fractured reality

If we cannot muster the resolve to defeat this evil in Iraq, America will have lost its moral purpose in the world and we will endanger our citizens. If we leave Iraq before the job is done, the enemy will follow us here.

What the unholy hell is he saying? He honestly thinks the insurgents give a damn about us on our own soil? Does he honestly think they will fly over here, having finally watched us fly back across half the godforsaken globe?!

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At Planters we are passionate about providing you quality Cashews.

PASSIONATE, I TELL YOU!!!

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P.S. Do not give nuts to children under 6.

Yes, that beautiful bastard Richard Dawkins is 66 today. Apart from advancing and popularizing evolutionary biology, and more or less inventing memetics, he has done more for the Coming Out of atheists all over the world than perhaps anyone thus far.

Cheers!
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This weekend was a mixed bag of beautiful weather. Saturday it was warm and wet, alternating between simply dreary and downpour. It was a good test of the general waterproof nature of my riding outfit. The Motosport pants kept my legs dry as could be, while my jacket is suffering from some weird sort of permeability. I rode a long long way, swinging through Olmstead Falls to call on relatives (who were not home) and then coming home via 21. It was during this portion of my ride that I learned the current top-end of the bike over flat land is in the neighborhood of 70. So this means I probably won’t be taking it for my trip to Georgia, as it would take too much time to do it comfortably.

Sunday, however, was gorgeous with blue skies and temperatures in the high 60s. I couldn’t resist going for a ride. I am getting used to the mix of other motorcycle riders, most with some sort of under-the-handlebar wave, some too bad-ass to be bothered. I have not yet standardized my own wave, I simply wave.

And so, and so, I’m riding along some twisty back road and an SUV turns in front of me at a 4-way stop. I generally match pace about 20 feet behind them, and then we go under some trees and a break in the sunlight reveals a little boy in the rear window, with muddy-blonde spiky hair, looking at me. He waves, I grin like a fool and wave back, a little conspiratorial flash of my gloved hand, and he beams like crazy and turns back to the front of the car.

Gonna be hard to top that, fellow riders.

I rode to Ira Trailhead and met up with Chris, Mindy and Becca, and we went for a walk before swinging by Handel’s for some custard (I think it was not ice cream) before heading home. Generally a terrific day of riding.

Oh! I passed mile 600, which means I’m supposed to take the scooter in for its first maintenance, but it happened so far from town and so early in the weekend that I passed mile 700 as well. Hopefully I can find some time this week to take her in to the shop.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled work week.

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This morning, crossing the valley, I saw the sunlight touch the tops of the the trees on the far side, painting them orange, and my breath caught in my throat.

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