I am ready to move to the new store. Of course, I only speak for myself and not our inventory.
I've also enjoyed the benefits of exercising each morning - and I'm not referring to the customer who wants a part for their bike - but doesn't know what kind of bike it is. (Insert emoticon of :facepalm or :headbrick !)
I started Tuesday morning (which is my Monday, for those not familiar with how most motorcycle shops keep their hours) when I woke an hour early and figured, why not start now? I had been putting it off - hoping that the Spurs would quickly win the national championship and my sleep schedule would return to routine... But since I was awake and wanted to stretch my legs, I managed to get in a good workout following the exercises from a book I had not very recently acquired (but decided I would follow "when I got around to it.")
The results are amazing. I had forgotten how good I feel after exercising. Never mind the health benefits - I'm more alert at work, well focused and sleep better at night. I have been slowly weaning myself from the computer ritual first thing in the morning and now it's paying off.
If I can keep this up, I will probably reward myself with a hiking trip to Big Bend in the late fall. Maybe even make the voyage to Daytona for Biketoberfest? Who knows? I might even get to see family for Thanksgiving!
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Friday, May 25, 2007
Long Days
Yesterday was a 12.5 hour day. I've known this shop to have 14 and 16 hour days when it was a sole proprietorship, but... I'm just a bit tired.
I knew I wouldn't ride this morning because of how I felt riding home last night. You gotta listen to your body or you'll pay for it! On the other hand, a nice storm front with lots of rain behind it is moving in this morning, so that's just additional motivation to take the cage.
I got my official date where I will start working at setting up inventory at the new shop: June 5. I will be there 5 or 6 days a week until the shop officially opens in late June. Unfortunately, I will miss my uncle's wedding June 9. A special lack of gratitude goes out to all the contractors who delayed our opening by four more months. On the other hand, I am very exciting to get into the new building. As for now, I am working diligently to organize and reconcile the inventory at the current location to make the transition as smooth as possible.
It's been hot (and it's getting hotter and more humid each day as we approach summer) working in my little "hallway." Soon we'll be in the new building out of the heat. (I hope!)
I've been told that if I keep my current schedule, I won't have to work extremely long hours. I can only say, "We'll see!"
I knew I wouldn't ride this morning because of how I felt riding home last night. You gotta listen to your body or you'll pay for it! On the other hand, a nice storm front with lots of rain behind it is moving in this morning, so that's just additional motivation to take the cage.
I got my official date where I will start working at setting up inventory at the new shop: June 5. I will be there 5 or 6 days a week until the shop officially opens in late June. Unfortunately, I will miss my uncle's wedding June 9. A special lack of gratitude goes out to all the contractors who delayed our opening by four more months. On the other hand, I am very exciting to get into the new building. As for now, I am working diligently to organize and reconcile the inventory at the current location to make the transition as smooth as possible.
It's been hot (and it's getting hotter and more humid each day as we approach summer) working in my little "hallway." Soon we'll be in the new building out of the heat. (I hope!)
I've been told that if I keep my current schedule, I won't have to work extremely long hours. I can only say, "We'll see!"
Monday, May 21, 2007
Fortune Cookie
Just like the title implies, I'm going to read you a fortune cookie:
"Before you can see the light, you must first deal with the darkness."
I think some would speculate that seeing darkness as darkness enables them to recognize their need and desire for the light. If the analogy held true, then facing the light would help drive away the darkness.
It's very human to want to deal first with the negative before attempting the positive. But without striving for the positive - without pushing forward by sticking to the problems of now and the past, there can be no healing, which oftentimes just requires time and understanding.
Perhaps the cookie should have said:
"If you see darkness for what it is, you have seen the light."
"Before you can see the light, you must first deal with the darkness."
I think some would speculate that seeing darkness as darkness enables them to recognize their need and desire for the light. If the analogy held true, then facing the light would help drive away the darkness.
It's very human to want to deal first with the negative before attempting the positive. But without striving for the positive - without pushing forward by sticking to the problems of now and the past, there can be no healing, which oftentimes just requires time and understanding.
Perhaps the cookie should have said:
"If you see darkness for what it is, you have seen the light."
Thursday, May 17, 2007
War of Attrition
I was thinking about depression yesterday. It occurred to me that depression is like a war of attrition. The victor (the person or the depression) is the one who wins the most days.
It seems corny, but I'm beginning to see the wisdom in "making each day count" and "choosing to be positive." That's hard where I work since there's a lot of sarcasm and we're in the midst of a lot of change.
But it's a worthwhile goal. In the end, I hope I have won more days over depression than depression has won over me.
It seems corny, but I'm beginning to see the wisdom in "making each day count" and "choosing to be positive." That's hard where I work since there's a lot of sarcasm and we're in the midst of a lot of change.
