Sorry that I haven't really posted in awhile. I just haven't had that many great adventures lately. I know that you are all still waiting for The Valley Part III, but wedding planning and various other things have thus far conspired against its completion. I have a couple of days off next week, so maybe I'll get it done then.
I suppose the big news in the blogrings these days is the arrival of the mysterious EGTY. It has been reported that EGTY can be chopped to pieces and then regrow himself from the stump of a tree at an incredible rate of speed. While the discovery of the phoenix of trees would be cool, we have now come to know that EGTY is nothing more than a pathetic attempt by wanna-be spammers to bring attention to their own company. It turns out that EGTY has never wrestled a badger in Juarez, or rid a college campus of a marauding gang of mercenary squirrels, or even been suspended over an abandoned mine shaft. We will never know if EGTY tastes good when grilled with a little bit of cheese, or if he can make us laugh until our bellies hurt. It is depressing in a way, EGTY could have been many things, but turned out to be none of them. I will miss you EGTY, you were the friend that none of us ever wanted to have. It's really a shame because I was so looking forward to having a tree in my backyard that I would have to chop down every day.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Friday, August 26, 2005
Sorry.
Just like Proteinstar, I had to enable the word verification program for commenting. Rover's Racing World got slammed by a whole bunch of unsolicited comments about everything but EGTY. As a precaution I enabled the program on both blogs. Sorry that it makes it a bit harder to comment now. Like people were commenting anyway!
Friday, August 12, 2005
An Event of Interest.
I have returned from vacation, but I will not regale you with tales of swimming with stingrays, or the not quite invention of Beach Croquet. Indeed an even greater event has caught my attention. Today I went on a bike ride. It wasn't really meant to be anything special, just a ride along my normal fitness route. You can imagine how astounded I was when I passed a large sign for the Falmouth Goat Races! It appears that the village of Falmouth (Lancaster County) annually holds a goat race to raise funds for community events. This year the race will be held on September 24, and I have every intention of attending, if not participating. Initially I didn't think that I could participate as one of my landlord's few pet restrictions is against goats, but it appears that organizers have some goats available to rent for the day. How considerate! I attempted to find some pictures, or a web page about the races to share with you, but there isn't much info about them online. I did however find a web page for a similar event held annually in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. They look a bit more elaborate than what I expect the Falmouth races to be, but who knows? On a side note, the Dar es Salaam site led my to discover Blue Mango, a site with some exceptional African photography that I will add to my links. Beyond that, vacation was quite nice. I did actually swim with stingrays and almost invented Beach Croquet, until I returned home to find that it had already been invented under the guise of Toequet. Guess I'll have to go on working for a living.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Double Blog Blitz!!
That's right folks. I have made history posting about the same topic on both of my blogs at the same time!! Actually it isn't at the same time, but close. Anyway, it is my way of officially celebrating the end of this year's Tour De France. Enjoy. Also, check out Rover's Racing World for some long overdue F1 updates. Also, I leave for vacation on Friday and hope to post The Valley Part III before I leave. I know, I should have posted it weeks ago. Sorry.
A Farewell To Lance
Although it appears to be something of a trend in sports lately, it is not often that an athlete comes along and dominates an era in the manner that Lance Armstrong has. I know the Tour De France has been over for some time now and has therefore disappeared from the American sporting conscience, but for me some memories still linger.
