Too Much Fun

Through a friend of a friend of a friend I heard about the illustrius Tour De Moose, a semi-competetive event that marries beer drinking and biking. It celebrates the birthday of a gentleman known as Moose (or Kevin) who works as a bartender at a bar called Lemmons where the event began.

These are the rules:
1. Everyone has a helmet
2. No running lights (five minutes added to your time)
3. Stay with the turn sheet (five minute penalty as well)
4. Each beer is 30 seconds off of your time

About twenty minutes of biking, a half hour of beer, a group photo and then off to the next bar. Every weekend should be like that, maybe a ride around wine country for variety. Everybody was super chill: lots of introductions, some new friends made an invitation to a friendly game of bike polo and in the end some healthy competition.

Laura got super competetive and decided early on to house all of the other women AND DID!!! The four sophic women in charge of the oranizing and timekeeping rooted her on at every checkpoint. I took it easy for the majority of the ride, but was told at the beginning that there were a few people that always took it very very seriously. I decided to take the piss on a couple of these guys and had a great time of it. Lots of photos to follow.

Anniversaries

Went to my 10 year high school anniversary last Saturday. The timing with work was good since I could back up my brag of opening a wine bar with written assurances from two different banks. My high school class was incredibly small, and the reunion was maybe 35 people, spouses included. Two girls from my class are new mothers with six and nine month olds. Three of my former classmates fly for a living, for the Coast Guard, Air Force and privately for jetsetting millionaires. A good number of my classmates work for their dads, pretty par for the course here in St. Louis, but impossible for me since my old man never taught me how to intebate.

I got to see my old theatre teacher, tour the school and see what has changed. The former head of the school, who I absolutely hated was long gone and had been replaced by a younger guy who seemed pretty competent. I was a little bit worried that she might show up, since I had planned exactly what I wanted to say to her and I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself. Laura was there with me, which was great for the cool, hot wife bragging rights and so that she could get a little bit of an insight into who the hell "Teddy" was.

October 7th was our 1 year wedding anniversary, a sort of half anniversary since we were actually married in February. Laura's mom, Val and her boyfriend Bob were in town and we had barbicue and went to a new wine bar where Val gave the Italian wine selection a delighfully thorough drubbing.

October 11th marked a full year since we left beautiful, thriving, exciting New York. It's becoming a more remote spec in the rearview mirror, more abstract. I miss it sometimes, mostly the people. With some notable exceptions most of my good New York friends are leaving the city, and the New York that I used to know isn't really there anymore. This may be a stretch, but I sometimes liken the city to female characters in the Tom Robbins novels I used to read in college; beautiful, eager to engage you and completely indifferent whether you stay or leave.

The day we left, a New York Yankees pitcher crashed his plane into the side of a midtown building, snarling traffic and adding several hours to our exit. I looked out the window of our rented minivan and Laura said "we could always move back if we got really rich" it was a nice thought, but I knew it was goodbye.

Happy Freaking Bike Messenger Appreciation Day

It's been a year and a day since I retired as a bike messenger.
I've got a crap cold so I didn't bike into work.
There is exactly one (1) bike messenger in the entire city of St. Louis.
Nevertheless.....

A Real, Honest-To-God Bike Commuter

I've been experimenting with my commute route for the last few weeks and I've settled on the one that goes through a long, industrial stretch of Manchester Road. It's got a lot of stop lights many more lanes than there are cars and no one else except local traffic seems to use it in the mornings. There are a bunch of factories, used car lots, a big depot for welding supplies and the illustrious Bull's-Eye indoor shooting range. It's a lot like my commute from Greenpoint to Gawanis Brooklyn, only I'm the only biker.

Except for today of couse when I got passed by a guy on a mountain bike with slicks, full on shorts and jersey and a rack with waterproof panniers, which I assume held his work chlothes. I drafted him about a half mile, we exchanged a "great freaking weather for it" with one another and then went our separate ways. I finallly don't feel like a complete freak.

Nerding Out

One of my boss's German clients turned me on to "Meet-Up German Speakers" and tonight I went. It was me, three other Deutschaphiles and a woman who was actually from Germany, a scientist of some sort. I've never quite figured out what it is I'm supposed to do with my German, it's an odd little parlor trick that I'm no longer that good at. It's not quite so good as a hard skill. Not very sexy either.

On the work front, I've gotten one bit of good news from one of the bankers, but I'm wating for even better news from the other one. I remain hopeful that things can get started soon. In the meantime, I've been clearing out some of the dead weight in the space.

Big Week

Work is going well, met with money folks last week, more money peeps this week. If things go well, I'll clear it with my boss and see if I can start blogging about my work project either here or on another, new blog.

Here's a little bit of St. Louis cultural differences for those of you on the coasts. In St. Louis, home of Anheuser Busch, drinking beer in public is your goddamned god-given right.

Life Insurance

About a year ago I was taking in a Shakespear in the Park production in New York and I ran into an old theatre design teacher of mine. He's gay, and when I told him I had gotten married he asked me very earnestly (New Jersey was mulling over civil unions at the time) "how is it?" I told him that the biggest difference I felt was that it was now okay to openly talk about my shared future with the other person. My former teacher is good at getting expository truth from people and my answer knocked me back since I had never articulated it for myself. When I was dating, even when I was in a long term, stable relationship, I was always leery of say, making Christmas plans in August.

Now that I'm married, planning can span months, years, and now I suppose, beyond. I was just notified on Monday that my life insurance policy through USAA had begun and if I crump before I turn 49, Laura will be the sole beneficiary. It's heady stuff, but I've been raised to be pretty practical about it.

