100 Words - The Character

Where does the character end? Which is you and which is the persona you show the world? Do you even know anymore? The invention of a self which is not our self. Part real, part fantasy, part necessity. The whole equals less than the sum of its parts. It lacks authenticity. Is that a problem? Is reality all that important after all? No one thinks a movie is real. Plays are staged. No one thinks the bad guy is really a bad guy out here in the real world. Maybe it's OK to be a character in a reality show.

100 Words - The Professor

German in the best language for punk rock. Latin the best for impressing douche bags. So what's the difference? The professor on the train knows. He reads Kakfa in Latin and looks up every third word in his Latin to German dictionary. I would think that finding Kafka in German would be as easy as finding Kafka in Latin would be difficult, but the professor soldiers on. He's as afraid of crowds as I am, but he is passive where I am active. He stands and waits, I go upstream to the empty train, but we always end up together.

100 Words - Forget It

Not far from here there is another place that looks nothing like this place. It's amazing how often that happens. Sorry, I'm trying too hard to be clever. I've worn out my organic thoughts so I'm trying to invent an engaging world out of thin air. It's not working. Now I've fallen into the trap of writing about not being able to write. This crap is so trite they could publish it in The New Yorker. Oh God, such shame. Promise me you won't tell anyone I wrote this. Just move on, nothing to see here. Forgive me. Forget it.

100 Words - What Robots Know

The robots are out there. They're gathering their info. Someday soon they will know all they need to know. Not everything. Everything is infinity. At some point, unknown to us in here, but no doubt programmed into the robots, the circuits will click and the gathering will be finished. I can only assume that then the hunting will begin. They will find their way in here. We'll be trapped. There will be no escape as the soulless robots relentlessly tell us everything they have learned. Like an uncle's eternal taxidermy slide show. The weaker among us whisper prayers for death.

100 words - Give me your sadness

She cried till the ice cream melted then handed me a cup of her tears. I drank them. They were salty on my tongue. Thicker than water but thinner than blood. They seemed to congeal in my throat then spun down my esophagus as a single entity. The total of her sadness was in me. It invaded my stomach and flowed trough every wall, through every vein till it infected my entire body. I was a being of sadness. Her sadness. She smiled at me and touched my cheek. I fainted. I woke alone on the floor, my destiny fulfilled.

100 Words - Yo Yo

If I wanted to listen to heavy metal I would listen to heavy metal. So much of what they call heavy metal sounds like tin foil to me. The hair bands. What's the point? It was the past and now it isn't. Now it's what we, till recently, called the future. Plays on words. Tense about tense. Emotional yo-yos befitting a dick joke. Up, down, in, out. Insert masturbation metaphor here. Did I write that out loud? No, I keyed it gently in. Liquid crystals dancing into words. So fleeting. Like a proctologist's nurse. Why do I write these things?

100 Words - The Painting

The dirty old hippie pulled an old little red wagon. In the wagon was a weird painting that at first looked like nothing but green glow-in-the-dark paint but when you looked straight into it, like one of those magic eye pictures, you could see things. But unlike the magic eye pictures which have one hidden image this one had many layers and everyone who looked at it saw something different. The hippie said I could have it for the forty dollars he needed to buy heroin. I gave him the forty dollars. The painting hangs on my living room wall.

100 Words - Life on Film

I have a song stuck in my head, only I love this song and never want it to stop. It could be the soundtrack to my life. Like if people were watching a movie of my life this would be the background music. It sums up my moods throughout the stages of my life working backwards from the second verse being how I feel now through the fifth and final verse which was my childhood. I can only assume that the first verse will be my old age. If so, my life's film is four minutes and fifty-six seconds long.

100 Words - Incomplete Glory

Songs of love and incomplete glory. The metal flesh so inviting. Reach out and touch me when I sleep. Shivers of consciousness. Rolling away, pausing, understanding, rolling back into an awkward embrace. The fear of the pain that I will see but never feel. Distance allows a gentle kiss then pulls back. Walls leap to guard the crystal being. Electricity fades. A voice sings somewhere inside us both. A long high note of tragic beauty. The crystal body shudders. The voice holds just below the point of breaking then fades. The crystal is safe again. I roll over not sleeping.

100 Words - Context

Sometimes I feel like a nostril collecting words of snot in my fine little hairs waiting for the finger to come take the words away and put them down on paper somewhere. Other times the words stain the paper like blood flowing from the wounds in my self esteem.

