Decided to give myself a break from the bike and instead go watch some other people rude at the Burlingame Criterium down on the peninsula. I lived in Burlingame, which is about 20 minutes south of San Francisco, for more than 2 years when I worked at Electronic Arts from 1998-2001 so it was a homecoming of sorts.

There are several races throughout the day culminating with the pro men's and women's races which wound around a short course in the heart of downtown Burlingame. There are lots of corners so many great places to watch the race and take photos. It was a beautiful day on the peninsula, so it was great to walk around the course, taking in the race, people watching and snapping a few pics. Christopher Hipp took top honors among the men, while Anna Woldring captured the women's crown.

The Burlingame Crit 2008 is a relatively minor race in the diaspora of world cycling, but Olympian Christine Thorburn (above left) was there and, amazingly, rode in both the pro men's and women's race. She was right up there up the boys unitl the end when she faded to a distant 59th. The Women's race starts immediately on the heels on the men's. It had to held up slightly so Christine could change numbers. Not surprisingly she didn't win. Clearly she could have if she didn't compete in the race right before. This must have been some sort of training ride for her.

More pictures of the Burlingame Criterium on Flickr. Full results of all the races on the official site.

Posted by andrew at 09:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Just before the Tour de France every year, European countries hold their national road racing championships. At the tour the winners of those races proudly wear the colors of the national champion of their country. It not only makes it easier to spot these riders, but makes for a more colorful event.

Here are the results:

Germany: Fabian Wegmann (Gerolsteiner)
Belgium: Jurgen Roelandts (Silence-Lotto)
Luxembourg: Frank Schleck
Estonia: Jaan Kirsipuu (CFC Sport Club)
Denmark: Nicki Sorensen (CSC)
Spain: Alejandro Valverde (Caisse d'Epargne)
France: Nicolas Vogondy (Agritubel)
Italy: Filippo Simeoni (Flaminia)
Kazakhstan: Assan Bazayev (Astana)
Netherlands: Lars Boom (Rabobank)
Russia: Sergey Ivanov (Astana)
Switzerland: Markus Zberg (Gerolsteiner)
Portugal: Joao Cabreira (LA-MSS)
Poland: Marcin Sapa (DHL Author)
Latvia: Normunds Lasis (Dynatek Latvija)
Norway: Kurt-Asle Arvesen

Sadly only Valverde, Vogondy, Wegmann, Arvesen Schleck and Sorensen on this list will be competing in this year's TdF. Kurt-Asle Arvesen.

The US National Road Race Championships won't be held until August 8th in Greenville, SC.

Posted by andrew at 10:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Saturday's ride started out great. It really did. We left Lake Merritt around 8:20 heading up into the hills for a 72 mile ride that would take us south all the way to Sunol and back. It was nice and cool. Very foggy around the lake and the hills. Perfect weather for climbing. It was a big group, over 100 riders if I had to guess. But it turned sour so quickly.

About 20 miles into the ride, I was feeling great. The sun was starting to peek out from behind the clouds, but it was still coolish. We were ascending the last part of the climb up Redwood Road before the descent into Castro Valley. Then my back tire started feeling sluggish and looked down. It was flat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!! After last week's ride, this was the last thing I needed.

I pulled over resigned my fate. Took the wheel off, got the tube out and started to work on replacing it while riders left me in the dust (literally) by the side of the road. This was the first time I changed a tube on my own and I made a nighmarish hash out of it. I accidentally took the tire off the rim completely. It wasn't that big of deal, but it just added to the time it took me to get back on the road, which was about 30 minutes.

By the time I was ready to roll again my hands were covered in chain grease and (as I found out) there was only one club rider behind me). I was exhausted from wrestling with the tire and just wanted to get the hell out of there. I continued to climb and caught up with Erin, who I found out, is married to Ray who I met last week in San Jose. She told me that Ray was well behind us, which turned out to be lucky for me.

I rode with Erin up over the summit and on the start of the descent until I realized that I forgot to tighten my back break (big mistake) and had to stop. After I tightened it, I was feverishly trying to catch up to her when I heard something funny from the back tire (never good when you're going 35+ miles an hour) and then a loud POP! like a gun being a shot - a BLOWOUT!!. A mutherfucking BLOWOUT!

I was lucky that I had started to slow when I heard strange noises coming from the rear tire and got the bike under control. It could have been really ugly. Again, I pulled over and started to go work on the bike. Only this time, I had no spare tube and no CO2 cartridge to inflate the tube that I didn't have. Plus the tire was hosed. Right where the blowout occurred—near the stem, the edge of tire was completely frayed. It wasn't sitting right in the rim and was putting too much pressure on the tube which then exploded.

Ray almost zipped past me. He asked if I had everything I needed and I said NOOO!!!. and it was just loud enough for him to hear me and stop. What a saint this guy is. He gave me his spare tube and together we went to work on fixing the flat. Do you know how long it takes to inflate a tube with a hand pump? A fucking long ass time. But we got it fixed and headed down the road together at a very modest pace, let this tube explode.

When we finally met up with Erin down in Castro Valley, she told us the group she had been with (this is the "Light" group had left the rest stop about 30 minutes earlier). Who knows how far down the "Advanced" group that I normally ride with was. Too far ahead to even contemplate.

I let Ray and Erin carry on and I went off in search of bike shop to get a new tire. It was easy to find (more or less) since I have Google Maps on my Blackberry. I landed at Eden Bikes. When I got there, the tube was on the edge of blowing. It looked like it had an embolism. Fairly frightening stuff. I paid more for a new bike tire than I paid for my all terrain mud and snow tires on the Subaru. Good thing I only needed one of them. I loaded up on spare tubes and CO2 and hit the road.

But my heart wasn't really in it. I didn't want to head down the lonely road to Sunol on my own. Not today. Not after what just happened. But I did make the Dublin Grade and flew down (42 MPH) into Pleasanton where I had a friend pick me up and take me to lunch.

I'm bummed that I didn't get to finish the ride, but I'll get it some other day. Maybe this weekend if I'm feeling up to it.

