A Black Eye

Sometimes the truth is actually the best policy but it never sounds as entertaining as a well thought out story.

I like working with wood and doing home repairs. It makes me feel like I am making a positive contribution around the house and I save on labor costs since my time is practically free - so begins the story. I was working in the garage and hanging a new steel door on the side of the garage and there were alot of modifications that I had to do to get a standard door to fit in a non-standard hole in the wall. The old door had been badly damaged during the Witch Creek Fire when the firement who saved our house kicked it in. Because it was severely damaged, and I didn't want to pay a handyman to do something that I could mess up just as easily, I hung the new door. After I got the frame modified and cut to the right size, the door easily went into place. I secured it and decided to shut it and see how well it sealed. The only problem was that I had left an extension cord in the doorway. I gave it a yank but it was attached to a table saw. I gave it anoher yank with a flick too and it came loose very easily. In fact, too easily, it flew at my face and smacked me in my safety goggles (good thing I was wearing some). It still hurt like crazy but I didn't put any eyes out. During the course of the next couple of days a nice purple color developed and it looked like I had gotten my eye dotted.

The black eye was no big deal and Krista thought it great fun to tell her friends that I had gotten a little mouthy and so she clocked me in the eye. It's all fun and games until you go to a health care professional... The Dentist saw it and commented that it looked like Krista was definitely coming out ahead (she had seen Krista the previous week). She laughed and decided to refer me to the oral surgeon to take care of a pair of pesky wisdom teeth that were pushing the other teeth around in my mouth.

I went to the oral surgeon and in the first interview he asked me abut the adema under my left eye. I told him what Krista liked to say and he asked me politely but firmly how it really happened. I told him the straight story but he looked a little concerned. I think he probably has to report domestic violence and was trying to make up his mind whether it fit the bill or not. I could just imagine the police coming and arresting Krista for domestic violence - not a good thing. Apparently, I was convincing enough because he finished up the interview and scheduled an appointlent to extract my wisdom teeth. After the appointment was scheduled, he gave me a fairly long list of do-s and don'ts. As I was walking out of his office he also threw in the comment, "looks like she does have a good right hook". I guess he finally decided to play along but I was sweating it for a minute or two, earlier.

Riding My Bike

I have been riding my bike to and from work for several years and consequently have gotten in pretty good shape for riding. My ride can go through the canyon on my mountain bike or beside the highway on the bike path on my road bike. I could say lots about how I am not competetive on my bike and the ride is for exercise and cardio fitness or simply to work off tension that might result from work but I'd be lying. I am competetive when I ride. I ride with several friends who also ride frequently and have ridden for years and are in similar shape so we ride fairly fast and we have real biking gear so we look like serious riders. Now, passing someone on a bike is alot like passing someone in a car but more personal - there are those who don't care and those that do. I belong to the latter group. I don't like to be passed and most other serious riders don't like to be passed either. In fact, when someone passes me and/or my riding buddies on the trail, we usually bump up our pace to match regardless of how far we have ridden or how fresh the other guy might be. If the other guy was showing off, we might tail for a while until we see him tiring and then return the favor. Yes, it is doubly-sweet to pass the passer.

Last week, I rode to work and in the last couple of miles before work I caught up to a guy on his bike. He was in pretty good shape but I was interested in passing him and took the opportunity on a fairly long hill. I got past him and still had a little wind left so I tried to pile it on, continue accelerating and leave him behind as I climbed the hill. Obviously, he had dignity but not speed and tried to match my velocity to draft behind me but I was able to pull away towards to top of the hill. When I got to work, I put another notch on my bike seat post to represent the latest victim of my biking prowess.

The day was long and I had a lot to do so I didn't get done with work until almost 8:00 pm. I have a head lamp and a blinky tail light so I am visible and can see the road so I don't worry about riding at night. I pedaled my route and made really good time since I was feeling good about the latest conquest and I was timing a different route to figure out the fastest way home. As I was nearing the last really long hill (~1 mile climb) , I noticed a light behind me on the bike lane but coming on strong. Not wanting to be a notch on someone else's seat post, I got on my A-Game and starting playing pedal stomp. I was going a couple of miles per hour faster than I normally did and figured no one but Lance Armstrong would catch me tonight. As I reached the midway point on the hill, I realized that the other person's light was right behind me. I told Scotty I needed warp drive and started pedaling at a clearly unsustainable rate. Unimpressed, the other biker passed me like I was standing still. When she passed me, I realized two things: 1) My competition was a cheery, teen-aged girl who wasn't breaking a sweat and 2) The motor on her scooter/moped was doing all the work. By this time, my legs were burning from anaerobic excess and I *HAD* to slow down. I barely made it up the rest of the hill and as I neared the top, a couple of old ladies with walkers passed me. I think that they were probably pretty fast - after they passed me, one of them stopped and I think she scratched a notch on her handle bar - Oh well...