-flight and sweeping them through the paths of the others. It's pretty impressive.

I've had these two moon set pictures waiting to go for a couple of weeks now, and am only now getting around to posting them. As with most of my sun and moon set pictures, they were shot from my balcony. These were taken July 14:

I took a bunch more pictures on my Sunday walk - including the "Summer" edition of my Four Seasons series - but haven't gotten around to editing them yet so stay tuned.

Let's DO IT!!

2010-07-23T14:44:00.000-04:00

So, apparently the fix was in.

D-Day: War's over, man. MTV dropped the big one.

LiLu: Over? Did you say “over”? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!

Foggy Dew: [whispering] Germans?

Lexa: Forget it, she’s rolling.

LiLu: And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin’ gets tough... [thinks hard] the tough get goin’! Who’s with me? Let’s go!

[LiLu runs out, alone; then returns]

What the fuck happened to the LiLu-verse I used to know? Where’s the spirit? Where’s the guts, huh? “Ooh, we’re afraid to go with you LiLu, we might get in trouble.” Well just kiss my ass from now on! Not me! I’m not gonna take this. MTV, they’re dead men! Xaiver, dead! Gabi -

Foggy Dew: Dead! LiLu’s right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody’s part.

LiLu: We’re just the guys to do it.

D-Day: Let’s do it.

LiLu: LET’S DO IT!!

Going forward, I'd like to solicit suggestions of really futile and stupid gestures to screw up the rest of the so-called "Music" Television's TJ contest. Perhaps something along the lines of, "May I have 10,000 marbles please?"

Mr. Burns would not approve

2010-07-14T20:45:00.001-04:00

I was upstairs doing my laundry when this note tacked to the bulletin board caught my eye...

I'm wondering if one of my neighbors used to work at CERN on the on the LHC. All I can say is that I hope it's in good condition, you know, after being transported from Switzerland. Or perhaps it's just a low-budget photon, captured from a common table lamp. You have to be careful when you're acquiring subatomic particles.

The next thing you know there's going to be cut-rate proton and neutron stands on every corner selling counterfeit molecule parts.

Whoever it is, Charles Montgomery "Monty" Burns would definitely take exception to the thought of someone trying to just give away light. Why give it away when you can build a giant disk to blot out the sun?

Seriously, there's only 16 words on the note, including phone number and apartment number (both obscured to protect the poor speller). How can you misspell two of them?

[Note: Don't forget to check out my new pictures on my photostream (link on the right). Moonset over the Pike.]

Prime numbers and dirty words

2010-07-07T15:03:00.001-04:00

I got tagged by the lovely (at least e-wise speaking since we’ve never met, but her writing is pretty attractive) magnolia with this meme (her answers). Interesting questions, hope you like the answers.

Oooo, and I even get to use dirty words along the way. A prime number’s worth of them in a row. And now, onto the Q&A.

Q. What is your favorite board/party/card game?

A. So many, many possible answers to this question. Favorite board game would have to be Trivial Pursuit. My love of all things arcane, inane and, well, trivial, once led to a situation where it was me against a group of four people. I still won. Party game: I assume this to mean “drinking game” and that would have to be Three Man. Few things better than a good game of Three Man. As for my favorite card game, that’s easy. During my time in the Marines I must have worn out a dozen decks of Bicycles playing Spades. Anyone out there know how to score a “nil-blind six*” bid?

Q. What is your earliest memory?

A. I’m dating myself here, but it would have to be the launch of Apollo 15. My family spent the summer in Florida while my dad was working on the construction of the Disney hotel with the monorail running through it (he helped design the place). We were outside around the pool and even from 50 miles a Saturn V makes a hell of an impression.

Q. If you could witness one event that occurred prior to your birth, what would it be?

A. Still feeling full of patriotic fervor today, so I’d choose Philadelphia, July 1-4, 1776 for the writing and signing of the Declaration of Independence. Perhaps whisper something in Jefferson’s ear while he was writing or in Adams’ and Franklin’s ears as they took a red quill to the document. The more I think about it, I'd be willing to swap this for the Constitutional convention, there's definitely some changes I'd like to get on the record there (term limits, balanced budget anyone?)

Q. What is your favorite curse word?

A. So many curse words…so, so little time. In truth, there really are only seven choices: shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker and tits.** To narrow it down anymore is difficult but, if forced, my favorite curse word is the versatile and venerated H-bomb of curse words: Motherfucker. Yep, me and half the folks on Inside the Actors Studio.

Q. What is your main fault?

A. I can sometimes be too detail-oriented…wait, not a job interview. The real answer is this: Events that make most people recoil in horror have very little impact on me. Someone shot 37 times? Easy, I'm also wondering why they wasted so many bullets with the price of ammo these days. Town flattened by a tornado or hurricane? Been there, done that and, somewhere, I actually have a t-shirt for it. Need someone to knock on the door of the dearly and very, very recently (within three hours) deceased? Send me in coach, I’m your boy. Between the Marines and being a reporter, especially as a reporter, I’ve seen and written about the worst aspects of human behavior, tragedies and natural disasters. It’s not that I don’t have empathy, I do, but I’d actually be surprised if humanity or nature could shock me anymore. They’re both so predictable.