Miles 31.60
Ride Time 2:22:07
MPH 13.2
Max Speed 42
Average Cadence -
Flats 2 (including a blowout)

Here's the route map:

and the elevation:

Posted by andrew at 09:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I've been meaning to write about this for a while now, but it's official: I'm a Mac guy.

I've always liked Apple. We had an Apple II back in the 70s, I used Macs (not my own) all through college to write papers. I did nonlinear video editing on a Mac (Media 100) back when I was making quicktime video highlights as part of my job as the producer of the World Sports pages for CNNSI.com. However when it came time to buy my first computer (1996, Computer City, Atlanta), I bought a PC clone. I had been buying PCs ever since. And I've been frustrated beyond belief and wanted to destroy every one of them.

I had never had my own Mac until recently. Now I have 3. Granted one is the iMac I use at work, and I still have 2 PCs, but I have 2 Macs at home.

One is a G4 desktop, which I don't use all that much. I'm working on upgrading it. Just upped the RAM to 1GB and bought a wireless card for it. It still runs OS 10.3 so I need to get a copy of Tiger (It won't support 10.5 since it's only 800 MHz).

The other is my 17" MacBookPro which I absolutely love. Sleek and shiny and almost never crashes, which is more than I can say for any PC I've had used. I put a lot of pressure on it by multitasking and running too many apps at the same time. Mostly the machine handles anything I throw at, but every once in a while, it craps out. It doesn't help that I have over 5,000 fonts installed. I'm just too lazy to deal with managing them.

I still run one of notebook PCs because there are some applications (Half-Life, Autostitch, etc.) that don't run on the Mac or I don't have their Mac equivalent. Every time I get on the PC, I'm reminded how crappy they are. I don't know what the problem is exactly, maybe some spyware or a trojan I can't detect or get rid of, but the system is so fucking slow to do anything. When the "flashlight" comes on repeatedly when you open "My Computer", you know there are real issues.

It's hard for me to imagine myself ever buying a PC again. There would have to be a radical sea change that I don't expect. Microsoft seems to be going in reverse when it comes to OS performance and quality while Apple, with a huge advantage to begin with, keeps getting better and better. More applications are being wirrten for the Mac as it chips away at the PC market share, which is fantastic. The only left to do is by stock in Apple.

Posted by andrew at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by andrew at 10:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

One of the artists sent this image around this morning and I thought it was so cool, I had to share. Many more great foggy images of Dubai skyscrapers on Google Images. If you ever wondered where a good chunk of the $4.50 a gallon you're paying for gas/petrol is going, now you know. [also going here].

Posted by andrew at 10:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The first of the Euro 2008 semifinals will be kicking off later today, Germany v. Turkey. You have to believe that this is the end of the line for the Turks. They've had a great run with two scintillating comeback wins against the Czech Republic and Croatia, but half the team is sidelined due to injury or suspension and, well, they are playing Germany. Expect a resounding Teutonic victory.

The other semi is rematch of a group play game between Spain and Russia which the Spaniards took handily 4-1. I don't think it will be so easy this time, but the result should be the same. I do expect the game to be very exciting as both teams play a positive brand of football.

Thankfully the Spanish dispatched the Italians in the quarters. I just can't stand watching Italian football. Sure, they have talented players, but they simply play the most regressive football in the world. They play not to lose, pack in the defense so there's no hope for the other team to score and try to get lucky on the few half-chances they are able to generate. If they don't manage to score, they're happy to take their chances in penalty shootout with Buffon.

Sure, they've won a few games playing that style, but they certainly haven't won many fans. And it's backfired on them a few times, most notably in the 94 World Cup final against Brazil (most boring game ever—thankfully Baggio missed his penalty and the Brazilians won) and again here in Euro 2008 (probably many more times). The Italians are the exact reason why so many Americans think soccer/football is boring.

My predictions have been horrible, but I hope to see Spain and Germany in the final with Spain finally breaking through with a major tournament win behind the strength of David Villa and Fernando Torres. However, German air power and height advantage could be the Spaniards undoing. However, let's see if they can get by Russia and Turkey first.

Posted by andrew at 09:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I got to the top of the ride, at the Oakland Mormon Temple, took out my camera to take a shot of the hazy skyline below—there have been fires raging all week since the electrical storms over the weekend started hundreds of wildfires—and I realized I forgot to put the battery back in. I probably shouldn't have been riding, but other than the haze (and the all the particulants in the air) it was a nice day.

Miles 27.82
Ride Time 1:57:09
MPH 14.1
Max Speed 33.8
Average Cadence -
Flats 0

Here's the route map:

and the elevation:

Posted by andrew at 10:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

The prospect of 5 dollar a gallon gas has finally got the attention of the Big 3 automakers in Detroit. Chevy is now working on a plug-in electric car dubbed "The Volt". Not very manly, but to the point. According to the website, if you drive less than 40 miles a day (and that's most people), you'll use zero gallons of gas and produce no emissions.

Sure this technology already exists. And sure, Detroit is way late (again) to this game. However, the Big 3 have such a huge impact on car buying trends in the bulk of the country (not so much on the west coast), that it it critical that they get aboard the green bandwagon.

Of course these are the same guys that produced and then killed the EV1. They address this on the site by saying "its timing wasn't quite right", which is a bunch of crap. They had to pry those vehicles away from their impassioned owners who followed them to the Arizona desert where they were summarily crushed, lest anything get in the way of our gas powered economy. You can see the whole sordid story in the riveting documentary Who Killed the Electric Car?

I sure hope they get it right this time. I'm tired of getting 20 miles to the gallon. I just can't find a decent alternative to AWD Subaru. I just don't drive my car much these days and will be doing a lot of carpooling come ski season.

I like the way the Volt looks, not that I'd ever buy an American car. I still don't understand why all the hybrid and electric cars have to look so different. Why can't they put new technology in a standard looking car?

Posted by andrew at 05:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Just heard about this story of fat fine being imposed on Japanese companies who have obese office workers over 40.

Under a national law that came into effect two months ago, companies and local governments must now measure the waistlines of Japanese people between the ages of 40 and 74 as part of their annual checkups. That represents more than 56 million waistlines, or about 44 percent of the entire population.

