The Bike Doctor

During the back-to-back centuries of RAW, I was — try not to laugh at a statement of the obvious — having lots of pain. Most of this was concentrated in my hands, and has since been recurring in my not-always-daily commute. Nearly every cyclist who’s experienced and done something about this sort of thing directed […]

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Rita

My folks live northeast of Houston, about 60 miles inland. I’m naturally anxious that Rita is heading in that direction. When I called, I could hear the TV news on in the background alternating between how crowded the freeways are and the storm’s upgrade to category five. My parents are planning to stay, not that

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Guitar versus violin

My kids are involved in some kind of Greek “play” next week. I would be oblivious to this except that my wife asked for some music clips for the bad deity (heavy guitar) competing against the good deity (beautiful violin). It was a Devil Went Down to Georgia moment and I jumped right on it.

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Dear Washington Mutual

Dear WaMu — can I call you WaMu? If I seem snippy, it’s because I’m that perturbed with your web site’s user interface to download my transactions. I’m writing you because I need to vent. I don’t expect anything more than a form letter back from Firstname LastInitial concatenating various blurbs+ to express unspecific sympathies

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Kissing the pavement

On the way into work this morning I had my biannual wipeout on my bike. I was going downhill and took a curve too wide. I hit a patch of autumn humus and Physics Happened. I was able to continue to work and bike home. Damage to self:minor. Momentarily stunned; gash on my right leg

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