But sadly, not at finding plant or animal remains.
Yes, after a long hiatus, I am trying to get back on the personal blog thing.
Not sure why, really. I started this to force me to write, to get used to it again in preparation for what is going to be Round Three of Getting Myself Educated.
Lately, Im lucky if I can squeeze out a race report on the team site before a new Pope is elected.
Today we went fossil hunting. Which, as Caitlin is quick to point out, is mostly me banging on a few likely-looking rocks and her getting a sunburn. To date, I have not discovered even the lowliest of ammonites. I have, however, become adept at making stone axes.
We did see one deer, a nest of orioles, one crabby old lady and a very flat muskrat.
Behold, Phil Plait: A reasonable man.
14 March 2011
Occasionally Helpful Review Of Something You Might Like, Part 1
Ball Square Cafe: 708 Broadway, Somerville
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Caitlin and I have had a monday-morning breakfast tradition for 5+ years now. Our traditional standby, the deluxe town diner, seems to be reducing portions and raising prices (though the food remains awesome) and the ugly omlet is too far away, so we have branched out a bit. Our search eventually led us to the ball square cafe.
Next door to (and a direct offshoot of) the well-regarded Sound Bites, I like this place even more than its progenitor. Since Sound Bites has gone from a breakfast/lunch place to an all-around restaurant, it lost a bit of the hole-in-the-wall novelty (and crazy "specials" menu) that made it so appealing. Enter Ball Square Cafe (founded by one of the original kitchen guys from 'Bites) - like the old feel, with an even better menu.
The atmosphere is ideal for a breakfast place: close, loud-ish, kitchen partially exposed, the owner going from table to table making smalltalk and asking about your meal, people milling around the coffee station and so on. The coffee station deserves special mention. There are no drinks on the menu at Ball Square - you just get them yourself. This is in every way superior to waiting for your server to happen by.
The food is great. The mashed/grilled homefries are the highlight of a menu that offers all the traditional staples, but has a fantastic variety of variations that makes coming back week after week the highlight of our otherwise errand-laden day off. For example, one of the specials 2 weeks ago was stuffed french toast with peanut butter, bananas and nutella. It was easily the best french toast I have ever eaten. Today I had a hash omelet with a grilled corn muffin - the hash was not like any I have ever eaten before: it was like a hash-meatloaf hybrid with cheese. Yes, holy crap indeed.
Portion size is exactly right for me, which means normal people may have some to take home with them. Generally the two of us have a combined bill of 20-22 dollars - not at all bad for a meal that hold you over till dinner and is very, very tasty.
View Larger Map
Caitlin and I have had a monday-morning breakfast tradition for 5+ years now. Our traditional standby, the deluxe town diner, seems to be reducing portions and raising prices (though the food remains awesome) and the ugly omlet is too far away, so we have branched out a bit. Our search eventually led us to the ball square cafe.
Next door to (and a direct offshoot of) the well-regarded Sound Bites, I like this place even more than its progenitor. Since Sound Bites has gone from a breakfast/lunch place to an all-around restaurant, it lost a bit of the hole-in-the-wall novelty (and crazy "specials" menu) that made it so appealing. Enter Ball Square Cafe (founded by one of the original kitchen guys from 'Bites) - like the old feel, with an even better menu.
The atmosphere is ideal for a breakfast place: close, loud-ish, kitchen partially exposed, the owner going from table to table making smalltalk and asking about your meal, people milling around the coffee station and so on. The coffee station deserves special mention. There are no drinks on the menu at Ball Square - you just get them yourself. This is in every way superior to waiting for your server to happen by.
The food is great. The mashed/grilled homefries are the highlight of a menu that offers all the traditional staples, but has a fantastic variety of variations that makes coming back week after week the highlight of our otherwise errand-laden day off. For example, one of the specials 2 weeks ago was stuffed french toast with peanut butter, bananas and nutella. It was easily the best french toast I have ever eaten. Today I had a hash omelet with a grilled corn muffin - the hash was not like any I have ever eaten before: it was like a hash-meatloaf hybrid with cheese. Yes, holy crap indeed.
Portion size is exactly right for me, which means normal people may have some to take home with them. Generally the two of us have a combined bill of 20-22 dollars - not at all bad for a meal that hold you over till dinner and is very, very tasty.
14 February 2011
Trashcans and Troglodytes
When was the last time it snowed? 2 weeks ago? Enough for most of the crap to be at least passively cleared from the roads and sidewalks, right? Definitely too long ago to even THINK it would be a good idea to save a parking space with a trash can.