"Writers of fiction." He spat the word fiction like it was a crime against humanity. He may not be wrong.

I built a tall tower with no foundation. Now it sinks into the swamp of my longing. Starting over and over, running in a circle of creative options. Defining without context.

Bike Project Updates

eBaby
I finally got the front deraileur working exactly to my liking. The breakthrough was to loosen the clamp and rotate it ever so slightly. The blades are now aligned perfectly. (Thanks to Sheldon Brown’s website for that tip.)

Glamour Puss
Managed to straighten the handlebars. The trick was that I had to loosen the headset and not just the bolt holding the handlebars on. That one I discovered on my own.

100 Words: Music Breathing

Music. Breathing. Another nightmare. Jesus save me from myself. Scary things in the dark. Hairy things crawling inside the walls. Things of my own unwanted invention. An accidental Frankenstein. Powers hidden unhidden, revealed to no one. It's all in my head, but that doesn't mean it isn't real.

Music. Breathing. Calm returns. The heart monitor stops beeping. I am safe again. The dreams will not take my life tonight. I've won another dawn. The rising sun floods my little room and warms my eyes. Off to a quiet sleep. Nightmares only happen behind cold eyes. Sunshine dreams have no fear.

100 words - Brewster's Fog

Walking slowly through Brewster's Fog, candy-flavored smoke swirling behind her, she pauses to check her reflection in the bike shop window. She frowns at the spokes across her wavy face and turns away. Voices from three floors above the pavement float down and whisper in her ear secrets muffled and garbled by height, wind and moisture. She closes her eyes and listens to the whispers believing what she doesn't understand. Footsteps in the distance set her in motion though she knows it's not him. His feet make no sound till they're running away from another slit throat. She walks away.

100 words(x3) - Roadvision

I have visions of a dirt road somewhere. I don't recognize it. There are few trees but they're green. There is no grass. The ground is dry but not sandy. It isn't a desert or farmland. The road is worn but not rutted. The sky is gray. The sun weak. The road slopes gently downward. I can see a long way. Just before the horizon the dirt road meets a paved road running diagonally across it. I can't tell if the dirt road continues after the intersection. I'm afraid of this road. It goes somewhere I don't want to go.

I find myself on a bike. Not an uncommon position for me. The dirt road beckons and cautions. I release the hand brake. The bike rolls. I squeeze the brake again. The bike stops. I am in control. I can stop this if I have to. For a moment I'm tempted to look back, to see what's behind me. To see what pursues me. Pushes me. I resist. To look back would be to wake up. Dreams, unwanted or not, will tolerate no safety net. I let go brake. I roll forward. Soon speed is upon me. Too much speed.

My heart races, threatening to explode. I sit light in the saddle. My arms and legs pump up and down with the ripples in the road. I'm not afraid, I'm exhilarated. I know that if I fell I would be awake before I hit the ground. With a violent jerk and twitch I am lying in my bed, my heart pounding, betrayed by the knowledge of safety. Only in danger can we find the truth. I breath deeply several times. Three seconds inhale. Six seconds exhale. I am calm again. I am sad again. Another dream wasted. Another road lost.

Bike Project Update - Schwinn Aerostar

A new bike! I picked it up on ebay for $10. I did some research before bidding and found that this is one of Schwinn's best 20" kids bikes. It sells for almost $200 new. The listing on eBay was very sparse and I don't think anyone else noticed that it was such a good little bike.

It doesn't need much work, mostly just cleaning and adjustments. The handlebars were crooked. The reflectors were crooked. The rear wheel was crooked. All easy fixes. The chain guard was bent out. That was also an easy fix, but there are some paint chips and bare spots. It may be hard to match the paint. The only tricky bit is the brake cable. It was bare in a few places and much too long. Also the gaskets where the cable goes through the frame are both loose and will need gluing.

Now comes the fun part. I have no little kids, and I would feel like a Grinch making money off little kids, so I decided to donate it to some charity. You'd think that would be simple enough. It's not. None of the community bike shops will take it because it's not up their standards. It actually is up to their standards but because it's a Schwinn they assume that it's a piece of junk from some big box store. So then I looked at other, non-bike-oriented, charities. They all want new. Used is no good to them.

