Happy Monday! Some of you have been reading me for years. You know me better than I do. Some of you have not been reading me for years. Lucky you! Maybe you only think of me as the joker in this bedraggled deck of cards. Either way. Here I am, ready to answer any and all questions about my fitness to serve here at The Cycling Independent.
Padraig pointed out that, in this video, I allude to the descent I’m standing atop, but then I fail to give videographic evidence of said descent. This, he said, constitutes a failure to apprehend the value of video media, and its ability to communicate visual truths. I’m paraphrasing here.
The following video is not the descent in question, but rather a brief snippet of the fun available on my local trails, on a fine weather day, even without a helmet (please flame me in comments).
I’ll be honest. I wasn’t expecting that you’d have lost so much of your southern accent. But, I also have no idea you’ve been away from there or if you ever had one…
Tom, I kicked the accent during my freshman year in college. People told me it sounded cute, which I interpreted as “dumb,” so I Brokawed that shit. My accent was never strong. My dad was Welsh and my mom’s from New Jersey. I had an ambient, not genetic, accent. And of course, I’ve lived in Boston for more than 30 years now. That’ll pound a lot of whatever regional idiosyncracies you’ve got right out of you.
I used to work with a guy that was born and raised Southie. After five years in Albany, NY, he’s found his Rs….
Dude no helmet?
Some days I don’t wear a helmet. Most days I do. But some days not. It’s a risk I’m comfortable with. Sometimes.
What’s an ideal Thursday afternoon ride to you? If not riding, what (running, skiing, picking your nose)?
Thoughts on tacos?
How do you like your coffee?
If your dog could talk, what would dog be saying to you right at this moment?
Austin,
Those are some fantastic questions. The ideal ride for a Thursday afternoon (and one I’m trying to wrap up work so I can get to even as I type) is a slow, solo woods ride. Lately I’m liking the gravel bike for that because it gets me between trail systems faster than the MTB, but sometimes I like to go to one small patch of woods and work on skills by myself. I’ll pick an obstacle and session it a little. I find that calming. If I’m gonna ride hard, I prefer to do that in the morning, not sure why.
My thoughts about tacos are: 1) They are one of nature’s perfect foods (i.e. handheld, edible wrapper, easy to make), 2) I can eat them most every day (and maybe do), and 3) It is blasphemy to put non-traditional ingredients in a tortilla and call it a taco. Having said that, I’m pretty ok with blasphemy as a rule.
I wish I could tell you I drink my coffee black, like a snob or a tough guy (irony), but I like a splash of cream. I drink a lot of coffee (4-5 cups a day), so I reason that the cream keeps all the acid from burning a hole in my soul. I like good coffee. I also like not-as-good coffee.
My dog talks a lot, by which I mean that I talk to my dog and then answer back in a voice I have selected specifically for him. He is hilarious. He is very probably the funniest person living in my house. At the moment, he would be asking me to keep it down because it’s nap time, the problem being that, unless we’re in the woods together, it is nap time. He also makes a lot of simple declarative statements like, “I’m brown,” and “I like meat,” and “Cats can suck it.” He is a pitbull mix with a tragic underbite and a pronounced snaggletooth. His voice is very high though. It’s part of his charm.
R