Growing up, my parents would start many a conversation with "if your father and I dropped dead tomorrow..." Family friends and relatives would shift over the years and become the ones nominated to take care of my brother and I should my parents die. Once I became an adult, any changes in post mortum plans would be covered during my time home from school or when my parents would visit New York.

It has now been passed on through to the next generation like a potato salad recipe. Mortality is inevitable, and planning for it is just another form of hygiene. That doesn't exactly take away the ol' fear of death or make me feel like riding my bike like an asshole, but I was able to openly talk with Laura about future plans, even those that don't include us both.

How LImber You Feelin' Now Mother#$@#$@

Decided to bite the bullet and take a yoga class on frida and got talked into purchasing a $20 7-day unlimited pass. I took it Friday night and Saturday morning and my god do I hurt all over.

Looked around the internet and found this great short film that I had seen a couple of years ago. It's a pretty good portrayal of biking in New York. I especially like it since there are no anglos playing bike messengers, a personal pet peeve of mine. Look closely and you'll see a Mr. Frank Boudreaux as the yuppie douchebag what doors the messenger.

And I Thought Only My Wife Read This Thing

I guess I should have expected that a blog with my real first and last name would be more than a little googleable to my relatives. It was lovely to her from my master linguist aunt Dr. Jill Robbins and my uncle John wishing me a happy 29th.

In other relatives news, my cuzzister, Carol is off to college tomorrow. She's a smart cookie and all y'all better start saving saving up for her upcoming 2020 congressional campaign. BASTA!

29 is shaping up pretty well

The birthday party was a great success! We now have more wine than god. Matt and Narcisa came back from Bosnia just in time for the party and gave us a beautiful "Bosnian coffee" (don't say "Turkish coffee" unless you wanna get a frying pan and 630 years of history thrown at you) set and a bottle of plum Slivovica. Hell yeah!

My brother in law, Alex was able to come and visit fresh from his last final of college and the day he arrived he got a job offer! Sure it's good news for him, but it will also mean vast rebates on luxury hotel rooms for Laura and I when we come to visit Boston. Double Hell Yeah!

Lastly of course is the coming of Nosey, our new lady cat who we picked up today from the APA. Nosey is named for her love of ramming her nose into mine when she's amorous. She's so far been a great cat.

Here's pics of my life lately:


Laura getting ready to obliterate the former owner's paint choices.


Milo and Pig, awkward dog cousins.


So goddamned happy to own a house I forgot to wear a longer shirt.

My Eventful 29th

Here's the Highlight Reel

-Wake up at 4:00 in the morning. Drink about 30 oz of water and find out from NPR that the European stock market is shitting the bed.

-Suit up, get ready and head out at 5:00 am. Realize that I haven't so much as taken a step with my newfangled water bottle belt, consider ditching it, but tighten it instead. I hate the belt.

-Mile 8.5 I have a minor freakout. Inside of 100 feet I feel extremely tired and my body stops working like it should. I try drinking water but drop one of my water bottles and freak out some more. In the midst of all this, my former coworker's band Au Revoir Simone starts playing on my Shuffle and everything is ok again. Thank you Annie Hart.

-I have been saving my energy for the last three miles. MIle 10 comes around and the energy is not forthcoming. I reach for external forms of inspiration and find it in the form of Rihanna's "Umbrella" which I play three times in a row. It is a good example of my character persona that Julia likes to call, "big, gay Frank".

-Finish at 6:49. HOUR FORTY NINE-BITCHES!!! That's an average of 8 minutes 20 seconds a mile, waaaay faster than I had hoped for.

-Get on my bike. Go 10 miles and realize that both my body and mind are wrecked. I had counted on this so I intentionally biked in a straight line away from my house so that I can get at least 20 miles in. I drink water by the shore of the Mississippi river and head on back.

-I'm slower than molassis save for the last 2 miles when a biker passes me and I chase him to within 4 blocks of my house.

-Shower, change, gorge. My brother-in law Alex comes in from Boston and we go check out the cat we wanted to adopt.

-Adopt the cat, who shall be referred to from here on out at "The Nose". She is getter her uterus and her claws removed, we will pick her up on Wednesday.

I haven't had a beer for over two weeks. I haven't had any sleep since my morning and I can't freaking wait to see what alcahol will do to me.

Happy Birthday to Me.

Prop S Failed by 244 Votes

Proposition S failed in a vote of 1059 to 815. Taxes will remain lower, classrooms will stay crowded and my GD property value might not skyrocket beyond my wildest dreams. Ah well.

My Brother Is Back, His Dog Is Gone

Yesteday I returned my brother's dog back to him after nine weeks of dog sitting. My bro got a great job at a summer camp in Connecticut that he'd worked at for several summers and Laura and I agreed (jumped at the opportunity really) to watch his dog, Milo.

Milo is about three times the size of Pig, and unlike our hypo-allegenic bichon, sheds to beat the band. While he is now gone from our house, there is still plenty of his hair around with which to remember him. I have to say that he was a very good, well behaved dog...after the first two weeks and after we got him a "Gentle Leader" collar. He socialized well with Pig and even if he went a bit ballistic every time someone new came into the house, he did spend most of the time chilling out and obeying my verbal commands.

I had high hopes of running with him all the time, but he has a hinky right back leg and after every run, he would limp on it a lot. I didn't want to risk screwing up his leg and having to have the damn thing amputated.

