Being Seen vs. Transparency, I'll take invisible...
You ever have one of those days where just everything seems to go wrong? You take wrong turns into traffic, you drop your cell phone, you can't manage to get from point A to point B in time for the next appointment and everyone, simply everyone in the world is crawling right up under your backside? People talk to you in perfectly constructed sentences and you can't make sense out of the words? I did that the other day, and after running behind schedule until about midnight, I finally called it a day and woke up sick yesterday.
I guess I figured out why my fingers and brain were sloppy. My apologies to those of you who had to put up with me.
The bright spot was a nice little ride through Griffith Park. Of course, that whole time I was collecting panicked e-mails and messages for some deadline I hadn't known existed. So once I'm back on the road, dodging El Lay traffic, hoping I get to the next thing almost on time, it really starts to cascade. Memo to self: practice being an asshole more regularly, because being nice just gives you more to do and does not cause anyone to like you any better. at. all.
There was scout stuff and kid snacks and middle school orientation (circle jerk) and midnight e-mails. The upshot is, I got it all done, but every time I climbed in my car (loaded down with my bike, glow necklaces and scout gear) I realized that I STILL hadn't gotten a shower. Yeah, I know, TMI, but it was that kind of day. Had I known that mad dash would have resulted from the ride, I still would have gone and been happy about it.
So, despite the coughing, hacking and general sickness, pushing those pedals makes me happy. So much so, that I don't even notice I'm coming down with something until it's got me half-flattened. I think that's pretty neat and I wonder where it's taking me.
Today, though, as I passed through the whole Amgen time trials stuff downtown I realized a couple things: time trials are completely fucking boring and El Lay self-absorption really has to be experienced to be believed.
The crowd lined the route with their cowbells and noise makers, getting almost enthusiastic when the next rider went through with his support car and two or three motorcycle cops. Then a few minutes of nothing before the next guy sliced through. Not knowing anything about anything (as I do), that means you have no idea who is going by, whether or not they are on a good pace, or if there is some underlying drama adding tension to the really bizarre looking helmets and aerobars. It was even hard to get excited about how fast they're going because each one goes by alone.
I suppose one day, if I ever felt the inclination to burn several hundred bucks, it might be interesting to sit in the VIP area...where there could be beer and a place to sit, an announcer with perhaps some time stats or a big screen showing shots of the rest of the course. Other than that...psh...I'd rather sit home in front of an HD with stereo surround, some BBQ and a libation. Maybe that makes me white trash, but so be it, I do not go to things to be seen.
Which brings me to the whole El Lay vibe.
I headed down there today to soak in some cycling culture, find out what it might be about, and perhaps drum up a little sponsorship dough. Last night the beach was friendly, and I raised close to $100 trading glow necklaces for small bills. I figured cycling fans might be receptive.
It didn't feel right, and I knew it as soon as I stepped out of the car. People on the sidewalk would prefer to run into you rather than acknowledge the existence of a person outside their circle. It's a weird, self-absorbed place, El Lay. Not even New York felt as dehumanizing. To walk the streets of this town is to become transparent. El Lay enjoys itself in a very sedate, composed manner. There may be a hint of a smile, but only for people within our own pod. There is very little laughter and few outward signs that folks may actually be having a good time. In fact, it almost seems to me that people are trying hard not to show anything but this carefully aloof veneer at all times. People say that Southern California is "laid back", but I can't see it. The attention to uptight image here makes my hind end pucker and puts me on edge.
Last night, I came across another group that turned me down flat with the glow necklaces, there was a liberal smattering of USC gear throughout the pod. They reminded me of the lady with the plastic penis head gear on the pier a couple weeks ago, then one of them opened his mouth and said the same thing she had said. Exactly. Same words. Same tone of voice. Same cadence. Same condescending subtext in the way they froze when you dared breach the circle and strike up a conversation with them. "Oh, no. Thank you. We're good." I think they must teach a class in that at Ess Cee--smarmy refusals 101 or seminar in putting social chaff in it's place. Let's just say I saw plenty more of that this afternoon as well.
