Cognition Caps made me possibly the greatest cycling cap ever, and a winter one as well. Solid blue with an embroidered Alaskan flag. One of a kind, fits my bigger than most head, and the perfect design for me. Lyle and Kelly have really come through on this one.

I ended up with some nice Mountain Bike shoes at the swap. An excellent deal on a decent shoe. I am now ready for next fall’s cross season. The toe cages kept me from entering more than one race last fall, but that excuse is now gone. I just need to get used to SPD pedals so I don’t eat it on the barriers, though that will happen at some point anyway.

…

More and more things are leaving my little life via ebay, half price books, and St Vincent De Paul. Aside from making a little coin, I endlessly love watching things leave without a new thing replacing them. I’m not lining myself up for a monastery by any stretch, but it was fun to prune %20 from my record collection and feel like a little less of a hoarder. Sorting through the stacks of straight edge records mostly produces smiles and nods and thoughts about playing them asap. However, many records were bought because they were a measly $6 and somebody said they were good, or because it was so easy to get first pressings from Victory. I’m glad (and my pocketbook is also glad) that people want to check these records out, but I am amazed how many people in Europe are emailing me for shipping rates. Those kids are starved for mid 90’s hardcore.

Unbroken, Skarhead, and Victory picture disc comps? Sell ‘em all.

Alone in a Crowd 7”, GB 7” first pressing, Negative Approach LP, and Confront 7”? Not for all the tea in China, buddy.

A new problem is starting to crop up though. While searching ebay for a sense of what a given LP is worth, and more importantly if it’s even worth listing, I keep coming across random records I want. They are few, but man I really want them.

Mercyful Fate ‘s Live From the Depths of Hell, Straight Ahead, Negative Approach 7”, and Side by Side 7”.

It’s a short list and I do have a boot of the Straight Ahead record, but the itch remains for the original.

After working a handful of holiday weeks in a row and taking a random day off last week, this full work week is a killer. Almost over.

Tomorrow is the big bike swap here and I’m hoping for good luck. Two years ago I ended up with a pile of clothing for almost no $, while last year I snagged some lubricant at a cut rate and some Campy gloves and knee warmers for a fair price. That Campy stuff is never being given away, but at a lower price it can really be worth it. Without a doubt it is very well made, but I try and say that while avoiding the obvious Campy cult implications. No tattoo for me yet.

My family doesn’t eat crab that often. It’s expensive and fancy and before you know it you haven’t eaten any in years.

My parents remembered an all you can eat Snow Crab feast with another couple at Red Lobster some years ago, but all they were able to recall was that it was either when they were dating or soon after they were married. At the very least it was before I was born, so make that 32+ years ago. They focused on the fact that the staff would not take away the shells as to shame you into eating less, which did not work. Apparently they filled the table, looked obnoxious, and happily ate lbs of crab.

I think as a teenager we had a 1/2lb of King Crab as an appetizer somewhere, which isn’t much more than a taste between 3 people. Not a major event, but I do remember the taste.

All the more reason for my freezer’s liberation of its 20lbs of crab to be mentioned. For Christmas Eve 3 of us ate about 4.5 lbs of crab, which was impressive. I think being non-fancy Chicago Polacks helped. It was such a delicious treat that we just devoured it like savages. I should have photographed the pile of shells as a testament. The other 15 lbs is at my folks and they can do whatever they want with it, which will probably be to slowly eat it over the course of a year or more to best enjoy it and not get used to the taste too much, lest they develop and fancy tendencies. I hope to eat crab for a third time someday before another 15 years passes.

A pretty dull post I know, but all I can think about this week is how tasty it was.

Best Production Support Request Ever.

The headers accessed for all of our web pages when the print style sheet is used had an incorrect phone number for the company. Turns out it was a phone sex number. Modifying 20+ jsp pages has never been so fun.

A weekend always feels like an accomplishment when I take things to the thrift store and half price books to get rid of, and nothing new comes to take their place. That is an endless goal of mine: more going out than coming in. It is a losing battle though, but a good goal to have in mind. Exceptions are made, namely for small stacks of comic books each Wednesday and bikes that are endlessly, absolutely needed.

Anyone ever run across any Thomas Ligotti books? I recently read a graphic novel interpretation of some of his work and I have been duly impressed. People often refer to him as one of the best kept secrets in the last 20 years of horror. I really dug what I read and want to get the original prose, but his stuff seems to be strangely out of print, yet Dean Koontz is readily available. Blah.