So if you know some kid who wants/needs a free cool little bike covered with space stickers let me know. I still have some cleanup to do, but it will ready to go this weekend.

eBaby Update

With the handling problems sorted out the eBaby is finally in running condition. I took it over to the bike track in Golden Gate Park for its first speed test. It went OK and despite a strong wind I did a 5K averaging 17.9 MPH. That's a full MPH faster than my best on the Lambo, which was done on a day with no wind.

There were a few issues. I'm still about twenty pounds or so away from being able to get in a more aerodynamic position without my knees hitting my gut on every stroke. I'm also several months or more away from having legs strong enough to use the higher gears. I only managed to get through the first 12 of the 18 available gears.

So between my big gut, weak legs and overworked heart it looks like my goal of doing a race or two in 2012 will have to wait till 2013.

Bike Project Updates

The ebaby - The new headset came. I installed it and it did solve the handling problem. I also had to shorten the chain because the rear derailer wasn't being pulled enough to work properly for certain gear combinations. I took it for another test ride and everything worked hunky dory. As I feared though, the bike is much faster than I am. With the front gears in high I'm only able to pedal up to third gear, of nine, in the back. Need to build those legs up.

The Lambo - Noticed that the headset has worked itself a little loose. Now I have to research how to adjust a threaded headset. (The eBaby has an unthreaded headset.)

The next project - I nearly got a funky mountain bike off eBay for $9.99. I was outbid with 10 seconds to go, then that person was outbid with 2 seconds to go. It sold for a whole $26. Too rich for my blood.

Cycling goals for 2011 - A bad bout of gout has me behind my hoped-for mileage for the month. I'm up to 775 miles out of the 1000 so there's no need for panic yet, but daylight savings ends soon so I loose the commuting miles.

50 Words

Saturday night in Terminus. The sky is falling and the temperature is rising. Dirt roads beckon but gates deny. Dead ends and angry sheep. Truck washes and owls at dusk. The foot swells and hurts more. The machine is untrusted and out of its element. Tweeks are needed. Promises unfulfilled.

Bikes in the News - 9/28

Bicycle manufacturing facility coming to North Portland
Bike Portland - 9/28/11
By mid-October, a new company called Zen Bicycle Fabrication will be the latest addition to Portland's always-growing bicycle industry.

Fixed-Gear Bicycles are an American Fixture in Paris
New York Times - 9/28/11
Suddenly, fixies — the finicky one-speed bikes that, without freewheels, cannot coast — seem to be everywhere: on the cobblestones of the Marais, the boulevards of the Latin Quarter, the north slope of Montmartre.

Swede bike lane proposed, with parking still allowed most hours
Our Midland - 9/28/11
After months of discussion, the Midland Planning Commission has recommended adding a bicycle lane to Swede Avenue from Wackerly Street to Patrick Road with partial parking restrictions.
(A cool idea for a compromised bike lane.)

Overcrowded Westmount Bike Path Become Safety Hazard Group
Montreal Gazette - 9/28/11
The two-way de Maisonneuve bike path that traverses Westmount should be changed to a one-way bike lane running westward, with eastbound cyclists diverted onto Ste. Catherine St. W., says a citizens advocacy group.
(An overcrowded bike lane? Such a problem.)

Writing Update

Not much to report. After a long black void I am slowly getting back to the desk. Not overly productive yet, but I'm daydreaming alot lately which for me is the first step of the writing process. So things are looking up.

I'm also starting to think about doing the Novel in a Month thing in November. Just a few week ago the thought of it made me cringe but now I think it might be possible again.

Bike Project Updates

I've been busy working on the bikes lately so I thought I'd give you all an update.

The Lambo - Most importantly the Schwalbe tires and tubes have done their job and it's been many months since I had a flat. I've also gotten better at getting the Shimano Tourney drivetrain into tune. The front shifts into first almost every time now and the rear now upshifts into fourt just fine, though downshifting requires a trip to third first.

The ebaby - After a long time I finally got around to finishing the big project. The great day of the test ride finally came and it scared me to death. I didn't know that a bike could handle that badly. Well, some research and many adjustments later it is nearly rideable. I managed to damage the headset so I had to order another. When it comes I am 73% sure that all the handling issues will be corrected.

Foldy - At a yard sale I bought this folding mountain bike in need of some TLC. I paid too much, $75, but it was perfect for taking in the RV so I bought it. Turns out all it needed was some new tubes and a tuneup. Unfortunately I managed to ride it less than a mile before the RV, and within it the folding bike, got stolen. Ah well.

