Posts filed under 'About town'
Yesterday, my friend Margaret posted a comment requesting more updates on the bike riding and, yes, that’s enough to propel me into action. People undergoing chemo can be so demanding!
The first piece of news is that Daisy is no more. No, don’t panic! Not the bike. Just the name. I don’t know how it happened. Maybe it’ll still say Daisy on her birth certificate, but Chris kept referring to her as “Orangey” and another friend or two asked about “Orangey” and I realized that somehow it just seemed more…fitting. Maybe because she’s all orange and whatnot. I’m very scientific like that.
The second piece of news is that I have become an almost daily bike rider, although I am writing this after three whole days of non-riding. (Two I blame on a family visit and one on today’s lousy rain.) The third piece of information I wish to impart — and I refer to this not as “news” because it most certainly won’t surprise anyone — I’m still not particularly good at it.
The fibromyalgia continues to be a humbling factor in it all. I find my leg strength wildly inconsistent, so one day I feel like I could go for miles (until my ass cries otherwise) and other days a perfunctory ride around the neighborhood is the very best I can do and I have to ease up even small inclines at the lowest of gears.
That said, progress is still being made. While I can’t always feel it during a bike ride, I can feel it at other times — my knee no longer hurts nearly as much when I’m hoisting myself out of the bath tub or rising off the couch after a dormant spell. I can feel it at yoga, when my legs can hold the lunges just a little bit longer.
How I feel it most, though, isn’t physical. At the risk of sounding pretty darn cheesy, it’s in how it feels just to be that sort of free, unencumbered, moving through space and still feeling so much a part of your surroundings. Maybe I’m going out on a limb here, but I predict this whole “bicycle” concept could really catch on. Before you know it, kids’ll be asking for them for Christmas. You mark my words. Buy your stock now!
I’ve had a couple of emails from other owners of Electra Townies who came across my blog entries after Googling their brand, so to them I share just a few additional thoughts. I’m still looking for some info about a bike rack that’ll fit the Townie. I haven’t done much because I’m lazy and highly unfocused but from what I understand, the longer length of the Townie’s body and the forward-placement of the wheel means the frame doesn’t fit easily into many models. If anyone out there has specific makes or models that’ll work, please let me know!
Also, while the jury’s still out on whether it’s strictly a matter of user error, I’m beginning to see why some people online have complained that the forward pedal placement means the Townie’s not great on hills. You can’t stand and pedal, which is probably just as well for me right now as I’d likely just fall over. So I’m hoping if I continue to gain strength hills will at least get a little easier. Especially since you can’t really go anywhere from my house without hitting one.
Lastly, my butt hurts. Apparently, the Townie’s upright seating technology is great for posture, easing the neck, back and shoulder strain that can come from traditional hunched-over cycling form. However, the flip side is that the bulk of your weight is distributed squarely on the seat, not mitigated by balancing some front-body weight on the handlebars. I’m not saying this is a deal-breaker by any means, but I’d be interested at some point down the line to know if a seat with shocks helps at all or if it would just be more fancy window-dressing. Which I am also not opposed to by any means.
So while it rained all day long today, I’m hoping tomorrow’s forecast for only intermittent showers means I can at least find a small window just to get back on and, as some of us in the business say, claim my seat. The weather’s turning chillier here, fall rolling in, and I couldn’t be happier about it. I love the crisp breeze on me as I whiz down the streets, tires crunching through the first fallen leaves. I may only have a couple of months left on Orangey before the cold really takes hold, but I am on it, baby. I’m on it!
September 28th, 2009
It seems that God — or whoever is in charge of the universe this week — felt I had gotten a little uppity about my bike (“It’s so pretty! It’s so cool! I’m a better person than you are!”) and arranged for a couple days of rain this past weekend. Because I’m pretty sure that’s what a higher power does: sits around dreaming up ways of putting me in my place. Thus, my dream of taking Daisy to one of our finer metro parks to see what she’s made of did not become a reality. It’s possible this could happen another time, but I prefer to dwell on the finality of it all.
Due to the aforementioned weather issues, I’ve only had a few days riding since I last posted and, to be honest, not much riding in those days, distance- or time-wise. I’d blame it all on my hectic social schedule, but I think we all know that’s not the case. Mostly, I just tooled around the neighborhood, and I seem to be mastering one of what I presume to be the key elements of bicycling — keeping my balance. It seems to me that not falling off is probably a pretty important skill to have and the more I ride, even little jaunts around the ‘hood, the less likely it seems that I will lose control of my bike and veer into a parked car. Or a moving car. Or a small child. This is all good progress.
