This is in response to Berg's posting of the Cash version of this song. Which is good.
The original, though, is stunning.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
LTD
I could talk to you about my problems. I have a lot of them. I wouldn't even know where to start.
I'll tell you that for most of the last year, I really felt like I wanted to see the whole goddamn world burned right down to the ground.
Where thoughts like this come from, I couldn't begin to say.
I have it alright. Everything that's happened to me, I've done to myself.
Mostly.
The other things just happened. They happen to everybody. That's why I see so many sad people walking around.
We're all wading through the same shit, brother. All somehow linked together by the same hurts.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm alright. Things kind of scraped bottom, but I'm feeling pretty good again.
How are you doing?
I'll tell you that for most of the last year, I really felt like I wanted to see the whole goddamn world burned right down to the ground.
Where thoughts like this come from, I couldn't begin to say.
I have it alright. Everything that's happened to me, I've done to myself.
Mostly.
The other things just happened. They happen to everybody. That's why I see so many sad people walking around.
We're all wading through the same shit, brother. All somehow linked together by the same hurts.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm alright. Things kind of scraped bottom, but I'm feeling pretty good again.
How are you doing?
Monday, October 26, 2009
The Line
Two men, turning themselves inside out for 59th place.
A lot can be said of a pleasurable Sunday out at the races. Some beers, some kicks. Families and Wives sitting out the rain in the
tents, managing bored kids. Probably dinner somewhere later.
Something to do around the house. A long shower.
All of this life. This regular guy stuff. But,at this moment, right here, all I cared for in the world was to cross the line before that other man.
We had been at war for two miles, breathing like horses. Insane in the mud and regretting every wrong thing I'd ever done:
Imagined music pounding in my head, and bile in my throat.
And the motherfucker pipped me at the line. He had it. I didn't.
A lot can be said of a pleasurable Sunday out at the races. Some beers, some kicks. Families and Wives sitting out the rain in the
tents, managing bored kids. Probably dinner somewhere later.
Something to do around the house. A long shower.
All of this life. This regular guy stuff. But,at this moment, right here, all I cared for in the world was to cross the line before that other man.
We had been at war for two miles, breathing like horses. Insane in the mud and regretting every wrong thing I'd ever done:
Imagined music pounding in my head, and bile in my throat.
And the motherfucker pipped me at the line. He had it. I didn't.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
This Weekend
I know that I'm always saying that I'm going to post here more. To like, entertain you, and stuff.
Well, Duffman says a lot of things.
Ooooooh, yeeaahhhh.
I'll just re-cap the weekend.
Saturday, it rained. Sheets of it. I went on the N.O.I.S.E. ride. I don't know what that stands for. I do know that it's been going on for some years and is top-secret underground. So underground, in fact, that I had to find out about it on the internet.
This thing was Fun Times. We played Buzkashi in the rain. There weren't any dead goats. I imagine that a couple of the players might have been vegan. On second thought, they mostly looked like they would eat anything. Anyway, the goat thing was a garbage bag full of leaves. Everybody got wet and crashed and yelled. It was so fucking awesome.
Then we poached a park. The one right outside my front door. I was cold and tired, so I watched, drank somebody's beers, and then went home.
I had to get downtown to pick up my wristband for the Scion Garage Fest. The rest of my day was devoted to this. I rolled with my buddy DK. We drank a lot. Took breaks between shows to talk about books and fatherhood, and then dove back in.
Apparently, I showed up at my restaurant just about closing and tried to fight the whole kitchen. They declined.
Below is a picture of The King Khan & BBQ Show. I took it with my camera in order to document the fact that for a good 20 minutes prior, a cute girl with a pointy nose and a black bob was rubbing her boobs on my arm and sort of accidentally touching me in a provocative nature. I liked it.
The next morning there was hungover cyclocross racing.
I am such an amazing super-stud.
