Two Wheels - Six Strings

Random news and thoughts about various two-wheeled projects and music, especially my band, Skull Full Of Blues.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Sixty Days Per Tank

I finally had to fill the truck with petrol, today. Fifty-five dollars to fill up! Oh well, I guess $27.50 per month for fuel isn't that bad.

I had to fill up so that I could take my nephew Sean's early-90's Klein mountain bike to FedEx and ship it off. I hope to have my large-item trailer finished in time to ship off his brother Kyle's 1992 Cannondale.

The Wino Wagon has yet to get the rails for carrying a bike box. It's still in the "development stage", at this point. I have an actual trailer on the way to carry groceries, so the carry-box on this one will probably go away, leaving this rigged up monstrosity for carrying larger packages likes bikes and lumber.

Anyway, it's ugly and somewhat embarrassing, but I hope it helps cut down on the necessity to drive the Nissan.

If nothing else, I can lash all of my worldly belongings on it when I become one of those crusty old guys that rides his bike around shouting obscenities to the wind and drinking fortified wine. Watch for me on a skid-row near you...


Sunday, June 24, 2007

In Touch With My Inner Bruce Willis

Got myself a haircut, the other day.

"The time has come to just go all "Die Hard" on the noggin," I thought to myself. So, with a Number Zero guide on the trimmer, I had the lawn mowed.

I like it, anyway. Too bad I have that extension cord coming out of my head.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

The Link Between Rock 'n Roll and Bike Commuting

It's been a while since I've bored all three of my faithful readers with yet another post about my commute. Well, cinch down your toe straps, we're going down that bumpy road, again.

I've been short on posting time, due to trying to get the new Grinder Bikes World Headquarters South Annex (workshop) up and running, but I have been riding to work every day. I think it would be kinda cool to shoot for a year, straight, without burning any gas to get to work. That seems easy enough in the lazy, hazy days of summer. But, even though last winter was an anomaly, we do tend to have some cold temps and fluffy white precip, at times, during the colder months. I think the mental block of getting up and putting on snow chains, slogging to work in the predawn cold, working all day, then slogging back home after sundown might be a bit daunting.

Anyway, I left the house, yesterday, in a steady rain which continued to fall on me all the way to work. Then, after some sunshine in the middle part of the day, I left the lab to come home in a raging thunderstorm. I was more nervous about the lightning and the dim-bulb drivers than I was about getting wet. And that's good, because I got quite wet.

I was wet like those cats you see in inspirational posters. I was wet like Niagara Falls. I was wet like born-again Baptist.

Soaking, sopping, dripping.

So, when I got home, I unloaded my bags and got back on the bike to run some errands. That's right, Chester: I like to ride in the rain!
I went to Performance and picked up some parts. While I was there, I bought a better rain/wind jacket, and a new pair of full-fingered gloves. Mine were soaked, and I suspected they would still be wet when I got up in the morning.


When Meatloaf blew out his vocal cords/o.d'd on the rock 'n roll lifestyle after the release of "Bat Out Of Hell", Jim Steinman decided to sing the songs on the follow-up album rather than wait for his buddy to recover. (Good thing, too, as Meatloaf didn't record another album for; what, 20 years after that?) Steinman penned all of the songs on Mr. Loaf's debut, and produced said disc, as well.
I bought the album, mysteriously titled "Jim Steinman", when it came out. Lester Bangs had "interesting" things to say about it in CREEM Magazine (America's only Rock and Roll Magazine), so I had to check it out.

I actually like the album. It was very recognizable as the follow-up to BOOH, in all its bombastic glory. But, for some reason, I found myself uneasy whenever I looked at the cover. Not that the Frazetta-like fantasy painting was disturbing in content, or anything; it just made me uneasy.

Here it is, in all its disturbing glory.

It took me a while to figure it out, but one day it suddenly leaped out at me like a Magic Eye picture finally coming into focus.

The dude has two right hands! Once I figured it out, the picture wasn't nearly as disturbing. I think it was just the subliminal recognition of this abnormality which was making me queasy.


I got up this morning, and my gloves were, indeed, still soaked. So, I got the new pack of gloves out, popped the little plastic thingy which holds them together and found that I had...two left gloves. Apparently Steinman's cover model had been in before me and nabbed the right glove out of my set, and replaced it with the (useless to him) left glove from the pair he purchased.

The undeniable connection between rock 'n roll and bike commuting made itself known to me, at that time.