Local Politics

Laura and I just came back from voting on a ballot initiative for our local schools. Proposition S (S for SEXY no doubt) would increase our property taxes by about five bucks a month but would make classroom sizes smaller and pay for preschool scholarships for needy parents. Laura and I discussed the issue at length and decided that it would be a good thing to vote for.

Unfortunately as this increases taxes and older, childless people vote in droves. I suspect that the initiative will be beaten down like a red-headed stepchild and that said child will be ridiculed the next day in school by his 43 other classmates.

I'll keep ya posted.

Sexy Aussie Chicks Dig Recycling

In my quest for green products to incorporate into the wine bar I'm developing I came across an Aussie company that makes a quiet bottle crusher and encorporates footage of lady bartenders mulching bottles on the job into their online ad. Yeah baby!

Speaking of hot, at 2:00 pm today it will top 100F outside and feel like 108F. It was simularly hot yesterday, when I biked about 30 miles, drank a gallon or so of water and still managed to have a water weight loss 6 pack at the end of the day. Oh man.

Things Are Heating Up

First off, Laura's cousin, Dr. Amy Gershkoff just published a pretty hardcore Op-Ed in today's Washington Post about the difficulties facing returning reservists trying to get thier old jobs back. This could very well be the fart at the beginning of an election year shitstorm.

In other news the house is great. I spent about two and a half hours swapping out the garage door with the basement door. It was the first time I've ever messed around with mortising out a doorframe, which I butchered. We have a very small yard and I'm cheap (and somewhate ecologically concerned) so I got a free fifty year old Craftsman push mower from my boss and I'm loving it.

This Friday is my birthday and I'm going to be doing a duathalon: a half marathon and sixty miles of biking if I'm game. St. Louis is about 1300 miles away from a coast so the weather in August gets pretty oppressive. Friday's high is 100 degrees, breaking the heat record set 19 years ago. I'll be starting my run at 5:00 am to beat the heat and will hopefully be at the halfway point of my run when the sun rises. Wish me luck!

Oh Yeah, Did I Tell You I'm Buying A House?

After a lifetime of renting, I will be carving out my own (small) piece of the American dream. The pics below are from the listing and have the current residents' stuff in it. Check it out!

Sicko

Spent the afternoon watching Michael Moore's, Sicko with my father, my sister, Laura and some friends. It made me laugh, come to the verge of tears and then left me feeling empty and distantly hopeful.

I've had no illusions about how fucked up HMO's are and always just assume that I'll never get any coverage for anything. I have never, ever been totally honest with any doctor I have ever had for fear of having my honesty come back to haunt me. No doctor of mine has or will ever know that I used to smoke cigarettes, how much I drink, past drug use etc. I feel that I am always trying to game a system that would like nothing more than to game me.

For the last two and a half years, health insurance has been a mounting issue in my life, my work and my family. I kept my dangerous job as a part time bike messenger in New York primarily because of the health insurance it offered. My grandfather had a religious, but not a civil ceremony in order for them to preserve their health care coverage. Laura and I had a civil ceremony long before our wedding in case either one of us lost our job and insurance before our wedding. Laura and I have had several worried discussions about what in the hell we would do if she got pregnant during a lapse in coverage or what we would do should she lost her job and we couldn't afford the Cobra payments. We've also had pretty hardcore questions about the nature of our coverage and what we could possibly do if we got into a jam. "Sicko" seemed to propose a solution to a predicament like that: get the fuck out of the country!

The part of the movie that took place in France actually got me to involuntarily start having expatriation daydreams.

"How bad could it be? I could pick the language back up again in a matter of months, the kid would grow up bilingual, healthy and live three years longer than had we stayed in the U.S. Ahhh, but Laura would never do that." After the movie of course, she was quick to ask me what it would take to move to Paris. We talked about the prospect of flying to France in her third trimester, having the kid in a free Parisian hospital and getting French citizenship through our healthy, French-born child.

That fantasy is only about 25% fucked up! I spent close to a year of my life working on the Dean campaign with the idea that my service could possibly ensure health insurance for my unborn children, what Josh like so call "Investment Activism". That, of course didn't pan out like I had hoped. If the health care mess isn't cleared up in the next election, the economy tanks, and the war keeps cluster-fucking along, I don't really know what in the hell Americans will think they're getting back from their tax dollar investment.

Eco House

After reading about it in my my new favorite blog I convinced Laura to check out the new display home for Eco Urban a green building company that just started her in St. Louis. Upon certification the house will be the fifth one in the nation to get a Platinum LEED certification.

The idea behind the house in great. The houses are modular, everything is sourced inside of a 500 mile radius and it takes 60-75 days from start to finish to get one and you get a tax credit for owning it. Local lenders are lined up to give special mortgage rates for the houses because it saves an average of $300 a month in heating bills in the winter and a few hundred in the summer for electricity, freeing up money for a bigger loan.

There are about 30 houses slated to be built in St. Louis city, most of them on lots bought from the city. Because St. Louis city is less than half the population it was 75 years ago, there are many blocks that have vacant lots where foreclosed homes were reclaimed by the city and bulldozed down. On those blocks today you'll see some people holding on to their 120 year old houses, some of those houses boarded up and crumbling and some really ugly, poorly built apartment buildings falling to pieces after only thirty or forty years. EcoUrban has decided to buy up the cheap lots (for about $1500 apiece) and build their houses there.

I talked to Lunchtruck yesterday about it and he asked if it was all about gentrification. In Brooklyn, it would be pretty much that, because there's always 100% occupancy and putting something in somewhere is a zero sum game. In this case though, these are lots that no one is using or wants, on blocks where no one is investing and houses that are cutting edge.

