Publius & Co.

All dressed up with someplace to go.

I'm wearing a tie at work today. I'm not required to wear one, but I'm wearing one today.

My tie today features bicycles. Other ties hanging up in my closet have cartoon characters, bright colors & patterns, baseballs, Humphrey Bogart, AIDS awareness ribbons, and sports teams. Heck, I even have one or two with stripes on them, for those times when I have to be serious (job interviews, mostly). Before there was a business casual policy at work, I'd wear my non-serious ties, and people would stop me in the halls so they could see which tie I was wearing.

I look nice in a tie, and I've heard it all today. "Hey, sharp-dressed man!" "Got a job interview tonight?" "I've forgotten how much I like your ties!" For those, I can just smile, or nod my thanks at the compliment.

And I've had some people ask, "Why are you so dressed up?" I try to spare their feelings, but I can't. They're not hurt or anything by my answer, usually just uncomfortable.

See, I'm going to a wake tonight. My gf touched on it earlier in the week (but in case you didn't know, a friend was killed while riding his bicycle to work Friday morning). It's on Capital Hill, so it makes sense for me to come to work "all dressed up," as I work downtown.

I'm trying to figure out why my co-workers are uncomfortable. I don't think there's any reason for them to be embarrassed; people die every day. Maybe because it's because they didn't expect my answer, but I find that difficult to understand. I mean, when I ask a question, I expect an answer, and the answer I get is the answer I get and there's no reason to be embarrassed about it.

I can't figure people out sometimes.

I did get one nice response. "I hope your heart heals soon," one of my more spiritual co-workers told me.

I gave her my thanks, but I owe her more than that. As I walked away, I realized the healing started when I picked up my bicycle tie. Weird, eh?

Well, David didn't own a car. He loved riding his bike, and he rode it everywhere. I thought I was picking this tie out for him, and maybe I did. But as I think more about it, I think maybe I picked this tie out for me.

I'm Public Enemy Number One...

...according to the Carb Police. Lunch was some pasta (lots of pasta) with chicken and broccoli in a tomato-cream sauce, a biscuit (I love biscuits) and cream of asparagus soup. Waaay to many CARBOHYDRATES and VEGETABLES for the Carb Police.

Me? I can safely say there's about forty pounds less of me then there was three years ago, and I didn't take any advice from Dr. Atkins. Heh.

(True story: On one of my rat boards, in the off-topic area, someone said she needed to lose fifteen pounds in two weeks for her high-school reunion, and asked for advice. Along with the good, solid advice that she was screwed, came this note: "Atkins worked for me three times..." Those damn vegetagbles!)

Anyway, I started poking around some Atkins websites and I found this little blurb:

Along with seeing patients daily, Dr. Atkins continues to champion the natural healing arts . . . Dr. Atkins also continues to be a prolific writer and sought after speaker.

No mention of his heart problems, I noticed. While you're poking around the Official Atkins Site check out the photo gallery of Dr. Atkins in action.

So why the sudden harping on Atkins? I suddenly realized what a Cult of Personality has been built up over this guy. For example, after his death reports circulated stating he was obese and had heart problems, and it's generally agreed these reports were circulated by Anti-Atkins diet groups. Right after that, pro-Atkins diet groups started stating the heart condition wasn't related to the diet, it was something revealed several years ago, and the whole low-carb enchilada has turned into such a mess it's hard to figure out fact from fiction (fellow Munuvian and advocate of a common-sense approach to diet & exercise Heather has been following this much closer than I, as has Atkins-advocate Spoons).

All I know is, is Dr. Atkins seems to have been placed on a pedestal by his own fan club, in much the same way L. Ron Hubbard has been the be-all and end-all for the Scientologists, or Lenin & Marx are the shiznit for the commies, or Joe Don Baker is the all-knowing for me.

And something about that strikes me as being decidedly less-than-healthy.

Here's the cool thing: I wasn't the first to recognize the Atkins cult. The Great God Lileks (now, that's someone who deserves a cult of personality!) did last year: Fat is health! Bread is death! Freedom is - well, you know the rest.

Scroll down to see the picture--you won't regret it.