Those exceeding government limits — 33.5 inches for men and 35.4 inches for women, which are identical to thresholds established in 2005 for Japan by the International Diabetes Federation as an easy guideline for identifying health risks — and having a weight-related ailment will be given dieting guidance if after three months they do not lose weight. If necessary, those people will be steered toward further re-education after six more months.

Sounds a bit authoritarian for a democracy (re-education?). All in the name of health though, so it's hard to really complain (re-education? really?). Of course, being Japanese, they have a cute propaganda cartoon to promote the policy. Presumably Sumo wrestlers are exempt.

What's scary is that we Americans are so fat. 39 inches is the average waist line for American men? I bet that's an underestimate. It might be a problem in Japan if they eat shit like this. If Americans ate the same healthy diet that the Japanese eat (fresh fish, seaweed, fresh veggies, not much deep fried and very little packaged food), we'd be much better off.

Posted by andrew at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

With gas approaching 5 bucks, we should expect local government officials to do everything in their power to promote cycling. Instead we get shit like this:

County considers tightening rules on cycling excursions

By Karen Holzmeister
The Daily Review
Article Created: 06/23/2008 12:02:51 AM PDT

CASTRO VALLEY — The county is circulating a new "bicycle event" law proposal that would make excursions on country roads more difficult and expensive for organized cycling clubs.

County Supervisor Nate Miley said the law would balance the concerns of bicyclists and residents.

"We want people to ride bicycles, and not to impose unfair burdens on people who live along (rural) roadways," Miley explained.

The proposal would primarily affect roads in unincorporated Livermore, Pleasanton and Sunol. However, it also would cover portions of Crow Canyon, Cull Canyon, Eden Canyon, Lake Chabot, Palomares and Redwood roads, and East Castro Valley Boulevard.

For years, bands of bicycle riders have irritated residents living along rural roads.

The cyclists often clog narrow roads at unexpected times, dump litter and take restroom breaks at inappropriate places, the residents have claimed during a decade of meetings with elected and appointed Alameda County representatives.

Under the proposed new law, organizations with advertised rides and 50 or more riders would have to apply for permits, which the Alameda County Sheriff's Office could approve or deny. The permit would cost $189. Another $150 fee would be required for informational signs, which the county would post along the requested route.

Groups with 49 or fewer riders would not be subject to permit requirements. The sheriff's office estimates that rides with a few hundred to a few thousand cyclists occur about 20 times a year.

The proposal was introduced last week to Castro Valley Municipal Advisory Council members, who had mixed reactions.

Council member Dave Sadoff called the proposal "not an unreasonable approach," while member Cheryl Miraglia claimed it went "overboard." The law wouldn't take effect until it is approved by county supervisors. As of Friday, no date had been set for a hearing.

The East Bay Bicycle Coalition, which advocates for cyclists in Alameda and Contra Costa counties, is batting 0-for-3. Nearly a year ago, as the ordinance was being drafted, the coalition told the sheriff's office that signs were unnecessary. The Oakland-based organization asked that the 50-cyclists threshold be removed and the term "bicycle event" — which could trigger the need for event liability insurance — be eliminated.

I love the "bands of bicycle riders" reference. As if we are roaming brigands irritating the local populace with our vulgar ways. I understand that there's tension on the roads between cyclists and motorists. Always has been, always will be. Cyclists don't want to get run over and killed and motorists don't want to be delayed even for 5 seconds getting to where they want to go. But this whole law would be absurd. For the record, I've never seen anyone in my club litter or "take restroom breaks at inappropriate places". That's why the baby Jesus invented rest stops, which are built into every club ride. One imagines the locals think cyclists drop their shorts and crap by the side of their road. It's batshit craziness.

Essentially what it would do is to force the Yellowjackets to pay both for a permit and a fee to ride just about every Saturday. If it does pass, I think we should send out riders in groups of 49 and then ride 5 abreast down the narrow rural roadways referred to by Supervisor Miley. Fuck 'em.

Write to Supervisor Miley and tell him what he can do with his law.

More information:

• Bicycle Event Ordinance in the news
• Letter to Supervisor Nate Miley on the proposed Alameda County Bicycle Ordinance
• Anti-Bike Event Law Proposed In California
• County considers tightening rules on cycling excursions

Posted by andrew at 04:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's amazing the difference 30 degrees can make. This morning, I woke to sunny skies and a perfect crisp 75 degrees. I slept like a log last night and had a massive nap after I returned from San Jose, so I felt pretty good this morning and decided to go for a little ride.

I'm getting pretty familiar (and much better) and the Tunnel Road climb. Past there, it's a fun little climb up Grizzly Peak beyond Skyline, something I hadn't done before. The views of the East Bay and the city, marred by a line of brown smog on the horizon, are still amazing. After Grizzly, the route rips through Tilden Park along Wildcat Canyon and down to San Pablo Dam.

Up and around El Sobrante and it's all downhill, albeit with a slight headwind down through Richmond, El Cerrito, Albany, Berkeley to Emeryville and Oakland.

Nice little ride.

Miles 42.34
Ride Time 3:09:39
MPH 13.3
Max Speed 35.5
Average Cadence -
Flats 0

Here's the route map:

and the elevation:

Posted by andrew at 07:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Saturday's ride was always going to be a fucking a nightmare. The length and the profile just didn't look like fun. Add in a 40 minute drive down to San Jose for the start and a little heat wave and you've got the recipe for unmitigated masochism. Here's how it went down.

We got a late start (big news). Dan was supposed to meet me at Lake Merritt for the ride down to Hellyer Park in San Jose, but when I texted to let him know I was on my way, I woke him up. It actually turned out to be a lucky break because another club rider, Lauren, showed up late and wouldn't have the ride down to the start if we were on time.

The ride left at 8:20, as usual, and we pulled out of the Hellyer parking lot at about 8:40. It didn't take us long to start reeling in riders, although there was only a handful, around 25 I later learned, who decided to take up the day's challenge.