Laura and I drove around some of the proposed sites, and while I'm sure the investment will help things along, the neighborhoods are a little too sketchy to think about moving in. For now, an Ecourban home is slated to be a the second house we buy, not the first.

Corporate Charity

Doing the full-on job search can wear you down. Flooding the internet with tweaked versions of your resume, sending corny cover letters in the blind hope that you'll be able to get a proper sit-down. Once the sit down happens, it's a high stakes structured improv and I've been falling back on my theatre training. I now do vocal warm-ups, take costume very seriously, write down objectives (what I want the other person to feel) and plan out specific actions and talking points get my message across.

The format of the interview can be a little too much give and not enough take. Most of the time you're on the defensive, answering questionse in what you can only hope is the right way, hoping that you don't get dry mouth, trip up or say "you know" too many times. After being the one to ask the questions they make a show of turning turning the tables and ask:

"So, do you have any more questions about our company?"

To which I've taken to responding with:

"Can you tell me what kinds of Philanthropic work your company does?"

The reaction is priceless. They'll falter for a few seconds, say something vague about sending nice things to the Troops around the holidays and mention something they might have heard third-hand about an event that they provided food for. Hopefully, it makes me a memorable candidate, and beyond that maybe they'll in turn ask someone else if there's a program. I don't know how effective that question is overall, for my sake though, it makes me feel good to stump the questioner.

My New Running Partner

My brother got a great gig at a summer camp he used to work for in Connecticut and in nine days I'll be taking his dog Milo for the summer. This is great news on all counts: Milo is a great dog and I'm going t start running with him, Laura and I will have a dry run of two dogs ownership and my bro will have the opportunity to make it with hot Aussie girls. Win Win Win. I also agreed to mow his lawn and drink his beer. Tonight is his birthday/summer party and everyone will get to try his new pilsner and coffee stout. Good times.

The 8 Mile Barrier

John laid it out to me last week that 8 miles was right about the upper limits of what I should do. Part of me wanted to go ahead and do a 10 mile just to prove him wrong but after doing 8 miles yesterday, I would agree with him.

The weather was in the low 80's and muggy and I was more resigned to the idea of running 8 miles instead of being pumped about it. Zoe, the malamut had just changed from puppy to grown dog chow and stopped at least 10 times during the run to deficate, so there were ample breaks and we lowered to pace to roughly nine and a half minute miles.

I had a couple of low moments where I wanted to give up, which scared me. I've always prided myself in being a mentally, if not physically tough person, and I've always liked how endurance sports have pushed me against that edge of giving up. Having conquered my endurance limits in the past I've begun to believe that that was just part of my persona. In reality, I'm only as tough as the last time I pushed myself.

Perhaps that's at the heart of my current funk. I've just lost touch with my badass side and with it some of my confidence. It's a powerful lesson, but it's something I've realized in myself and can actively work on. It'll be another couple of weeks till I can crush an 8 mile run, but I did wake up this morning without even a hint of soreness.
BAAADASSS!

The Bunnies Are No More

Having saved the bunnies from a certain death in the jaws of my brother's dog, we knew that we were just playing slim odds that they would survive in our care. From what I've read, if you take them away too soon, they might not have built up the benificial bacteria that helps them digest food and they die.

We found "Chinny" two mornings ago, dead in the cage. There are a few theories as to how he passed.
1. The cotten I found around his neck=he might have strangled himself
2. He was malnurished. Though he might have actually been a she which would provide a reason for why Chinny was so much smaller than Lefteye.
3. Aforementioned lack of digestive bacteria

Lefteye hung in for a little bit longer, but when we got back last night, he looked nearly dead, was cold and didn't want to eat. After some deliberation, the decision was made for me to euthanize him. It was quick.

Bunnies!

My brother's dog, Milo surprised him a couple of days ago by waking him up with a dead baby rabbit in his living room. A female rabbit had had a litter in a hole in his back yard, and his dog managed to destroy three of the babies and leave two still alive in the hole. He told me about it and remembering how Laura constantly points out the baby rabbits in our neighborhood, I said that if they're still alive, we could be over ther in 20 minutes.

When we got them out of the hole, one of them made this unearthly, high pitched screeching noise but quited down once we had them in a towel lined box. The internet gave us a bunch of info and so we took em' home and fed them a bunch of Pedialyte and formula. One of them had a pretty sizable gash on it's left cheek, by it's eye, which got worse during the night. We did a little bit of bunny surgery, cleaned out the flap and then reattached it to its face with liquid bandage. We named that one "Left Eye". The other one, in better shape, had a cut on it's chin that we cleaned out. He has been since dubbed "Chinny".

The bunnies are roughly 5-6 days old and the chances of them surviving are pretty slim. In the wild, about 90% of the littler don't make it, which is just as well since they would overtake the planet in short order if not for that. If they do survive, we'll be releasing them in about a month (thats my plan anyhow).

It's a funny situation, morally speaking. In Maplewood, where we live, there are bunnies everywhere and save for hopping under a car or into a back yard inhabited by a dog, they have no natural predators. I've been on a kick lately where I've been wanting to revisit my meat-eating by killing, slaughtering and preparing an animal, but after this episode, I've effectively scratched rabbit off of the list of tasty dishes.

Six Miles Mutha Fucka

Had a freaking excellent 6 mile run in the rain today. Laura came with for the first mile and a quarter and doubled back and the rest went off without a hitch. Inside of two weeks I was able to get up to six miles, not too freaking bad. I was completely endorphin high for about two hours, singing in the shower and generally alienating myself from Laura. Several hours later, I'm beginning to have some hurt in my calves and hip joints.

