What A Difference A Day Makes

Morning weigh-in: 165.5#, 8% BF

 

Bike: All is well. It took me all of five minutes to finish the adjustments, and now the front derailleur shifts just fine. I can't believe I lost sleep over that... I'll be giving it a real test tonight at Jacobsburg, sunset riding with Joe G -- we're bringing lights, but should get about an hour of daylight before we need them. Woo Hoo! Tomorrow is the towpath again, and I may do double-duty, riding early then meeting Larry later for the "real ride." This Daylight Saving Time is the shit.

 

More Reverb! Via founding member Roy's blog, I see that there's a Reverb Motherfuckers tribute at Sleazegrinder. That too is the shit.

 

By the way, while working on the bike on Tuesday evening I heard fire engines. City sounds,  I thought nothing of it until I realized that they were getting unusually loud, and I could also hear the diesel growl of the engines as they came to a stop... I ran into the front yard, and there I saw police cars blocking the street, and two fire engines plus a UGI truck out front. I turned around, got a quick glimpse of my unburnt apartment, then went back to watching the show: no biggie, there was just a gas leak across the street and they had to take the proper precautions while fixing it. I took my own precautions by returning to the bike work, figured I'd be safer with several buildings between me and and any exploding neighbor's house.

 

Reading: I'm just finishing up the first part of Male Fantasies: Women, Floods, Bodies, History, ie the "Women" part. Very tedious, but it helps to know that this first started out as a doctoral dissertation: there's been a lot of backing and filling, examining this blind alley and exhausting that possible interpretation; he's been laying the chess pieces out on the table and now he's finally making his moves -- in the section titled "Concluding Remarks" or "Preliminary Findings" or whatever. You know, back when I was a kid there used to be a thing called "the abstract," which could have made this process a little more palatable...

 

Back in the Eighties, my friend Steve had a party at his Keyport storefront apartment while his more mature roommate was away. A bunch of us were out his back window, on the roof of the store, and started jumping up and down on a pipe out there. The pipe broke and natural gas came pouring out, like a lot of it really fast. The party panicked, the street was evacuated -- firemen in the apartment forcing us outside, cops at the door making us leave our beers behind -- and I'm pretty sure we made the Keyport papers.

 

Anyway, last night was yoga, with that turkey sub for dinner afterward. Tonight I'll probably check out that Christian's Spring Hotel for dinner after the ride.