Wednesday Musette

The Header...

In all honesty, I should change the 'all weather cyclist' header at the top of the page because for the last several months I've been only an occasional cyclist. My knee still hurts and I'm afraid to do more damage by riding in the cold. Sure, I could go see the doctor and say, "Doc, it hurts when I do this."

His reply would be, "Then don't do that!" And it would cost me about a hundred dollars for his common-sense advice.

Or it could be worse - he would order x-rays, CAT scans, dubious orthopedic devices from the Marquis DeSade Medical Supply Company, and numerous strangers would poke and prod my knee, saying, "Hmmmmm" in profound ways. They'd tell me to avoid riding, jumping, running, twisting, or putting down ceramic tile on the remaining floors. Then they'd send a bill to my insurance company and I could fight with them for months about it.

Why do I get the uneasy feeling that if government takes over health care it won't be much of an improvement?


More boring news about flooring...

Now, despite the knee pain, I'll continue working on our floors once the weather breaks. I have a great incentive. Mary and I were preparing dinner in the kitchen last night. Right out of the blue, she said, "You know, I really like this floor."

I made a lot of mistakes tiling the kitchen, but she doesn't see that. She's just happy to have it, and if there's one thing I've learned very well about marital bliss, it's Keep Mama Happy. I'll forego cycling to get the floors done and I'll do it happily.


Ice and snow...

We're in the middle of a typical Oklahoma winter blast - a few days of arctic cold followed by a rapid thaw. This is much different from a winter in western Pennsylvania, where temperatures dropped below freezing at Christmas and didn't change until March. That's a slight exaggeration, of course. But here in Oklahoma, we can have near record highs one day, followed by a precipitious drop to well below freezing. I often wonder how pioneers survived such rapidly changing conditions.

When I left work on Monday, we had freezing rain. The roads and sidewalks looked uniformly wet, but that served to disguise patches of ice. The car danced around a few times on the way home. For most of the trip I had no problems. I was wary enough to avoid walking on the driveway, preferring the better footing offered by the yard with its bed of pine needles. But I had to cross the sidewalk to reach the porch and that single step was costly. I started to fall, then caught my balance quickly. In doing so, I managed to wrench my right knee - again - and felt a sudden pain right above the patella. This is the problem area that's given me fits for the last several months.

Oh, joy.

Feral kittens...

Back around Thanksgiving, we captured some feral kittens. Mary lured them into the house one at a time over the course of a week. Three have tamed down fairly well while one is still extremely wary. We need to place them soon.



The short haired tabby is the most gentle. In the photo above, he has his face in the food bowl. Mary dubbed him 'Shadow' because he follows her around in the house. The two long haired tabbys - both gray - are more typical. When they want attention they'll let you know. Otherwise, go away. The orange tabby isn't ready to be placed. He's just too afraid of people yet.

Collectively, I refer to them as the Wild Bunch. They're fur-covered eating machines who will devour cat food, dog food, sandwiches, pretzels, and potato chips with total abandon. All food must be guarded from the feline menace. If one of them drank beer, it could stay. (That earned me the Very Stern Look from She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed!) Also, they've learned that if my keys jingle, it means the laser pointer is about to appear. They come running, even if they were asleep, and start looking on the floor for the red dot. I've been very, very tempted to run that red dot across Jordan's bed when he sleeps in late, but that would be wrong. Probably. But it would be funny! And wrong, definitely wrong maybe.

Want a kitten? I'll mail it to you.


Management 101...

My employer 'lost' $2.1 billion (that's BILLION, with a B) in 2008. And I say 'lost' because I once had a boss who said, "There are two kinds of accountants, honest ones, and very good ones." On the same day as the announcement of the loss, they also said that upper management would be receiving stock bonuses, though those bonuses would be reduced.

I could apply this same principle at home. "Son, I know you want to go to the movies tonight, but you still haven't done your chores. I was planning to give you $25 dollars, but since you've shirked your work, I'll only give you $20. I hope you've learned your lesson."

That'll show 'em!

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Coasting is a pernicious habit...

...with apologies to Sheldon Brown who coined the phrase first.

I didn't ride all last week because of knee problems, and I thought it would be beneficial to avoid the fixed gear when I started up again. So yesterday afternoon, I worked on the Bianchi to get it ready for the morning commute. It needed new dérailleur cables and a replacement saddle. The ancient Sella San Marco Strada was falling apart. I toyed with the idea of putting a Brooks Pro on it, but the two I have are both in use on the fixed gear bikes. So I dug out an equally ancient Concour that had seen little use. It's comfortable on short hauls, but I'll reserve judgment on it's suitability for longer rides.

The morning found me frazzled and disorganized. Usually I set out my things the night before, so it's a no-brainer in the pre-dawn darkness. And I did some of that last night. But the brain was coffee deprived and it missed some things. I go through a checklist. Lights? Water bottle? Work ID? Pannier? The problem this morning was that I seldom carry a messenger bag, but I'd brought my laptop home on Friday and I needed to transport it back to work. I was almost a mile from home before I realized the error.

