June 29, 2010: Does This Mean I'm an Environmentalist?

I ride a bike to work as often as I can motivate myself to do it, my other ride gets almost 40 mpg, and when forced by circumstances beyond my control, I take public transportation. My transportation alone already makes me "greener" than the average self-congratulatory environmentalist, but I realized as I sat down to eat tonight that my dinner surely must put me over the top into the greener-than-green-people camp.  Everything on my plate tonight came from within a mile of my house, and I didn't have to limit myself to crunching on vegetables while deluding myself into believing my green crunchies were a complete meal. What's the lesson then? Perhaps it's that environmentalism is a religion as much as a lifestyle and that the reality is that adherents of that religion actually share more lifestyle choices with those who reject it than either group would think.  They just attach different labels to those choices (e.g., "green" vs. fresh, tasty and healthy) and make them for different reasons. Some eat local to serve at Gaia's feet while some do the same thing, albeit with a higher protein intake, simply because they prefer the taste and enjoy the satisfaction of being able to provide for themselves. ACBCS. I think the two groups should just be friends and share vegetables with each other.

June 27, 2010: Crappy Blackberry Camera, Pointless Post

This was supposed to be a picture of my spray rash from waterskiing yesterday, but you can't even see the bruising, because my blackberry's camera sucks. The higher on the leg the bruise, the lower the leg was in the water in your off-side turn. (My bruise is not very high except for a small one I must have gotten from just a few aggressive turns. Now if I could just quit popping wheelies so bad.)

June 26, 2010: Waterskiing is More Awesome Than Watching Soccer on TV

My plan for the day was to take advantage of the wife, kids, and even the dog being out of town by doing some much needed organizing in our bedroom while watching World Cup soccer. My friends saved me from that sad plan. Waterskiing and spending time on the water with friends beats TV soccer any day. Thanks!

June 19, 2010: Woods, Ticks, and Fall Plans

I took my boy out Saturday morning to a little 5 acre plot I lucked into a while ago to scout it out for some October recreation.  It's surrounded by about 350 acres of woods, so even if it's only a small piece of land, it's in the middle of a suburban wildlife magnet.  It happens also to be a tick magnet, and this year in NoVA is worse than any I've seen since I arrived to the area.  We did a tick check as soon as we got home and found a grand total of 15 between the two of us.  Most of them were in our clothes or still crawling around looking for a warm meal, but still, 15!!  Yesterday, the boy came to me and said, "Dad, I have a bump on my head, and I think it's a tick."  Yup, make that 16.  Nasty.  Stuff like that makes me want to flee back to the [supposedly] wild west--where I never saw a tick despite spending the majority of the summer outside.  At least we got to see a wild turtle sitting in the woods munching on a big mushroom.  L thought that was pretty cool.

June 16, 2010: Is It Awesome?

I happened upon a great philosophy for guiding life's decisions this week.  It was a quote from a powerlifter who does an occasional column on a fitness website I follow.  It's basic, it's meatheaded, and it's genius.  "Is what I'm doing awesome?  If I ask myself that and the answer is no, then I don't do it."  So, to steal his example: jogging on a treadmill, definitely NOT awesome; running hills, awesome.  "Of course, geeks like to bust my chops with questions like, 'how do I even know if something is awesome or not?'  My answer is if you're so freaking unsure that you have to ask someone his or her opinion then the answer is that it's probably not the least bit awesome."

I applied this creed to my life this morning.  Rain was predicted, so I wasn't going to ride my motorcycle.  Jump on the metro with every other working stiff in DC?  That's not awesome; I think I'll bike.  So I felt pretty smug--after eight years in the DC area, I've finally outsmarted the oppressive commute.  Most days, I cruise into town at 80 mph in the carpool lanes on an obnoxiously loud motorcycle, zooming past everyone stuck in a ten-mile long traffic jam all the way into the city.  Awesome.  On the days I opt against the motorcycle, I'll pedal to work, getting a workout while everyone who isn't stuck in traffic is stuck together like sardines in a can on the metro.  And my pedaling commute takes the same time as a commute on metro.  That's awesome.  Lycra biking shorts?  They're the sporting world's equivalent of pantyhose.  Definitely not awesome, but sometimes we have to accept some small lame stuff in our quest for the larger goal of awesomeness. 

June 15, 2010: Triumph Speed Triple

The red bike behind this one is mine, but I had to snap a quick pic of this Triumph Speed Triple dressed in matte black.  If one like that could be had for the price I paid for my bike, I might have ended up with one.  I don't know how the shorter wheelbase would feel in the car pool lanes, but I can guarantee that this thing would be a lot more fun than my bike if I had a curvier commute!  I just think these things are sexy.  It looks like little more than a motor and two wheels, emphasizing the essence of what a motorcycle truly is.  I wax poetic at the thought.  Blame my uncle Danny, who got me started when I was probably only 6 years old.  He took me for a ride that would land anyone in jail today--helmetless, sitting on the gas tank because I was too small to sit on the back and reach the passenger pegs, gripping the middle of the handlebars for dear life.  I remember him laughing in his high-pitched laugh as he accelerated.  I was terrified, and I could be wrong, but I could have sworn I saw the front wheel come off the ground.  I think I was hooked on motorcycles from the moment I got off the bike.  Ironically, as much as I like them, at the end of the day, I really don't disagree with my physical therapist dad's reasons for hating bikes.