I've ridden out to the local bike shops the past few days looking at everything but looking for nothing. Maybe a canvas bag or something to sling over the handlebars, but mostly just to see what's available and to look at gears and sprockets and other mechanical goodies.

Fortunately I was saved spending money by obnoxious staff. I have to admit I'm one of those shoppers who ask for assistance if I can't find something but who otherwise just like to check things out. What I'm not is someone who takes kindly to being repeatedly asked if I need some help. As I just pointed out to you, and did to the sales people, if I want help I'll ask for it.

I have yet to determine why so many people think it's helpful to offer advice. In the shopping situation I guess it makes sense because they're commission whores, but that hardly justifies it in real life. I'm constantly surprised, and annoyed, by people who offer advice when I tell them about my problems. Do they think I'm too dumb to know how to do things? It's the problem I want to talk about, not the solution! Solving problems is the easy part and doesn't interest me in the slightest.

But I digress.

I'm officially the last person on the planet to realize that the bike riding population is composed of health nuts. I'm pretty much taken in by the mechanics of it, but I've always enjoyed the freedom it affords. I like the slow pace, too, where you get a chance to see the world and don't care much about my cardio stats or even how fast or slowly I'm riding. Still, if I cared to, I could spend hundreds of dollars getting all sorts of measuring things.

What suprised me, though, and led to my realization that I had better change my attitude was looking over the maintenance products. Bikes can be dirty, greasy machines that require much cleaning and primping, and every one of the products does everything it can to outdo the others as far as being organic and bio-degradable and "natural." All except the teflon lubes, that is.

It's not unlike camping soap.

Call me a pragmatist, but the meager quantities used to maintain a bike (as opposed to, say, a human body, home, or car) aren't even worth talking about. Yet, it seems no one can clean their bike with anything other than orange peel oil.

I guess it makes sense that bike riders would be all about the environment, but it just strikes me as lame. The gears clean just fine with no more than two or three drops of dishwashing soap. A few more squirts and the whole bike's clean.

It's always this way: the people who are doing the least damage worry the most about doing any at all.

I've ridden out to the local bike shops the past few days looking at everything but looking for nothing. Maybe a canvas bag or something to sling over the handlebars, but mostly just to see what's available and to look at gears and sprockets and other mechanical goodies.

Fortunately I was saved spending money by obnoxious staff. I have to admit I'm one of those shoppers who ask for assistance if I can't find something but who otherwise just like to check things out. What I'm not is someone who takes kindly to being repeatedly asked if I need some help. As I just pointed out to you, and did to the sales people, if I want help I'll ask for it.

I have yet to determine why so many people think it's helpful to offer advice. In the shopping situation I guess it makes sense because they're commission whores, but that hardly justifies it in real life. I'm constantly surprised, and annoyed, by people who offer advice when I tell them about my problems. Do they think I'm too dumb to know how to do things? It's the problem I want to talk about, not the solution! Solving problems is the easy part and doesn't interest me in the slightest.

But I digress.

I'm officially the last person on the planet to realize that the bike riding population is composed of health nuts. I'm pretty much taken in by the mechanics of it, but I've always enjoyed the freedom it affords. I like the slow pace, too, where you get a chance to see the world and don't care much about my cardio stats or even how fast or slowly I'm riding. Still, if I cared to, I could spend hundreds of dollars getting all sorts of measuring things.

What suprised me, though, and led to my realization that I had better change my attitude was looking over the maintenance products. Bikes can be dirty, greasy machines that require much cleaning and primping, and every one of the products does everything it can to outdo the others as far as being organic and bio-degradable and "natural." All except the teflon lubes, that is.

It's not unlike camping soap.

Call me a pragmatist, but the meager quantities used to maintain a bike (as opposed to, say, a human body, home, or car) aren't even worth talking about. Yet, it seems no one can clean their bike with anything other than orange peel oil.

I guess it makes sense that bike riders would be all about the environment, but it just strikes me as lame. The gears clean just fine with no more than two or three drops of dishwashing soap. A few more squirts and the whole bike's clean.

It's always this way: the people who are doing the least damage worry the most about doing any at all.

Today I rode here, just to see if I could do it. The answer is "yes," and if I do it again I'll even pick up some all-meat burritos with cheese along with a side order of rice to lower the combustion ratio.

The place is an LA legend, but the "redesigned" site doesn't show just how funky it is. The chips, for example, are kept in galvanized trash cans and there's always a crowd at the joint. Good eats.

Yesterday, after close to a year of waiting, I finally got around to having the battery in my watch replaced. I have a couple watches, but only one I regularly wear, and neither of them had moving hands. That, incidentally, is about the only thing I really ask of them.

I got my watch back after a twenty minute wait, which gave me a chance to wander around the mall and avoid buying overpriced footware. I go to the same guy for a battery every time I need it, one of those booth things on the floor, and he never remembers me. I even had him size my index finger for a ring once and astonished him by giving him a dollar.

As he does most times, he tries to fix the band. He does this because I'm continually trying to fix it myself so that it locks in place. He doesn't remember that, either.

I also stopped by an elite bike store and didn't buy any incredibly expensive machines. They looked good, though, and for some reason I keep thinking my life would be better if I had a Specialized Road Bike. No, I have nowhere to ride it and lack the talent to take advantage of such a fussy bicycle, but I still think I'd look cool on it until someone stole it.

Also, swung by CompUSA to see about video cards. They have job openings. I want to get out of computers and hate CompUSA, but ...

Today I rode here, just to see if I could do it. The answer is "yes," and if I do it again I'll even pick up some all-meat burritos with cheese along with a side order of rice to lower the combustion ratio.

The place is an LA legend, but the "redesigned" site doesn't show just how funky it is. The chips, for example, are kept in galvanized trash cans and there's always a crowd at the joint. Good eats.