Q. What turns you on?

A. I’m going to assume this question deals with sexual attraction, cause there’s lot’s of ways to turn a guy’s crank: food, sports, a new electronic device. Anyway, when it comes to women, the answer is, above all else, a woman who challenges me. Intellectually, emotionally, sexually, physically, comedically. Two of those five are going to disappear – eventually – and when they do you better hope you’re with someone you can talk to and laugh and cry with. Also, a great ass doesn’t hurt.

Q. What is your idea of misery?

A. Watching Dook win the national championship last year.

Q. What do you wish you knew more about?

A. Other places. I’ve traveled far too little and would like to go somewhere interesting – Rome, South Africa, Belfast, Central America, Scotland, the moon, North Korea (OK, maybe not that last one) – and learn about it. The day you stop learning is the day the entropy takes hold.

And that’s all folks.

I know the normal form of these things is to pass them along. But I’m not going to do that. I will, however, challenge you to pull these questions, answer them and post them in your little corner of the interwebs and then send me the link. I’ll post all the links I get here.

* 220 points – 100 for the nil and 120 for the blind six. A bold move that can either get you back into a game, or lose it for sure.

** Now don’t get on me about using the word “cunt.” Like it’s any worse than the other six. Also, if you don’t recognize the reference, I suggest a little research into the history of censorship and stand-up comedy.

Fireworks!! Ohh!! Ahh!!

2010-07-05T13:08:00.000-04:00

Happy Day After Birthday America! Or, as we like to call it around here: Fireworks Picture Day!!

I have to say, Sunday's fireworks show was pretty good. It was the first time I've been on the Mall for fireworks since New Years 2000. You remember, the night everyone thought the whole world was going to Hell in a hand basket as the computers began to misbehave because the human programers never taught them to recognize the year 2000.

"It was a bug Dave."

Also, the Washington Monument was still wrapped in its sleek and sexy scaffolding as they spruced the old boy up.

Anyway, I hit the Mall last night for the fireworks and had my "America, Hell Yeah!" levels topped off for the coming year.

But, before we get on to the pretty pictures from last night, a cautionary warning to photographers everywhere: When the finale comes remember to lower your shutter speed or crank down your aperture or you'll get pictures like these:

OK, the second one's not that bad. But still, with all the light they're throwing up in the sky, (caution, technical details ahead) 2 seconds at f8 with a 100 ISO is too much. You'll end up with very bright pictures. You gotta stop it down in some way and, after further review, I'd recommend stopping down either one or two stops.

One other little thing I discovered: People don't sit down for the show so be prepared to have some heads in the shot. Once you set up, that's it. With all the people around you have to choose your spot and stick with it. Even if the people in front of you insist on holding up their iPhones as they try, fruitlessly, to record the show.

And now for the rest of the show. These aren't in order, but they're pretty close. They're all clickable if you want to see them real big. For more, check out my Flickr page (I hope I'm doing this right.) I especially liked the way the sky went from a grayish-blue and orangy sunset color to start with, to inky black all in the space of about 15 minutes.

The only bad part about fireworks? You only really get them once a year. I'll just have to remember all of this for next year. Enjoy the rest of your long weekend.

A sign of the Apocalypse? Well, maybe in Rio...

2010-07-02T12:06:00.000-04:00

"There's only two things I hate in this world. People who are intolerant of other people's cultures and the Dutch." - Nigel Powers, the fahza of British super spy Austin Powers.

See, I'm guessing the folks in Brazil, after getting beat 2-1 in the World Cup, are feeling kinda the same way about the Netherlands as Maurice Joseph Micklewhite.

All good things must come to an end.

Rule of 3s? Law of thirds?

2010-06-30T11:54:00.000-04:00

I've never been too much of a rule-breaker, at least not intentionally. Although I do subscribe to and try to live by the maxim of "Tis better to ask forgiveness than permission."

Gotta tell you though, whether you call it the Rule of 3s or the Law of Thirds, I intend to ignore the possibility that bad things happen in threes. You see, in the past two days both of my best friends have visited one of these:

Yeah, the hospital.

One had an MRI on his back and the other had ERCP which, upon further study, looks like the more uncomfortable of the two procedures. FTW! Seriously, owwww!

Does a blog post count as a "Get Well Soon!" card?

And since I'm a big fan of cards that make you laugh (sent my dad a "serious monkey" card for Father's Day. It had a picture of a chimp wearing a suit and glasses), here's a funny thought, and I say this with love: My friends are five weeks (ERCP boy) and seven weeks (MRI boy) younger than me. Each year they enjoy harassing me when my birthday comes first. Yes, that's very funny. Makes me think about this video a little. (Seriously, click the link, suffer through the 15 second commercial and then watch the video. It is one of the funniest and, at the same time, saddest, three-minute short films ever made. I'm not kidding.)

Of course what really got me thinking is that I'm riding my bike to work more and more these days. During a conference call yesterday with, incidentally, a co-worker of MRI boy, it came out that we're both occasional bike commuters. The comment he made, the one that got me thinking, was, "From one bike commuter to another we both know if you ride your bike to work it's not a question of if you get hit by car, but when and how bad."

You know, I never really thought about it that way before, but thanks, thanks a lot for that thought.

Anyways, best wishes to both of my best friends. Get well soon cause I look forward to many more years of harassment.