Fortunately, I had plenty of time. I went back to the house – to the delight of the cats, who thought they'd get a second breakfast – grabbed the messenger bag and took off again. Coasting down the hill felt odd. It was cold, for one thing, because I was riding faster than I normally do, and the speed was high enough to over-reach my little headlight. But I know where the potholes are, so it wasn't too dangerous.

The Bianchi felt odd, though. It's been out of service since September of last year. I installed a new headset over the winter and did some minor repairs. The old headset was brindled, making the steering very notchy. But after riding the Centurion fixed gear all winter, the position and handling of the Bianchi seemed foreign. This is a little bit strange since I've always thought of that bike almost as a comfortable old chair.

And it coasts!

Coasting feels weird too. The first time I did it, my legs responded with, “What are you doing!” I almost expected that sudden kick as the pedals kept trying to turn. Coasting is very strange after riding a fixed gear for six months.

I tend to mash big gears when I'm on the Bianchi, but with the recent knee problems as a reminder, I stayed in a smallish gear in order to spin easily. It felt like a slow trip to work. I didn't reset the bike computer, so I can't put any numbers to it. My main concern was avoiding further injury. I even wore a neoprene Ace bandage over my tights. It was black-on-black so I didn't commit an unforgivable fashion faux pas. Despite temperatures in the low 40s, I arrived at work with a sweaty, damp knee. Those neoprene bandages are meant to retain heat and increase circulation, so it performed as advertised. Imagine what a thin neoprene vest would do.

That left knee worked OK on the morning commute. I avoided pushing hard, as I said up above. The ride home is longer and includes nearly a mile of climbing, so I intend to take it easy. Who knows, maybe I'll even use the granny gear.

(And I did need that granny gear!)

Saturday Musette...

Squeaker...

A couple of weeks ago as I rode along a 4-lane boulevard, there was a guy on a bike riding along the sidewalk up ahead. Now, I say 'guy on a bike' because I hesitate to call him a cyclist. His saddle was far too low, so he pedaled with his legs sticking out to the sides. I could easily hear the chain squeaking from about 50 feet away. He rode sans helmet, of course, but he did have the requisite cigarette dangling from his lip.

Maybe an un-lubricated chain on a ***Mart bike is a safety item. Whenever this guy rides along a sidewalk at night, we'll hear him coming. We won't see him because except for the glowing cigarette, he won't have any lights.

Tour de Owasso...

The weather is warming up, though it's raining here on Friday morning as I write this. Naturally, as it gets warmer the neighborhood garage sales go into action. I've watched the ads in our newspaper as the column grew. There was a lull last weekend because of Easter, but this weekend looks promising. So it's time to start up the Saturday morning 'Tour de Owasso'!

Spring is always the best time to go to the garage sales. People are cleaning out their accumulated junk, so us bargain hunters can cart it all home to add to that junk pile in our own garages. My strategy is to ride around town on my bike so I can't haul anything big. I usually go looking for old books, old tools, or old bikes. Maybe I'll find a squeaker.

Big Dog...

My neighbor has a male pit bull named Lucky. Another neighbor has a female dog in heat. Lucky squeezed out under the fence last night, crooning the canine version of “I'm In The Mood for Love”. He's a large, strong dog and he seemed completely unaffected by the lacerations inflicted from the chain link fencing. When he discovered that the female was safely out of reach, he came to our house looking for a snack.

He's an over-grown puppy at heart. His tail wags furiously at the mere sight of Mary because he knows the source of all that food. I went outside and clipped a lead onto his collar, then tried to walk him back across the street. Lucky wasn't having any of it. He wanted to be with Mary. This dog is so strong I could only hang onto the lead. I couldn't budge him. Finally, Mary walked with us to the fence. Lucky went along willingly. She opened the gate while I controlled Lucky as best I could. We got him back inside, but minutes later he was out again.

That's when Jordan noticed someone walking another dog along the street. I grabbed Lucky's collar with both hands and sat down on the driveway. I don't know how he'd react to a strange dog, and I really didn't want to find out. I was afraid that he could pull me off balance and get away if I tried to hold him by the lead. Jordan warned the dog walker off and Lucky discovered I was down on his level. He climbed onto my lap! He has very bad breath.

My biggest concern is that this dog could hurt someone simply by jumping up on them. He's big and heavy. He almost knocked Mary down in his exuberance, and he could certainly bowl a child over. Lucky isn't aggressive or mean. He's just BIG.

There's no way I could out-run a dog like Lucky if I were on my fixed gear. He's just too fast. But I have a new appreciation for the sheer power of these dogs. Lucky has dense musculature and his huge, square head is equipped with jaws that could easily break an arm or a leg.

Mary phoned earlier this morning to tell me that someone was working on the fence in an effort to keep Lucky contained. I hope it works.

Good Knee/Bad Knee...