We first caught up with Ray, a club member and a grandfather. Since we had dropped Lauren way back, I suggested to Dan that we hang with Ray until Lauren caught up and then they could ride together. This both gave me a break and allowed me to talk to Ray who's incredibly inspirational. It was tough for me to be out there in this heat. I can't imagine how Ray who is closing in on 70 felt. But there he was chugging away at the pedals, not too fast, but fast enough. I hope that I have the strength to ride when I have a grandkids. Of course, the way things are going, I'll be 90 when I have grandkids and will likely be closer to Ray's age when I have kids of my own, but I digress. Lauren eventually caught up and Dan and I headed up the road.

I was carrying two water bottles in my cages and had my Camelback (actually North Face) filled with 2 liters of ice water. It wasn't nearly enough. Early on, it wasn't that bad. There was a breeze and because the route was flat and we were cruising along at a good clip, you didn't feel the heat. It wasn't until we started the first climb up Metcalf Road that we felt the blast furnace.

At 9am, the temp was hovering around 100 degrees. The climb up Metcalf is steep enough that I could only maintain about 5 miles per hour, which is almost like standing still. The sun was beating down on my body and it was so hot it was hard to breath.

I recovered somewhat on the harrowing descent—curvy and slick because all all the motorcycles and grease monkeys making their way to and from Motorcycle Country Park and long. I had to break so much my hands were cramping by the time I reached the bottom. I really need to get better at descending.

We had a little regroup at the bottom. There were about 8 of us assembled there, refueling with Cliff Bars, Power Gu and sports drinks. We rode together for all of about 5 minutes when my back tire started fishtailing. Flat as a fucking board. I dragged the bike forward into the shade and got to fixing it. Fortunately Dan was there to help because I don't have that much experience fixing a flat in the field. I learned how to do when I lived in the Samoa, but that damn Chinese made Trek never did get a flat the whole time I lived here. It's a good thing, because it's really a pain in the ass—even worse when the temps are hovering around 105.

Flat fixed, we hit the road again. We caught up to the group a few miles down the road as they were pulling away from a roadside farm stand where they were taking a break. It's straight and flat down Halve Rd., but, wow, was it hot, like a frying pan. Not much to look at, just farms on the side of the road and very dusty.

It was with great pleasure that we turned right on Willow Springs and headed back into the hills. Sure, it meant climbing, but at least there was some shade and the winding roads are always preferable to a seemingly endless and virtually straight highway.

I bonked just before the summit with about 10 meters to go and had to take a short break before I pushed myself up the last little bit. At the top was a little oasis—a strip of grass in front of someone's gated house that become a makeshift rest stop/triage area.

A bout of extreme sensibility kicked in and we, in the interest of self-preservation, decided to cut the ride short and skip the massive climb up Hicks Road. If you see the part of the ride profile that looks like a needle sitting on its end, that's the part we skipped and wisely so.

Tough to say how long we were there at the top of Willow Springs, but if I had to guess, I'd say at least 30 minutes. About a dozens riders rolled away together down the hill, but I wasn't one of them. As soon I hit the road, I realized something was not quite right with the bike. I stopped, looked down and, and saw that I had another fucking flat. Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Lucky for me, Jennifer in the support vehicle pulled up at that moment, gave me a spare tube and a pump and changed the flat, again. Without her, I don't know what I would have done. Dan was there and had another tube, but we used his only CO2 cartridge to fix my first flat (mine turned out not to be enough). We were the last riders on the road since the light riders took off for home well before they could get to Willow Springs. It was damn lucky.

Again, bike in one piece, we hit the road down the hill. The ride was only about half way over and we had a long way to go. But the climbs and the worst of the ride were behind us. While we couldn't exactly coast down to the finish line, at least we wouldn't have to struggle too much to get there.

I needed a break about the time we hit the entrance to the Calero Reservoir. We stopped and bought ice cold Gatorade from some guy with a food cart. Then the most amazing thing happened. The skies opened up and it started to pour on us. Glorious fucking rain!

Clouds had been gathering all day in a way very unCalifornia. Big puffy clouds of the kind I'm used to seeing in the tropics. When we arrived at Calero, the clouds had sort of gathered together into a critical mass of precipitation and for about 5 whole minutes, the rain came down, the temps dropped about 20 degrees and it was so damn refreshing. Just what we needed to keep us going to the finish line. Richard was there in the second SAG vehicle with more water and encouragement. I don't know what we would have done without them.

We continued down the road and eventually caught up to the group we had been with at the top of Willow Springs. One more break at some gas station at the Alamaden Expressway to top off the water bottles and use the facilities and it was flat all the way home to Hellyer Park.

All in all, it was a fucking nightmare, something I never hope to repeat. I want my cycling to be challenging and fun. Not excruciating and miserable. The headwinds on Altamont were bad, but nothing compared to the heat of San Jose. It was just downright hellish.

Here's a report from club member Royston:

Saturday, San Jose, What can I say, I was hotter than a cat on a hot tin roof. I could have been horrible. Last year, I had a gallon of water going out. This year, I had a gallon and a half and it was almost gone by Willow Springs. I want to thank Richard Reed, Jenifer Williams and her sister Audrey. They were like angels with cold water. I was at the top of Willow, recovering from the climb with fellow OYJs who had experienced their second flat. Jenifer was there with water and the call came in More Water at Calero Reservoir. She said Richard had emptied his fifth container of water. I am glad they were there to SAG. Memorable mention. Kinda funny to get caught in a cloud burst rain in Cali for (5) minutes

All in all, I think I drank about 10 liters of water on the ride, but it wasn't enough. I had a massive headache on the ride back to Oakland. I crashed when I got and slept the sleep of the dead.

Miles 49.27
Ride Time 3:41:19
MPH 13.2
Max Speed 37.5
Average Cadence -
Flats 2

Here's the route map:

and the elevation:

Posted by andrew at 07:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Friday night we went to SF Opera's annual Opera at the Ballpark at the Giant's AT;&T Park. It's a free event. All you need to do to get tickets is to register online. My company is one of the major sponsors, so we had didn't have to sit with the hoi polloi (we did anyway).