Think again.
It would appear that my across-the-street neighbors continue to find it necessary to place trashcans, recycling bins and other white trash lawn ornaments in every available open spot of asphalt. Seriously. Now, these knuckle draggers are very generally awful - besides loud domestic disputes, taking up two spots on the street to save one for a friend and pushing the snow across the street onto our sidewalk, we actually caught one denizen of that row-house of ill repute kicking another neighbors car because she was having some difficulty parking.
So yeah, some real winners.
Last night, we moved one of the bins and parked our car across the street (in the spot that weeks ago we shoveled out, I might add). Worried about possible retribution, I set up a video camera to record any townie justice (sadly, it ran out of space - we need to delete some races...).
Nothing happened.
We ran bunch of errands today for about four and a half hours and came home to - you guessed it - that fucking recycling bin.
Lots of response methods ran through my head (many of which involved the liberal application of fire), though cooler heads eventually prevailed and we called the cops. BECAUSE IT IS ILLEGAL (not just annoying) TO SAVE SPACES.
The cops said they "couldnt do anything" and to call the mayors office, where apparently a department exists to deal with this sort of thing. Department thusly contacted, we were informed that Boston was "no longer enforcing the law".
What. The. Fuck.
It would appear that the people they contracted to collect all the shit people put on public roads were "occasionally attacked".
Seriously?
The city backed down because of a handful of townie ass clowns assaulted government employees over a few more-or-less shoveled parking spots? I hereby volunteer for the position of "Guy That Removes Peoples Junk From Public Streets And Occasionally Administers An Ass Whipping To The Idiots That Think They Have A Right To Save Spots". Really, guys. I'll do it for free. This has been such an annoying problem in my neighborhood, and the city has repeatedly refused to address it.
Thanks for having our backs, recipients of my tax dollars.
So the take away lesson from all of this is that, as far as I can tell, the city advocates citizens taking matters into their own hands. It would appear that i am to just look for a place to park, much farther away, on another block. And if this escalates (say they mess with my car) I am supposed to... what, respond in kind?
Do not tempt me, Boston.
Think again.
It would appear that my across-the-street neighbors continue to find it necessary to place trashcans, recycling bins and other white trash lawn ornaments in every available open spot of asphalt. Seriously. Now, these knuckle draggers are very generally awful - besides loud domestic disputes, taking up two spots on the street to save one for a friend and pushing the snow across the street onto our sidewalk, we actually caught one denizen of that row-house of ill repute kicking another neighbors car because she was having some difficulty parking.
So yeah, some real winners.
Last night, we moved one of the bins and parked our car across the street (in the spot that weeks ago we shoveled out, I might add). Worried about possible retribution, I set up a video camera to record any townie justice (sadly, it ran out of space - we need to delete some races...).
Nothing happened.
We ran bunch of errands today for about four and a half hours and came home to - you guessed it - that fucking recycling bin.
Lots of response methods ran through my head (many of which involved the liberal application of fire), though cooler heads eventually prevailed and we called the cops. BECAUSE IT IS ILLEGAL (not just annoying) TO SAVE SPACES.
The cops said they "couldnt do anything" and to call the mayors office, where apparently a department exists to deal with this sort of thing. Department thusly contacted, we were informed that Boston was "no longer enforcing the law".
What. The. Fuck.
It would appear that the people they contracted to collect all the shit people put on public roads were "occasionally attacked".
Seriously?
The city backed down because of a handful of townie ass clowns assaulted government employees over a few more-or-less shoveled parking spots? I hereby volunteer for the position of "Guy That Removes Peoples Junk From Public Streets And Occasionally Administers An Ass Whipping To The Idiots That Think They Have A Right To Save Spots". Really, guys. I'll do it for free. This has been such an annoying problem in my neighborhood, and the city has repeatedly refused to address it.
Thanks for having our backs, recipients of my tax dollars.
So the take away lesson from all of this is that, as far as I can tell, the city advocates citizens taking matters into their own hands. It would appear that i am to just look for a place to park, much farther away, on another block. And if this escalates (say they mess with my car) I am supposed to... what, respond in kind?
Do not tempt me, Boston.
11 February 2011
I actually CAN'T explain that...
I'm usually not much of a meme hound (mostly because I'm too oblivious to "catch them on the ups", as it were) but this Bill O'Reilly one had me laughing to myself all day (and making up various things you just "can't explain").