Ritalin and Running Update

Were I a competetive athlete and open to chemical scrutiy I might get called out on how I did today on my first 5+ mile in a long ass time. That not being the case, lemme just say that running is a freaking cinch now that I'm on ritalin. I was able to concentrate and perform quite well today. It can also be said that I"m in a lot better shape than I was two weeks ago and that helped a lot too. Tomorrow is a 6 mile run, more on that later.

Quality of Life Drugs

After my recent acquisition of out-of-pocket health insurance ($175 for me and Laura, not too bad) I got myself to a local doc. My mother told me a couple of years ago that if I'm picking out a doctor blind from a list I should look for geographical convenience and a last name that belies being one of the chosen people. Since she was in Australia when I was looking for a doctor and neither she nor my father could think of anyone good offhand, I used the same method to get me to Dr. K.

I told him about my ADD and he prescribed me Ritalin. It's been pretty good so far, not too speedy like when I took Adorol when i was 21, but I'm able to focus a lot easier. More updates on that later.

Running Again

As much as I hate it, I like running. Just found a running partner 7 years my junior and it's been working out pretty well. My idea of getting out of shape means not touching my toes, his is not being able to do a no-handed backflip at will. To boot, he has a 70lb malamut that comes along and never gets winded. It's pretty funny finding myself being the one out of shape and at a motivation deficit. At the same time, I've been suffering though it and feeling better every day.

My J-O-B situatuation came to a head today. The place that I was working, a start-up, organic pasta joint owned by a married couple seemed like a good fit. In the end though, it just turned into a completely toxic workplace reminiscent a job I had in New York where I had major beef with a guy straight out of IDF special forces. I know a job situation is in a bad place when I imagine a physical showdown that involves convincing the other guy to put down his knife and fight like a man. In the end, they wanted a further cut on my tips, I told them that I would be leaving, and I left. No big deal.

As my dreams come closer to fruition, I just want to be the boss. Soon my pretties, soon.

Toyota Beats GM Like It Stole Stomething

In high school I drove an underpowered, shitbox Chevy that got 13 MPG and broke down every two months, I vowed never to purchase another GM product as long as I lived. Now it looks like Toyota has finally overtaken GM as Numero Uno and I can't say that I feel at all bad about it. My toyota, which gets about 30 MPG was made in Kentucky and hasn't given me any shit. Hoo-Haa

Yet Another "You're Married" Moment

Laura was going through a comingled box of her and my old photos and came across a nudie pic of an old girlfriend. I took it only a couple of months before the relationship ended, but I developed that roll of film after it ended. I just put that picture, along with the three other non-nudie pics from that roll in a paper case and tossed it in my non-organized-photo box and forgot about it for four years.

Anyone who knows me knows that four years equates to roughly 7 moves, so it's pretty spectacular that the little bugger was able to hang in there for so long. Luckily, Laura was pretty good natured about it and made a show of being all pissed off and throwing it on the desk for me to open. Suffice it to say, I had a good laugh and tossed it into the trash.

St. Louis on the National Scene

Article on St. Louis' downtown revitalization. St. Louis City has been trying to make a comeback for the last five years or so with mixed results. North St. Louis public high schools recently lost their accredidation and St. Louis city was recently named the most dangerous city in the country. On the plus side, the downtown of St. Louis has seen a hell of a lot of developement and there are now a crap ton of loft buildings and new buildings going up downtown and the population of St. Louis city has stabilized for the first year since 1950, and could actually start to rise. As far as I can tell, it's a 20 year tossup that depends a lot on the schools, investment and policing.

Yarwood Runs the City

Mr. John Yarwood ran his first marathon in Boston today. It was apparently one of the shittiest days in the Boston's 110 years of existance. John was also waylayed in his training by a knee injury. Nevertheless, he was able to break the four hour barrior at a remarkable three hours and forty-seven minuts.

He told me just about everything about it except whether or not he got the Gatorade shits in front of thousands of people.

Congrats John!!!

Travel and Beer

Woke up at 5:00 am to get Laura on a 6:30 flight to Ann Arbor for a management training course. Pulling out of the driveway the empty light blinked on and after passing two empty gas stations, we turned around and used my dad's car. He loaned it to me about a month ago and hasn't taken me up on any offers from me to return it. This morning I was particularly grateful.

Went by my bro's place later and spent an extremely enjoyable morning and early afternoon hanging out on his rear porch, brewing beer and slowly shooting an ice sculpture to pieces with a bb-gun. There was the minor hiccup that had to be dealt with when Laura arrived in Ann Arbor only to find out that her debit card didn't work, but it was nothing that three hours of calling, panicing and an enormous charge from Western Union couldn't fix.

In other news I landed a part time job about two miles from my house at a local cafe/restaurant. It frees up my time for the business and it looks like it'll be paying better than the full time job I had in NC. There's actually a lot of good things moving on that front, but out of superstition and the possibility of a poorly timed Google search, I won't be mentioning any of the play by play in this forum. I will say that I dodged a bullet recently by passing on a deal to purchase a failing cafe in a crap locaiton. They just closed their doors today.

Money Maker #285

In the process of looking at different ideas for Laura and my Cafe, I stumbled up on this one:

"THROUGH N' THROUGH"

a healthy, fast food restaurant that only serves food made with Olestra. In light of New York City's ban on trans-fats and America's increased tolerance for runny, anal discharge, I can't see how it wouldn't work.


Right?