Fundraiser Weekend

The writer in the family, the gf, wrote about our weekend so much better than I could, and that's not because I had a hangover, either. I have notes on nineteen different wines, and I can actually read them (so there!). Some of those I had two tastes of, and a couple I forgot to write notes down. So, basically, I drank about a bottle of wine by myself last night.

No, I wasn't driving.

Some interesting notes:
1. The corkscrew of choice for the persons pouring were single-lever Waiter's Keys. There were no Zig Zag corkscrews in use. I was very disappointed.

2. Cheese baskets are *great* door prizes.

3. Most people go thru the motions of tasting wine, but don't really know what they're doing. You don't sniff the wine, you stick your nose down deep into the glass and take a deep, DEEP breath. Take a couple more, then taste the wine, don't slurp it down and proclaim, "It's good!" Chew it, swirl it around, swallow (or spit it out if you don't want to get shitfaced tipsy), then proclaim, "It's good!" or "It stinks!" I was laughing at a lot of people.

4. Amateur bartenders don't know when the girl is playing them for a fool.

5. You have to take notes when tasting lots of wines, because you're not going to remember which wies are good and which wines stink after your fifteenth sample.

The 2004 Maryland Wine Festival is Saturday and Sunday, September 18 and 19, at the Carroll County Farm Museum in Westminster. I'm there!

Oh, and we did a 5-k charity walk the next day. We originally signed up to do the 25-k bicycle tour, but changed our minds when we realized we had darn few miles on our bikes (13 for me, zilcho for the gf). You can see pictures from the walk at the gf's photoblog.

Honest, the fact we knew we'd be drinking the night before had nothing to do with our changing to the walk. Really.

My bike!

After all that talkin' about my bike, I realized I should show you what it looks like. Here it is, hanging up in our living room.

My ride was sublime, even if it was only 13 miles (13. 9 according to my cyclocomputer. I'm not counting some putt-putting before to get the saddle height adjusted, nor the cool-down in the parking lot afterward). Rock Creek Park (RCP) is beautiful. It's easy to forget you're right in the midst of suburbia (in Maryland) and the Capitol of the US once you cross over into DC, at a park called Candy Cane City.

The northernmost point of RCP is in Rockville, at an MNCPPC park, Lake Needwood, thirteen miles from the DC border. Except for crossing over several roads, and under route 28, you'd think you're in a forest...and you are. The hiker-biker path pretty much follows the course of RCP, occasionally crossing over the creek itself. It's mostly flat, except for some short but steep hills you climb up, and over. The path itself is net downhill from Rockville into DC-there are a few hills on Beach Drive in Washington, as well as the leadup into Lake Needwood itself. If you start in Needwood, you end with a climb just as you're finishing up--not a pleasant surprise.

As I got a couple of miles into the ride, an artist was in the woods, sketching out a drawing. From her angle, she was sketching the creek itself.

I passed several walkers along the way, always giving warning ("On your left!" and I wish more people did so). More often than not, I got a wave or a, "Thank you!" in return. It's amazing how far a little good-will goes.

A woman, coming my way, wearing a Volksmarch t-shirt and carrying a walking staff, waved at me, and called out, "Look at the deer on your right!" Turns out they were on my left, but as large as life and twice as natural, were seven deer, looking at me while I looked at them, no doubt upset I had disturbed their lunch. On the return trip, I saw a rider on a mountain bike, looking back at the three deer remaining. He looked up at my warning (after all, he wasn't looking where he was going), then nodded his greeting.

I finished up, cursing that last hill, and I passed a gentleman on a Bianchi Volpe. "On your left...slowly," I called out, and I saw him nod. The fact I passed him told me he was hating that hill as much as I was.

The park is not as green as it can be; it's still early in the season. But it should be magnificent in a few weeks.

EDIT to add: I also wanted to mention my pedals, which you probably can't see in the picture, but they're there.. Changing out pedals isn't exactly an upgrade; it's making the bike work the way you want to. The Jamis was spec'd out with Ritchey Shimano R-SPD clones, but I use little teeny-tiny Bebops. They're about the size of a half-dollar, and offer plenty of float (that is, your foot can rotate about on the pedal) because I've got bad knees. Other racing pedals offer little or no float, which is fine if you've got good knees, but I don't.

First ride of the season.

Fellow Munuvian Heather has pointed out it's cycling season. It seems hers is off to a bit of a rough start (she lost one of her gloves). However, I must gloat mine was off to a wonderful start.