Yesterday, after close to a year of waiting, I finally got around to having the battery in my watch replaced. I have a couple watches, but only one I regularly wear, and neither of them had moving hands. That, incidentally, is about the only thing I really ask of them.

I got my watch back after a twenty minute wait, which gave me a chance to wander around the mall and avoid buying overpriced footware. I go to the same guy for a battery every time I need it, one of those booth things on the floor, and he never remembers me. I even had him size my index finger for a ring once and astonished him by giving him a dollar.

As he does most times, he tries to fix the band. He does this because I'm continually trying to fix it myself so that it locks in place. He doesn't remember that, either.

I also stopped by an elite bike store and didn't buy any incredibly expensive machines. They looked good, though, and for some reason I keep thinking my life would be better if I had a Specialized Road Bike. No, I have nowhere to ride it and lack the talent to take advantage of such a fussy bicycle, but I still think I'd look cool on it until someone stole it.

Also, swung by CompUSA to see about video cards. They have job openings. I want to get out of computers and hate CompUSA, but ...

I considered weighing in on the thorny issue of computer RPG realism but I'm too shy. Suffice it to say that as much as I enjoy retrieving and selling loot, I'd prefer not to think about how silly my character would actually look dragging around five suits of armor or trying to fight while carrying a dozen different swords and maces.

I may decide to name my next character Santa.

Instead, I'll offer this modest proposal to the good folks at NASA. I understand there's some exposed gap filler between the tiles on the bottom of the shuttle, and that the astronauts will be going out to deal with it. I guess the stuff serves the purpose of grout, but is more like sheets, and someone will try poking it back in place, cutting off the inch or so that's sticking out, or pulling the gap filler out. It's been seen after re-entry, but never before in space, which just proves the saying that if you increase the number of cameras you'll end up seeing more.

Turns out, however, this was a big decision for the rocket scientists, of whom I've never known one, by the way. No astronaut has ever before visited the belly of the shuttle in space, and they have a host of excuses not to do so. The extending arm doesn't go far enough and crap like that.

Now, I'm no scientist and I don't know what all's required, but I see a definite disregard here of the first rule of camping and visiting the great outdoors: you can never have too much rope. Leaving aside the question of why a free floating astronaut needs to be tethered to the craft at all (don't they move at the same velocity?), can't they just use 100' (30 meters) of, I dunno, clothesline? Is this really this big a deal?

The American Public can be glad I'm not involved with space exploration. I'd just send out the lucky winner of the spacewalk lottery (and I know all the astronauts want to do it) with a pair of scissors and a pair of forceps or pliers and be done with it. If my idea works, I'd consider receiving the thanks of a grateful nation and the difference in cost between my suggestion and whatever NASA comes up with.

I considered weighing in on the thorny issue of computer RPG realism but I'm too shy. Suffice it to say that as much as I enjoy retrieving and selling loot, I'd prefer not to think about how silly my character would actually look dragging around five suits of armor or trying to fight while carrying a dozen different swords and maces.

I may decide to name my next character Santa.

Instead, I'll offer this modest proposal to the good folks at NASA. I understand there's some exposed gap filler between the tiles on the bottom of the shuttle, and that the astronauts will be going out to deal with it. I guess the stuff serves the purpose of grout, but is more like sheets, and someone will try poking it back in place, cutting off the inch or so that's sticking out, or pulling the gap filler out. It's been seen after re-entry, but never before in space, which just proves the saying that if you increase the number of cameras you'll end up seeing more.

Turns out, however, this was a big decision for the rocket scientists, of whom I've never known one, by the way. No astronaut has ever before visited the belly of the shuttle in space, and they have a host of excuses not to do so. The extending arm doesn't go far enough and crap like that.

Now, I'm no scientist and I don't know what all's required, but I see a definite disregard here of the first rule of camping and visiting the great outdoors: you can never have too much rope. Leaving aside the question of why a free floating astronaut needs to be tethered to the craft at all (don't they move at the same velocity?), can't they just use 100' (30 meters) of, I dunno, clothesline? Is this really this big a deal?

The American Public can be glad I'm not involved with space exploration. I'd just send out the lucky winner of the spacewalk lottery (and I know all the astronauts want to do it) with a pair of scissors and a pair of forceps or pliers and be done with it. If my idea works, I'd consider receiving the thanks of a grateful nation and the difference in cost between my suggestion and whatever NASA comes up with.

I have to say -- right now -- it's officially too damn hot for me.

It's uncomfortable typing, not because the keyboard is too hot but the table on which I lay my wrists is. Yes, I could get one of those "ergonomic" things, but I'm not the type. They made me use one at work, and that's one thing I never forgave them for.

Yes, they probably do something, and that "something" may even be "avoid lawsuits," but I've never been a big fan of them. I have a little carpal tunnel or repititive stress thing in my right hand and wrist, but it only hurts (nothing worse than that).

I'm not one to check with the government to see what's been found to be unhealthy every day. When I become aware of something like that, I'm typically skeptical, mostly because I've seen the government's track record. Hard to believe, but my own personal one beats it.

The other official thing is that yesterday I looked like an idiot. I have no idea how much of a stretch that is.

I needed bread, and not just any old bread, but fancy bread produced by a NASDAQ listed company (Panera - symbol PNRA). I miss the little bakeries I used to be able to go to, but Atkins represents progress if nothing else. Not content with looking like the old photos of Europeans, I stopped at another store and bought two pillows.

I didn't hear anyone laugh, but most of them were locked inside cars draining their engine's power by running air conditioners. It was under thirty degrees, so I guess most people are listening to movies or podcasts or something. Anyway, I'm sure I looked a sight riding a bicycle with two big pillows lashed onto it. Maybe everyone thought I was preparing for a crash.