April 29, 2017 § Leave a comment
Me: “Hey Tim?”
Tim: “Yeah Bird?”
Me: “If Fools Classic was the hammer and I was the nail, what is Fleche Buffoon?”
Tim: “A bigger hammer Bird. A much bigger hammer.”
April 15, 2017 § Leave a comment
a person lacking in judgment or prudence Only a fool would ride Fools Classic without knowing what thy got thyself into.
a : a retainer (see 1retainer 1) formerly kept in great households to provide casual entertainment and commonly dressed in motley with cap, bells, and bauble: The designers of Fools Classic are entertained by the motley fools who sign on for their event.
b : one who is victimized or made to appear foolish : dupe History has made fools of the many who ride Fools Classic.
a : a harmlessly deranged person or one lacking in common powers of understanding That fool must be MENTAL and has no idea what Fools Classic is going to do to them.
b : one with a marked propensity or fondness for something a dancing fool, a fool for candy, a cycling fool
In some ways it seems pretty simple to apply each of these to the participants involved in the 2017 edition of the Fools Classic.
March 27, 2017 § 1 Comment
“Recovery from what?” you might ask. As a word we have
A return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength.
synonyms: recuperation, convalescence
The action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.
synonyms: retrieval, regaining, repossession, getting back, reclamation, recouping, redemption, recuperation
I am referring to the first definition, and more importantly to the “strength” part. I have dealt with the first part in more than simply the common cold, but the third part I encounter fairly often
March 25, 2017 § 3 Comments
The Hell of Hunterdon is a tribute ride to what is arguably the best of the European one day “Cycling Monument” races, Paris Roubaix, a.k.a. L’Enfer du Nord, The Hell of the North. For those that are ignorant of this cycling classic, Paris Roubaix is jaunt through the old WW1 war grounds of France between Paris and Roubaix. The route stitches together 29 “sectors” of cobbles for a total about 55 km, and count down as they are encountered, so the first sector, Troisvilles to Inchy, is hit at kilometer 97, and is numbered 29. There are sections that are ancient even to an American audience, for example, Trouée d’Arenberg, a Roman era road that is off limits to all forms of travel but foot traffic year round, except for this race. A 2.4 Kilometer line of carnage for many, and the place where this race begins to break apart, and many find that this is not their year.
March 11, 2017 § 4 Comments
At the time, I was working for Abe Osovsky in Yee Lee’s department. I had transferred over there from my old department where I had been developing test tools, but didn’t feel much like a tester. I wanted to do development work, but by the time I actually moved into Abe’s group, the project I had interviewed for was well past available, and someone else was working it. After a couple of months of trying to invent something for me to do, I was asked about a new project in Peter Ting’s group where a small group of people were just getting started.
February 8, 2017 § Leave a comment
While I was writing my last post, I mentioned a summer at Penn State when I started working for Tony Fabri who ran Tony’s Sub Shack on College Avenue. All these years later, that time in my life was such a strange time. When my girls were growing up, if they had ever come to me and asked, “Dad? Have you ever broken the law, or have you ever worked for a real dirtbag?”, I would have lied and said, “Of course not! Dirtbag? Moi work for a dirtbag? Where did you ever get such an idea?”
Today, however if they asked the same question, then of course I would tell them the truth. I did work for a dirt bag, and his name was Tony Fabri .
February 7, 2017 § 2 Comments
Other than walking, and maybe sleeping and eating which can be considered activities, cycling is an activity that I have engaged in pretty much, most of my life. When I was young it seemed like all the kids had some kind of bike. I can only assume that I started on a tricycle in nursery school, and later at home, as I do have memories of my youngest sister riding my tricycle. Myself? Not really.