give me a waterboard, dick cheney, and one hour . . .

for mom

i come from rather modest roots. folks who know me know that. i don't live high on the hog, i don't spend money on tight jeans or loose women. i know the value of a dollar, and know the meaning of an honest day's work. that's why i went to college for so damned many years. i've tried to pass along to my daughter, and now to my grandchildren, the core of my values, so that they, too, might grow up appreciating classic lugged steel-framed bicycles and mid-sixties and older volkswagens. many of my core values were given to me by my mother, a woman also of very modest means, the child of immigrants, a single mother working to support her two young sons, living on the wrong side of the tracks. during her life, which ended all too soon, some twenty-one years ago, she did manage to touch the lives of many thousands of people, all of whom were better for having met her. some may not have realized who or what it was that caused that upswing in their lives, or what it was that turned the tide of events in their existences. but many others did, and some of those who recognized the contributions my mom made to them tried to at least acknowledge her, later in her life. one such occasion is shown below.

mom later confided in me that "ron always made me feel a little uncomfortable. i don't know whether it was that horrible cologne he wore--a gift from jane wyman, he said, or those cheap, brown polyester suits that had never seen the inside of a dry cleaners shop. he was a large man, and he was always sweating like a stuck pig. i always believe that the more a man sweats, the more lies he's trying to conceal. and i don't take a cotton to liars." as such, any time she knew she was going to meet with ron, she'd carry a little scented kerchief in her hands to cover his aroma. mom was always fond of patchouli.

happy mother's day, mom.

tom boonen's tour bus

oh, tom. temptation is such a bitch.

zippy suggests thinking ABOUT the box

random thoughts and observations

drama queens [above]
fucking lunatic [above] gonna fucking ROCK this year [above]

moving to may next year [16th through 23d], competing with the giro: WTF?!?

cinqo de mayo: glory days stories permitted today only

a long-standing oft-ignored rule of cycling etiquette is honored today, cinqo de mayo, and to it, i say, "did i tell you about the time i . . . "

yes, that's correct: it's may 5th, that ONE day each year when it really IS okay to let the bullshit roll, when it IS permitted to tell anyone who appears to care how great you really are. or were. so i strongly recommend that after tonight's ride, y'all should get together with buds and throw some back.

be sure to bring a trophy or medal along, to back it up.

enjoy!!

thought for the day