the arm was re-attached

i guess i'm not having such a rough day afterall. a vet was trying to remove some tranquilizer darts... oops on that dosage!

Pants on FIRE

I'm as big a flirt as the next guy, but I try and make sure that what I say, can be pass the significant other test.

Some time ago after (guess what?) a nice 2 hour bike ride, my riding partner for that day and I decided to end the morning with coffee shop stop. Hmmm... deep rich bitter black brew for me, some sugary foamy non-fat milky desert-like drink for her. Gross. The place we were staying was close enough to the cafe to afford a shower and change before getting high on caffeine, even though going to coffee shop in the shammy and cleats feels like vacation - to me anyway. Oh and what else do you need to know? She's a looker.

So we funnel in like cattle, line up for our fix and decide to divide and conquer. I'll order the drinks and get a table and absent any readable newspaper, she'll walk to the drug store next door and get an LA or NY Times to peruse while the jo begins to flow.

We get the drinks, and I head over to the bar as she makes a pit stop and then runs the errand. I'm at the sugar/cream bar polluting her beverage with "in the raws" and this attractive lady is scolding her 6 year old, "Johnny, you have to start eating something that's good for you, waffles and bagels everyday isn't cutting it." (Maybe she should start feeding him something different instead of giving in to his constant beggings for maple syrup and cream cheese depositories?)

I chime in, glancing both mother and son a smile, "She's right, gotta eat those fruits and veggies to be strong." She winks a thank you and whisks him out the door for patio time and I settle into a table awaiting my mainstream media indoctrination.

Back comes my hotty with a paper and, "you won't believe what just happened!" "Sure I will," I say flippantly, "go for it."

"This guy just followed me into the drug store, practically stalked me in the isle to come up to me and say 'WOW, I just wanted to let you know you have some gorgeous legs.'" Not so terribly surprising, given the actual legs, but wait. "Get this," she adds, "he had a wedding ring and a kid with him, and look (out the window of the cafe), here they come back from the drug store! What an ass!" She didn't respond to his flattery and went about the Sunday deforestation purchase. Got it? Get it? Guess it?

Yeppers, it's little Johnny, this time with daddy. I let her know... "I think I know you suitor's wife!" I look outside to see the milfa and sure enough, she's out there yapping away to some girlfriends and I seize my opportunity, the ground work for which was laid with fruit and veggies.

I stroll on out and ask her, "Excuse me ma'am, but is that your husband standing there in the t-shirt and blue shorts (me pointing to the jerk with kid in hand)?" Surprised, confused, she says, "What?"

"I said, I'd like to know if that's your husband."

Cautiously and perhaps cringing at the thought of an unwanted come-on or insult, "Yes, why do you want to know?"

"Because my lady friend and I would appreciate it if he didn't follow her into the drug store into several isles towing your son, staring at her "features" and compliment her on how amazing her legs look, he made her very uncomfortable."

"Um, why don't you tell him that," she replies angrily. "Oh, I don't want to start any trouble," I lied, "I just thought you'd like to know." As she moves toward pops and Johnny, I calmly stroll back in, calculating that my coffee is just about perfect drinking temperature.

As I am recapping the outside-the-cafe tom-foolery to my gal, in comes MILF, laughing awkwardly, cowering and apologizing, "I'm SO sorry!" she says, "I just wanted to apologize, I am SO embarrassed."

Um Yea, no kidding!

"It's just that my husband just shaved his arms and legs, and he was talking about his legs, not yours."

"Ya know what," I wryly reply, "That sounds highly unlikely, but we'll just let this one go."

I know we can let it go, but I do wonder how the rest of their day went or if he'll continue chasing down gals to flirt with while out with his wife and son. And if she is that willing to buy that SHITE from him, little ole Johnny's gonna be eating pussy for breakfast as soon as he figures that one out.

Such an Idiot!

Passing by one of my coworker’s cubes, I see this picture from a distance. It looks like a wedding picture, so I ask, “May I have a look at that? Wow! You look beautiful. I really like your hair long like that,” I tell my attractive, middle aged, mid-length hair coworker. Mistake.

The next morning I hear her going off to our fellow coworkers about “if Peter doesn’t have anything nice to say…” and how she was up last night thinking about it, that she likes her hair as it is now. What a jerk I am.

So I ask Diddles, “What the F?” He says, “Look Peter, my wife will come up to me and say (pointing to herself), ‘How do I look?’” Diddles replies without much thought or hesitation, “Um, ya look fine.”

“WHAT!” she exclaims, “WHAT’s wrong, why do you think I’m so ugly?????”

I guess if he doesn’t do back flips, she’s not happy. I guess he should have said, “You look gorgeous, unbelievably sexy, I have to have you right now (in that old baggy t-shirt with the stain on it from that team building exercise you did for your old work several years ago)!” Can’t she look in the mirror and decide for herself how she looks? I mean he married her; he must like or even love how she looks. How will men ever be able to please women? And given the choice to try, it becomes clearer to understand why one may choose not to.

Take for example my buddy Izzo. He is no longer with his girlfriend; sweet, smart, athletic and cute though she is. So instead of hanging with her yesterday afternoon as I would have easily (stupidly?) chosen to do, after an epically fun and icy ride (i don't mean cold, I mean 3 inches of ice), he decides to go out with some idiot kid alcoholics. Mostly 21 year old boys who can’t believe they can now drink in public but also including a stick figured smoker gal with tight slacks and heals who says things like, “That turkey is SO cool, like amazing, you don’t even know!, I've never met a live turkey like that before”… to get plastered on wine and vodka with them. They were wine tasting, but at $10 a taste, some decided, “Let’s just go get a bottle of vodka.” Cut to the chase.

