I went to get some sushi tonight and had an interesting experience. A guy sat down next to me and when he ordered, his voice sounded really familiar, but I wasn’t sure. When he ordered something else, I knew who it was. Tim Wilson, an incredibly funny guy. Well, at first, I knew his name was Tim and I knew I knew his last name, but the damn thing wouldn’t come to me. Finally, it came to me and I introduced myself to him.
When I tried to say, “I listen to you on Z106, our local oldies station”, it came out something like, “kdfow ofojf fndopq sojgs”. Yeah, I know, real smooth. Before I could embarrass myself further, he said, “You mean John Boy and Billy?” I nodded, since I couldn’t screw that up.
Anyway, we talked for a while and the guy was really nice. I didn’t want to take up much of time, but he was a good guy to talk. Plus, I was impressed he remembered my name when he left.
Anyway…if y’all get a chance, try and catch Tim. He’s pretty funny. Feel free to mention my name.
For some reason, the topic of babies came up at lunch. Actually, it was more about women being pregnant than actual talk about babies. I have no idea how the topic started, but I did witness the following exchange.
Guy 1: It doesn’t matter what trimester they’re in, you always have to be careful.
Guy 2: Really? Huh. So, how many trimesters do they have?
Guy 1: ……
Guy 2: Oh, right, [laughs out loud]…trimesters. So it’s like quarterly, right?
I’m going to be in Charlotte, NC the week of February 26th for a training class. If you live there, lived there, or know people who live there, can you give me an idea of some places to go or places to eat? Never been to Charlotte so this’ll be a new experience.
Found a dog-sitter so I don’t have to put the 3leggers in the doggie hotel. I’ll still have to pay to have someone let them out and feed them, but this girl comes highly recommended, is really cheap, and lives less than a mile from me. Karma. ðŸ™‚
I didn’t believe them, but it’s true. When you turn 41, things quit working all of a sudden and your memory starts to…uh…it, uh…your memory starts to…um…give me a minute and I’ll remember.
Wish me luck, Dear Reader. I applied for a new job today.
The Police! On tour!! New Orleans!!!
If your iPod says this:
Live it. Learn it. Love it. Otherwise, you’ll spend the next 45 minutes of your life panicking, Googling, trying, Googling some more, praying, trying some more, Googling one last time, trying one more thing, then sighing when you finally see that lovely Apple logo.
Plus, it’s hard to explain that you’re late for choir because your iPod crapped out. And be sure you don’t say crapped out. Apparently that’s not a good choice of words for choir.
And finally, if your iPod
craps out quits working, email me for a resolution. However, I reserve the right to say, “I told you so.”
I went to dinner at a friend’s house last night and brought some hamburger meat and Italian sausage for him to cook on his Big Green Egg. The dude loves to grill and I was more than happy to indulge him.
When I make hamburgers, I buy the cheap stuff because it’s cheap and it’s hamburgers. I’m not interested in the fat content…just the price. Apparently, I’d bought the Rosie O’Donnell of hamburger meat because that crap was loaded with fat. And as all good grilling men will tell you, burning fat smokes like a mother.
Anyway…as the burgers were cooking, the smoker was spewing so much smoke that it looked like the house was on fire. As we stood outside amidst the smoke, staring at the grill like men do, my friend commented that his wife will make him bathe before bed because he smelled like the inside of a smokehouse. I just nodded, mesmerized by the sound of cooking meat.
When we went back in the house, my buddy picked up his guitar and started strumming. We took guitar lessons together last year and have remained about the same level, in my humble opinion. It was at this time that the following exchange took place:
Friend (while playing the guitar and sniffing his shirt): Man, I stink.
Howard: Yeah, that’s why I quit playing. I just didn’t feel like I was getting any better.
Friend: Uh, I was talking about my shirt.
I think, Dear Reader, that I’ve lost my mind. I went for a bike ride this weekend in 48 degree weather. It was a beautiful day, but coooooold. Fortunately, the guy I normally ride with gave me some hand-me-downs of leg warmers (think neoprene thigh highs) and arm warmers. I wore the leg and arm warmers, my cycling bibs, a pair of neoprene tights, a long sleeved jersey, my regular cycling gloves under a pair of winter cycling gloves, and a windproof vest. And I was still a bit cold in spots, like my toes.
The good news is that I rode a little over 15 miles with a 12.6 mph average. It’s not great, but it’s good for the first ride of the year. I’m only 985 miles from my 1,000 mile goal for 2007. My legs were achy later in the evening, but two Tylenol took care of that.
The other good news is that I finally feel like I’m riding MY bike, not some bike I bought. This might (or might not) sound strange, but it’s true. I got on the bike, clipped in my shoes, and went. No worrying about position or equipment or saddle height…just simple pedaling. It was a pretty cool feeling and it felt great to be “comfortable” on the bike.
Anyway…the first long ride of the year is the 62 mile option in the Natchez Trace Century this April. I’ll keep you posted.