Gloat! Gloat, I say!

Now that that's done, I can get on to some details.

First: My bike is a 2002 Jamis Ventura. It's a steel road bike, with lower-end Shimano Tiagra parts that are just begging to be upgraded (Tiagra is second from the bottom on Shimano's 1-to-5 scale--It goes Sora, Tiagra, 105, Ultegra, and Postal races on Dura-Ace). It was reviewed in Bicycling magazine a few years ago (in...uhh...2002) and it got a nice review as a good, solid, dependable bike provided you really don't want to race, except for the wheels. It said the wheels were "flexy" and I can testify it's true: the 16-spoke, single-cross front, and 20-spoke, double-cross rear Xero Lite XR-3 wheels won't support a rider much more than 150 pounds. Every time I leaned into a turn (and not all that sharp a turn, neither) I'd hear this neeeeng neeeeng neeeeng sound that sounded like the spokes were screaming in agony.

So the wheels became the second thing I upgraded (The first was that crappy saddle that left me slightly numb where guys don't like to be numb. I changed that to a Performance Bike Store house brand saddle with titanium rails. Hey, it was on sale.).

I owed the guys at College Park Bicycles a small favor, so I thought I'd order some better wheels from them. You see, a few years ago, I was at College Park Bikes and I happened to mention I had missed the Bike Magazine annual photography issue that year. The guy behind the counter had a copy sitting around, and he gave it to me, explaining I could just buy something from them sometime and they'd call it even.

New wheels should pay back that debt, I thought. I was thinking I'd get a pair of Mavic Cosmos wheels--a good, solid wheel. Relatively lightweight, lots of spokes, and Mavic has a great reputation for a French company.

The gf and I make a yearly pilgrimmage to CPB. Me, I go so I can look at bikes. The gf goes because CPB is right around the corner from the Marathon Deli, one of her favorite eating places when she was a student at U-MD. This year, tho, instead of looking, I'd be ordering and buying.

At CPB, one of the floor guys came up to me and asked if I was looking for anything in particular, and I explained to him I need some new hoops. He went to the guy behind the counter (don't think it was the same guy I met a few years back) and explained what I needed, and the guy behind the counter asked if I'd mind some used wheels, if they were in good shape

I told him, yeah, that would be fine, if they were in good shape. My logic was they were cheaper, and that would go even more to paying off my debt, since I'd be taking something off his hands that he probably wouldn't be able to get rid of otherwise.

He came back with new-looking Rolf Vector Comps, with tubes & tires still on the wheel, along with a cogset. "The guy who traded these in didn't like the color--they didn't match his bike," he explained. I looked at the red-anodized rims, thought of my electric blue bike. "How about $280 for the pair? That includes the tires (Continental Grand Prix 3000's) and Ultegra cogs. That's a hundred bucks worth of tires right there," he continued. I looked at 'em again, and I realized they were probably new, unused wheels. The gocs were grease-free, and there was no rubber wear on the braking surface.

I took 'em. The price couldn't be beat, I was helping the guy out, and they at least match my helmet. And I knew they wouldn't be as flexy as the Xero's I currently had, despite the low spoke count. The new wheels are great, though the Conti's are 25 mm wide (my old tires were 23 mm) and the cogset is slightly slower in low gears (12-23 as opposed to 12-21).

Besides, Postal used Rolf Vector Pro's a few years ago. Now they use Mavics, if I'm not mistaken...

The next upgrade was my seatpost. eBay got me a used Thomson seatpost--my old one with a setback left me just a little too far behind the pedals. The Thomson has no setback, and I've really dialed in my position on the bike.

So--the first ride of the season was on Rock Creek Park, from Lake Needwood to Dewey Park, a little over 13 miles. It felt good--afterward, driving home and smelling the sunblock, feeling the buzz in my legs, and with a feeling of...openess in my chest, I remembered how I used to feel back in my AIDS Ride days, when an up-and-back on Rock Creek Park (about fifty miles) or a metric century (62 miles) on the C&O Canal towpath was a normal Saturday morning ride for me (on a Cannondale hybrid--nowhere near as fast as the Ventura). I want to go for a ride right now, except it's raining, and I hate riding in the rain.