I took the car to work all this week. I know, I know, it's a bad example for someone who's a bicycling advocate. But there's a good reason or two for it.

I tried to sprint the Centurion across traffic last week, aiming for a hole in the stream of cars. My left knee seemed to snap with a sharp stabbing pain near the kneecap. I made the turn, but when I tried to climb the hill to our house, the pain was just too great. I got off and walked.

Since I was diagnosed with pseudo-gout some years ago, I've had chronic problems with my right knee. Gout and pseudo-gout have symptoms similar to arthritis. My right knee can be swollen and painful at times, but the left one has been a rock until now. This week, the right knee was my good knee.

I've been taking ibuprofen for inflammation and I've been sleeping in sweat pants to keep my legs warm and promote circulation. I've stayed hydrated too, meaning I've been up several times during the night. Yesterday, I stopped at the pharmacy for an Ace bandage. It seems to help, because the knee is feeling better.

I think that as I get older, this body will increasingly be held together with tape, bailing wire, and wishful thinking.

And finally...

“If no one bought anything...I ever did, I'd still be writing. It's beyond a compulsion.” Tennessee Williams

Boy howdy – can I relate to that! CycleDog clearly doesn't pay any of the bills, yet I don't ever want to stop writing. It truly is a form of compulsion. I think that we all yearn for some type of intellectual pursuit, a life of the mind so to speak, and writing fulfills that need for some of us.

My day-to-day life is a simple routine. I'm sure some would find it humdrum and dull. I make the rounds between work and family life, with little in the way of challenge or excitement. That's not implying that my life is unrewarding. I feel contented and serene – most of the time. CycleDog merely adds to that.

But...

I was reading about the blogger's code of conduct earlier today in Ellen Goodman's syndicated column.

“...internet gurus Tom O-reilly and Jimmy Wales proposed a Blogger Code of Conduct to encourage bloggers to voluntarily ban anonymous and abusive postings. They also introduced a second rule that might well be adopted as the Golden Rule of Civility” We won't say anything on-line that we wouldn't say in person.”

I believe that negative emotions are socially and personally destructive. A hateful person shortens his own life and disturbs the lives of those around him, the negative energy spreading like ripples on a pond. Hate and it's lesser cousins incivility and rudeness, are the antithesis of serenity. So it seemed absurd to write about that Golden Rule of Civility in conjunction with CycleDog. I write because I want to, and I attempt to influence how you think about bicycling. If your thinking changes, your behavior will change also. But I'm not going to influence many people if I'm writing hateful diatribes.

So...I'm saying here that I truly believe in being civil and reasonable when it comes to writing CycleDog. It's a two-way street. I get to retain as much contentment and serenity as I can, and you get to read columns free of personal attacks, hateful diatribes, and the other detritus.

But even more to the point, I expect that if I cross that line by posting something hateful, I fully expect that those of you reading this will call me on it.

Wednesday Musette

As I traveled west on 76th Street yesterday morning, a semi-truck passed in the left lane, and then as his cab went by me, he moved back over into my lane. The trailer and rear wheels were uncomfortably close - maybe about 2 feet away. I eased up on the pedals as the gods smiled because the light at Main Street was red. The truck had to slow and almost stop. I still had Big Mo, so I moved over into the passing lane, passed him, and then moved back into the right hand lane on the other side of the intersection. Four wheeler traffic caught up and passed us both, the trucker sounding his horn to signal his displeasure at being trapped behind a bicyclist. I motioned for him to pass in the other lane. He didn't like it. Tough shit. The guy was either being careless when he passed me or he was deliberately trying to run me into the curb. When I passed him on the left - a legal maneuver for a cyclist when he's traveling FASTER than traffic in his lane - I merely returned the favor. Funny thing, though, when he passed me the second time he stayed in the left lane until he was well clear.



I've had pain in my right knee for some time now. Actually, both knees have been hurting, but at different times. Since I have pseudo-gout which is a kind of arthritis effected by diet, I thought that I'd been eating the prohibited food groups too often. But changing my diet didn't help, so I began to suspect my cleats. Today (Wednesday) I moved the right cleat back about 3mm. We'll see if it provides any relief. I've had knee pain before now, but never anything this persistent.



My ancient Compaq laptop is on its last legs. One of the hinges broke this week, and the screen support is twisted out of shape. I don't think it's repairable. The screen sits slightly cock-eyed, tilting to the right. I've been backing up software and all my work. Much of CycleDog is on this machine. It's been fairly reliable - for the most part - since it was re-formatted two years ago. I hate to see it go, but I know I'll enjoy a new machine if only for the higher-resolution screen. The new ones are easier to read, and that's something I'm learning to appreciate more as my eyes get older. I saw an ad for laptops at one of the big box stores, so I may be going there tonight.


Oh, by the way, I've decided to name my unhealed saddle sore "Ann Coulter" because they have so much in common. One is a hateful bag of pus and the other is firmly attached to my ass.