Monday, January 24, 2011

Everything from Snotcycle to dangerous quadcycles.

So late last week, the weatherfellas were giddy with the idea of a big storm tomorrow, Tuesday. Scenarios were hashed, models were drawn, and plans were made to hide in the holes for a few days because it was going to be frozen hell on earth. Appropriately, this might have made snotcycle a test of misery, further validating my decision to go skiing in PA for the weekend instead.

skiing on skis, that is. not bikes.

The forecast for tomorrow at this very moment: 54 and sunshine.

Waking up this morning and having a look at the new forecast, it occurred to me that this level of inconsistency could be produced in a far more entertaining way. Think about it - NBC 29 has 4 weatherfellas. Clayton Stiver. Norm Sprouse. Eric Pritchett. David Rogers. Right now they all give the same, inaccurate forecast at different times throughout the day. Then the next day, they switch it up, and collectively give a new forecast as our "dedicated weather team."

Why not just give each one his own bit, have him independently pick a forecast, and then present that in juxtaposition with the other three so that we can see just how little certainty there really is in their predictions. Plus, this would open up a sort of "league" mentality. They could track wins and losses based upon who was actually right any given day. And fans could get on board, sort of like how we pick a rider to follow in the Tour De France based upon their race, demeanor, good looks, and other mostly irrelevant differentiators.

The real entertainment would be the presentation of the forecast itself, with Eric Pritchett giving a forecast like, "Sunny and 54 on Thursday" only to be immediately followed by Norm Sprouse saying something like, "oh HELLLLL no. Cloudy, 30% chance of some drizzle. And how could you trust a guy like Eric after last week when he said ice storm and we just had a cloudy day. Plus, he pays for his spray tan. Screw that guy."

Anyway, here's how we look right this very instant:

As you can see, in the 7 minutes it took me to write that, the forecast for tomorrow has changed. Brilliance at work. But that's enough talk about the weather, because let's face it, you'll be riding anyway. Good luck up there with your snot and all that. The first race of the season is seldom a time that I don't cramp, so if you lock up something important early, I'm there with you in spirit.

Moving on, forkage finally arrived from the West on Saturday, presumably on a wagon train that was harassed the whole way by marauding natives given the timeframe it took to actually arrive. But arrive it did and Betty White in bike form was one step closer to realization.

a little piece of history. the Z2 superfly. the first air fork marzocchi ever produced.
not the first air fork that Jude Monaco Ortiz threw off a cliff in frustration, however.

Betty White then, regrettably, took two steps further away from real completion as it seems her bottom bracket threads have dried out a touch and the decrepit bottom bracket within is stuck solid. With force, you can turn the axle and hear ovalized, rusty bearings grinding. So, like your liver someday, that's gonna have to come out. And it's going to take some real elbow grease to get 'er done, but rest assured I'll get 'er done.

In related velo-assembly/velo-disassembly news, I'm making a modest effort to sell the Palomino. Damn, I love that maverick design, but I've gotta be out with the old to be in with the new. And I LOVE the new. So she's on ebay, but if you're locally interested let me know.

1 X 9. Single. Clean. Sagittarius. I get told I look like Jessica Alba pretty often. Enjoy candlelit dinners and love dogs. And I rally like nobody's business. Looking for my soul mate. or companionship. or even just a fling. for God's sake, LOOK at me. I'm crying out here.

And why not wrap this up with some fun. Because what the hell, it might be Monday, but the $199 dollar quad-cycles that are on sales right this very second at Tractor Supply Company can be hucked, skidded, and ridden to your death on any day. Even a weekday.

please, sir, we ask that you remove our extension cord-powered security system before rally-hucking yourself into oblivion on a product you haven't paid for.

Wear your helmets, kids.
Keep arms and feet inside the car at all times.
And try not to eat the yellow snow.

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