Cycling goals for 2011 - Slow progress has pushed most of my earlier goals to next year, but one is still on track. I'm trying to ride 1000 miles in 2011. So far I've gone 740 miles. That means I need less than 100 miles a month.

The next project - I'm looking for something I can work on and funkify. Got a crappy bike sitting in your garage or cellar that you're not using? Drop me a note and I'll haul it away free of charge. (Aren't I nice?)

Bikes in the News

A new semi-daily roundup of news from the cycling world. Mostly it's a way to practice my editorial skills.

Volunteers gather to grow local bike train movement
Bike Portland - 9/27/11
Portland's grassroots movement to get kids and families to hop aboard school "bike trains" continues to grow. Last night 15 schools were represented at the second annual Bike Train Meet Up. That's quite a jump from the four schools that were a part of a similar gathering last year.
(A great idea. I always feel safer on Market Street when surrounded by other cyclists.)

Bike Lane Opponents File Appeal in Prospect Park West Lawsuit
Streets Blog - 9/27/11
Opponents of the Prospect Park West bike lane filed an appeal in their unsuccessful lawsuit against the city yesterday, hoping for a second chance to rip out the safety-enhancing redesign or, perhaps more likely, attract a few more months of headlines.
(This is part of the ongoing fight over bike lanes in NYC.)

The era of e-bikes is upon us
MSNBC - 9/27/11
E-bikes look and operate similar to their traditional pedal-powered equivalents, but contain a battery-powered motor that kicks on when, for example, pedaling up a menacing hill.

Arizona Cycling Wind Tunnel Unveiled Oct. 1
Bicycle Retailer and Industry News - 9/26/11
Faster, a combination retail and training facility whose features include a cycling-specific wind tunnel, will have its grand opening Oct. 1.
(A bike wind tunnel! Cool!)

The fourth enemy

Feeling fatigued. Blood sugar normal. Blood pressure a bit high. Conclusion, dehydration. Once upon a time I didn't have to monitor my body. Didn't have to be constantly aware of the key measurables. I was, what do they call it, oh yes, young. Before the gout. Before the asthma. Before the diabetes. Before the 40 years of unhealthy living began to take it's toll. It was a simple life. Obviously not a life well planned or maintained, but simple nonetheless. Then the 40's came. First glance of the final enemy, old age. The only enemy that will never know defeat.

No Fame Please

Now that I'm writing again I've come up an interesting conflict. I've come to realize that I don't want to be famous. Of course many people who have read my writing would argue that fame isn't something I need to worry about. Writing is my hobby. While I want people to read my works, and give me an honest opinion, I am really just writing for myself.

Some argue that my attitude is a cop-out. Saying that I don't want fame as a way of rationalizing my lack of success. Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm just too much of a coward to take on the responsibility of fame. If I write a book and it's a huge success and I go on all the talk shows, then what? Then I have to write a better book or all those people will say I let them down. I've already learned that if I feel like I have to write something it looses its joy and joyless words interest me not.

Besides, have you ever met a happy famous person? I met one, but that was Paul Newman. Every other person I've met who appeared anywhere on the scale of fame was either an emotional basket case, a total asshole or in some cases both. In my most recent encounter with fame was on the N-Judah streetcar. This guy got on that I recognized from a TV show I recently watched. He strutted down the aisle looking from side-to-side for any sign of recognition. When he got none he frowned and slumped into a seat. His claim to fame? He's a finalist on American Ninja Warrior. Obviously the world should be at his feet.

Carlos Castenada wrote about power, warning to be careful because most people do not wield their power but rather are ruled by their power. Look at Donald Trump. His power has destroyed all that was once human in him.

So without fame how do we measure our success? I have a wonderful family. A funky roof over my head. Dogs to keep my lap warm. Bike rides in the park. What more could I want?

Writing Again

I haven't written in a long time. It's OK. It's not OK. It's both. Circumstances and brain chemistry removed my desire for creation. Floating in a purgatorial funk for many months. I can't call it writer's block because that implies that I was trying to write but couldn't. I wasn't trying to write. I wasn't even upset with myself for not wanting to write. It was OK to not want to write. Perhaps my writing time had passed.

Deep down I knew it wasn't OK. I felt that if I let this go that something within me would die and it could never come back. Life couldn't be the contented void that I saw stretching out before me. Then I went to see my doctor for my annual physical. After the usual pleasantries and standard medical inquiries she started asking me odd questions. I answered the best I could, not knowing where she was leading. Then she asked me outright if I thought I was depressed. I told he no, because I wasn't feeling sad. She pointed out that my answers to her questions pointed to an overwhelming apathy. As someone once said, the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference.

