Extreme walking

Many readers, friends, and family are already familiar with the various videos out there on the WWW that feature extreme cycling activities, such as alleycat races. But as a board member of the Minnesota Bicycle and Pedestrian Alliance, I (David) feel that it is also important to pay tribute to those extreme pedestrians out there. Thus, HandDS presents:


extreme walking (.wmv ...sorry all you Mac users)

For anyone anywhere in Minnesota who has the slightest inkling to have their voice as a pedestrian or bicyclist heard, I urge you to attend the MN-BPA membership party. Not only can you become a member (and/or board member) here, but you can also express your concerns and/or desires, even if you don't want to become a member. Those of us who have been participating have only been acting on our own interests. If you're wondering why no one has been addressing your interests, it is probably because you haven't been to a party like this one.

Pressure drop

With graduation now a distant memory, Christmas having come and gone, and the band practice and new MN-BPA board duties becoming more comfortable, it's nice to be able to sit back, look at to-do lists and not feel overwhelmed. Taking the time to post an entry while at work, even while working alone and inundated with a bazillion requests, has never been easier.
...So on to the recaps.

A few days before Christmas, dad (Mr. Brier) arrived. Tasks ensued. I was able to put in my 2-cents worth of effort without sacrifice this time due to my lack of other responsibilities (though calling in sick may have helped - and for the record, I was sick). Then came the holiday celebrations. We hosted the family this year (by no means is the entire family pictured - it's a small camera; with Xi's philosophy [the gods must be crazy] there is no way we could fit all those people in there). We had a delicious lunch, complete with Glogg and Wassail, and then retired to the living room to open gifts. To keep the cats form knocking over all the fishy smelling dishes we had dirtied, we locked them both in the basement. Of course Bull, never the complainer, made the most of the occasion by deciding to take a stroll on the asbestos covered pipes. Needless to say, no one was willing to clean him afterwards. His feet are still gray.

That evening, Heather and I (David) went to Andy's house for some good ol' fashioned Christmas celebrating. Heather went so far as to write a blog entry about the experience, but it hasn't been posted yet. I still have to teach her how to operate this new blog service. So other than mentioning the gifts Andy received from his ma (a martini set, a carton of smokes, and a shotgun) I'll leave the rest for another time.

Sunday was Christmas with my extended family. Cousin Mary hosted this time. It was a blast. There was good food, good drink (re-supplied by us; we had to run home to get more, and we brought Aunt Pat with us to see the house and compare it to her old house with the same floor plan), and an entertaining game called "bite the bag". It was all topped off with a "meet Mary's neighbors" fire alarm. Our party started the event. Heather and I used our security guard skills to squelch the alarm, forgetting in the process that the off-the-books protocol at St. Kates doesn't always fly in other large residential buildings. But the Fire Department was forgiving. They pretended to believe that the alarm had somehow reset itself. Mary reassured us as well, claiming that the regular building managers utilize the same practice.

Now it's back to home improvement projects with dad for a few more days and then I can start getting a feel for the frantic, fast paced, "your radical ideologies won't fly here" real world.

'til then...

Slick no more

I bet one of those building studded tires classes would come in handy for days like today.

It's Christmas tree time in the city

We finally got around to buying a Christmas tree on Saturday. We decided to use the bike trailer, as it is less of a hassle than tying the tree to a car. The neighborhood kids thought the idea was fun. We got the tree at the farmers' market, so I (David) had to go down and up the hill. Since the cops put up one of those speed clocks on the Kellogg bridge, I finally got to compare the top speed of my bikes. On Friday, I took the single speed (42x16) to a meeting at work. The sign said I was only going 21. I don't think I could get that bike to go any faster unless I put on a few pounds. Saturday's bike was the blue Raleigh workhorse. I was hauling an empty trailer, going into a strong head wind, and the rear derailer wouldn't shift to the highest gear. The sign said I was going 30. For a while I was thinking that I should increase the gear ratio on the single speed. But then, as I was hauling the Christmas tree back up the Kellogg bridge, I remembered why it was nice to have a low gear. So, at least for now, the single speed will stay at 42x16.

Card

I knew that I had inherited a creative sense of humor. But it is obvious that I still have a ways to go.