Our luxury box was the 3rd base dugout. That's the Giants dugout in case you're scoring at home. There was a bar with beer, wine and soft drinks and an appetizer table with cheese, empanadas and other little bites. We got to sit and enjoy fine food and the opera in the same place Barry Bonds used to spit sunflower seed shells (and around the corner from he used to shoot up).

The opera was Lucia di Lammermoor by Gaetano Donizetti which was being performed over at the SF Opera house and simulcast on the stadium's Mitsubishi Electric Diamond Vision scoreboard. Here's the setup courtesy of the SF opera website:

In a feud between the Scottish families of Ravenswood and Lammermoor, Enrico Ashton of Lammermoor wrongfully holds the estates of Edgardo Ravenswood. In addition, Enrico's political activity against the king has placed him in a perilous situation, and he has resolved to reestablish his family's position by marrying his sister Lucia to Lord Arturo Bucklaw.

The plot follows familiar themes. Lucia is in love with some dude, but her brother, Enrico, wants to marry this other dude. Lucia goes crazy. She kills her arranged husband. She dies. Then the first dude kills himself expecting to be reunited with Lucia in heaven (won't he be disappointed.)

A couple of observations:

• I know the opera was written by an Italian, but it's about Scotland, so there should have at least been one Hamish among all the Enrico's, Edgardo's and Arturo's.
• The video on the stadium's 3200-square-foot HD TV was impressive, but the sound wasn't synched so it was kind of like watching a badly dubbed kung fu movie.
• It was strange watching the opera while people all around us were eating garlic fries and corn dogs. Just didn't seem right.
• Even with all this death, there just wasn't enough blood for my tastes. I need more gore in my opera
• The opera makes for great people watching
• The government needs to start a program to provide full length mirrors for the stylistically challenged.

It was supposed to be a freezing night (as many are at this ballpark) and we were warned repeatedly to bring heavy jackets and blankets, but it was a perfect night, I'd say in the mid-70s. It was just perfect for enjoying the opera.

Posted by andrew at 06:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I've been catching a few of the Euro 2008 games here and there (whenever I can remember to record them), and I have to say that I can't remember a series of more interesting games in a major competition. World Cup, while it's fun to watch, often pits two sides that are playing not to lose. The classic example is the 2004 final between Italy and Brazil. Only a handful of games are really interesting. The rest are marred by negative football.

On the other hand, Euro 2008 had been nothing but end to end, action-packed positive football. Tackling is fierce. Goals, while not plentiful, have been exciting. Goal keeping has been great. Teams are well matched.

Could it be because poor England didn't qualify? It's easy to blame the English (what say you, Phil?)

We're one game into the quarters. Yesterday Germany dispatched Portugal 3-2 in a game that would have been much more exciting (for me) had not the BBC divulged the results before I had a chance to watch. Germany looked really good, although Ballack did push the defender in the back before heading in the goal that turned out to be the game winner.

I have high hopes for the remaining games. We've got Croatia v. Turkey today. Netherlands v. Russia on Saturday and Spain v. Italy on Sunday. I'm hoping that the Dutch finally pull through and win a major tournament. They have a fantastic team and are really fun to watch. Of course, they'll have to get by Russia and the magician Guus Hiddink and then eventually (probably) their nemesis, Germany, to win it all, but if they ever had the team to do it, this is the one.

Posted by andrew at 04:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

An oldie, but a goodie. I had little fish spill. Some blood from the fresh Skipjack tuna (for cat food) I had bought at the market leaked all over the fridge. When I was in there cleaning the gunk up, Mak got in and decided to help out. What a sweet cat. [There are notes on this photo that you can see on Flickr.]

Posted by andrew at 11:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It sucks to lose things. It really sucks. You've earned money. Paid taxes on that money. Diligently researched what you want to buy. Shopped around for the best price. You've invested a lot of time and energy into "stuff". And then just to lose it? Well that fucking sucks.

It's even worse if what you lose is something that's either precious and irreplaceable or expensive. With a camera, it's often both. You have the cost of the replacing the camera and the memory card and the case and whatever other accessories might have gone missing. Plus you lose the film or memory card and all the pictures you've taken that just can't be replaced.

I once lost a camera while I was skiing in Turkey. It was at the end of my Turkish
adventure. I regretted losing the camera, even though it was a shitty Olympus point and shoot. It had a roll of pictures in there from my day of skiing and it was attached to an old school mini tripod that my grandfather had given me. I think it fell out of my backpack, but I'll never know for sure.

I thought I had a repeat of this event this week. When I got back from Santa Cruz on Sunday, I couldn't find my new Canon G9. It simply disappeared. It wasn't in either of the bags I brought although I searched both thoroughly several times. It wasn't in any pockets of clothing. It wasn't in the cooler. It wasn't in any of the places I normally stashed it. It wasn't in the car (or so I thought). I figured maybe I left in on the roof of the car when I drove off, which I've done before (thankfully not with a camera). Or maybe I left it at my friend Karen's house. I just didn't know.

I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the last time I used it and the only thing I could come up with was that I had taken some shots of Santa Cruz from West Cliff just before we went off to meet Karen. After that it was all blank. It was all but written off. But the morning, I had an epiphany that I had put it in the glove compartment. I couldn't remember doing it. Couldn't imagine why I would. But when I went to check it, there it was, sitting in the glove compartment, safe and sound.

*Of course, this is sort of a stupid thing to say. If you're looking for something and you find it in the first place you look, it is de facto the last place you look. But I think you know what I mean.

Posted by andrew at 10:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I went for a little ride after work today. It was fucking hot. Scorching in the city. Over 90 degrees in Emeryville, which is really unusual. I saddled up around 6pm,. It had cooled off somewhat, but the sun was still beating down on me. I took two frozen water bottles with me, but it wasn't really enough. Within 45 minutes, they were both warm. I headed over to Lake Merritt and wound my way through the Oakland hills to Montclair. It was a killer. I got lost, ended up on some unnecessarily steep hills.