That, and I confess my butt is a bit sore. It takes a few rides to get your butt used to sitting on a saddle for hours on end.

Exodus

On March 18, 2004, a fire in an electric cable box shut down part of the Washington, DC Metro System for over an hour, during the morning rush hour. I take the Metro into work every morning; on this morning, I found myself outside, three stops short of my normal exit, and more than three miles away from my office.

I started walking. So did lots of other people.

To go to the photoblog, click on the image, then scroll down to enter the gallery. I'm sorry the introduction isn't showing up.

APOLOGY: I apologize for the long load times--I neglected to adjust picture sizes. Sadly, I cannot fix that from work, but I shall attempt to optimize load times later tonight.

Early morning stroll into work...

I normally walk from the Dupont Circle Metro station to work. My customer provides a shuttle bus, but unless I'm running late or the weather is crappy, I walk. It's six or seven blocks, takes between ten and fifteen minutes to get in, and is a very enjoyable little stroll. Not today, tho.

Oh, don't get me wrong--it was still enjoyable. It just wasn't little.

There was a fire in the Metro system this morning, between the Woodley Park-National Zoo stop, and Dupont Circle. I normally arrive at Dupont Circle at about 7:30; this morning, I walked by it at 9:15. I walked to work from three Metro stops away (Van Ness-UDC); according to mapsonus.com, I covered over three miles in about 90 minutes.

In all honesty, I would've made it to work in about 75 minutes if I hadn't been having such a good time. Really.

See, I feel any distance is walking distance if you have enough time, and I'm sorry I can't credit the original writer of that line.

It's true, you know. The gf actually suggested it; otherwise, I was going to wait for shuttle Metrobusses that probably didn't arrive (I wasn't passed by any on my little hike). It made sense.

A few blocks south of Van Ness-UDC (where they dumped us out of the train), I saw an apartment building with some very interesting concrete-molding, and I thought, "I should get a picture of that sometime." I walked a few steps, then remembered I had my camera in my briefcase, and sometime became now. I started snapping pictures of whatever I found interesting, once I was reminded of how beautiful a city Washington actually is.

I walked into a 7-11 at Connecticut and Porter, and got myself a huge coffee, and continued my walk, taking pictures of all kinds of different things. It's a shame I can't download pix at work, but look in this space tonight. I should have some posted then, including firemen for Susie, if they came out.

More Rat Artwork

So to speak. The latest portrait of my boy Witter. Click on it for a larger image.

This is by rat-friend, hockey fan, and too-talented for words artist Sarah Davis. Sarah runs an online comic called The Mousekaroos; when she's not busy with the Mousekaroos, she creates Caricreatures--portraits of your pets. The gf and I have commisioned four Caricreatures from her (two yet to be delivered) and they're all fabulous.

I hope I don't sound too effusive, but I really think she's a wonderful artist. I mean, check out the details: A Tim Horton's ad on the board...the little claws on the gloves...the little pink nose on the Rink Rat logo...THE CANADIAN SPELLING OF "DEFENCE!" Just wonderful!

Anyway. I just thought you'd like to see the portrait of one of my rats. If you take a look at her Caricreatures site, see if you can figure out which of the ones in her portfolio is mine. For the record, I purchased the iguana portrait from her when she had it on eBay.

More Rats!

One 460-mile road trip to Chesapeake, Virginia later, and the gf has two more rats. You may tremble before the sight of Jack and George's über-cuteness at the Ratablog.

Stupid Quizzes

You're Cat's Cradle!

by Kurt Vonnegut

You believe quite firmly that free will deserted you long ago and far away. As a result, it's hard to take responsibility for anything. Even though you show great potential as a leader of a small 3rd world country, the choices are all made ahead of time. You're rather fond of games involving string. Your fear of nuclear weaponry is trumped only by your fear of ice.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Bullshit! More proof the guys who write these quizzes all have their head up their asses.

I went thru my Vonnegut phase in high school, as did everyone else, I'm sure. I remember enjoying Cat's Cradle and Slapstick, among others, but my favorite was Mother Night.

For some reason, this one might be his worst book ever, if I believe the friends I read with and with whom I borrowed/lent Vonnegut books. I loved Mother Night, and it's the only Vonnegut book I kept when I got rid of a bunch of books during a move.