Spelunking party survivors

Who knew riding in the daylight could be so much fun? Yesterday I (David) decided to cut my nap short and go do the riding that I had planned to do on Friday but had accidentally slept through. I not only wanted to look into career possibilities, but also explore the potential for last minute holiday shopping on Arcade Street and Payne Avenue. I began the ride by stopping at the Versa Foundry. It turns out that it is a Minneapolis facility, owned by Versa, that utilizes a factory in China for their labor-produced bits. The foundry in St. Paul still uses local labor. So I applied. Though I’d be a bit leery about working for an owner that is in cahoots with the commies. Something to keep in mind should they call me in for an interview and offer me more money than I’m making now.

From there I rode up Arcade and down Payne. A lot of the shops have changed since I was young. Going by at a slow speed, I was finally able to see all of the details of the changes. I made sure to stop at all half-dozen or so remaining antique stores. They were all closed. Oddly though, at least five of them had signs in their windows stating that they should have been open at that hour. Perhaps antique dealers don’t typically fare as well as other retailers this time of year.

In starting down Payne avenue, a sign caught my attention that said “home schooling resources”. I thought this was a great concept. Knowing that the odds were that they probably catered more to the non-secular crowd, I decided to venture a peek inside anyway, in hopes of discovering access to a vast network of local home schoolers (secular and non-secular alike). From what I could gather, it was almost exclusively a bookstore. Upon entering, the two women who had been behind the counter in the back, ran like startled deer into a dark corner of the store. I decided to slowly make my way in their direction so as to make an inquiry about local networks, events, or other non-book resources. But I was moving too slow. The titles on the shelves were read as I passed by. “Biology, It’s Better Than Fiction”, “Science and God”, “Science with God”, “Science is Satan”, etc. On the other side were racks upon racks of illustrated biblical stories. Before I could get to the back counter, a gaggle of holy men, armed with torches, holy water, and crucifixes emerged from a vortex in the ceiling, and I ran screaming for the door.

From there I continued south on Payne. Though it wasn’t news to me, I noted again that the Jolly Time Favors store was no longer there. Learning that was no surprise. I went in there once as a child with several dollars in my pocket. I had a desire to build a collection of those cheap little Chinese made plastic vehicles like one would find in the Perkin’s Restaurant wishing well (back in the day when all Chinese made toys were cheap plastic vehicles). But when I went into the store, a grumpy old lady stopped me and said I had to be accompanied by a grown-up if I, their key demographic, wanted to give them pocketfuls of cash. There’s a genius business practice for you. I spent no time mourning the loss of that local independent. Instead, I moved on to see if the UandI café (as mentioned in the May [18th] mblog archive) had opened up yet.

With the café still decoratively boarded up, I got back to the job search. I popped in at the Central States Wire Products, Inc. building on Edgerton. It turns out that they aren’t a manufacturer, but rather a warehouse distributor. So no jobs there. Being at the head of St. Paul’s lower landing, and with my next destination on University Avenue, I decided to cut across the valley. I stopped at an overlook that equated to a triple overpass for various forms of transportation (if you count small Chinese made floating toy boats as transportation). It looked like an interesting location; the kind I wish I had discovered when I was much younger. After snapping a few photos, I moved on to the boiler maker shop. I arrived at the other side of the street just in time to see the last office employee leave for the day. Next ride perhaps.

The lower landing valley was still itching my inner child’s explorative curiosity. So I went back and blazed myself a trail down to the new park that is beginning to appear in the old hobo hotel. The development of new trails certainly aided in the exploration process, but it was the chopping down of all the trees that really allowed me to see things I’ve never seen before. I was able to see Carver’s Cave for the first time. Blazing trails does have its drawbacks though. On my way back up to the top of the bluffs I caught a stick in my spokes which ended up snapping my fender. Stopping to take a photo of the event robbed me of the valuable minutes necessary to take a sunset photo. With the machine defeated for the day, and no lights on the bike, I decided to ride home and finish my nap.

So what might have delayed this bike trip for 3 days, many of you might not be wondering. Well I’ll tell you anyway. The weekend was all about Sis. Friday was her band recital, and the rest of the weekend was non stop birthday party fun (well, at least for her it was). A hotel room near the MOA was rented and Sis and her friends spent the weekend playing “pack a hotel room like a can of sardines” and “let’s confuse the elders by splitting up into small groups and disappearing for vast amounts of time”. Sunday, noonish, at the conclusion of the party, I heard mom say for the second year in a row “never again”. Despite the stress, Heather and I were able to come away from it in awe of Faith and her friends. Such a diversity of friends never existed amongst the cliquish surroundings of our Jr. High days. Diverse not just in demographics, but interests and personality as well.