About 10 miles and one hour into the ride, I hit Joaquin Miller Park and it got really steep. I don't know the grade, but it's enough to get me out of the saddle for most of its 5.7 miles. I think I would have made it to the top, but I'll never know, because right near the summit, my chain seized up and I toppled over. Lucky for me, I was only going about 3 miles an hour, so breaking my fall with my hand was no big deal.

It always sucks to go over. It's stunning in the moment just before you crash when you realize that you're going to hit the pavement and there's nothing you can do about it. It all happened so fast, there was no way to clip out. I was just along for the ride on the machine.

People are so nice in the East Bay. Just after my crash, a woman stopped to see if I was okay. She probably witnessed the entire embarrassing event. I told her I was fine, and she moved on. Then, as I was checking out the bike to see what the problem was, another guy stopped and asked me if I wanted to use his phone. But I don't have anyone's phone number memorized. In the information age, I've lost the ability to remember anything. And I don't know why, but I didn't have my phone with me. So no calls.

Back to the bike, I knew immediately I was fucked. The rear derailleur was bent in half and the chain was totally jammed. I tried for 5 minutes the get the chain loose, but only managed to snap the motherfucker in half. All I wanted to do was get the thing loose so I could glide down Joaquin Miller and back down to the flats. Not sure what the fuck I'd do down there since it was closing in 8pm and even if I did come across a bike shop, most likely it would closed. And now, without a fucking chain and without my fucking phone, I was stranded.

As I was riding up the hill, I passed a couple sitting the by other side of the road working on their mountain bikes. I didn't know if they were still there, but they were really the only thing between me and a miserable 10 mile walk home. I tried to ride the bike down, but the derailleur kept banging against the spokes, so I had to walk. Again, lucky for me, the couple was still there trying to fix one of their bikes.

I told them what happened to me. They took pity—I mean serious pity and the guy, Colin, drove me to my doorstep. How cool is that? Perhaps he wouldn't have done it if he didn't have a problem with his own bike that he couldn't fix, but maybe he would have. The fact is, he did and he did, and because of some guy I'm likely never to see again, I'm home writing this instead of walking through some hideous section of oakland in my bike gear and probably getting mugged or having the shit kicked out of me. Aren't strangers great?

Now I hope I can get the bike fixed by the club ride in Saturday. It's down in San Jose and it's supposed to be 100 degrees. Fun! Fun! Fun!

Posted by andrew at 10:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I think the logo for the Yellowjackets is kinda wimpy. You can see it on the website. Doesn't exactly inspire much of anything. The jerseys are these purplish red sun bursts which besides being pretty ugly, don't exactly say "yellowjackets" to me. I think something a little more muscular as well as black and yellow would be better. I found some stock art (I will download and pay for it if the club decides it wants a new logo) and played around with some ideas and came up with the above image. How cool would that look on the back of a jersey?

Posted by andrew at 10:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I think it would be incredibly cool to have half a dozen of these things lined up on the railing of my deck. These "Sun Jars" are just a a traditional Mason jar with a highly efficient solar cell, rechargeable battery and low energy LED lamp inside. When the jar is placed in sunlight the solar cell creates an electrical current that charges the battery over a few hours. This energy is then used at night to power the three LED lamps inside the jar. Pretty damn cool. Probably cause cancer or something horrible though.

Posted by andrew at 12:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

A visit to my old stomping grounds in Santa Cruz, CA. I can't believe that I haven't been there in almost two years. Had breakfast at Zachary's. Only had to wait about 45 minutes since we got an early start from Oakland. Had a Mike's Mess with avocado. What else? Had a nice long bike ride from the lighthouse at Steamer's Lane all the way to Capitola Village. Lunch on the beach at Zelda's. Relaxing at Its Beach just north of the lighthouse. Fun watching the dogs play in the water. Took some photos of the sufers. Met up with my old friend Karen and had dinner at the Aptos Burger Company (probably should have gone to Zocoli's to keep up the Z theme of the day). Then went home. A long, glorious 12 hour day in beautiful, sunny Santa Cruz.

Pictures above:

1) The Zachary's kitchen pumping out the good eats for the fine people of Santa Cruz.
2) Surfboards for sale at the Hook in Capitola
3) Catching perfect little waves at Steamer's Lane
4) Epic shot of the Santa Cruz bronze sufer statue.

Posted by andrew at 09:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Saturday's ride to Morgan Territory got off to a very inauspicious start. The ride was leaving from the Concord BART station at 8:20am, so I spent the night at a friend's place in Walnut Creek, about 7 miles away. The plan was to get up, have a little breakfast, get ready for the ride and cycle over to the station. But as usual, I left everything to the last minute, or rather, I was just moving very slowly and before I knew it, the clock hit 8am. I rushed everything down to the car. Got my shoes on. Didn't have time to pump up the tires or even check them for air pressure and I hit the road. I had less than 20 minutes to make miles and didn't really know the way. I had check Google Maps a few minutes before and had some sense, but this was really unfamiliar territory for me.

So I hauled ass, averaging almost 19 MPH over the 7 miles and arrived at 8:23, just as the last rider was pulling out of the station. I breathed a sigh of relief and latched on to the end. I had the route map clipped to my bike, but I didn't want to ride alone. But my work wasn't done. I had to move ahead past most of the beginning riders, past the intermediate guys to catch up with the advanced group. I finally caught up to them in Clayton 6.5 miles down the road, but this is where the hills start and just as soon as I caught them, I was dropped like a sack of potatoes. I was beat. It was starting to get hot and the worst of the ride was right in front of me .

The road up to the top of Morgan Territory is truly spectacular. It's about 10 feet wide at most, winding through backcountry farmland of rolling brown grass covered hills. Lots of cows, horses, goats and even a llama. Trees overhanging the road provide nice shade, but also drop tons of acorns, leaves and twigs. There are no cars. On the other hand, the road looks like it hasn't been since the Depression and it was pockmarked with unavoidable fissures and pot holes. I was vibrating like a hypercaffeinated chihuahua most of the way up.