It's a fictional account of an American version of Lord Haw-Haw--only Howard W. Campbell, Jr., was actually spying on the Nazis, sending coded messages to the Americans thru his propaganda broadcasts. Only a few people knew his true mission: Campbell himself, the OSS agent who recruited him, the codebreakers who de-coded his broadcasts, and Franklin Delano Rosenfeld.

I hope I've whetted your appetite for this book--it's truly an enjoyable read. If you don't/can't find the book, look for the movie version. It's darn true to the book.

Hi! I'm back!

I spent the weekend doing another office move. Not fun.

Monday night was the get-together at RFD. Fun! Thanks Eric, Jim, Chris, Liz, and Steve! I don't even mind you all gave me grief for leaving early--I'll post the pictures later.

Tuesday...that's when the fun really started.

I just deleted a really detailed account. The gf pointed out I may have been getting a little too detailed, so here's the short version.

I had really bad abdominal pain and I spent 11 hours in the emergency room. Most of that time was time spent waiting. I'm glad I didn't have appendicitis, OTOH, we don't know what caused me to have stomach pains that made me go to the emergency room. I'm home now; I could probably work but my boss told me to take another day off as a just-in-case.

Rob should be screaming any minute now.

Just what the hell is "Classic Rock" 94.7 WARW doing playing A Flock of Seagulls for?

Yet another trade

Michael Nylander is Beantown-Bound, too. The deal was for a 2006 second-round draft pick and "future considerations."

It's obvious the Caps are doing more than rebuilding; they're razing the house down to the bedrock, and I don't think *anyone* currently with the team is assured of being a Capital next season.

Embarrassing 80's hair.

Rob has posted a photo of himself with Embarrassing 80's Hair. The link to the picture is too frightening to click on; it's certainly not suitable for small children and it may not be work-safe (due to OSHA Safety Rules regarding Blinding Materials.). Suffice it to say that all this time I thought he was referring to his wife whenever he referred to "The Big Hair."

Of course, I had Embarrassing 80's hair back in the 80's myself. I had, at various times:

1. A top-perm. Think of it as a modified reverse-mullet--take a look at the back cover for Berlin's Love Life for an example.

2. A D-A. Say what you will, it was cool back then.

3. A flattop. To be honest, I wanted a flattop like my Paw Paw had when I was a kid, but my hair was too fine when I was 8 or 9. Later on, after years of some perms and stuff, I got one. It was the shiznit.

Fortunately, only one photo exists of any of these (the top-perm, after it grew out a bit and was trimmed back and tamed) and maybe if I'm bribed properly I'll scan it and post it.

That is, if I can find it. Heh.

Guilt-trip payback time.

Anyone remember when I tried to lay a guilt-trip on Munuvia?

Ted just got me back. Hey, whatever works, ya know?

I've submitted six questions each, one in four categories, and there is a bonus question in the remaining question. I'll be honest: Except for my two two-question questions, and one single question for Spork, my questions really suck donkey dicks. I hope they ignore them.

and now for something completely different

Found via a bunch of my fellow Munuvians, Lego Victor:

Yes, I'm balding. I'm finally accepting it.

Boston

Per tsn.ca Sergei Gonchar has been traded to the Boston Bruins...for either two players and a draft pick or two draft picks and a player. Per tsn.ca All that is required to make the transaction official is the trade conference call that registers the trade with the league.

UPDATES: The press releases are being released. Washington's first release is short and to the point: The Washington Capitals today acquired defenseman Shaone Morrisonn and Boston's first-round and second-round choices in the 2004 Entry Draft from the Bruins in exchange for defenseman Sergei Gonchar, vice president and general manager George McPhee announced. Details to follow.

Boston's release.

From NHL.com.

Gonchar traded already?

Found at Off-Wing Opinion, the Caps just need to finalize a detail or two, and Gonchar will be headed...somewhere, according to the Washington Post.

As I stated in last night's blog post, Sergei Gonchar was a scratch. He skated during warmups and was announced as a scratch--an announcement that was greeted with boos. Several sources (WTEM, WTTG, and the Washington Times all claim he was a healthy scratch, and he certainly looked 100% during warmups. Sitting a healthy, high-scoring player can only mean GM McPhee didn't want to risk damaging the merchandise before the deal was signed.

