Oddz n Endz #8,109,268^62 x 99.410^3 + 42
As of right now, I’ve ridden 270 of the 300 miles I set as a
goal for the Great Cycle Challenge. With nearly a week to go, I’ll probably hit
330 or more, but I gotta tell you…I am not going to make a habit of this, at
least not the way I’ve done it. In the last week I’ve chewed up a bunch of miles
by doing 25 mile rides, and while I enjoy the actual riding, I’m not enjoying
how much time it takes.
I’m on the slow side and I have to stop more often than most
(I presume)—and I’m generally fine with that—just to make sure I’m as all right
as I think I am. Am I overheating? Do I feel like my blood sugar is about to
tank? A I hydrating enough? And mostly…holy fork, my asterisk is on fire. I
still have not found the holy grail of bike seats, and I accept that because of
my delicate self, I may never. That’s okay.
But yeah, I stop a lot. Passing out on a bike will instill
that fear in you. It's not a thing I wish to repeat.
Max is doing well. Well enough, in any case. He eats, he drinks,
he uses the litterbox, he sleeps. What he’s not doing is spending much time outside
of his bedroom, which is fine. If we go in there he’s happy to see us
(especially if we have food) and he accepts being petted, but he’s not getting
into my lap the way he used to. It’s fine. He’s fragile and has little muscle
mass on his back end so I imagine it’s not terribly comfortable for him.
Main thing…he’s happy. Buddah leaves him alone for the most part
now, respecting the territory of Max’s room, and Max does move around in the
room and can still get to the back of the sofa, his favorite place to lounge. He
also wanders out a few times a day to glare at me, and he still sings at night
A month ago if you’d asked me, I wouldn’t have thought he’d be
here toward the end of this month. Now…who knows. As long as he doesn’t lose
any more weight, he could be here a while.
A while back I tossed my name into consideration to do an article
on a specific line of bikes, mostly because the gig came with a free bike. They
were looking for 10-12 writers with some riding experience but not hard-core
roadies, and a friend who’s friends with the guy looking for writing riders
gave him my contact info, along with a few others we mutually know.
Most of us got the gig. And the bike.
The bike arrived in a box, needing assembly, which takes all of
half an hour. BUT…since we get to keep these bikes, we were warned that if we
wanted the warranty on it, we had to take it to a bike shop and have it
professionally assembled, and then submit proof.
This is where I got a bit annoyed. I’m no bike mechanic but I
could do this easily. Local bike guy quoted $80-120 to do it, depending on the
bike. Nope. Bike shop I usually go to quote $60. I still wanted to nope out of
it, but…basically for $60 I’m getting a brand new bike with a warranty. So
fine. I wanted the warranty.
But now I have to wait for it, because there’s a line of people
ahead of me.
Deep down I am 8 years old, and I want to play with that bike.
Max’s newest book, Interview With a Pest
, came out a couple of
weeks ago, and I finally got to see a print copy. This might be my favorite
cover of all the books we’ve done, especially in print.
You know how sometimes you pick up a book and it just feels good
in your hands? This is one of those. It’s got a matte cover instead of glossy,
the size is right for its length, and it just has that awesome-book feel.
One thing…if you have the digital version, somehow an extra blank
page was inserted at the end of the interview, which makes it look like it’s
over. There’s an afterword by Buddah, written the night before the book went to
print. It puts a nice ribbon around their relationship; if you missed it, go
back and read it.
I have been asked multiple times if Max will have another book. The answer…we
hope so. Another volume of poetry has been in the works for a while, but the
material so far is a bit, well, deep, and what we wanted was something lighter
and funnier. He’s done deep, it’s time for light and fluffy and happy. Maybe
for once…not making people cry. That would be a first.
Typical conversational topic these days: So, how ya doing with
the whole quarantine, stay at home thing?
You know, if you’d asked me that a week or two ago, I think I
would have said it hasn’t been an issue. And it hasn’t felt like one. Our lives
have not been overwhelmingly impacted, because we’re introverts who don’t
really socialize. Other than not seeing the kids--and right now my biggest wish is for normalcy to return so we can see them, have dinner out or something--it doesn’t feel all that
different. We both miss going places just to go, dinner with a drink or two
would be nice, and I don’t like taking the cats to the vet and having to wait
in the parking lot, but for the most part, life has seemed normal.
Looking around the house, the state of it says something
different. I’ve never been a great housekeeper because cleaning is my least
favorite thing to do, but now it’s slid past the point of lazy housekeeping to what
the fuck is wrong with you? It’s like I didn’t even see all this stuff
building up around me. You show up at my house now, I’m not even opening the
door, even if your plan was to stand on the porch.
Nope, you show up, you better stay on the driveway and text me.
So, that’s my weekend. Make a list, and take it room by room.
At least, that’s the plan. I’m pretty good at screwing up plans.
Like, really good. Maybe I’ll write a book instead.