But it's a worthwhile goal. In the end, I hope I have won more days over depression than depression has won over me.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Dentures for Bambi
In August of 1942, Walt Disney released the monumental animated film, Bambi. Audiences were drawn to tears and heartstrings tugged as they vicariously lived the tragic and difficult life of an adorable baby deer. If Bambi were indeed "born" in 1942, he would be 65 years old this August.
But, let's back up a moment. After a long, stressful week of dealing with people (and I still laugh at the joke about how half of them are "below average" - and the people that ask, "why is that!?"), I was looking forward to a quiet getaway with my wife. I even hoped we could leave Saturday night. However, two factors changed those plans: 1) the wife wanted to watch the Spurs trounce the Suns (i.e. she wanted to catch "the game") and 2) our neighbors behind us - the one who had been caught breaking into a local high school and repeatedly stabbing an FFA sheep - decided to throw a party. Sure, they lined both sides of the road with cars, threw up extra lights and a disco ball. Okay, so the stench of beer in our back yard was so thick you could cut it with a knife. That didn't bother me. It was the fact that they played the kind of music found in cheezy Mexican restaurants so loudly that you had to speak up to talk to one another... across our back yard, through the house and on the other side of the street.
Did I mention that this started at 7 PM and was going strong well past 2 AM? No? How about this: I get very, very irritable from loud music (to put it politely). Combine that with a lack of rest, and... you get the picture, right? I could be heading to jail while the taxpayers put our local sheep-stabbing hero (see also: here and here) in the hospital for the best of care.
So do the most rational thing: call the police. Then leave. People playing music that loudly obviously don't care about anyone but themselves, and confronting them is only an opportunity for me to get into trouble or worse.
I called the police. I went for a ride. I rode and rode.
I went down backroads I've never seen before. I was playing all over the place. I then decided that maybe I could come home. As I headed towards S.A. on US 281 - a divided highway with 2+ lanes headed in each direction - I crested a small hill and discovered what the "deer in the headlight" look was all about. (Ah, yes! Here comes the Bambi tie-in!) Despite crossing all kinds of road-rodent infested back roads, this is the first deer I've seen all night and it's literally standing in the middle of the road, facing the median (so I'm approaching it perpendicularly). It begins to move off to the left so I swerve to the right when all of a sudden it changes its mind and tries to dart out in front of me.
As some of you may recall, I hit a deer with the same bike a couple years ago when a small doe decided to change directions and run in front of my bike. I grazed it on the right side and ran over its legs but left no damage to the bike. I rode on, feeling a little unnerved by the experience.
Obviously this doe, which was much larger and probably three to four feet at the shoulder, did not kill me. For taking out deer, this one has to be the weirdest. As it began to dart out in front of me, I clipped it in the head with the upper left fairing of the bike. It left a very small chunk of hair on the mirror stalk and tore a hole through my fairing. My garage door opener - held on by velcro - disappeared with a significant amount of plastic.
And I was still upright, still riding. The FJR took it on the chin, but yet again, I dodged the Bambi bullet, who through no regards to age will probably need a full set of dentures when it's all said and done (if a car behind me didn't finish the job).
So I came home and had a restful evening, right? I was tired and ready to sleep, but the cha-cha party was still on. Naturally, I was enraged. Why hadn't the police fixed this problem yet? If I were to go over and explain to them that they were blatantly disrespectful to all their neighbors and they needed to STFU, who knows what would have happened? I called the police several times and explained that I was more than just a little agitated and that these "people" were more than just a little loud. At 2 AM - only six hours after the initial complaint - the SAPD arrived and told them, in the officer's words, to "shut the hell up." He had to yell at the top of his lungs just to be heard over the music. He apologized profusely to me stating that this night in particular they were understaffed and overly busy.
I can hear those drunks saying the next day, "Vato, that was a great party. We drank and partied so much that by the time we were ready to go home, la policia came and sent us away. Dude, that was sweet!" What a bunch of pendejos. As Carlos Mencia might say, they're those kind of Mexicans - that normal people of any descent - particularly of Hispanic descent - would distance themselves from. By the observation of my neighbor's behavior - now and in the past - I can firmly say that these are not the kind of people I'd ever choose to live near. (I understand they've been driving off neighbors for years now and have contributed to the rental house next to us turning over occupants on a regular basis. *Sigh* it was so quiet when he was in jail!)
Just to make my position clear on this - it is not part of Hispanic culture to be disrespectful of ones neighbors or become a criminal. This particular individual, however does contribute to the perpetuation of such myths. It doesn't help that I have to get into a bloody rage (and not get any support from ANY of my neighbors) to get police assistance. This individual is just another dirtbag whose weapon of scumminess derives from the uglier side of south of the border.