I’m still a little skittish around cars because, it seems to me that all the belly-aching my bikier friends have been doing for years about drivers being boorish and discourteous to riders might actually be true. (If I’d known I’d wind up with a bike one day, I might have listened with greater compassion and an ear towards a solution. Probably not, but maybe.) And I still haven’t mastered what feels to me like a Cirque du Soleil-level trick of steering with one paw on the handles so that I can signal my turning intentions to drivers. Thus, I’ve been known to pass up a turn or two just to keep both hands in play. I’m discovering that a person could get lost this way.
Yesterday, I waited for the rain to stop then caught what I thought was a primo late-afternoon chance to zip around a bit. I will say this: my legs are getting stronger. The hills aren’t quite so torturous. And, let’s face it, by hills I mean slight inclines. We all know where this story’s heading. So when the rain returned, rather suddenly, I learned first hand that one gets considerably wetter on a bike than when driving in a car. I’m not saying one is better than the other, I’m just stating facts. In a three-quarter mile distance back to my house, I got soaked to the bone, but I will confess this: it felt kinda awesome.
Two things I learned about cycling in the rain, besides the obvious “getting wet” bit, which I will share with you now:
- My brakes squeal in the rain. Is that supposed to happen?
- Your pretty bike gets dirty. Dirty!
Today I ventured out for an extremely long and arduous journey. By which I mean about 3.75 miles. WHICH IS A VERY LONG WAY IF YOU ARE SEVERELY OUT OF SHAPE AND GENERALLY LAZY! I probably taxed my knee a little too much, not to mention my legs — all of which were pretty mad at me already after being dragged out to yoga last night. Apart from the times when I thought my knee would snap in half and my thighs might catch fire, it actually felt good. I went places, man! I went to the CVS (or near it). And Kroger (or near it.) I could have, ostensibly, gotten out and run actual errands if a) I had bought a lock yet and/or b) my basket had arrived and I had any way to carry anything home.
One last observation — for now, at least: I noticed that people smile at me a lot when I’m riding past them. People on the sidewalk, postal carriers, old ladies driving their cars. Since they don’t actually know me, I don’t suppose it can simply be chalked up to the irony of my being on a bike in the first place. No, I figure it must be my jaunty orange Townie, spreading love and sunshine everywhere it goes.
Yeah. ‘Cause that’s so me.
September 9th, 2009
The serial killer* who lived next door finally sold his house and moved out. It went on the market at $189,000 and the last I checked was down to $150,000. I’m guessing it went for less than that, which just goes to show you that, in this economy, people simply aren’t paying what they used to for neglect.
He left something for you on the porch in case you’re interested:
*I suppose, in the interest of dodging libel charges, he may not necessarily have been a serial killer. Let’s just say that if the new tenants happen to find surprises waiting for them in the crawl space, I won’t be the least bit surprised.
April 9th, 2009
People have been asking me this for the past couple of weeks and I have to say, for the most part, I don’t understand the question. I’m a grown up. Without children. Who doesn’t drink. What on earth would I be doing on Halloween? It strikes me largely as a holiday for kids and drunken young adults to dress up and annoy the shit out of normal folk.
But now I have an answer to the question and a rather cool one at that! I’ll be attending a showing of The Phantom of the Opera at the Michigan Theater. Not the screechy Andrew Lloyd Weber Broadway crapfest, but the original 1925 Lon Chaney silent film. The theater’s organist will be playing the soundtrack live and — get this — my friend Maggie Grady will be singing the heroine’s arias live, along with the film.
How cool is that? Very. Suitably Halloween-y for a grown up. And no costume required. If you’re in Ann Arbor, you should totally go.
October 30th, 2008
I just spent two evenings in a row at the lovely Hill Auditorium here in Ann Arbor. I don’t take nearly enough advantage of the fact that there is a constant stream of cultural events here in and around the university, but I think I’ve done my share this week.
Wednesday night, I went to see my friend Maggie — who is a senior voice performance major — sing in a chorale concert. Truth be told, I saw half the show — the half that she was in! — because the peeps I went with and I decided to get enchiladas at Sabor Latino during the orchestral part and pop in after intermission. For someone who was raised on classical music, I have to say I’m not good at sitting listening to an orchestra. I need something to look at. Like a book or knitting.