So after two months of medicinal trial-and-error fraught with a staggering array of side-effects, I suddenly find myself not only desiring to write, but actually writing. The words look so beautiful forming themselves on the page. My fingers dance over they keyboard like the embrace of a long lost lover. Better living through chemistry.

Tom Hits the Track

One day I was sitting at my computer, Pat was at hers, when she asked me if I would be interested in a racing school at Stockton Speedway. I told I would, but doubted we could afford it. She told me that she had a half-off coupon. I jumped up and trotted over to her computer to see.

So a month later we make the trek to Stockton. We got there early and got to look around town some. This is not an activity I would recommend, unless you have a strong desire to have a drink in one Stockton's several structurally unsound bars.

So finally it was time to head to the track. Got all checked it and suited up. Pat and Tonya took their place in the stands to watch. Then I stood around for nearly an hour waiting for my class to start. The people running the show seemed to have no actual plan and several employees ran around doing all the work while several other stood around chatting.

Finally the called my group. We all piled into the pace car, or rather pace SUV, for a tour of the track. This was not an entirely pleasant experience. The SUV had a frightening amount of body role and the majority of the time the guy at the wheel, our instructor, was busy yelling at the cars being paced.

Finally the cars were paced to satisfaction and we were dropped off at the outdoor classroom. Where we sat for a long time while the instructor went and paced a few more groups. Finally he came over and gave us about fifteen minutes on the theory of cornering and instruction on the odd gearbox which consists of two levers, one for first and reverse and the other for second and third. Fortunately, once you get moving you leave it in third so that got rid of my shifting anxiety.

Then is was time for the ride-along with the professional driver. Actually it was time to stand around for quite a long time waiting to be picked at random for the ride-along. I finally got tired of waiting and put myself in the face of the pit manager and got put in a car.

The first thing I noticed was that I couldn't see anything. The seat was so low that I couldn't see the front, back or side of the car. Then we were off, and I do mean off. The speed was surreal. It was pretty frightening to see the wall rushing by the window and the corner leaping towards you up front. At the same time though, there was no real drama going on. The pro driver was moving like he was on a relaxing drive in the country, and the car had no body roll at all and there was never a peep from the tires. The four laps went by very quickly. I was left feeling very intimidated.

Then there was another wait. But finally my name was called and I was assigned to car number 1. Always a good sign. I got strapped in and sat waiting while the others got their belts adjusted. Surprisingly, sitting in the car was comforting. I was still scared though. First there was the lingering memory of the ride-along. Also, I hadn't driven a standard transmission car in several years. I was praying that I didn't stall it out and look like a fool.

Finally we got the order to start engines. The monster fired right up. Then I got waved forward. I pushed in the clutch, put it in first, let out the clutch and the car rolled forward without incident. Then as I approached the gate to the tack I was warned not to hit right wall, which I could not see. I steered slightly left and entered the track, apparently missing the wall. I took my place behind the pace SUV and waited for the others.

We ran the pace laps and did the passing drills, which was comforting, because now I knew that if I was in anyone's way, the flagman would tell me to pull over and let them pass. I worried less about going too slow.

Then the pace car pulled off and the green flag waved and the car in front of me barely accelerated. After a couple corners the flagman had him pull over to let me by. I went by and let the engine roar for the first time. It was surprisingly easy. Then next few laps I pressed a little harder and went much faster. I was amazed at the power of the brakes.

Then I came quickly upon another car and it took half a lap to get past him. A lap later I had to wait for another car to get out of my way. i had now passed all the other cars on the track. The ego took over. I pushed harder and found it no harder to slow it down for the corner. Each lap I pushed harder and went faster. Then I got caught behind a slower car. It was the one I passed on lap two. Two more quick laps and I got caught behind the other two cars going quite slowly. This time though the flagman didn't move them over. Turns out the session was almost over so I was stuck for another lap and a half till we pulled into the pits.

Broke Down on Kindle

Yes, my latest novel, Broke Down on the Road to Glory, is now available for the Kindle for a mere 99 cents. How come it's so much cheaper than the print book? No dead trees!