I'm telling you, BBQ and beer at my place next time. Who's in?
I guess I figured out why my fingers and brain were sloppy. My apologies to those of you who had to put up with me.
The bright spot was a nice little ride through Griffith Park. Of course, that whole time I was collecting panicked e-mails and messages for some deadline I hadn't known existed. So once I'm back on the road, dodging El Lay traffic, hoping I get to the next thing almost on time, it really starts to cascade. Memo to self: practice being an asshole more regularly, because being nice just gives you more to do and does not cause anyone to like you any better. at. all.
There was scout stuff and kid snacks and middle school orientation (circle jerk) and midnight e-mails. The upshot is, I got it all done, but every time I climbed in my car (loaded down with my bike, glow necklaces and scout gear) I realized that I STILL hadn't gotten a shower. Yeah, I know, TMI, but it was that kind of day. Had I known that mad dash would have resulted from the ride, I still would have gone and been happy about it.
So, despite the coughing, hacking and general sickness, pushing those pedals makes me happy. So much so, that I don't even notice I'm coming down with something until it's got me half-flattened. I think that's pretty neat and I wonder where it's taking me.
Today, though, as I passed through the whole Amgen time trials stuff downtown I realized a couple things: time trials are completely fucking boring and El Lay self-absorption really has to be experienced to be believed.
The crowd lined the route with their cowbells and noise makers, getting almost enthusiastic when the next rider went through with his support car and two or three motorcycle cops. Then a few minutes of nothing before the next guy sliced through. Not knowing anything about anything (as I do), that means you have no idea who is going by, whether or not they are on a good pace, or if there is some underlying drama adding tension to the really bizarre looking helmets and aerobars. It was even hard to get excited about how fast they're going because each one goes by alone.
I suppose one day, if I ever felt the inclination to burn several hundred bucks, it might be interesting to sit in the VIP area...where there could be beer and a place to sit, an announcer with perhaps some time stats or a big screen showing shots of the rest of the course. Other than that...psh...I'd rather sit home in front of an HD with stereo surround, some BBQ and a libation. Maybe that makes me white trash, but so be it, I do not go to things to be seen.
Which brings me to the whole El Lay vibe.
I headed down there today to soak in some cycling culture, find out what it might be about, and perhaps drum up a little sponsorship dough. Last night the beach was friendly, and I raised close to $100 trading glow necklaces for small bills. I figured cycling fans might be receptive.
It didn't feel right, and I knew it as soon as I stepped out of the car. People on the sidewalk would prefer to run into you rather than acknowledge the existence of a person outside their circle. It's a weird, self-absorbed place, El Lay. Not even New York felt as dehumanizing. To walk the streets of this town is to become transparent. El Lay enjoys itself in a very sedate, composed manner. There may be a hint of a smile, but only for people within our own pod. There is very little laughter and few outward signs that folks may actually be having a good time. In fact, it almost seems to me that people are trying hard not to show anything but this carefully aloof veneer at all times. People say that Southern California is "laid back", but I can't see it. The attention to uptight image here makes my hind end pucker and puts me on edge.
Last night, I came across another group that turned me down flat with the glow necklaces, there was a liberal smattering of USC gear throughout the pod. They reminded me of the lady with the plastic penis head gear on the pier a couple weeks ago, then one of them opened his mouth and said the same thing she had said. Exactly. Same words. Same tone of voice. Same cadence. Same condescending subtext in the way they froze when you dared breach the circle and strike up a conversation with them. "Oh, no. Thank you. We're good." I think they must teach a class in that at Ess Cee--smarmy refusals 101 or seminar in putting social chaff in it's place. Let's just say I saw plenty more of that this afternoon as well.
I'm telling you, BBQ and beer at my place next time. Who's in?