Pederasty Stinkeye

Laura's 15 year old cousin, Candice is in town visiting us for her spring break. Laura needed to get some work done, so the two of us went off to go to the top of the Arch. The line was going to be over an hour, so I bought the tickets for later that afternoon. Candice is a metabolical freak and needs to be fed every few hours, so I took her to a South City cafe I wanted to check out. While sitting there waiting for our food a man and woman sat down at the table next to us. The woman had a do-rag on and had obviously gone through chemotherapy so I decided not to stare. As Candice and I talked over the finer points of Law and Order the original, Criminal Intent and Special Victems Unit, I kept feeling a set of eyes on me. Then I caught the woman sneaking a peek at me, sitting there on a weekday, having lunch with a minor and chatting away.

When I got out I told her: "Candice, if anyone asks, you are my girfriend and we met on the INTERNET!!!!"

Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jig

Coming back to St. Louis has been a trip. There is no possible way that I could appreciate this city without having left for near a decade. Coming back, I'm looking at it with new eyes.

The first thing that's hit me is the architecture and the history around here. North Carolina seems to have been built, for the most part, somewhere around 2003. When doing my apartment search from my brother's house, I looked at one apartment that was formerly at boarding house from before the 1860's, almost got an apartment that was formerly two hotel rooms in the 1920's and then settled on a great apartment in Maplewood, Mo. that was built in the 1940's.

I would be remiss if I didn't share with everyone my experience with Mardi Gras in St. Louis. After a day of drinking and revelry in the historic Soulard District of St. Louis, I woke up in my brother's best friends brother's house feeling like absolute hell. My bro drove me home and I felt even worse. I barely glanced at Laura, ignored Pig and my brother's dog Milo and headed straight for the bathroom to boot.

As daintily as I could, I vomited. I thought that I was done and sat back on my heels then mustered myself to get up and rinse out my mouth and realized that my stomach was far from done with emptying itself. I rushed over to get to the bowl and on the way down bonked the flesh on the side of my right eye on the corner of the sink counter, saw some stars and missed the bowl. I immediately knew what I had done to myself, puked twice more and then got myself over to the sink to deal with the bloody aftermath.

Five hours of waiting and some supergluing of my face later, I was good as new. I would post photos, but hey, you'll all be able to see my lasting scar at your leisure.

Finally Here

Two days and 830 miles later we're finally here at my brother's house. Tomorrow, the great apartment hunt begins, tonight I drink Jono's beer and watch Survivor/CSI at my parents building's "screening room".

Also on the docket is Soulard Mardi Gras, which used to be the second biggest Mardi Gras celebration but due to mother earth and extreme federal incompetence, St. Louis might be on top.

Movin' Out

All right everyone, I'm the shithead that doesn't update their blog at all.

For all 7 of you that still look at this thing and don't know....

1. Laura and I will be moving to St. Louis
2. We just did a big-ass tour of the east coast.
3. Laura managed to sell the house and our furniture to a woman who was randomly living in our neighborhood.

As for the tour of the East Coast, it was a great time. Laura and I basically "porked up the east coast", eating like pigs all along the way. It was possibly the worst possible time to head north, the weather was cold and shitty the entire time, particularly in Boston. I brought my bike along and took one final ride through New York. It was spectalular. I sighed when we left drove past New York on our way back from Boston yesterday. It will be missed.

Many thanks to Shannon and Tim, Andrew and TK (fucking great Superbowl Party, you're wonderful hosts), John and Noreen, Val and Amy for putting us up. Should the fates leave you stranded in the Gateway City, my spare bed is yours.

Oh The Roadkill You'll See

My morning commute to work is through either rural or formerly rural roads. I have seen exactly 3 other cyclists and they were all going the other way. I started the job as the winter solstace was creeping up and now the days are getting slightly longer. The only thing aside from the sunrise and the weather that varies is the roadkill.

My commute is something around 8.5 miles and you see the whole gamut of dead shit. Deer, possum, squirrels, pets and more deer. I give them pet names like "Dierdre" for the dead deer that has it's tongue sticking out and it's neck in a funny direction. "Rocky" of course is the racoon that the buzzards or the highway patrol took care of over Christmas break, and "Pokey" is the name for the splayed out dead housecat that just wasn't fast enough crossing 15-501.

This morning I found what looks to be the remains of a black lab about 50 feet from "Pokey". I've decided to give the dog a one week moratorium on naming it to see if someone will claim it. After that, it'll probably go by "Lucky" till the highway patrol or the buzzards take care of him too.

2007 Baby

Christmas was a good time. Laura and I went to St. Louis where we stayed with my brother, checked out my parents new apartment and only had to listen to a bare minimum of my dad's lectures on the relationship between ancient Egypt and it's influence on early Judeaism. Go ahead, ask him about it sometime, he'd looooove to tell you all about it.

My brother had brewed a couple of Belgian beers which we both drank in profusion. The dubble was excellent, his seasonal pumpkin beer was the best I've ever tasted but his other Belgian brew was so freaking alchoholic that I got gunshy from it after the first night.

My Cousin/Sister has once again proved herself to be one tough ass little lady. She bounced right back from an elective surgery and barely took a single pain med.

My Dad is still chugging along. He's still reading everything published in English or French about his favorite subject and at this point could probably go head to head with Dan Brown if there was every a "Davinci Code" Jeopardy special.

Mom is kicking ass and taking names. She is on a major charm offensive with a large stuff toy company and will probably have them eating out of her hand by the summer.

Jono is Jono. Teaching, making art, taking classes and raising Milo, a dog rivalled only by my own. If we move there, I'm sure Laura will do everything in her power to find him a good woman.