I'm starting to warm up to this e-book concept. Being a closet tree-hugger I like the idea of killing fewer trees, but I also like being able to charge so much less for my books. That may sound weird, but being a relatively new writer I feel uncomfortable asking people to cough up ten bucks to read my stuff. But at less than a buck for the e-version, if they don't like it they're just out the cost of a single Krispy Kream.

On the other hand, 99 cents is about average for what I pay for books anyhow. The vast majority of my reading consumption comes from Goodwill and library books sales. I'm a cheap reader so I can only expect that my target audience are also cheap readers.

I guess now though I'll have to break down and buy one of the Kindle things for myself. Maybe finally get around to reading all those Project Gutenburg books I've been meaning to read.

http://www.amazon.com/Broke-Down-Road-Glory-ebook/dp/B004TNGLC0/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

100 Words

There was nothing good on the radio the night that Spider left. He didn't mean to leave. He just wanted to get out and do something. He circled town twice and found nothing to do that he hadn't already done one too many times. The bars were full of people he'd already met. The movies he'd seen. The bands he'd heard. So he aimed the car west. He drove and drove till he came to a new town. Went into a new bar. Heard a new band. Met new people. Three years later, nothing on TV, he headed west again.

A Splinter In My Mind

Somewhere among longing, desire and addiction there is writing. A disease. A mental illness. The arrogant belief that people will care to read whatever words my fingers happen to spit onto the page. The hubris of it all.

There are better things to be doing. There is a Harry Potter marathon on TV. There is a racing bike that needs its wheels put together. There is a pile of cardboard that needs to go to the recycling center. But no. I have a thought. It must be recorded. Everything must stop and wait while I make another feeble attempt at immortality.

I shut off the TV, put my headphones on and tune the internet radio program to the goth-industrial-techno music that keeps me pumped up with its beat without the distraction of any intelligible lyrics. The idea is transferred through the fingers and the keyboard onto the virtual page. Seeing my idea transformed into letters and words relieves the awful itch in my brain. I have written. I have conquered thought.

I save the file in the "use later" folder along with all the other stuff I simply had to write down at the time. All the stuff I still believe I will some day find a use for, find an audience for. Someone must want to read this.

Major Disappointment

I finally got around to going to the bike shop today and bought all the grease and lube and stuff to make my bike all running smooth and everything. Then when I got home there was the box holding my bar end shifters. This would, barring any other surprises, be the last parts I would need. No more excuses, time to finish the build. I tore into the box and unwrapped something else. It wasn't my shifters! It was some other shifter parts for a flat handle bar.

A quick look at eBay showed me that the guy I bought the shifters from had also sold what I had gotten in the mail to someone else. I can only assume that person has my shifters. A simple mistake and I'm sure the seller will make good, but still, major disappointment!

A Minor Failure

Last week I saw a scene of amazing passion, anger and righteous outrage. I've spent a week trying to recreate with the written word the facts and emotions of that moment. I spent countless hours typing and retyping. Rearranging adjectives and adverbs. Exploring the bounds of description, from straight reporting to metaphor glutted hyperbole. I have failed miserably. The faces, the voices and the invisible energy that drove and colored the moment haunt my words but will not manifest themselves. I am emasculated by this failure. One scene, one moment has wrestled by creativity to the ground. I must surrender.

My first Bike Build - OOPS!

The aero bars don't fit. Well, to be accurate, the mounts are setup for a thinner handlebar. The handlebars I got bulge in the middle where the stem is mounted. I got these because they are what I got. I didn't really plan anything beyond making the numbers match and unfortunately the aero bars didn't have any numbers. Fortunately, it looks like all I need is some longer screws and perhaps some stiff plastic spacers. TO THE BIKE SHOP!

UPDATE

Well, the trip to the bike shop didn't help. Longer screws alone won't do it, so I either need to get thinner handlebars or a $50 dollar fit kit that will add three to four pounds. With my weight I don't think the thinner handlebars are a good idea. The fit kit looks really kludgey and I'm not sure that saving the aero bars is worth it. I did some research on the internet and think the best solution is to get a pair of bar end shifters. That will simplify things without too much additional cost. You can get new Shimano bar end shifters online for $56, so they should go for half that or so on eBay.

UPDATE 2

People who buy stuff on eBay are nuts. They are paying more for used bar end shifters than what new ones cost. Same model numbers and all. It makes no sense. I may have to buy new ones. Oh the shame.