At least with that group, you don’t have to worry about offending or pleasing anyone. There must be some logic there. Apparently Izzo is smarter that he appeared yesterday.

It’s Just a Ride – Life, Death, and Tradition.

Traditions

What do you expect from yourself, your life, your future? How will you make that happen? Unmet expectations can be terribly painful and trying; exceeded ones joyous. Yesterday wrapped up 3 days of stellar riding in great weather with quality people. It’s official, Happy Hills SLO Training Camp (formerly known as Camp Peter Brown) is a local tradition. Expectations exceeded.

I love some of the traditions from cultures far away – celebrating the lives of lost love ones not by dressing in black and feeling bad for ourselves (necessary mourning notwithstanding – funerals and death need not be just about the pain of those still alive)... But by throwing parties in their honor thanking them for all they brought to our lives. The party can incorporate their favorite things – like a camping, dancing and drinking party for old Ed Abby in the desert southwest.

However, for the most part I am not big on traditions, not in my culture anyway. Fueling capitalism by buying gifts that people don’t need (or even want) to show you “care” on the anniversary of a religious figure’s birthday… for example. The more expensive the gift, the more you care? I’d rather show my friends and family they matter all year round through shared experiences, rather than exchanged pittances. I’d rather make them a meal, take them on a bike ride, backpacking, or to the dog park! I’d rather make them laugh. I like fun time with loved ones as much as the next guy. I am accustomed to the dysfunctional family gathering as it seems much more “normal” than a group of primates of shared inherited genetic molecules all getting along merrily. But I usually go for a long solo bike ride that morning. The roads are deliciously empty.

One of the ways to “build community” is to start a tradition and I am so proud to have begun one here in little SLO town. Communities and happiness have little to do with money. The GNP, GDP, consumer confidence and retail success are on the line this month, what ever will happen? Well, if measured by smiles and miles, the SLO Training Camp was a huge success. No dollars needed. With our newly rekindled SLO Criterium getting flack from short sighted and misguided downtown decision makers, next year maybe we can alert the local media and the downtown association to highlight some coverage – run a story, take some pictures as Happy Hills rolls out of town, surely to return. That way, the residents can see how a healthy, active lifestyle can be promoted in our town. The community can rally around cyclists and not let the closure of the a couple blocks of downtown streets for 1 day… be a reason to complain. Heaven forbid people have to park farther than right in front of a store, or maybe even walk, ride, or bus to downtown one day. We should dictate our own civic lives in the ideal gathering place, the city center. 100 riders, all together, looks impressive.

Happy Hills

Sure, there were folks who thought it was too fast, too slow, too hilly, not hilly enough, too short, too long – but that speaks much more to the big diverse peleton of 45-65 riders we had rolling happily (grumpily?) around the county than it does to dissatisfaction. I’d rather be all inclusive than too selective about who attends. I’d rather make fast people slow down in early December than give them a place to show off. Show me something in a race. Show me how you can help a teammate win, sacrifice. I think opportunities to split and rejoin the group by ability level keeps all happy. Fast folks go right and climb that steep biatch, if you’re taking it easy, follow them to the left and we’ll see you in an hour or two. I loved looking over my shoulder from the front and seeing the tail of the group cresting a quarter mile back as we reach top speed. I like giving relatively new riders a chance to ride with some of the best racers in the country in a large group, practicing their skills, gaining strength and endurance – all while seeing what a beautiful gem this Central Coast is. I like to see people making friends. I’d guess everyone, without exception, had some sore legs and happy hearts.

I cherish effort, the pace lifting, the pack growing quiet, concentrating, breathing, wondering how much farther to the top. How about the view from the top, worth it? The energy is literally palpable when a mob of happy, healthy, bundled hairless chimpanzees (been reading too much Jared Diamond lately – so convincing) roll around together hunched over two wheeled efficiencies transporting themselves while ensuring their own (and their planet’s) longevity. They could be riding to work, riding the kids to school, or riding to pick up something from the store. But they might just be riding because they love it. The wind is in their face and they feel alive, aware, awake.

But with NRC race winners and national champions riding along side weekend warriors through steep, challenging terrain – what can be gained? Experience has no substitute. What can be more beautiful than a cancer survivor riding beyond himself, knowing more than anyone else what it felt like to work hard, to face death, to live and to ride again? And while local doctors crack femurs descending sandy steep twisting mountains (Doc and Mrs. Collins were in GREAT spirits - morphine? He’ll be on the trainer soon, back to work in few weeks, and out on the ride by February) – who is to say what matters most in life? To each their own.

And lastly since no one read the description of the camp or route details (previous blog post below), next year’s invite will be short and sweet. It will look something like this…Comments and suggestions about this and future camps, more than welcome. Can’t wait to see ya at the 5^th annual.

Come ride for 3 days, Dec 5-7 – 2008 in Happy Hills San Luis Obispo. Bring warm clothes.

Day 1 – Leaving at 12 noon - 3-5 hour ride. UP the grade to Creston. All stay together. “B” Group – easy route back to SLO via O’Donovan and rollers on 58. “A” Group - via La Panza and 58.

Day 2 BIG DAY – Leaving at 8:30am, - 5-6 hours. Up the Coast to Cayucos. All stay together. Entire group climbs epic Hwy 46. “A” riders regroup at the top and are off to Peachy Canyon, Paso, Templeton, Atascadero and down the Grade. “B” riders regroup at top, and come down Old Creek, back the Coast home.

Day 3 – Leaving at 8:30am. Huasna Townsite out via Orcutt, back via 227. “A” group returns via Printz and La Teena, chasing back to “B” group on 227. Ride ends at Uptown Café.