We sat right up in the front section for the chorale performance, which was basically a half hour mass. Beautiful, but again, probably five or ten minutes of mass is plenty for this heathen.
The next night we returned to Hill — in much further away seats, mind you — to see David Sedaris read. He decided not to read from his new book, but to treat us to some new and unpublished work which was, as would be expected, fantastic and very funny. I love the insider-y feeling of hearing his new stuff, especially that still in progress.
I love the fact that the pulls a little notebook out of his pocket and jots down notes, which I imagine are about what works and what doesn’t, for when he (by his own admission) goes back to his hotel room and reworks the pieces. It makes the audience feel like part of the writing process, which is nice. I’ve been feeling lately just how lonely and isolating the writing process can be and I imagine letting other people in has to alleviate some of that.
I also love that Sedaris is so generous with his time after the readings to meet with his fans. I’ve seen him several times and I haven’t ever lined up to have him sign a book or have a minute of chat with him but I’ve watched him do it. And it’s amazing how accessible he is, how real he is with people, how much he appreciates his readers. If I ever get any readers, I’m gonna appreciate the HELL out of them too.
October 17th, 2008
For some reason we’re having unbelievably warm weather here in Ann Arbor — I’m talkin’ high 70s. Thank you global warming! So when my friend Jason suggested we head to one of the local orchards for a little apple pickin’ yesterday, I was all for it. Or, you know, what passes for all for it for me.
We headed to Wasem Fruit Farm in Ypsilanti, Ann Arbor’s neighboring city as our friend Zak the Apparent Orchard Authority said it was the best. (This being Michigan, the area’s got several orchards and cider mills to choose from. Howzat for variety?)
It was bright, beautiful and sunny, perfect for frolicking among the perfect rows of trees, sampling different kinds of apples and filling up our 1/2 bushel bags. I’m a tart apple kind of gal, and since it’s not yet time for Granny Smiths yet, we stuck mostly with Ida Reds, a suitably tart, crisp substitute.
And lest I be accused of sticking with the healthy fare, it’s worth noting that Wasem also offers up some of the freshest, bestest donuts you’ll ever have in your life. We sampled a big bag full of blueberry, apple, pumpkin and plain donuts with your choice of vanilla icing, maple icing or no icing. They put most donuts to shame, I tell you. (Sorry no pics, but we ate them too fast, washing them down with fresh-pressed cider — while constantly dodging and weaving to avoid the onslaught of bees that were every bit as confused about the weather as we were.)
A few more snaps of the day:
Jason offering up his forbidden fruit while Zak does God-knows-what in the background.
Zak on his ladder.
Sarah, lovin’ her some caramel apple action.
Jason ‘n Jon.
Zak, Sarah and Chris — the blond orchard babes.
Jason ‘n Sarah.
More photos for the so-inclined here on my Flickr page.
October 12th, 2008
So here was our logic: given the small turnout Obama got in Toledo yesterday, and given the fact that it was Labor Day weekend, and the fact that the gates opened at 8:30, we figured we’d be okay arriving in downtown Detroit around 7:45 or 8 am. We were wrong. Sure, there were complicating factors that may have swelled the crowd — the annual Labor Day Parade, the last day of the Detroit International Jazz Festival and a Tigers game.
But still.
At no point did we imagine that we — me, Chris, our friend Maggie and her friend Sarah — would take our places in line at 8:30 and would patiently snake our way around downtown buildings in the beating sun until nearly 11 am only to get nowhere near the entrance gates. And only to experience the entire breakdown of the crowd system after a volunteer told us that they simply didn’t have enough volunteers to control the crowd anymore.
The mood, at first, was pretty exhilirating. It’s an exciting time, obviously, in politics and we were buoyed by the notion of getting to see Barack Obama in person, if he only seemed a speck in the distance. The crowd was enormous and the mood pretty good, overall. But the whole thing seemed strangely uncoordinated. Given how many people were lining up and given how the line was looping around downtown, we commented repeatedly that it was a miracle that people were behaving in such an orderly fashion.
However, by nearly 11 am — the time at which Obama was scheduled to speak — we were nowhere near the front of the line and it was pretty evident that we weren’t going to get inside. It was as though most of the crowd realized it at the same time and there was a pretty big rush to volley for positions in front of a big screen and that was as good as it got for us.