A decent attempt

Didn't come up with 12 pictures, but I think it came out ok, and I did obey the 12 hour rule. It was certainly fun.

12:00pm, moving my cousin within Madison. It turns out that when it is 3 degrees out and you allow the lid of a grill to swing towards the ground (while carrying it on its back) the hinges will snap off like plastic. This was not my doing, but the grill and all its new individual pieces were moved in my truck nonetheless. Welding will be attempted, but a new grill is more likely.

1pm. Madison, west side. Notice the superior snow removal here. It was about 10 degrees by this time! Felt very comfortable.

3:30pm, within the move yet again. A very boring picture, but a memory of the hour long process to connect the dvd player to the tv. The tv is a huge first generation HD CRT, and is probably 150lbs at least. It barely fits in the entertainment center so there were many strained attempts to slide it out while someone furiously fiddled with the cables. The true problem was that the plugs on the rear of the tv kept coming loose so every time it gave us dvd audio and video it would cease doing so after we slid the behemoth back in. Boring picture, maddening memory.

6:30 pm and off the 70's and 80's themed party. I opted for tightrolled jeans. Sadly it was very easy to quickly produce a tightroll from memory.

9pm at the party. Homemade Bailey's(left) and Brandy Slush(right). Very Wisconsin.

11pm. The white elephant gift I received was a vintage, unused, mint boy scout canteen. Very nice.

12:45 am and time to head home from the party. Cold and snowy.

More than just some egotistical assertion that I feel the world would be better off knowing, I’m stating my intention to give the 12 hour photo project a shot this weekend in the simple hopes that I will be guilted into the responsibility of finishing it knowing that I had made that intention known out loud (so to speak). My weekend isn’t the busiest or most fascinating, but I will be bumming around town more than usual so it is as good a time as any to give the project a shot. The snow and ice here are quite charming so if nothing else the pictures will feel like December.

The always prolific Up In Alaska is on it.

The fair amount of snow and ice we had dumped on us Saturday forced me to linger around my apartment and get all kinds of little things done. Sadly no cycling occurred, but I did catch up on things here and there. I was forced again to confront how much stuff/crap I own. I wish I could get rid of piles and piles of it but that would be very difficult and it probably won’t happen anytime soon. Collecting comics and older AD&D stuff is by its very nature a practice in hoarding, which I ideally try to avoid. Aside from the collectable aspect of it, I have an extremely difficult time getting rid of something that can be read that I know I have enjoyed in the past and very well may enjoy in the future. Dumping comics and the like for meager dollars on ebay just cannot replace the possibility that I may find someone whom really would love to plow through runs and runs of DC titles. Eh, my kids can throw all that out after my funeral someday. I have no trouble jettisoning items here and there, but I have the toughest time getting rid of things that can be read. Makes sense to me, while the piles of long boxes tower higher and higher (as do the Lite boxes filled with fiction).

The main thing that happened Saturday was finishing my Lost season 2 dvds. I fell into that all too easy trap of just “starting” another episode with the theoretical plan of only watching 10 minutes, just to figure out which person’s back story we’ll be getting. That approach is a lie. I zipped through the last 6 episodes in no time and now eagerly await season 3. I have so many theories about what is what, what is being critiqued, which ideas are on trial (psychology), etc. I’m sure I’m very wrong about most of these things, but the ride is certainly enjoyable. A few years ago Wayne constantly pitched Lost to me with exciting and salivating gestures. I probably said something well intentioned about not wanting to take on a new show, that I felt that if I wasn’t on it from the beginning it was a futile move, and that the idea of a kooky desert island didn’t sound that interesting. Seeing that the show was successful enough to sustain a few seasons, along with the announcement that the creators do have a well defined goal and that the network has renewed the show to ensure its completion, was enough for me to spend the time to jump in. I feel gun shy about jumping on a new show without knowing it will be canned 2 months down the road, so more often than not I don’t jump. I end up watching much less tv this way and instead watch more dvds, which seems better for me. I much more appreciate being deliberate with my time rather than surfing into something. 108 minutes.

