Doom’s World

Before I moved downtown, I’d have told you I had a love/hate relationship with my bike, and the hate was mostly due to the behavior of my fellow cyclers.

Now, I’m not feeling the love so much. It’s not the bike that’s the problem (I heartily recommend Marin bikes). The problem is cycling clothes are a rip off. If you decide to take up cycling to get around (and I do recommend it for a variety of reasons), don’t buy a stitch of dedicated cycling gear.

Rainy/cold season: Last fall my beloved Burley jacket finally died. And the company had been bought out, outsourced and discontinued their apparel lines (stupid hippies can’t apparently turn an excellent, popular product into a successful company, jackasses). So I invested in some new gear for the rainy season. This is when I realized that cyclers just expect to be miserable when riding, and I’ll never understand why. It was impossible to find an adequately ventilated jacket. Cycling gloves are Mickey Mouse thick and still not waterproof. If you get “rain pants” you end up with a mobile sauna that looks like something MC Hammer would have worn in a video (they inflate). If you get “trail pants” they’re not even marginally resistant to water. I found an actually excellent pair of booties, but I broke the zippers on three of them (the fourth pair is still going strong, but I haven’t needed them much lately.) I remember storming into the locker room at my work in an absolute rage, soaked with sweat on top and rain on the bottom and spending fifteen minutes venting to another bike commuter about the shit I’d just bought.

Then he told me he rides in mountain gear. Grrrrr.

Serious cyclers will tell you that it’s impossible to be waterproof and not too hot (or that waterproofing is impossible). I refuse to accept that. I didn’t go to krav last week because it was supposed to rain on the two days that my class is held and just thinking about it was depressing. I think I’ll take homeboy’s advice and hit REI. They have a generous return policy for members and I’ll return as many as I need. I’ll buy reflectors to put on them or something.

Summer: Cycling gear is UGLY. Seriously. The best expression of cycling fashion is that stupid beanie serious cyclers wear. What the fuck is that? Does that tiny little visor DO anything? It’s an inch long. What good is that? And it looks STUPID. When I first got my bike I picked up a few special shirts of a wicky material with that half zipper (you may have seen Lance Armstrong riding in ad-covered versions of this shirt). While it convinced me that wicky materials are the awesome, a: Target sells tees of the stuff for $12, REI for $18, a fraction of the price of something with a cycling label on it; b: these shirts look gay, but are so ugly no self respecting gay man would ever wear one. Then there’s those shorts. The “hey, look at my balls” shorts. Someone makes them with a normal looking shell, but I’m afraid to even think of how much those cost. Cycling shoes are ridiculously expensive and usually lock into the pedal (guess what happens if you don’t get your foot free quickly?) and if you wear normal shoes they get torn up by either the chain or by crap on the road. And two words: helmet hair.

So it would be Friday and I’d be thinking of stuff to do. I’m no fashion plate, but I’m working on it. So, do I ride my bike? Well, let’s see I’ll sweat my balls off, so I can’t wear any normal t-shirts, but I don’t want to walk around with visible sweat spots on a boring solid color wicky shirt. So I’ll have to cover that up, but then I’ll need a bag to take a cover shirt, because if I wear it riding, it’ll get sweaty, too. Then I can’t wear my awesome old school sneakers, because they’re suede, but my cross trainers are beat up FUCK IT I’ll take the bus or walk.

Sigh.

NOT soccer thankyouverymuch.

I’m so over Brett Favre. The whole ordeal has the smell of “fine, I’ll take my ball and go home!” Very spoiled, very petulant, very, well, athletic.

If he was that pissed at Packers management he should have asked for a trade at the end of last season. Or better yet, used his unmatched fan support to pressure management to fix whatever he was pissed off about. But this retirement thing is some bullshit. Brett always had an aura of stand up guy, like Ripken or Piazza. But no, he’s really better than T.O. only in scale, not content (pre teary eyed defense of Tony Romo T.O., at that. And as a quick tangent, how fascinating was that moment?).

Now on the other hand I’ve NEVER liked Eli Manning. His drafting went off like a debutante who didn’t get the date she wanted. Just thinking of him pouting with that Chargers jersey in his hands is enough to make me question professional sports. And his career until lately wasn’t much better.

Until lately, that foreshadowing, folks.

I admittedly didn’t follow last season closely but the story in the news coverage could have been summed up: Eli’s balls finally drop. Really it was like watching him grow up over the last part of last season, right into the Super Motherfuckin’ Bowl. Manning to Tyree? Wow. (another aside, fuck Belicheat and that whole rotten organization)

So, provisionally, the Giants are my team. We’ll see how the kid handles himself.

Staged? Maybe. Win? Yes.

In line with my previous post, I’m going to tell a tale of good luck.

The owner of Seven Corners Cycles birthday is July 14th and every year
he goes to Oaks Park. I was invited last year and a good time was had.
This year Corey started reminding me months in advance. So this past
Monday after work I cycle my ass to our white trash Disneyland.

It’s closed Mondays. So is the shop and I don’t have anyone’s phone
numbers. Huh. So I hang around for 20 minutes or so and bail, figuring
they came up with alternate plans.

Last night I’m leaving krav and I’m hungry. So I decide to eat at
Mike’s Drive In. But it’s kinda busy and I just go by. I decide I’ll
eat at the Mike’s in Sellwood. But I don’t, no reason why really, I
just ride past.

Then I see a bunch of cyclers turn onto the road a few blocks in front
of me and think what a bunch of assholes, clogging the road. But it
triggers a memory of the previous year when I’d been in a similar
pack. And y’know that bar we all went to after is just up here. So I
haul ass to catch up with them and sure enough, it’s Corey and crowd!
So I got to participate after all.

Pretty sweet, eh?

I don’t know how many people are prone to digging through my archives,
but if you do you’ll notice a number of them are password protected.

The password is “whinybutt”.

Those are bits of my recent history that are better not dredged up.
Pissy, depressed and moany bits. But I generally dislike removing
entries, so I locked them. But if you really want to see a mopey,
bitchy Doom, the password, again, is whinybutt.

I thought 100 degree F weather was bad. But 90ish minutes spinning has
me positively ICKY.

I haven’t been to the gym in a few weeks. I was gonna go, um, Monday
(?) but stupid Sarah poopypants made me drink instead. Ruuuuuude!

I’ve been treadmilling for an hour, then running horrible, horrible
stairs, then pushups & crunches. But I think I’m just gonna go home.
Too much stationary peddling. Ow. Ew.

In other news, I forgot how hot Lucy Liu is.

Music: Fire For The People by Blue Scholars

I had to get a new library card today. I’d had that card for 20 years
and I actively pouted when the librarian was processing my new one.

Sigh.

Sunshine, skin, snot. Yes, it’s antihistamine season for ole Doom. And
the extended rainy season means extra pollen.

Bleagh. Is it October yet?

Irv Robbins, co-founder of Baskin & Robbins died today. Thanks, Irv, for filling my childhood with those little pink spoons.