We were hot, tired and thirsty and we waited until nearly 11:30 for Obama to take the stage following brief introductory comments by local labor leaders. It was still thrilling to see him on the screen and to know that he was somewhere, you know, over there. Obviously, today’s speech was supposed to focus on labor and unions and Obama did make a few remarks about supporting the American worker. Then he said that while he had planned a political speech, today was not the day for political speeches, given Hurrican Gustav’s approach to the Gulf Coast. Instead, he asked us to share a moment of silence and to remember the spirit of giving and togetherness and all that good stuff.
The AP says it was a ten minute speech, but only if you count the pauses for applause, some intro banter and the moment of silence. I think it was closer to five. Which, if you had rolled out of bed at 7, as I did, and waited for three and a half hours, could be a bit of a disappointment. Or if you had been in line since 5 am, which many of those who did get into Hart Plaza did.
And it was over. Just like that. The majority of the crowd seemed to be pushing their way over to the Jazz Festival. Some were headed to the Tigers game. Others, like us, were done for and just wanted to get home and hydrated. Am I glad I went? I suppose I am. It’s just not what I thought it was going to be. Maybe I was ridiculously naive in thinking I’d catch a glimpse of the man I believe will be our next president.
I will say that it was a particular kind of thrill to be among those throngs of people of all different ethnicities, ages, etc. And there was a lot of — dare I say it — hope floating around the joint. If those people are willing to come out and shuffle along in line for hours on end, then surely they’ll all make it to the polls to vote. In which case, I guess we’ll be seeing a whole lot of change, which will more than make up for not seeing Obama in person.
September 1st, 2008
How can I tell, especially with temperatures still dipping into chilly-low places at night? Here’s how:
It’s the first Dirty Sheed of year, a summer tradition, a Zingerman’s concoction of espresso and Mexican vanilla syrup (sugar free, in my case) and half-and-half over ice. Like a cup of rich, melted coffee ice cream. Taken during our walk to Kerrytown last Saturday morning to the farmer’s market. Sipped from a prime people-watching bench from which we also spotted:
A couple with their hands full of doggies. And, out of the corner of our eyes, prompting an up-close ooh-ing and ahh-ing:
A riot of gorgeous bright orange poppies. Not a great photo, but you get the idea. Such a crazy, reckless kind of flower, no? All or nothing, putting themselves way out there. No wonder they don’t last long. It must be exhausting. Then, on the walk back home, with a sack full of fresh asparagus and overpriced home-grown lettuce, a few other oddities soaking up the sun:
Three random chairs catching some rays. (If this is a race, the one at the front has a considerable lead, it seems.) Also, this little fella:
I think we could all learn something here. This seems like an optimal position to avoid awkward tan lines. (I worried a little that this was actually the fallout from an unsuccessful attempt to fly, but I wanted to afford him some dignity and at least pretend that he totally meant to land there.)
May 28th, 2008
It’s been a long time since I watched a music video. Which is funny, because I’m of the generation that came of age just as the moon man bounced in the dawn of MTV. I remember being in middle school and going over to a friend’s house — we didn’t have cable — to breathlessly await a new Duran Duran video. (The Reflex! With the wave of water coming out at the end like it was COMING RIGHT AT YOU!) Or staying up late to watch Friday Night Videos so that I’d be in the loop around the proverbial middle school water cooler the next day.
All of this is a very long-winded way of saying that I just watched the new music video for the song “Good Day” by Ann Arbor band Tally Hall. I’m so out of the loop on local music — hell, on new music in general — but these guys seem to have garnered quite a following and have been popping up everywhere from the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson to MTVu. (See, I don’t even know what MTVu is.) I read in this month’s Observer (a local rag) that they’re re-releasing their first album “Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum” on a major label. Good for them.
But back to the video. I don’t know what the other kids are doing with their videos these days (and thus, it may turn out this video isn’t remarkable at all) but the “Good Day” video is a tad infectious, a little dizzying and fun to watch, especially for Ann Arborites, since many shots were done around town. (They’re playing in front of Rackham Hall! Now they’re in the Big House!) Anyway, I’m not entirely sure about the song — might be a little Queen-esquely operatic for my tastes — but the sheer effort that must have gone into making this video makes it worth a nod. And who doesn’t love a local-boys-make-good story?
March 31st, 2008
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