Not everything fits in a Chrome bag

I don’t dream as much as I would like. I daydream and let my mind wander a great deal when it comes to plans, hopes, and goals for the future, places, vacations, and the like. But I get very little activity when I am sleeping. I have always heard that chugging a glass of pickle juice immediately before bed produced some active dreams, but I can’t remember if it actually works, though I’m certain I tried it many years ago after Rodcore mentioned it to me. If it works, would it be a result of a lot of salt in your system? If that is the case, could a glass of saltwater do it as well? Or is it a magical density of something within a cucumber generated after it has been pickled, kind of like what crab apples do to moose if they are consumed after fermentation? I don’t know, but I’d like more than the bi weekly, random dream/nightmare.

When people came by my cube on the 16th they saw my suitcase and asked where I was heading. I answered that I was heading to Alaska over Thanksgiving week to beat the heat of Wisconsin. I had planned on some hiking, maybe skiing/snowboarding, and lots of Anchorage exploration. Frequent flyer miles made the trip very reasonable so I wasn’t too uptight about not skiing if the snow wasn’t perfect. Well, Anchorage didn’t have much snow but they had enough for the slopes to open up the 17th, only to see them closed mid week when the temps shot well above freezing, even hitting 45 one day. All the snow melted away and the slopes closed as avalanches become real possibilities. So yeah, I literally got away from the Wisconsin chill by heading to Anchorage.

Before the big melt on Wednesday, Becky and I did some excellent hiking on Monday. The waterfall near the Eklutna River was beautiful, though I’m certain the picture will not do it justice. It is very hard to photograph a fairly narrow waterfall in the midst of snow covered trees and rocks. I gave it a shot though and hopefully those will get developed fairly soon (it is far too easy to just let the undeveloped rolls pile up on the shelf). I believe that roll started in my camera back in June. The Eagle River nature center is also the start of many trails (I’d really like to hike from there to Girdwood someday – a perfect one night backpacking trip). We opted for a short hike and took some excellent photos off of the observation deck. Underneath the large deck is a fast moving the stream that offers up a great top down view of salmon come summertime. Hiking in 20 degree, snow covered Alaska is very beautiful and fairly comfortable. I’m glad the melt came on Wednesday and not Sunday.

The Double Musky is ranked as one of the best restaurants in the country, and from the descriptions of people that have eaten there I wouldn’t deny it. We were told to get there early as they do not take reservations and a 2 hour wait is not uncommon, order a steak or something Cajun, and expect to pay plenty and not feel swindled in the slightest. So we found ourselves a little dressed up and heading to Girdwood for dinner Friday night, only to find a piece of paper in the window with magic marker stating “closed till 12/12.” The website had none of this information. I know it is a family place but the website is well designed and therefore presumably often updated. Nah. Very disappointing and strange. How are they not open given the impending start of the ski season at Alyeska right up the street? I would have expected them to take a vacation right before the snow came, but alas. So we went to Alyeska and had a very tasty, yet odd meal. We saw people getting fresh bread and inquired about our own.

“Oh, the bread isn’t very good. It gets stale right after it leaves the warmer so I figured you wouldn’t want any.”
“Well, we’d like to give it a try.”
“Oh, then I’ll bring some.”

Yeah, the bottom of the bread was a little too hard but it certainly was edible. Good meal (crab stuffed salmon for me – steak for Becky), but odd. Next time we’ll definitely have to call ahead to the Double Musky and make sure the drive is worthwhile.


More pictures will be coming soon, and there are certainly more tales to be told. I ended up walking off the red eye at O’hare Sunday morning with a box containing 20lbs of crab (fresh from Norton Sound) and an additional 15lbs of salmon and halibut. My balcony currently contains my ice trays and freezer packs as my freezer is now a perfect block of seafood. I should post a picture of this before the crab legs head to Indy for Christmas and get replaced by piles of venison on my trip back through Chicago. Endlessly… a block of meat.

Ahhhh, Alaska

sad stuff

As Into the Wild opened in Madison last Friday, I had a chance to catch up with it on Monday night. On a side note, the Sundance theatres are very fancy and a bit pricey. Good experience, but if a given movie was playing somewhere else I’d probably lean away from Sundance.

I’ve always been fascinated by Chris McCandless and had read the book in the Spring of 1999 before my first trip to Alaska that summer. I remember becoming completely enthralled in his story, while also seeing clearly the positives and negatives in his life. He lived gloriously according to his own driven id, while simultaneously, selfishly amputating his loved ones with no notice in the name of burying pain and promoting rebirth (I understand his home environment and parents’ flaws were magnified a bit for movie, but how could one really be sure? Even if they were that bad, his selfishness is still indictable). My mother read it as well and was a little frightened for my summer trip, but I assured her easily by reminding her that I had been to BWCA and numerous other high adventure places and had the knowledge to do just fine in Denali with a backpack.