At first the hills are rolling, a little up and a little down. Then there's a little up and a little plateau, and a little up and a little plateau, and again a little up and a little plateau. Then a little up and a little more up, but less steep, then a little up and a littlemore up, but less steep, then a little up and a little more up, but less steep. Then in the final 200 meters, the road smoothes out, but it kicks up at angle that made me want to spew my guts. After 10 miles of climbing, it was a killer. I've dubbed this climb, "The Meat Tenderizer".

We had a nice 20 minute break at the entrance to Morgan Territory. I refueled: choc. chip Cliff bar and a vanilla Gu. I probably could have stayed there an hour. But it's a club ride and I don't make the rules. I'm just along for the ride. So we saddled up and hit the road.

There's about 200 meters more climbing to the summit after the rest stop, but I felt energized so it was no problem. Plus, the ride is almost all downhill from there. It was going to be great, or so I thought. Just after the summit, maybe half a mile down I want to say, there was a club rider off his bike waving up to slow down. We put on the brakes and as we turned the corner, we could there'd been an accident.

Mark, one of the more advanced riders, a tall, lanky fellow was working on his bike by the side of the road. Blood was streaming from a gash in his forearm and his shorts were all ripped up. People we telling us he had a blow out and went down. It was lucky he wasn't riding in a pack or he might have taken someone others down with him. SInce was walking around and not screaming in pain, most likely nothing was broken. He was probably in a little shock. I've never had a real crash in cycling, but from skiing, I know these happen really fast, and it takes a moment to collect yourself and realize what happened.

First report of Mark's accident and aftermath came from a club member:

Hi folks. Several of you have emailed me asking how Mark is doing after his crash.

Mark went down Saturday on the Morgan Territory descent, perhaps due to depth perception problems with his new prescription sunglasses. Several OYJers were behind him fortunately - far enough back to avoid crashing into him but close enough to make sure he was okay.

When I arrived on the scene, I first thought that he was helping someone change a tire. Then I saw the blood and ripped clothing. My heart definitely skipped a beat.

The two of us got back on our bikes (Mark's rear tire was bent but functional) and rode about 15 miles to the nearest fire station with Mark's bloody arm hanging by his side. Eek. The guy we met there gave Mark bandages to wrap his arm and leg.

We then continued biking to the Walnut Creek BART and saw more OYJ-ers there (thanks for the ibuprofin, Michael). Mark and I went to the Kaiser Oakland emergency room where Mark was told to clean his own wounds while waiting for the doctor. They further scrubbed his various wounds (thigh, forearm, etc.) and determined that he didn't need stitches to cover the exposed muscle (!). We are thankful that nothing other than Mark's wheel was broken. Mark's going back to the doc today to ask about his fever and achy muscles. We hope there's no infection.

We expect a full recovery. Thanks to all of you who helped out and to those of you who have send your good wishes.

And then we heard directly from Mark:

All I can say is that I am VERY VERY VERY lucky. As I was doing a quick descent of the Morgan territory, I misjudged a turn. Attempting to correct, I slightly locked up my back wheel for a fraction of a second and blew the rear tire out. With my bike bouncing out of control, I was able to slow down somewhat and for a moment even thought I was going to keep the bike upright. But at the last minute, I went down hard. Amazingly, no broken bones and my head was still attached. Very bad road rash and cuts on my left side. But, being way out in Morgan Territory, I had little choice but to ride back to the Walnut Creek BART, the closest one. Susan escorted me home. Shortly after the crash, I was able to get swept up by the remnants of the Sat. House Of Pain (Lite) riders group who were in the area. They swarmed me and took me in their draft to a CDF fire station where I got some gauze. The pain was bearable while riding back. The ER room scrubbing of the gashes turned out to be much worse and required morphine. I have been on Vicodan for a couple of days and moving very slowly. It seems the onset of the bruises, stiffness and strained muscles has now set in.

In hindsight, I was surprised I crashed. The blown out rear tire certainly sealed the deal. But I was not riding too aggressively and was fairly familiar with this road. I have deduced that my new prescription sunglasses are partly to blame. Since I've had them for just a short while, I have struggled with depth perception. This is probably my undoing and reason for this crash.

Again, I am very lucky I was not hurt much worse. My kit was shredded and my back wheel ruined. But that's a small price to pay!

Thanks for your concern. I will see all of my OYJ friends out there on the road again soon.

After Mark's crash, I was even more hesitant on the way down than usual, which is really too bad because it's a beautiful descent on a very smooth road with spectacular scenery and very few turns. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.

We hit the bottom around 10am and the sun was starting to beat down on us. We had feared for a 100 degree day, but it was only around 85, but that's hot enough. We started to head back from Livermore, through Dublin, Blackhawk, Danville, Alamo and finally Walnut Creek. I was achy. I couldn't get comfortable on the bike. My thighs, lower back, shoulders and hands were all bothering me. The Meat Tenderizer really took a toll on my body. It didn't help that I skipped last week's ride and hadn't ridden more than a few dozen miles this month. My body was rebelling. I couldn't wait to get back to my car and get off the bike. It was such a relief to hit to the Iron Horse Trail. From there I cruised the last mile or so back to my car, put my bike away, got all my gear off and collapsed on the floor of my friend's apartment.

Miles 53.42
Ride Time 3:38:57
MPH 14.6
Max Speed 38.5
Average Cadence 66
Flats 0

Here's the route map:

and the elevation:

Posted by andrew at 09:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This past week, while I was down in LA for my high school reunion, the Governator gave the commencement address at the graduation. His daughter is in the class. Apparently Jack Nicholson was there.

And then I went on I went on from there and did the action movies. And of course I broke all the rules again, because you're not supposed to go from action movies to comedies. I went to comedies and all of those kinds of things. And since then, of course, between Jack Nicholson and myself, we have won three Oscars. (Laughter) They're all his, but who wants to go into details right now? It doesn't really matter.

I guess Jack had a relative in the class as well.

Celebrity sons and daughters and celebrities themselves are not a new thing for Brentwood, but considering the costs of tuition (just south of 25K a year for 7-12), it's not going to surprise anyone that the student body is only going to get more exclusive.