Example:
Source materials
NB: when I saw this interview (unedited) I literally could not believe a grown man on live television in the year 2011 could actually use tides to prove that God exists. Not the staggering beauty and complexity of life, not the boundless variety and near-infinite wonder of the universe stretching out over all our heads... tides.
Ive said it before, Ill say it again:
Idiocracy: Not a movie, a prophecy.
Example:
Source materials
NB: when I saw this interview (unedited) I literally could not believe a grown man on live television in the year 2011 could actually use tides to prove that God exists. Not the staggering beauty and complexity of life, not the boundless variety and near-infinite wonder of the universe stretching out over all our heads... tides.
Ive said it before, Ill say it again:
Idiocracy: Not a movie, a prophecy.
09 February 2011
Cooking with Mike, Part 1.
Ingredients:
7 or so strawberries, frozen.
Big handful of cherries, frozen.
1 banana.
1 apple.
2 or 3 handfuls of seedless grapes.
Handful of chocolate chips.
Almonds
Sunflower seeds
Yogurt
Granola
First, I take the frozen cherries and strawberries out of the freezer and put them in a bowl while I round up the rest of the ingrediedients. This gives them some time to thaw, making it slightly less likely for me to have to dig a paring knife out of my palm.
Once arranged on the table...
I start cutting up all the fruit.
Fruit thusly chopped...
...on to the nuts.
Did you really think I wouldn't need a hammer to make dinner?
Add almonds, sunflower seeds, grapes, granola, chocolate chips.
Now put however much yogurt you need in there. I don't like a soupy pile, I aim for more of a fruit slurry.
Stir that shit.
Fill your pie hole.
Repeat 5 days a week. Which five days? Be flexible - make sure you are eating other stuff on your "off days" (I am partial to hot dogs with cheese) so as to keep things interesting and your meat index above zero. Enjoy, and happy eating!
7 or so strawberries, frozen.
Big handful of cherries, frozen.
1 banana.
1 apple.
2 or 3 handfuls of seedless grapes.
Handful of chocolate chips.
Almonds
Sunflower seeds
Yogurt
Granola
First, I take the frozen cherries and strawberries out of the freezer and put them in a bowl while I round up the rest of the ingrediedients. This gives them some time to thaw, making it slightly less likely for me to have to dig a paring knife out of my palm.
Once arranged on the table...
I start cutting up all the fruit.
Fruit thusly chopped...
...on to the nuts.
Did you really think I wouldn't need a hammer to make dinner?
Add almonds, sunflower seeds, grapes, granola, chocolate chips.
Now put however much yogurt you need in there. I don't like a soupy pile, I aim for more of a fruit slurry.
Stir that shit.
Fill your pie hole.
Repeat 5 days a week. Which five days? Be flexible - make sure you are eating other stuff on your "off days" (I am partial to hot dogs with cheese) so as to keep things interesting and your meat index above zero. Enjoy, and happy eating!
08 February 2011
Tales of Failure and Frustration: Commuting Edition
Part One: Getting To Work.
After a few sweaty hours on the trainer, I headed out to work on my commuter bike. I generally take the esplanade (which comes with its own set of irritants that I will inevitably detail in a later post) but because of the recent snolocaust and Bostons subsequent inability to hire competent plow-monkeys to remove it, I have been forced to ride up (cue ominous music) Commonwealth Avenue.
This does not usually put me in a good mood.
What made this morning special was the fact that I was stranded behind the Worst Cyclist Of All Time. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I can say with some certainty that after much debate and peer review, she has finally been found. Besides being a walking cliche - janky singlespeed conversion, tiny shorts, tights, knee socks, no helmet and more scarves than the 4th doctor - she literally failed at riding. This jackass had absolutely no business operating anything sharper than a pillow or more complicated than a tub of ice cream.
Unfortunately, on Comm ave during College Kid Wake Up and Shamble to Class Time, there is no way to lose anyone unless you are prepared to take on a level of risk completely disproportionate to the reward.
So I was stuck. I would get ahead, slow down for a red light, then be promptly and unceremoniously shoaled. Sometimes, I would even get the dreaded Hipster Look (like The Look sans pathos). Watching her wobble though a red light with one foot dragging on the ground, her bike shaking like a patient on Dr. Katz's couch, I prayed for the statistically inevitable, but alas Boston drivers were more vigilant than usual and neglected to deliver.
I was able to get around again, this time on the BU bridge, but once again fate (this time shaped like a UPS truck parked almost perpendicular to traffic) would intervene. I waited, patiently, for a gap between cars to open so I could continue up the street. Awesome Single Speed Girl sees Bike Racer Guy waiting like a chump, thinks "Aha! This is my chance to show him how good at life I am!"
