Late Sunday Afternoon...

(Image from Aeolus Aerospace)

I drove down to Tom's new shop on Cherry Street yesterday. He had a Velocity 700c rim drilled for 40 spokes that he'd ordered for me two weeks ago. This is a moderately deep-V rim and with 40 spokes laced to an old Sturmey-Archer AW hub, it should be nearly bulletproof in my commuter bike, fully capable of standing up to Ed's Vertical Crush Test. I have a few bundles of spokes out in the garage (somewhere). I'll have to find them and run the numbers through a spoke length calculator.

Going home, I went east on 11^th Street. A lone cyclist was going west, grinding up hill in the tire track of the right-hand lane. “He obviously knows what he's doing,” I thought. “I might know this guy.” It was Brian Potter, one of our local LCIs! I passed him, then turned around in a parking lot. I caught up to him and slowed. He turned to look, prepared to shout something scathing at another idiot motorist, and then realized it wasn't just another everyday idiot. “Hey! Pull over!” I yelled.

We stopped in a side street and had a long chat about some of the issues facing the advocacy group, including the upcoming streets meeting planned for tomorrow. Brian is planning to attend. We shared some of our frustrations and Brian pointed out that I may have an anger management problem when I said that so-and-so “really needed to be bitch-slapped in a very public way”. I don't regret doing it, either. Maybe that has something to do with having kids. Not that I'd be intentionally mean or abusive, mind you, but that I don't hesitate to discipline them when it's warranted.

While Brian and I were talking, Mary called. We didn't go to Tulsa Friday evening, and I thought that worked out well since we tried that new Chinese restaurant and liked it. But here it was Saturday morning and I was in Tulsa without her. I could feel the frost coming through the phone. I thought I was being nice by allowing her to sleep in a quiet house since the kids were at work and I was away, but I was wrong. I tried to explain this to Number One Son by saying, “When we argue with women, we're wrong most of the time, even when we're not.” He has a hard time understanding that basic concept. Grasshopper has much to learn.

Tonight, Mary and Lyndsay are out shopping, doing some mom-and-daughter time together. It's important for them. But they'll probably go for dinner too, so Jordan and I have to fend for ourselves. We're having shells with marinara sauce, Parmesan/garlic bread, and some cheesecake for dessert. I'm chief cook and bottle washer because there was some difference of opinion as to whether he'd have to eat my cooking or I'd have to eat his. I'm still bigger than him so I won – this time. The joy of this is that there will be plenty of leftovers, perfect for my lunch tomorrow.