The wife and I left later that morning, and found it very sweet indeed to have a quiet, uninterrupted night of sleep.
But not before taking out a bird with the truck!
Gosh, what is it with these animals and the vehicles I'm driving?
You can see cracks and the hole in the upper fairing
and a small smattering of blood on the front fairing.
The doe ripped a lot of plastic apart when she
went kamikaze on me. The road rash to the
right was from a prior incident; this was an
old plastic piece I was using temporarily.
But, let's back up a moment. After a long, stressful week of dealing with people (and I still laugh at the joke about how half of them are "below average" - and the people that ask, "why is that!?"), I was looking forward to a quiet getaway with my wife. I even hoped we could leave Saturday night. However, two factors changed those plans: 1) the wife wanted to watch the Spurs trounce the Suns (i.e. she wanted to catch "the game") and 2) our neighbors behind us - the one who had been caught breaking into a local high school and repeatedly stabbing an FFA sheep - decided to throw a party. Sure, they lined both sides of the road with cars, threw up extra lights and a disco ball. Okay, so the stench of beer in our back yard was so thick you could cut it with a knife. That didn't bother me. It was the fact that they played the kind of music found in cheezy Mexican restaurants so loudly that you had to speak up to talk to one another... across our back yard, through the house and on the other side of the street.
Did I mention that this started at 7 PM and was going strong well past 2 AM? No? How about this: I get very, very irritable from loud music (to put it politely). Combine that with a lack of rest, and... you get the picture, right? I could be heading to jail while the taxpayers put our local sheep-stabbing hero (see also: here and here) in the hospital for the best of care.
So do the most rational thing: call the police. Then leave. People playing music that loudly obviously don't care about anyone but themselves, and confronting them is only an opportunity for me to get into trouble or worse.
I called the police. I went for a ride. I rode and rode.
I went down backroads I've never seen before. I was playing all over the place. I then decided that maybe I could come home. As I headed towards S.A. on US 281 - a divided highway with 2+ lanes headed in each direction - I crested a small hill and discovered what the "deer in the headlight" look was all about. (Ah, yes! Here comes the Bambi tie-in!) Despite crossing all kinds of road-rodent infested back roads, this is the first deer I've seen all night and it's literally standing in the middle of the road, facing the median (so I'm approaching it perpendicularly). It begins to move off to the left so I swerve to the right when all of a sudden it changes its mind and tries to dart out in front of me.
As some of you may recall, I hit a deer with the same bike a couple years ago when a small doe decided to change directions and run in front of my bike. I grazed it on the right side and ran over its legs but left no damage to the bike. I rode on, feeling a little unnerved by the experience.
Obviously this doe, which was much larger and probably three to four feet at the shoulder, did not kill me. For taking out deer, this one has to be the weirdest. As it began to dart out in front of me, I clipped it in the head with the upper left fairing of the bike. It left a very small chunk of hair on the mirror stalk and tore a hole through my fairing. My garage door opener - held on by velcro - disappeared with a significant amount of plastic.
And I was still upright, still riding. The FJR took it on the chin, but yet again, I dodged the Bambi bullet, who through no regards to age will probably need a full set of dentures when it's all said and done (if a car behind me didn't finish the job).
So I came home and had a restful evening, right? I was tired and ready to sleep, but the cha-cha party was still on. Naturally, I was enraged. Why hadn't the police fixed this problem yet? If I were to go over and explain to them that they were blatantly disrespectful to all their neighbors and they needed to STFU, who knows what would have happened? I called the police several times and explained that I was more than just a little agitated and that these "people" were more than just a little loud. At 2 AM - only six hours after the initial complaint - the SAPD arrived and told them, in the officer's words, to "shut the hell up." He had to yell at the top of his lungs just to be heard over the music. He apologized profusely to me stating that this night in particular they were understaffed and overly busy.
I can hear those drunks saying the next day, "Vato, that was a great party. We drank and partied so much that by the time we were ready to go home, la policia came and sent us away. Dude, that was sweet!" What a bunch of pendejos. As Carlos Mencia might say, they're those kind of Mexicans - that normal people of any descent - particularly of Hispanic descent - would distance themselves from. By the observation of my neighbor's behavior - now and in the past - I can firmly say that these are not the kind of people I'd ever choose to live near. (I understand they've been driving off neighbors for years now and have contributed to the rental house next to us turning over occupants on a regular basis. *Sigh* it was so quiet when he was in jail!)