I remember feeling (probably arrogantly to a degree) that I had perhaps a bit more outdoors experience than Chris, and certainly a greater sense of what was wise and unwise in entering a wilderness, particularly one as large and unforgiving as Alaska. I guess I have a healthy fear of the untamed wild, which Chris did not. This makes me pleased and sad. I admire that about him and find it fascinating, but also find it immensely foolish and unwise, and certainly nothing to emulate. It has been surmised that he essentially desired to commit suicide by walking out with the supplies he carried, and it’s hard to disagree. He wanted to disappear into the ether like Enid at the end of Ghost World (which I always read as a metaphorical and near physical suicide) and he got his wish, though we certainly know he intended to re-enter civilization and re-connect with friends and presumably family. Alaska plays for keeps though and while it is easily one of the most beautiful places on earth, it is extremely unforgiving. Alaska has taken many wide eyed adventurers and easily will continue to do so. There is a line in The Blair Witch Project that got a chuckle in the theatre where a character asserts that by merely walking in a straight line they would eventually run into a road, as America has been thoroughly sliced up as to make endless meandering impossible. True, but not so true in Alaska.

While the book loudly sung Chris’ infectious wanderlust and joie de vivre it always tempered it alongside the facts of his story and sobering comments from Alaskans as to the reality of many people from the same cut of the cloth that the Great Land endlessly claims for good. He made many mistakes that could have been easily foreseen – bring a map, more experience storing meat, location of the hand pulley down river from his aborted return route, etc. The film doesn’t really mention these things, but they are certainly there if you stare hard enough. In his attempt to cross the river and return to civilization and human contact he maddeningly confronts the raging river that was much smaller in the winter time. The film succeeded in this sequence so powerfully that I actually though he might make it even though I already knew the conclusion well (much in the same way United 93 fooled me into the possibility of a happy ending), but it neglected to show the audience the existence of a hand pulley less than a mile up river – a fact he would have known if he had brought a map. I see no benefit in insult to injury, but it is a useful fact, though one that probably violates the sainthood Sean Penn seems to ascribe to Chris. While the book loved Chris and clearly painted his warts, the movie seemed to barely mention his warts, yet always with clear justification for their existence. I’m sure Sean Penn will disagree with that statement (and maybe punch me over it), but it definitely came across that way.

Geez, I sound like I’m really bashing this movie. I hope that is not the case, as I loved it. The direction and story structure were excellent. Several shots so perfectly used the widescreen, particularly the opening shot. You could clearly visualize how small we are in relation to the wilderness. I believe strongly that there are aspects of Chris’ life worth emulating and celebrating and that his story is well worth telling. Some of it should be cautionary, even damned in the ultimate analysis. I don’t agree with any beatification though, and probably agree with most of what Alaskans conclude.

Up in Alaska is slightly on the other side of the issue, but I can’t say I disagree with her at all.

Here is a well written, concise Alaskan point of view from a somewhat doppelganger of Chris’.

Another Alaskan pov.

Ultimately, Alaska is that magnetic of a place. I wholeheartedly agree with Chris on that one.

Hal Holbrook practically stole the move when he appeared.

Cross last weekend was ridiculously fun. I'll certainly race again this season, though probably not until mid November. My schedule is a little tight, but I will hopefully race in some snow.

I seriously loved it. I didn't finish last and did better than I had expected. You never really know where your fitness is until you test it in an actual race (I don't know if alleycats count. I guess they do, but then again that is really up to the individual. I always backed off in them in the name of safety knowing that I had no shot at winning to begin with.). I know where my fitness is at Ford's Gym because the numbers on the iron never lie. Pedaling is another story. I was able to ride with a few groups and even pass a few people on the later laps. I suspect my strength is in holding a pace over time rather than turning it on early, late or in the middle. I'll get some shoes soon and give it another shot soon. Being in the pain cave never felt so fun.

It was a road weekend, which was a good choice given the weather.

No pies this week but Into the Wild is finally in Madison so I'll need to see that and satisfy my Alaska jones for the time being. Hopefully there will enough snow to ski up there at the end of November.

I can't wait for Cognition to come out with winter caps. Can they work the Alaska flag into a blue wool cap? We shall see.