Can you guess what happened next?
Hmmmm?
Yeah, so the retard in the tights thought she could thread the needle between the UPS truck and the parked cars. However, what little prefrontal cortex existed in that unprotected head of hers must have cried foul: at the last moment, she tried to stop.
But wait! Lo and Behold: Brakes are for Squares! At an incredibly low rate of speed, with all the grace of a frat kid driving home from a super bowl party, the goofball wedged herself between a parked car and the cab of the truck. I could hear, but not see, her attempts to free herself.
My commute went much more smoothly (though with perhaps 30% less hilarity) after that.
After a few sweaty hours on the trainer, I headed out to work on my commuter bike. I generally take the esplanade (which comes with its own set of irritants that I will inevitably detail in a later post) but because of the recent snolocaust and Bostons subsequent inability to hire competent plow-monkeys to remove it, I have been forced to ride up (cue ominous music) Commonwealth Avenue.
This does not usually put me in a good mood.
What made this morning special was the fact that I was stranded behind the Worst Cyclist Of All Time. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I can say with some certainty that after much debate and peer review, she has finally been found. Besides being a walking cliche - janky singlespeed conversion, tiny shorts, tights, knee socks, no helmet and more scarves than the 4th doctor - she literally failed at riding. This jackass had absolutely no business operating anything sharper than a pillow or more complicated than a tub of ice cream.
Unfortunately, on Comm ave during College Kid Wake Up and Shamble to Class Time, there is no way to lose anyone unless you are prepared to take on a level of risk completely disproportionate to the reward.
So I was stuck. I would get ahead, slow down for a red light, then be promptly and unceremoniously shoaled. Sometimes, I would even get the dreaded Hipster Look (like The Look sans pathos). Watching her wobble though a red light with one foot dragging on the ground, her bike shaking like a patient on Dr. Katz's couch, I prayed for the statistically inevitable, but alas Boston drivers were more vigilant than usual and neglected to deliver.
I was able to get around again, this time on the BU bridge, but once again fate (this time shaped like a UPS truck parked almost perpendicular to traffic) would intervene. I waited, patiently, for a gap between cars to open so I could continue up the street. Awesome Single Speed Girl sees Bike Racer Guy waiting like a chump, thinks "Aha! This is my chance to show him how good at life I am!"
Can you guess what happened next?
Hmmmm?
Yeah, so the retard in the tights thought she could thread the needle between the UPS truck and the parked cars. However, what little prefrontal cortex existed in that unprotected head of hers must have cried foul: at the last moment, she tried to stop.
But wait! Lo and Behold: Brakes are for Squares! At an incredibly low rate of speed, with all the grace of a frat kid driving home from a super bowl party, the goofball wedged herself between a parked car and the cab of the truck. I could hear, but not see, her attempts to free herself.
My commute went much more smoothly (though with perhaps 30% less hilarity) after that.
02 February 2011
Fellow Bike Racers: A (pretty decent, actually) Proposal:
As pretty much anyone reading this thing already knows, I did the Transylvania Epic last year. Anyone who knows that also knows what a pounding I took from bad luck and broken equipment. Regardless of broken bikes and bloody feet, I had such a good experience at the race I'm going back for another shot this may.
And I'm going to make it easier for you to get there.
What... How?
"I AM INTERESTED, BUT SUSPICIOUS!"
Dont worry, reluctant Yankee. I have a proposition that will benefit the both of us.
My proposition is this: I'm headed down there anyway, right? Well it's a pretty boring trip and gas is getting expensive, so why not get some company... I will drive down AND provide transport to and from remote stages in exchange for an equal split of gas money. I will even try NOT to creep you out at truck stops.
"Wow, that sounds great!"
I know, right.
GET IN THE VAN.Here are my stipulations:
1. I will pick you up anywhere in the greater Boston area.
2. If you live farther than that, but are on the way (like, really on the way - if you live in Camden, you are out of luck. Actually, if you live in Camden, you should think of moving someplace better anyway) I can pick you up.
3. You are less creepy than me.
4. You actually HAVE money to contribute to the gas fund. (I don't mean to be suspicious, I've just been on tour a lot.)
5. I have room for three (3) people, bicycles and gear. Obviously, the more the merrier (or at least cheaper).
Questions? Concerns? Want to tell me how helpful and awesome I am?
Email is coggsci at gmail dot com.
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