Just to make my position clear on this - it is not part of Hispanic culture to be disrespectful of ones neighbors or become a criminal. This particular individual, however does contribute to the perpetuation of such myths. It doesn't help that I have to get into a bloody rage (and not get any support from ANY of my neighbors) to get police assistance. This individual is just another dirtbag whose weapon of scumminess derives from the uglier side of south of the border.
The wife and I left later that morning, and found it very sweet indeed to have a quiet, uninterrupted night of sleep.
But not before taking out a bird with the truck!
Gosh, what is it with these animals and the vehicles I'm driving?
You can see cracks and the hole in the upper fairingand a small smattering of blood on the front fairing.
The doe ripped a lot of plastic apart when shewent kamikaze on me. The road rash to the
right was from a prior incident; this was an
old plastic piece I was using temporarily.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
An end to senseless bruise drama
Okay, this is the third week. The stupid bruise is almost gone. I'm no longer in any pain and there's just a mild discoloration. By the end of week two, it had turned a dark brown color and began to shrink in size.
Yes, it's sad that I've only had this bruise to talk about for three weeks! I've been very busy with work and decidedly haven't gotten out much. Gas prices jumped about $0.25 a gallon - or a bit more - though there's talk from Austin about taking away the state's $0.20 per gallon gasoline tax for the three months of summer.
Despite paying near $3.00 a gallon, I managed to go for a ride after work. It's been one of those weeks where you think you're about to finish something when you get caught in a middle of a sandstorm and everything is messed up and you have to start all over again. I wondered if I was going to accomplish anything at all... And it's been a six day work week. Frustration on top of aggravation. Mood = not that good.
So, I'm just trying to let go. It's getting harder as my riding season is fading away into summer (when it's too hot to ride a lot). The weather yesterday was absolutely perfect. It started and ended in the low 70's and never got too hot. Perfect for an extended trip of a week or two. I could smell it in the air.
I thought riding last night would help me clear my head. Instead, I thought a lot about all the rides I've done and who I've ridden with. I thought about mistakes I've made and the problems with me - now.
Despite that, two noteworthy things happened. I saw the post-sunset (it was still somewhat light out at 9PM) at my favorite scenic view in the Hill Country. No picture, but it was stunning with the clouds and hills hinting at reds and blues and playing with shadows. I had also had dinner at McDonalds in Hondo (I think...) where a little girl on the other side of the glass in the play gym decided to make friends with me. She'd see me eating (and being very serious), run up to the window and wave. I'd turn my head, smile and maybe do a little wave. She'd chuckle and run off. This happened numerous times. It's good to know I can still make friends. (?!)
In all, I rode about 125 miles. I got home late, but I was ready for bed and fell asleep easily - though I had weird dreams (thanks to all that thinking). That was rather nice for a mid-week (for me) ride.
One more day of work and then maybe I'll surprise my wife with a birthday treat. Then again, she may not go for it and I'll sit another weekend out...
Yes, it's sad that I've only had this bruise to talk about for three weeks! I've been very busy with work and decidedly haven't gotten out much. Gas prices jumped about $0.25 a gallon - or a bit more - though there's talk from Austin about taking away the state's $0.20 per gallon gasoline tax for the three months of summer.
Despite paying near $3.00 a gallon, I managed to go for a ride after work. It's been one of those weeks where you think you're about to finish something when you get caught in a middle of a sandstorm and everything is messed up and you have to start all over again. I wondered if I was going to accomplish anything at all... And it's been a six day work week. Frustration on top of aggravation. Mood = not that good.
So, I'm just trying to let go. It's getting harder as my riding season is fading away into summer (when it's too hot to ride a lot). The weather yesterday was absolutely perfect. It started and ended in the low 70's and never got too hot. Perfect for an extended trip of a week or two. I could smell it in the air.
I thought riding last night would help me clear my head. Instead, I thought a lot about all the rides I've done and who I've ridden with. I thought about mistakes I've made and the problems with me - now.
Despite that, two noteworthy things happened. I saw the post-sunset (it was still somewhat light out at 9PM) at my favorite scenic view in the Hill Country. No picture, but it was stunning with the clouds and hills hinting at reds and blues and playing with shadows. I had also had dinner at McDonalds in Hondo (I think...) where a little girl on the other side of the glass in the play gym decided to make friends with me. She'd see me eating (and being very serious), run up to the window and wave. I'd turn my head, smile and maybe do a little wave. She'd chuckle and run off. This happened numerous times. It's good to know I can still make friends. (?!)
In all, I rode about 125 miles. I got home late, but I was ready for bed and fell asleep easily - though I had weird dreams (thanks to all that thinking). That was rather nice for a mid-week (for me) ride.
One more day of work and then maybe I'll surprise my wife with a birthday treat. Then again, she may not go for it and I'll sit another weekend out...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