I could plead laziness in this low posting frequency, but that would not be completely true (thankfully). I was in a cabin in St Germain, WI fishing for a week with my Dad. The plan was expressly hoping for many Walleye to come home in gallon sized ziplock bags, but as these things go there was not even a single Walleye caught. Lost lake is not very large (500 some odd acres) nor extremely deep, so it was perfect for our smaller boat. We had enough time and knowledge to work the lake properly but alas no Walleye. We did catch fish everyday, albeit smaller ones some days (Smallmouth, Northern, Musky, and even a large Crappie). I donated $20 at the Lac De Flambeau casino, my father won $21, and we both put a hurt on the prime rib buffet. What is it about the northwoods that means prime rib? I don’t know. We caught some fish on a quiet lake, slept in a cabin right on the lake, didn’t have to go to work, ate prime rib and fish fry, saw the full blown fall colors, and I read the Bell Jar. No complaints at all.

We did have a large, ripe apple tree next to our cabin so I went home with about 10lbs of apples. I’m not sure of the species, but they are edible and tasty. It’s probably not the tastiest apple pie in the world, but for a first try I think I did just fine. Melissa in Portland would be so proud of me. Coupled with the blueberry pie I made in July I am genuinely on a streak. A streak of what I do not know for sure, but suffice to say I suspect some tattoos might be needed to balance it out.

My first cyclocross race is tomorrow. Lord, have mercy. I now become initiated into the pain cave.

I have started Lost Season 1 dvds. I am so hooked.

What a busy weekend – one that I still need to recover from. Like many great times it developed quickly and out of the blue. Thursday night and into early Friday morning found plans for going to Chicago that night for Om at the Empty Bottle. We would be returning late that night. The show was terrific. Om feels like getting hit by a slow, trudging freight train. I really need to pick up some of their stuff. The abundance of hipsters at the show was strange though, something none of us could come up with an answer for. I was dropped off at 4:30 am to walk through the chilly, 40 degree Madison night to my apt.

Mid-morning Friday my boss offered me 2 Badger tickets for Saturday’s game – 11 am. How could I say no, even though I had already made plans for the Chicago trip. My Orbea was still in the shop so I might as well try doing something other than biking in my free time. I was up at 8:30 and we were walking towards the flowing tailgating parade by 9:15. I had a little tickle in the back of my throat, which I mainly ascribed to having no sleep and spending so much time in a smoky bar the night before. The game was excellent and all of the people that have told me that I needed to go to at least one game just to experience it were correct. I wonder what my college experience would have been like if I had attended a school with that component of student life. UIC has basketball, but in a city like Chicago it is so easy to disregard any non professional teams. If they hadn’t of canned the UIC hockey team I might have been on board with that. I believe I was the only one at Camp Randall not wearing red.

Still no Orbea come Saturday afternoon. They are in the process of drilling, yes drilling, out the bottom bracket. The word is that the crank and frame are in perfect condition, but still – drilling.

Come Sunday morning (after 10+ hours of sleep) the scratch in my throat is now a full blown cold. I watched the Bears, still had no road bike, and recovered from a busy weekend. I saw Bucky and now need to buy some Om records. No complaints.

No news here, but Hemingway endlessly fascinates, confounds, and challenges me. With any luck I’ll keep uncovering Hemingway factoids throughout my life, even though I try to avoid letting that happen. Call it a lifetime quest for knowledge I hope is never satisfied. Stay Hungry (as Twisted Sister has said).

I understand that he was challenged to write a story in 6 words, to prove his economical style at it’s most extreme.

For sale: baby shoes, never used.

It seemed for a moment that we were gaining ground, only to have the man ultimately shut us down yet again.

On Tuesday my coworker alerted me to a wonderful fact about the candy and chip vending machine downstairs. When you put a dime in, the display registered the .10 increment while also letting your dime drop into the coin return. I walked down with 2 dimes and came back with 2 candy bars and 2 dimes.

On Wednesday I walked down with a few dimes hoping to cash in yet again. The dime went through, the .10 was registered on the display, but the dime actually went into the machine without dropping into the return. Fair enough. I pushed the coin return button and watched while the display cleared to 0.00 and my dime stayed inside the machine. The same thing happened on Thursday to my coworker. He put in 7 dimes, realized the chips he wanted were .50, selected the chips, and promptly received the chips and no change.

The machine, it seems, is making up those lost dimes.