(Pic from BG's flickr)
In this picture, you might find my Lads, my Wife, Sean "Handsome" Bob, Sufferin' Tong, Smokey, MaxIsNow, and Cody "Rolls in Horse-shit" the Dog.
I mean, this was some race. It hurt so bad and was perfect. All pony trails and sun and big dramatic clouds. Kids and dogs and beer. So much yelling and smiling. So much love from our tent, to all the other tents, and to all the riders. Our bells to you. Our pain to you.
Thank you strange women shouting "Go! Greenbike GO!" Thank you Dads with daughters on shoulders.
This is a perfect time.
Well, Duffman says a lot of things.
Ooooooh, yeeaahhhh.
I'll just re-cap the weekend.
Saturday, it rained. Sheets of it. I went on the N.O.I.S.E. ride. I don't know what that stands for. I do know that it's been going on for some years and is top-secret underground. So underground, in fact, that I had to find out about it on the internet.
This thing was Fun Times. We played Buzkashi in the rain. There weren't any dead goats. I imagine that a couple of the players might have been vegan. On second thought, they mostly looked like they would eat anything. Anyway, the goat thing was a garbage bag full of leaves. Everybody got wet and crashed and yelled. It was so fucking awesome.
Then we poached a park. The one right outside my front door. I was cold and tired, so I watched, drank somebody's beers, and then went home.
I had to get downtown to pick up my wristband for the Scion Garage Fest. The rest of my day was devoted to this. I rolled with my buddy DK. We drank a lot. Took breaks between shows to talk about books and fatherhood, and then dove back in.
Apparently, I showed up at my restaurant just about closing and tried to fight the whole kitchen. They declined.
Below is a picture of The King Khan & BBQ Show. I took it with my camera in order to document the fact that for a good 20 minutes prior, a cute girl with a pointy nose and a black bob was rubbing her boobs on my arm and sort of accidentally touching me in a provocative nature. I liked it.
The next morning there was hungover cyclocross racing.
I am such an amazing super-stud.
(Pic from BG's flickr)
In this picture, you might find my Lads, my Wife, Sean "Handsome" Bob, Sufferin' Tong, Smokey, MaxIsNow, and Cody "Rolls in Horse-shit" the Dog.
I mean, this was some race. It hurt so bad and was perfect. All pony trails and sun and big dramatic clouds. Kids and dogs and beer. So much yelling and smiling. So much love from our tent, to all the other tents, and to all the riders. Our bells to you. Our pain to you.
Thank you strange women shouting "Go! Greenbike GO!" Thank you Dads with daughters on shoulders.
This is a perfect time.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Cooling Down?
"In fact, Dr. Tanaka said, one study of cyclists concluded that because lactic acid is good, it is better not to cool down after intense exercise. Lactic acid was turned back into glycogen, a muscle fuel, when cyclists simply stopped. When they cooled down, it was wasted, used up to fuel their muscles."
MORE.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Cross Crusade at Alpenrose Dairy.
Burning lungs. Burning eyes. Snot dripping, muscles cramping.
Hacking, hacking, hacking.
That ain't bike racing. The Super-Crud done got me.
Went out to the Crusade opening with the whole fam-damily. Nobody was feeling it.
We checked out our new team tent (Jerseys on the way, soonish), yalped at our friends, scorned our enemies, and walked around in rubber boots and waxed-cotton jackets until the cloud-cover burned off and sent us scurrying beerwards.
Thems Lads are troopers.
PDXCROSS onnit!
Hacking, hacking, hacking.
That ain't bike racing. The Super-Crud done got me.
Went out to the Crusade opening with the whole fam-damily. Nobody was feeling it.
We checked out our new team tent (Jerseys on the way, soonish), yalped at our friends, scorned our enemies, and walked around in rubber boots and waxed-cotton jackets until the cloud-cover burned off and sent us scurrying beerwards.
Thems Lads are troopers.
PDXCROSS onnit!
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