In my class, we had the son the Walt Hazzard and Willie Crawford, They started in 7th grade with me, but didn't finish. Both were my teammates on our 8th grade city championship basketball team. I rode the pine, but it was a fun ride. The sons of other LA sports stars were enrolled, including Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Keith Erickson and Gail Goodrich. I'm sure I'm missing some, but that's what happens when you get older, I suppose.

Billy Crystal's daughter was in the class below me as was Jeremy Licht. Oliver Robbins, who played the younger son in Poltergeist was there.

Long after I left the school, Fred Savage arrived along with four members of Maroon 5. Jonah Hill was there for a time before moving on to Crossroads.

Posted by andrew at 04:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I can't begin to tell you how happy it makes me when my cats are sacked out in the new cat condo. I hate having the thing in my place, but the cats love it. If they didn't use it, I'd be crushed.

Posted by andrew at 04:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Ok, time to tell tales. Actually, there's really not much to tell. Like I said, I got pressured into going to my high school reunion. Come on, everyone's doing it. You know you wanna.

Anyway, I succumbed and headed down to LA. First of all, it was great to see my old friends. You know who are you. I see them a few times a year, but it's never enough. We've been friends since the 7th or 8th grade. It's more than 25 years now and I've known them way longer than I haven't. Way longer.

I stayed with Josh who was housesitting a brand new 8 million dollar homage to minimalism in the hills above the Beverly Hills Hotel. More on that later. Saturday morning, I had breakfast with Andrew, Josh & Michael at The Griddle, with their stupidly large pancakes.

That afternoon, Josh and I went down to Venice Beach and watched the disappointing Belmont Stakes at some bar/grill along Washington Blvd. Peter met us in his new Bently. We went back to the house to get ready and then it was off to the reunion.

Ok, so here's the meat of the story. The reunion was held in the north quad of our high school campus in Brentwood. I hadn't been at the school in more than 15 years. It was really odd to be back—the beginning of what felt to me like one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

Some background first. I matriculated to Brentwood School in 1982, one of about 60 of the most privileged kids in the greater Los Angeles area. Everyone in the class was a either a high achiever or the offspring of the super rich, and some both. In the 6 years I attended, many students came and went. Perhaps a core of about 30, but I'm not quite sure, made it all 6 years. We lost students to public school (including my brother) and other private schools and gained students from all over. In the end we had 64 students. Our class song, for some reason (Mike Victor) was the theme to the Flintstone's. Don't ask.

We were lucky to have some outstanding teachers and coaches including, and excuse if I forget some, Mr. Krause in Science, Mr. Noorzay in Algebra, Dr. Cook in Physics, Mrs. Wallace in Humanities, Mrs. Dunn in English, Mrs. Bali in Latin and Greek, Mr McGann in Geometry, Mr. Hutson in History, Ms. Zilinskas in Art, Mr. Ingram in Latin (also the head coach of the varsity basketball team). My classmates went on to Yale, Penn, Amherst, Virginia, Tufts, Denison, Bennington, Bryn Mawr, Columbia, Michigan, and all the University of California campuses. We actually had a down year. None to Harvard and Princeton for some reason. But it didn't matter. We were a blessed generation.

Oddly enough, in the yearbook in our senior year, there was list of where the students would end up in 20 years. I have no idea how this thing got approved, but it did. Here are some of the samples:

J.A. - Shooting motorists on the freeway
B.A - Crashing in the Indy 500
S.B. - In prison for cheating on his tax returns
J.L. - Looking in the mirror and realizing that's he not black
M.R. - Married but still making a pass at his best friend's wife
E.W. - Caught for insider trading

How the yearbook staff got away with that hit I will never know, but it was spit-take funny the first time most of us saw that. According to the list, I was meant to be a sports writer for the LA times, an odd selection considering I wrote one article with Jason for the school newspaper, an Onion-like spoof about our basketball team entitled, "Eagles Key to Success—Outscoring Their Opponents." We were ahead of our time. Jason actually become a sportswriter, first in Victorville and then in Riverside. He was a great talent who moved from writing to copyediting for a more stable job and never realized his true potential. He would have made a fantastic sportswriter for the LA times. Now he's out of the newspaper business altogether. It saddens me. But I digress.

The guy voted likely to be caught for insider trading was. He was no show along with about half the class, which I suppose is actually a really good turnout. Anne Thompson, the student tapped in the yearbook to be "organizing our reunion", is one of the few people totally MIA. Ironic. Another classmate, Rima Akkad, was tragically killed by a suicide bomber in Amman, Jordan. One is a writer in NYC. There's anon-air personality. There's an actor. One is married to a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. One guy promotes MMA. One guy is an ecologist. One guy is in special effects. There's a CEO of a designer furniture company. Another is a professor. One is a musician.

Most of us are just normal, albeit excessively well-off individuals. I don't include myself in that group, for the record. Of course, many are married and have kids. Some are divorced. Some are fat. Some have lost most of their hair. Some who were closeted are now open. On the whole it's a good looking, well-adjusted group befitting our lofty background.

Most are still in Southern California. A handful are in NorCal. Several in DC and New York. One's a doctor in the Virgin Islands. One, another no show, lives in Thailand.

As for the reunion itself, it was fairly mundane. Open bar with mostly unappetizing appetizers. I talked mostly to my close friends. We joked, reminisced and toasted ourselves. I caught up with my latin teacher Mrs. Bali who seemed thrilled that I had earned my degree in Classics (not incidentally, Mrs. Bali gave birth to her son at St. John's Hospital in LA in the bed next to my mom). Both guys, Bobby and Derek, who scored the same on the Myers Briggs were there. Scott, who I went to school with almost continuously from preschool to 12th grade, was there. I hadn't seen him since graduation. He lives about 3 miles from me and is married with 4 kids. I continued my streak of not speaking to several of my classmates, now going on 25 years. Seems silly, but that's the way it is, was, and, sadly, will always be.

It was incredibly strange to see people I hadn't seen or thought of for 20 years. Some good, some bad. Mostly, just ambivalence. Am I glad I went? I suppose. Will I go again. Doubt it. Will anyone remember I was there? Unlikely.

Posted by andrew at 09:51 PM |