Tinker Toys are not Lincoln Logs

This thought came to me during the third hour of the second day of a two day project planning session. Yes, two full days, one right after the other, sitting in a conference room, planning. Pity me hard buckos.

So which am I and/or my writing, Tinker Toy or Lincoln Log? You can build a much wider variety of things with Tinker Toys, but you can build much more realistic things with Lincoln logs, as long as you stick to the log cabin milieu.

I've thought about it and I find that my writing is more like Tinker Toys. Vivid in imagination but somewhat lacking in definition. On the other hand, I find the idea of Lincoln Loggish writing to be over-planned and limiting. Looks like I'm just going to have to switch to Legos.

My First Bike Build - The Mockup Begins

This is going surprisingly well. I need many fewer bits of hardware than I expected. The derailleurs went on with no problems. The bottom bracket fits. The seat actually does become much more rigid when attached to the seat post and the seat post fits into the whole and tightened up nicely. With seat and derailleurs attached it's actually starting to look like it might be a real bike by the time I'm done with it.

Next I put together the cranks, chain rings and bottom bracket. It all went together no problem. The black inner chain ring looks wonderfully out of place among all that chrome.

Then I started on the handlebars. The stem went on on the second attempt, the first attempt having failed because I had the thing backwards. Then came the first problem. (And I was doing so well!)

The aero bars don't fit. Well, to be accurate, the mounts are setup for a thinner handlebar. The handlebars I got bulge in the middle where the stem is mounted. I got these because they are what I got. I didn't really plan anything beyond making the numbers match and unfortunately the aero bars didn't have any numbers. Fortunately, it looks like all I need is some longer screws and perhaps some stiff plastic spacers. TO THE BIKE SHOP!

Three Chapters of Forgiveness

I read a lot of crap. After several years on a diet of books from the shelves of the local Goodwill stores I've run through most of the authors whose names I recognize. So I'm forced to experiment. There have been some wonderful surprises, many that were just OK, and several that made me wonder how such a book every made it to print. Lately I've had a string of the baddies. Two books in a row I was unable to finish. Both were abandoned half way through chapter four.

I have this rule, which I didn't realize I had till just this week. I can overlook just about any flaw for the first three chapters of a book, but if chapter four sucks, forget it. This rule became obvious to me with my current read. It's from the middle of a detective series I hadn't heard of, and the first three chapters were pretty bad. Endless tracks of exposition about back stories and settings and relationships. It was pretty dull and the setup for the crimes to come were obvious and cliched. I nearly didn't start chapter four, but I gave it one more chance and I'm glad I did. The whole tone and pacing of the book has changed for the better. It's as if the writers, a husband and wife team, took a collective deep breath after getting all the housekeeping out of the way and settled in to the meat of the writing.

So when you're spending about a buck a book, remember, there's a reason that book is on the thrift store shelf. Give it a break and wait at least three-and-a-half chapters before contributing it to your composter. You may be glad you did.

Free Books – Reviews Needed

I have ten copies of my novel, Broke Down on the Road to Glory, available for free. All you need to do is promise to post a review of the book on Amazon, or some other site with book reviews. The reviews should be honest. I'm not afraid of criticism. How else will I learn?

Just email me your name and address and the first ten requests I get will get a book.

Note: Sorry, relatives are not eligible.

Bike build - next phase

I have all the parts. I have all the tools. I've read all the instructions. Now all I have to do is put it all together. But now, at this new phase of the project, I hesitate. I doubt. Can I really do this? Who know, but I have to try.

I have developed this weird sense of responsibility for the bike. Not for the pile of parts it is now, but for the bike as whole that I am trying build. It has the potential to be a great bike. The parts are all good, capable of doing their jobs well. I am the weak link. Can I extract from these parts as good a bike as it deserves to be?

It's time to see.

I'm building a bike

I've always wanted to build a vehicle from parts. From my first encounter with the J.C. Whitney catalog I dreamed of hand-picking the best parts and putting together a killer hot rod. Unfortunately the lack of cash, tools, a garage and mechanical ability prevented this dream from happening.

Now I'm older and wiser and have scaled back my ambition to a reasonable level. So I'm building a vehicle from nothing but parts. A vehicle with two wheels and pedals. I am going to have the coolest hunk of cycling junk you have ever seen.

All the parts have been scrounged off eBay or ordered from the on-line bike discount stores. I bought all the special bike tools. I'm staking out a space to lay down the tarp and start putting it all together.

I'll update you all when I start getting it all together.