Laura and I took a good hard look at St. Louis as a possible place to move. St. Louis has changed a lot in the last decade since I moved out. The downtown is developing at a pretty good clip, but not quite fast enough that I would move down there anytime soon (last year St. Louis was voted the most dangerous downtown in America.) The cost of living is so freaking cheap it makes my head spin, and I already have friends and family there.

There's just the matter of confronting my 18 year old self. I have a good decade and about 20 pounds on the little shit, but he is pretty wiry and determined. My parents, of course are totally against the idea of being within driving distance to their future grandchildren and tried to talk me out of it the entire time. Carrboro is nice, but things aren't gelling anywhere close to what I would have hoped. What I realized in moving here and also spending a little bit of time in San Fran and the rest of the country is that nothing is like New York. Nothing. There are quality people everywhere, you just don't get that kind of buzz that you get in New York.

New Years was spent in Chapel Hill where Laura and I had a great meal and spent the night in a nice hotel. I passed out 10 minutes after midnight and Laura and Noreen spent an hour on the phone talking about what shitheads their husbands were (apparently John was something of a liablility on New Year's Eve and had to be escorted back early).

2007 is the year is going to be a pretty big year. If all goes according to plan, I might be a business owner and an expecting father before the year lets out. If not, I'll probably have a huge crisis of meaning and have to figure out for sure what the next 25 years of my life will be about. High stakes all around, it's exciting shit.

I am competetive to the point of retardation

I went to they gym yesterday and sat down on one of the reclining bikes with Time magazine thinking that I would poke along and read about Obama's electablility. I set the stationary bike on a "race mode" where you put in the pace of the race (20mph) and the distance (10 miles).

"Race Mode" such as it was consisted of two red dots on a 4"x4" screen. One was me and one was my opponent and we both circled the boundery of the screen counter-clockwise. About two minutes in I was completely hooked and I ended up racing the machine like I was in an actual race, panting till I couldn't take it anymore. When it was done, I had sweated through both the front and the back of my shirt and I could hardly walk.

The whole thing made me realize just how different my life is here, that I have to race a stationary bike in order to feed my competetive nature.

Lapped that dot twice though. Try fucking with me next time you red flashing motherfucker.

Yeah!

No, You Tell ME What's Worse

The genocide in Darfur
The sectarian strife in Iraq
The reality of a Nuclear North Korea

We now have to deal with:

JESSICA SIMPSON PLAYING A FUCKING BIKE MESSENGER!!

Life In NC

These last few weeks have flown by at times and gone painstakingly slow at others. Our life has revolved around our house in Carrboro, finishing it, moving into it and finally, buying the bitch.

Our first week here was a sexless, suburban one which we spent at Laura's aunt's house in her son Zack's room (he's in military school). Imagine readers, being 28, freshly wed and waking up in a room with a football jersey tacked to the wall. The house, such as it was, was laughably behind where we were assured it would be before we packed up all of our belongings and drove 500 miles. The men working on the house, nice guys all, didn't answer to us, so all we could do was patiently nod as they told us for the third time that the place'd be done in just a few days. I won't go into it too much, it's not great stuff to read and anyhow, I still don't have a back deck.

While the house became livable, Laura and I lived/squatted in another house Laura's aunt owns about a mile from the other and did all the requisite nesting stuff. Unbeknownst to a lot of the good people who gave generously at our wedding, the stuff from the registry went to Laura's mom's house, where it was turned into store credit. We then just went to the Raleigh Mall and bought all of our registry all over again, with a few goodies thrown in: "A lemon zester? We-helll, don't mind if I do!"

Another big purchase was a car to replace our deadbeat Volvo. We decided this time to go with the most vanilla vehicle money could buy, and have a good mechanic give it a good look-see. We settled on a white, 1998 Toyota Camry with about 120K miles on it. Good times.

For the last week we've been living in the house which has been sublime. Now our lives are filled with the business of buying this sucker. I feel that I made the absolute most of my 20's, lending institutions seem bent on having a healthy debate on the subject. The gears slowly turn.

The weather is great, the dog is happy, and I miss you all so much. I'll do my best to write on this thing more.

The Wedding Pictures Are In

Check Out More Here

Retirement

So Monday marked my last day as a New York City bike messenger, however nominal a messenger I really was for the last year and a half. I have the same delivery route, so I see the same people and it was kind of funky knocking off my deliveries and seeing them for the last time in my life. It reminded me of that feeling the last night of a show's run where it hits you that that's the last time you'll do that scene, beat, or moment that you never quite got where you wanted it to be. As in theatre, that got me kinda jazzed and I picked up all my cues unconsciously and finished a full four minutes faster than my best record.

The following is a short list of goodbyes to people who I never really knew and who never got to know me. Both of us were completely interchangable, but they were part of my life for over a year of Monday mornings. Here it goes in order of delivery, the boring people have of course been omitted.

To the woman at the Conde Nast loading dock with the ripped arms: Thanks for always quickly opening the window on cold mornings.

To the silent guy who didn't give a fuck at Time Magazine: The whole damned time you only spoke twice, both times to tell me that you weren't accepting packages on Martin Luther King day. May your indifference bring you nowhere.

To my man at Rolling Stone: Thank you for the "good morning"'s and most of all for the unimpeded use of the bathroom key and letting me use the facilities clean enough for Jann Wenner to take a dump in. Good times.

To the wonderful women of 444 Madison Ave: You saved my ass on three separate occasions, thank you for being polite, professional, good at your jobs and good people. I hope they're paying you enough.

