Staying at the hotel, from Thursday night to Monday morning, my commute was along the Mt. Vernon Trail to downtown to the Capital Crescent Trail. That’s a gorgeous ride, especially on a clear night or a sunny morning.
I also met up with one of the HuSites that I’ve most wanted to meet for a long time. (I won’t mention who else is on the short list in order to prevent the rioting that would almost certain occur.) He was even more interesting in person than he is on The Intarwebs, a mean feat to pull off.
I intended to go for a group ride this morning. As usual, I was 5 minutes late and was pulling up in the van just in time to see everyone rolling away. By the time I saddled up and hit the road, they were all long gone. Then I proceeded to make a wrong turn almost right out the gate meaning that I was doing the course backwards compared to everyone else. Then I made another wrong turn that cut 20 miles or so off the route. Instead of the planned 58 miles, I did 35. This is probably a good thing.
The route was really nice, along the backroads through Montgomery County’s agricultural reserve. The scenery was beautiful. And there were a butt-ton of hills. At one spot there were some llamas walking around the front yard of this one farmhouse. I would have stopped to take a picture but (a) there was no fence and (b) I have no idea how aggressive llamas can get. I also passed a lot of wild turkey.
This was the first time I’ve taken The Bride of Frankenbike out after the refit with SRAM components. There was some cable stretching going on so I couldn’t use my large chainring up front. The new bullhorn style bars don’t really fit the geometry of the stem, so I need to replace the stem and I couldn’t really ride aero. Something’s making a Gord awful racket when I get up to speed and then stop pedaling. The bike’s done this since I got it. I had both the wheels overhauled hoping that would fix it. It didn’t. So either the wheel mech missed something or it’s the bottom bracket. After the overhaul, the old school bladed spokes (Mavic Ksyrium ESS 10th Anniversary wheels) make that great whistling sound. But the racket when I stop pedaling unnerves me. I need to get that checked out.
And I should really go back to the fitter and get this bike configured for me.
I finally buckled down and got LASIK surgery. It’s been on my to-do list for some time. And with money in a medical FSA that we needed to spend or lose it seemed like a good time to do it.
The procedure itself takes less than ten minutes these days. I spent far longer the week before for my pre-op appointment where three different people went through the paces to take my prescription to make sure they all arrived at the right one.
The only downside is that I’ve got a touch of halo-ing at night. It’s enough that I notice it but not enough to inhibit driving at night. On a practical level, the only real consequence is that I can’t read my phone screen in the dark. When every pixel has a small halo, the screen becomes indecipherable.
Other than that, I only wish that I was a better napper. The doctor recommended that I go home and take a nap after the surgery. I was able to sleep for an hour. After that, I woke up and my eyes hurt for a few hours. But by evening, the pain started to subside. When I went to bed, I slept fine and when I woke up there was no more pain and my vision was 20/20.
I lost an uncle this past week. He was on my dad’s side of the family and I didn’t know him all that well.
I do have warm memories of him. When I was young - I think about 8 - he and one of his friends drove me, my sister, and my cousin from Ohio to Colorado to visit my aunt who was attending school out at Colorado University. It was a long drive. And a lot of fun.
He also may have saved the lives of everyone in the family when my dad’s youngest brother went off the deep end and decided to kill the entire family for his mother for her birthday. I don’t remember much of the story, I was pretty young. All I remember experiencing first hand was being taken out of class in the middle of the day and being driven to a hotel. Apparently we were being put under police protection.
The story I’ve been told - and I have no reason to doubt it’s accuracy but also no reason to hold it to be the Gospel truth - is that when the younger uncle showed up to kill his mother, the older uncle got in an altercation with him and they went out the 1st floor window. (The house being on a hill had a 1st floor about as high as the 2nd floor in most buildings.) The younger uncle managed to escape. But while most of the family was holed up at the hotel under police protection, my older uncle pulled up right behind his youngest brother on the Interstate. He radioed the police on his CB radio and the younger uncle was apprehended.
After spending I don’t really know how long in police custody the younger uncle was released and he set himself on fire in front of my grandmother’s house. It was a closed casket funeral. I remember a lot of details from the funeral which I think is odd.
My eldest daughter and her fiancee have moved into the “spare” bedroom in our apartment. The fiancee works in the US customs service. He was recently transferred from JFK up in The City to Dulles down here in the DMV. They’re staying with us until they figure out where they want to live.
It’s going to take a while to get used to having twice as many people around. But it is nice to have some help with the housework.
Not to mention it’s nice to see my daughter more than a few times a year.
Work has been workish. I’d say more, but, you know. If only there were some mechanism where we could post things here that would only been seen by a limited audience and which would be deleted after a nominal amount of time.
But the one story I can relate is that this week we drew names for the office Secret Santa exchange. I pulled the name of a cow-orker who is dumb as a box of rocks.
It’s really kind of interesting. This fellow is pretty much wrong about everything. And I’m not being hyperbolic. If he says something, it’s almost guaranteed that whatever it is he’s saying is wrong.
For example, he once told me that he’s never really investigated Python because he doesn’t like functional languages.
As another example, at a luncheon for the team he asked the entire table if anyone had seen Duck Soup because it’s his favorite Three Stooges movie. Upon being pressed about Duck Soup being a Marx Brothers movie, he went on to explain how The Three Stooges was the stage name of the Marx Brothers.
Not to mention all the hours I’ve spent fixing the things that he’s screwed up.
Anyway, I’m not sure that I’ll get him but right now the leading suggestion came from my mom, Zizek’s Organs without Bodies.
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