Memorial Day Musings
This Memorial Day as all the others for the past couple decades found me sucking up holiday pay at work. I was plugged into the radar at Polar High when Barry came in to help me out. When it slowed down we got to chatting and he mentioned that he'd been to a one hour Memorial Day ceremony earlier in the day put on by the city of Northfield. He felt it was important to actually take some time to reflect on the meaning of the holiday. My guess is he's in a very small minority of people who actually do that. Too many of us allow the meaning of the day to become overshadowed by sunshine, BBQs, beer, and fun. I'm guilty.
I got home from work and took the pups for a walk then proceeded to get on my bike for an overdue ride. Having spent nearly all of last weekend working in the yard, I was in desperate
need of an endorphin fix. I got my fix but not without a hiccup to begin my ride. I was descending a hill within a mile of home, on my way out, when I noticed that my rear brake was tugging in a way I'd never felt. I'd just lubed my chain and I thought that maybe I'd dripped some oil on the side of the rim. I pulled over to have a look and noticed that I'd broken a spoke. That's not a good thing with the high tensioned wheels I use, Mavic Ksyriums.
I was fortunate for a couple of reasons with this break. I was close to home and the broken spoke was on the non-drive-side meaning that there was less stress on the broken spoke than had it been on the drive-side of the wheel. Had it been one of those spokes the wheel would likely have contorted too much to ride back on. Anyway, I got home, swapped out bikes and was back on the road a few minutes later. And to think, I nearly sold my red Serotta when I bought the new one two years ago. I'm so glad I didn't do that as it's a great backup.
I don't mind riding in traffic but it's nice to have a day when there's very little of it. Holidays provide that opportunity for me. I caught one cyclist and we rode together for just a bit. He was heading up to Lake Harriet but I was set on crossing the river into Bloomington by Mall of
America and working my way west from there. We parted company.
Tammy didn't get off work until 7:30 so I was timing my ride to be back before she got home. That didn't work so well. I'd intended to take Hwy 101 out of Shakopee and head east toward home but the road was closed. I followed the detour south and figured I'd forget about working my way back to 101 in favor of picking up 154th street and taking that into Prior Lake. That too was closed.
The winds weren't kind to me. By the time I headed east for home the winds had changed direction from northwest to northeast. So much for my tailwind to finish out the ride. I finally made it home after a few more miles than I'd intended—a little over 64.
Tammy, Rachel, and I had a late dinner at Applebees. We've all been pretty busy lately and it gave us a nice chance to collectively catch up with each other.
Tammy begins working out of our home next week in her job as a telephone triage nurse. She's been working out of the main office in Bloomington the past few months getting up to speed and now she's ready. Being able to work out of our home will be especially nice next winter when the weather turns icy. Not walking into the den and interrupting her while she's working will take a bit of getting used to.
Funny, as I blog this my brother Keith just called to ask Tammy a medical question about a tick bite and Lyme Disease. Keith gets the family discount.
So what exactly does the word "emo" mean? I asked the question at work today and I'm not sure Dog got it entirely right. Rachel showed me how to find the answer to that and many other questions on Urban Dictionary, or in her speak, "you have to 'urban dic it."
In case you're wondering...
Emo:
Genre of softcore punk music that integrates unenthusiastic melodramatic 17 year olds who don't smile, high pitched overwrought lyrics and inaudible guitar rifts with tight wool sweaters, tighter jeans, itchy scarfs (even in the summer), ripped chucks with favorite bands signature, black square rimmed glasses, and ebony greasy unwashed hair that is required to cover at least 3/5 ths of the face at an angle.
In case you're wondering what "ripped chucks" are: they're ripped up shoes. And how did I know that? Duh.
I got home from work and took the pups for a walk then proceeded to get on my bike for an overdue ride. Having spent nearly all of last weekend working in the yard, I was in desperate
need of an endorphin fix. I got my fix but not without a hiccup to begin my ride. I was descending a hill within a mile of home, on my way out, when I noticed that my rear brake was tugging in a way I'd never felt. I'd just lubed my chain and I thought that maybe I'd dripped some oil on the side of the rim. I pulled over to have a look and noticed that I'd broken a spoke. That's not a good thing with the high tensioned wheels I use, Mavic Ksyriums.I was fortunate for a couple of reasons with this break. I was close to home and the broken spoke was on the non-drive-side meaning that there was less stress on the broken spoke than had it been on the drive-side of the wheel. Had it been one of those spokes the wheel would likely have contorted too much to ride back on. Anyway, I got home, swapped out bikes and was back on the road a few minutes later. And to think, I nearly sold my red Serotta when I bought the new one two years ago. I'm so glad I didn't do that as it's a great backup.
I don't mind riding in traffic but it's nice to have a day when there's very little of it. Holidays provide that opportunity for me. I caught one cyclist and we rode together for just a bit. He was heading up to Lake Harriet but I was set on crossing the river into Bloomington by Mall of
America and working my way west from there. We parted company.Tammy didn't get off work until 7:30 so I was timing my ride to be back before she got home. That didn't work so well. I'd intended to take Hwy 101 out of Shakopee and head east toward home but the road was closed. I followed the detour south and figured I'd forget about working my way back to 101 in favor of picking up 154th street and taking that into Prior Lake. That too was closed.
The winds weren't kind to me. By the time I headed east for home the winds had changed direction from northwest to northeast. So much for my tailwind to finish out the ride. I finally made it home after a few more miles than I'd intended—a little over 64.
Tammy, Rachel, and I had a late dinner at Applebees. We've all been pretty busy lately and it gave us a nice chance to collectively catch up with each other.
Tammy begins working out of our home next week in her job as a telephone triage nurse. She's been working out of the main office in Bloomington the past few months getting up to speed and now she's ready. Being able to work out of our home will be especially nice next winter when the weather turns icy. Not walking into the den and interrupting her while she's working will take a bit of getting used to.
Funny, as I blog this my brother Keith just called to ask Tammy a medical question about a tick bite and Lyme Disease. Keith gets the family discount.
So what exactly does the word "emo" mean? I asked the question at work today and I'm not sure Dog got it entirely right. Rachel showed me how to find the answer to that and many other questions on Urban Dictionary, or in her speak, "you have to 'urban dic it."
In case you're wondering...
Emo:
Genre of softcore punk music that integrates unenthusiastic melodramatic 17 year olds who don't smile, high pitched overwrought lyrics and inaudible guitar rifts with tight wool sweaters, tighter jeans, itchy scarfs (even in the summer), ripped chucks with favorite bands signature, black square rimmed glasses, and ebony greasy unwashed hair that is required to cover at least 3/5 ths of the face at an angle.
In case you're wondering what "ripped chucks" are: they're ripped up shoes. And how did I know that? Duh.
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