It seems likely Gonchar will be heading to the Toronto Maple Leafs where Gonchar will be reunited with old linemate Ken Klee.

It's the end of the Caps as we know 'em.

The Caps lost, 1-0, which is exactly what the score should have been. Valeri Bure missed a wide-open net midway thru the first period, but a later cheap-call four minute double minor against Joel Kwiatkowski gave the Panthers the chance to score. Robert Luongo stopped all 29 shots he faced for the win, and Olaf Kolzig stopped 26 out of 27.

Rumors continue to fly about who the Caps will trade next. According to the postgame call-in show on AM 980 (WTEM) neither Sergei Gonchar nor Olie Kolzig will play another game this season in a Caps jersey.

Fortunately, I have some pictures from what may well be their final game for the Caps.

They forgot to tell the souvenir stand people these two don't play for the Caps anymore.

Sergei Gonchar during warmups. He was a scratch, and the fans booed that announcement.

Olaf Kolzig during warmups.

Former Capital Ulf Dahlen got the biggest hand of the night.

As far as I can tell, the sign reads, "ABSOLUTELY NO LOYALTY GOOD-BYE (blanked) (blanked) GOOD LUCK" And didja notice the bag on his head?

Olaf Kolzig, pulled at ~18:29 of the third. He came back on the ice for a defensive-zone face-off, and skated off as soon as the Caps gained control of the puck.

Olaf Kolzig and the Caps head into the locker room as the game ends.

I think the fan club snuck a snarky remark in. The Panthers logo could easily have been replaced with the NHL shield.

Official Scoresheet

One for the rat people

I've blogged about Vermin Brewing before, but now they've got commercials featuring their mascots!

I have got to try their beer sometime!

UPDATE: I've just been informed by the gf I've been hoodwinked! THERE IS NO VERMIN BREWING COMPANY! Or, rather, she has no doubt there are some people brewing something they call Vermin Beer, and she has no doubt these people really exist...but there is no actual company selling Vermin Beer for *my* consumption!

I'm really broken up about this. Seriously. I wasn't this upset when I learned Santa Claus's dirty little secret.

I'm searchin', yes indeed...

Going thru referral logs, and I see I'm getting his from people searching for Peter Bondra, Ogie Oglethorpe, Publius (kids working on their homework, no doubt), a few for Marco Pantani...and one guy in the UK looking for "big fat hairy dick" on UK Yahoo!

I'm number four.

Withdrawal symptoms

As of today, I have gone over two months without Hooters chicken wings.

You have to understand this is no small sacrifice for me. I first started going to the Rockville, MD, Hooters many, many years ago. I was younger, so I went for the obvious reasons: To drink beer and to look at good-looking girls in orange shorts. Soon after that, a friend of mine started working there, and one evening she recommended I try the wings. See, she's of Vietnamese descent and could eat some spicy food. I'm of Mexican descent and have been known to complain there isn't enough Tabasco in the Tabasco.

I started out easy, trying the hot wings, but I soon moved up to their 3 Mile Island sauce, then 911 when it was introduced. I've only been able to not finish a plate of ten wings once, and that was because I was full. Their wing sauce is one of the most delicious things I've ever tasted, with enough fire to make my scalp sweat, but not enough to cause immense pain. They've also got a great taste, and while I've had hotter wings I've had no luck finding tastier wings.

(I feel there should be flavor as well as fire, and that's a hard balance to reach. For instance, Dave's Insanity Sauce lists "pepper extract" as its first ingredient. Lots of fire, no flavor.)

They also do something I haven't seen anywhere else: Their wings are breaded before frying. This gives them a delightful crunch when you bite into them, and I can't deny I love the fact the breading soaks up even more sauce.

So why no wings? Basically, it's for my health. I've had fairly high cholesterol for most of my adult life. I've finally got it down below 200, and I'm trying to bring it down even more. Sadly, Hooters Chicken Wings are fried, and frying is a no-no where your cholesterol is concerned.

But two, two-and-a-half-months with no chicken wings? I think I'm due. Tomorrow night, it's Florida vs Washington at the MCI Center, and there's a Hooters just north of MCI--in fact, that's where I last had some wings.

OTOH, I'm starting a good habit, and it's not an easy decision.