To the front desk guy at The Avedon Foundation: You're so damned cool, you must have been a messenger before you got that gig.

To my Russian pal at USA Today: Joe Felice told me to give you a free Newsweek Magazine every week and I did. For that, you never once asked me to sign in. Bribery really does work, you taught me that.

To the older man at the Newsweek front desk: I freaking love it when you sing! The marble makes it bounce around everywhere, total boost to my morning.

To the grumpy guys at 1010 WINS: Your office is in an underground garage, I imagine that it's the carbon monoxide that makes you cranky, thank god I never had to get signatures from you.

To the Puerto Rican lady at the Letterman Show: Thanks for letting me drop stuff off without having to go upstairs, and thanks also for calling me "ho-ney".

To Mr. Chin at Paramount: YOU'RE MR. FUCKING CHIN MAN!

To the older DCAS guy at 1 Centre Street: Thanks for being a sport about checking my tools.

Last but not least. Thanks to the good people at Lasership HQ on 39th Street: You put a lot of things in perspective for me. I know messenging is difficult cause I've done it. I've never had to do it while I was living at a homelesse shelter shelter in the Bronx or suffering from a physical ailment and walking with a cane. I took the job because it paid well and I liked the work, and above all my employer was matching me for health insurance, not because I had no other options because I hadn't finished high school/been convicted of a felony. That being said, WHY YOU GOTTA START SHIT WITH PEOPLE AT SIX IN THE FUCKING MORNING???!!! I love you all.

IT'S CARRBORO!

So here is exactly where we are moving. After seeing this, Laura and I gave ourselves the option of running in utter horror.

Strange Human Connections With Craigslist

Even though I took the ad down from Craigslist, I still get a few e-mails asking me about the car. I usually just shoot them a one line e-mail and tell em' that the car is long gone. Two days ago this woman who we'll call "judith" contacted me and asked me about the car and added that she needed it to tote around her three children and that she was a single mother "not by choice". I don't know that I've ever heard a woman with three kids up and choosing to go it alone, but I decided to ignore that particular red flag and give her a slightly longer e-mail.
" Hey "Judith",
I'm sorry we don't have the car anymore. I'm about to get married and my money is all tied up into my wedding so when the alternator died, I just decided that I had to get ride of the darned thing before it killed me (I had to push it across the street for alternate side street parking just once). I didn't feel comfortable selling it to anyone, certainly not someone who would have three kids depending on it so I just sold it for a buck to a man in long island who scrapped it for parts. Best of luck "Judith".
Frank "

"judith" decided to reward my forthrightness with this little gem:

Best of luck to you and your bride. Please know one piece of advice...NEVER give up. NEVER give in to temptation. NEVER, no never, walk away from your best friend. Because I promise you, there will be times that you will want to walk away. There will be times you will be tested as to the true strength of your relationship.

When temptation knocks, think first about who you married, and WHY. If you have lost something in your relationship, talk about it. Find it. Always remember why you married this person, what you felt and how committed you were (are). For eventually, the newness of an affair, or the newness of any situation will wear out. And, again you will find yourself faced with a decision. A decision of what to do... Go home or stay away.

Marry for life. Marry for love. Marry for fun.

I lost my husband to another woman a year and a half ago. My divorce is final on the 26th of Sept. but he now claims to want to come back home. He has just 8 days to get here before it is legally over. I pray he comes home for I have remained strong. Committed to my vows and life of family.

So, no matter how perfect life is now be smart enough to realize that perfection will die one day. Then the real test of your friendship will reach a new height. It is not a bad place to be either. To be with your best friend is a gift, never, ever take it for granted.

My speech done, I have only to say, "Be Happy and Be True". Life is wonderful, fun and joyous.

Enjoy your new life. I am happy for you both.

Sincerely,

"Judith"

Best of luck "Judith" best of luck.

There Is No Justice, Or Is There

It was an action packed morning. It was finally my day in court for my four tickets from trying to outrun the threewheeler cop. I was guilty as freaking sin on all four counts, and my entire legal strategy was hoping the guy didn't show up.

I'm a legal fucking genious. The guy who whipped across four lanes of traffic in a 600 pound car is no longer with the NYPD. Me and four other people previously snagged by this guy were all let go. It took all of 15 minutes.

I biked off to work, feeling untouchable. Ten minutes later, my steering was all messed up and I had to take the subway. Somewhere between Rector Street and Canal, my bike frame finally gave up the ghost and snapped right where I had bent it two and a half years ago. What had started off saving me $160 ended up costing me god knows how much. The Pista will be sorely missed.

What will not be missed is Laura and my first car. We ditched The Bloob with a guy from Long Island for $1 after the alternator blew. It was a pity to see it go, but the car won't cost us any more money. It was a lot of money down the tubes at a crappy time. If I lived in a different part of the country, I'd scratch off the vin numbers and push it off a cliff.

New Job

All the big windfalls I've had this year have had to do with the United States Army. I got a call from a man I worked with on the TA job (who saved my ever-lovin ass by the way) named Ross who asked me if I wanted a job. There's a guy who works with his wife who was called up for active duty as a reservist and needed a replacement. A quick interview, a hasty sionara to my old job (I hope there's no hard feelings with my old boss, but he's since declined my wedding invite) and I was off to the races.
I work at a theatre called Symphony Space on 95th street and Broadway. I'm sort of the property manager, a job that I've done in some capacity or another over the years. The gig is four days a week so I don't have to drop my messenger job and it pays twice as much as my old job. A welcome boon right now when money is tight.

Thank freaking god.