That's Just Stupid: February 2009

Here's a commercial I just saw on TV, entitled either "Optimism" or "Greatest Hitter in the World." The kid is *self-pitching* the baseball in the air, trying to hit it, all the while chanting that he's the greatest hitter in the world. After three straight misses, he gives up and looks glum, then decides that he's the "greatest pitcher in the world." So is this the lesson to teach kids? "Can't succeed? Just give up and change your goals; a 180-degree shift, a re-setting of the bar, and everything's A-OK again. No need to KEEP TRYING to succeed at your goals, just change 'em." ????? More of the PC loser attitude that can drag America down from greatness, bit by bit-"it doesn't matter what you achieve or don't achieve, what really matters is how you feel." Lame!

While on the Left Coast this past weekend, I went to sea with this nuke ballistic missile sub...

... and watched an ICBM launch from the sea, as evidenced by the aftermath here. This was a ridiculously stupid boondoggle as taxpayer-funded trips go, but all necessary for the sake of national defense, of course. At sea, one must eat, and while doing so, why not eat well?

So we sarfed some ridiculously good shrimp and beef-kebabs, potato salad, and mac'n'cheese at a cookout on the deck of the ship on the way back into port... Done. So what next? May as well stay the weekend (not on taxpayer dime, mind you) and hang out with Jeremy "MUXXA" Mucha, fellow Georgia Tech grad, veteran of national championships in rowing, track cycling, and snowboarding, current APM for engineering at a Navy activity in San Diego, beach bum, survivor of 31 eggs consumed in 15 minutes (the day after 30 eggs, the day after 29, and so on), and all-around up-pumper extreme.

We threw down some of the world's best fish tacos in Ocean Beach (OB)...

... ate a decadent, huge breakfast of "fried chicken eggs benedict" at Hash House (note MUXXA's stupid "I support breasts" breast cancer t-shirt with two pink hands on the breasts)...

... and enjoyed San Diego's best burger at Hodad's in (you guessed it) OB.

Far and away the stupidest chain of events of the weekend involved the Great Biking Ordeal. As background, MUXXA and I deliberated at length over "what to do" during the weekend I'd be in San Diego.
- Snowboard at Mammoth?
- Ride bikes in the hills?
- Hang out on the beach and eat lots of fish tacos and Mexican?
- Tomfoolery in Tijuana (with the added excitement of dodging the kidnappers and kidney-nappers)?

In the end, we opted to hang around the beach and eat fish tacos, with the occasional bike ride (with the purpose of making room for the next meal of fish tacos). MUXXA, a stalwart of the San Diego cycling community, is buds with a guy who runs a pimpin' Italian-style bike shoppe in town. Think "small, specialized, elite, pricey, specializing in Colnagos," you get the picture. MUXXA tells me when I arrive that his buddy is hooking me up with a Colnago C50. For the uninitiated, we're talking about an all-carbon, super-light, smooth-rollin' machine of highest caliber, a $9000 baby just waiting to cry under the stresses of Snow's swift-crankin' pedal-strokes. How can I resist this test drive? (Answer: I can't).

We visited the Bike Boutique and were greeted with a locked door, shortly unlocked from within by the lovely store clerk Colomba, a 100% Italian babe whose blue eyes worked magic as she closed her Calculus book and commenced "figuring out why these boys want to take a bicycle." (The store owner was out). Colomba contacted the owner, who confirmed our legitimacy but stated that "those guys are supposed to be leaving me a case of beer for the bike." More Euro-cuteness from Colomba: "They brought Modelo. Is that okay?"

After yanking the C-Fitty off the wall, the exchange went like this:
MUXXA: "We'll bring it back tonight or tomorrow sometime, maybe."
Colomba: "There is no tomorrow." Immediately, SNOW falls out and drops jaw, mesmerized at the utter Italian-ness of the whole statement! Elegant, simplistic, ludicrous yet true, and even a little bit dark. This girl is legit.
SNOW: "That's ridiculous! There is no tomorrow?" Beaming with appreciation.
Colomba looks puzzled but entertained by the silly, skeptical Americans: "No."
MUXXA: "So you're not open tomorrow, okay. No, no, we get it, it's just.... Okay, so tonight or Monday."

Side note: SNOW, who has no game, would only later realize that the perfect response to, "There is no tomorrow," would have been, "Well then, tonight had better be good! What are you doing?" If only...

As documented in a previous stupidpost, I had brought out all my gear for the weekend's riding:
- Helmet? Check
- Cycling jersey? Check
- 'dex? Check
- Long-sleeve dri-fit shirt (since I have no arm warmers) of some sort? Check
- Allen wrench (for pedals?) Check
- Pedals? Check
- Cycling shoes? Uh-oh.........

No cycling shoes? That means no riding.

BUT DID THAT...
I SAID, "DID THAT"...
DETER...
SNOOOOOOOOOW?!

NOOOOO WAAAAAAAY!

To Performance we went, looking for the sale o' the day. What do you know? Performance, which finds more occasions for a sale than a Bears and Stearn inside trader in February '08, was having its "President's Day Sale." I figured that I may as well round out my road shoes with a decent pair of SPD-cleated commuter-type shoes, so as to make the walking easier on the odd occasion when I go downtown to "meet someone" or wander a museum or "attend an event" like a jazz festival or something, or better yet on days when I commute via bike and choose NOT to do spandex-splits on the shiny lobby floor of my office building. The end result? This getup:

Exhibit A: The glorious Colnago road-bike, apple of my weekend eye (aside from the lovely Colomba).
Exhibit B: Blue Cannondale jersey. Legit and plain.
Exhibit C: The requisite armbands of Livestrong and CarolineCan.
Exhibit D: The MUXXA MINI, which shuttled the Colnago about town.
Exhibit E: Patagonia fleece, unexpectedly pressed into cycling service in the San Diego COLD.
Exhibit F: Brand new SPD pedals, purchased at Performance to go with the new shoes required.
Exhibit G: The ridiculously sweet new commuter shoes. Schimano black-and-brown leather tightness, perfect for riding a buttery smooth road-racing bike. ;-)
Exhibit H: Wine cork thrown down by one of MUXXA's beach-hippy wine-o bum neighbors.
Exhibit J: Long-sleeve lightweight synthetic Asics running shirt, complimentary from Georgetown Running Company via KLIM (after I did some stupid favor for KLIM one weekend, like picked him up after he drank too much beer during a run and couldn't drive home).
Exhibit K: Shard of glass that flatted one tire at the very end of my first ride on the sweet bike.
Exhibit S: Sh**-eating grin of SNOW at the lunacy of all this.

All told, two nice weekend rides around the SD, some tasty meals... AND some stupid stories.