As I sat and watched the last time trial of this year's Tour, and ultimately the last time trial of Lance Armstrong's career, I realized that I was truly being treated to something special. I have long been a fan of the time trial, but I never really realized how much this event really is Lance's element. It is like watching poetry. The Armstrong of the time trial is the total opposite of the Lance that we saw hammering out a murderous pace up the side of the Alps. The TT is totally different. There is no hammering (at least not from Lance). Instead he lightly taps out a rhythm. It's almost like a dance. His entire body sways back and forth ever so slightly to the beat. The yellow jersey is (as it was meant to be) a beacon, drawing the attention of all around. Lance is known for having a slight hump on his back, and the yellow only accentuates it. Normally it would be viewed as bad posture, but on a bike it gives a certain edge to his appearance. The view from the motorcycle behind almost gives the impression that you are following an animal, a great beast on a chase. His lungs heave under the jersey and give the perception that this is not a domesticated animal. It is wild and on the charge. Despite that, there is little movement from his upper body and his broad shoulders quickly shrink away as his back flows down to his surprisingly thin waist. It is here, on his lower back, that the #1 is pinned right on the border between the yellow jersey and the black shorts. That one single vertical line on a white sheet of paper speaks volumes to the viewer. "Yes, in case there was any doubt, this is Lance." It isn't just that Lance has been assigned the #1, he is the #1. He is the grand patron of the Tour. The simplicity of the statement carries great power with it. After hovering at the waist, it is easy to get drawn back up to the broad yellow back, but doing so would be missing the greatest treat of all. Below his waist, hidden in the black shorts, Lance's legs explode in muscle. As Lance "lightly" taps out a pace, you can see the power that is flowing into the pedals. It is a beautiful thing to watch. The entire body in motion on the bike oozes of both confidence and contentment. Lance knows he's going to win, and there is nothing else he would rather do. You can see it in his eyes as he stands on the winner's podium. It's like looking into the eyes of a wolf after the kill. He loves this.
Alas, as I said before, it is over. Lance has moved on to a life of retirement. It is a shame. I don't say it's a shame because I particularly admire Lance as a person. I don't. I say it's a shame because, as I watched that last time trial I realized that there is no other rider who can even approach the level of grace and beauty on a bicycle that Lance has shown us for the last several years. This is the reason why I will miss him.
As I sat and watched the last time trial of this year's Tour, and ultimately the last time trial of Lance Armstrong's career, I realized that I was truly being treated to something special. I have long been a fan of the time trial, but I never really realized how much this event really is Lance's element. It is like watching poetry. The Armstrong of the time trial is the total opposite of the Lance that we saw hammering out a murderous pace up the side of the Alps. The TT is totally different. There is no hammering (at least not from Lance). Instead he lightly taps out a rhythm. It's almost like a dance. His entire body sways back and forth ever so slightly to the beat. The yellow jersey is (as it was meant to be) a beacon, drawing the attention of all around. Lance is known for having a slight hump on his back, and the yellow only accentuates it. Normally it would be viewed as bad posture, but on a bike it gives a certain edge to his appearance. The view from the motorcycle behind almost gives the impression that you are following an animal, a great beast on a chase. His lungs heave under the jersey and give the perception that this is not a domesticated animal. It is wild and on the charge. Despite that, there is little movement from his upper body and his broad shoulders quickly shrink away as his back flows down to his surprisingly thin waist. It is here, on his lower back, that the #1 is pinned right on the border between the yellow jersey and the black shorts. That one single vertical line on a white sheet of paper speaks volumes to the viewer. "Yes, in case there was any doubt, this is Lance." It isn't just that Lance has been assigned the #1, he is the #1. He is the grand patron of the Tour. The simplicity of the statement carries great power with it. After hovering at the waist, it is easy to get drawn back up to the broad yellow back, but doing so would be missing the greatest treat of all. Below his waist, hidden in the black shorts, Lance's legs explode in muscle. As Lance "lightly" taps out a pace, you can see the power that is flowing into the pedals. It is a beautiful thing to watch. The entire body in motion on the bike oozes of both confidence and contentment. Lance knows he's going to win, and there is nothing else he would rather do. You can see it in his eyes as he stands on the winner's podium. It's like looking into the eyes of a wolf after the kill. He loves this.
Alas, as I said before, it is over. Lance has moved on to a life of retirement. It is a shame. I don't say it's a shame because I particularly admire Lance as a person. I don't. I say it's a shame because, as I watched that last time trial I realized that there is no other rider who can even approach the level of grace and beauty on a bicycle that Lance has shown us for the last several years. This is the reason why I will miss him.
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