Wow, this is a long entry (can you tell I’m done with school?). I was going to write about all of the details surrounding the Tegan and Sara concert last week (such as the strict dress code of striped and collered Izod shirts and a girlfriend on one’s arm), but I’ll cut it short. Instead, I’ll just recommend that y’all go see them the next time they come stateside.

Shanghaied

Several months ago, knowing that the end of school was near, I (David) decided to put a job search on the back burner (yeah, I know… I’m beating it to death, but it is still a good analogy). And now of course, it is time to start thinking about making some serious cash. Knowing that I’d have a portion of my day free, I decided to do a bit of preliminary reconnaissance. With one of my highest priorities being the potential employers’ close proximity to the house, I’ve been considering my options accordingly. I had been eyeballing this place since spring. It took me a while to find them on the WWW. Glancing through their web site, I began to realize that all the pictures were of some rather technical careers. My hope had been that a “foundry” would actually involve some grunt work entry-level positions. Well, in digging a little deeper, I was able to find where those jobs are housed. Unfortunately, a daily commute to China is a bit outside of my budget.

So I think that my scouting efforts later this morning will have to be limited to the one or two intersections on the East Side that still have the glorious industrial manufacturing facilities that I remember from childhood. The opportunities are looking bleak. Boiler making may be too technical, wire spooling to tedious, and working with (and “erecting”) rebar conjures up images of working outdoors. But I’m sure the scouting mission will at least make for an enjoyable bike ride.

I’s gradutated

Well, not quite yet. But I (David) am done with school. Yesterday was the not-so-grand finally. I think it is safe to say that all went according to my ‘pass the remainder of my classes’ plan. The only challenge now is ensuring I am sober enough to walk straight when it comes time to ceremoniously receive my career entitlement papers (AKA diploma).

Now that it is all over and done with, I’d like to say that I finally have time to take on new challenges. But it would appear that the back burners are already filled beyond capacity. I also have a few tasks tucked away in the microwave, the toaster oven, and some miscellaneous items resting on the radiators. Some day, I’d like to reduce it all to a small cast iron wood burning stove; the kind that demands constant attention and has only 2 burners, but is nostalgic and inviting enough to make passers-by jump at the chance to tend the kettle and fire for a while. Until then though, I have things to do. This world ain’t gunna change itself. Or if it does, I’d hate to witness the disaster that could inspire such a change.

Belated legal briefs

When most people unwind before bed they have the good fortune of being able to take in an episode of Rose, Letterman, or (shudder) Leno. But not me (David). Getting off work at 8 AM, I come home, feed the cats, crack open a beer and sit down to take in a much smaller spectrum of options. People with sophisticated tastes such as mine (and I don’t think it egotistical to say such, given what follows) are significantly less than fond of morning ‘news’ shows (with the exception of Tom Hauser’s “At issue” on Sundays). So, failing to count the PBS morning programs, the option I’m left with is Matlock. It’s certainly not the greatest show in the world, but its theme song alone is enough to put the driveling content on those morning news shows to shame.

The other day, I was draining the last few drops from a can of PBR while listening to said theme. As the credits were rolling up the screen I saw Burt Reynolds’ name bunched in with the various producers. Now I wouldn’t put it past ol’ Burt to be a producer in some capacity, but I just can’t picture him working on a show that, in its time, was known for an audience of squares. Being dumbfounded, I did a quick WWW search, but found nothing to confirm what I saw in the credits. However, the ‘IMDB’ database also left out Reynolds’ appearance in the X-files, so it is obviously not that accurate. I guess this one is going to remain a mystery. Despite taking in the show a few times per week over the last few months, I don’t think I could muster the patience to watch it regularly until I’ve seen all 9 years worth of episodes, thus giving me the opportunity to catch the same episode again.

To make a short story long, this observation of mine could be taken as a hint by friends and family who read this, that perhaps it is time I get my hands on some of those DVD things that contain re-runs of more current TV shows; perhaps one of those funny shows on cable TV that I’ve never seen before. Until then, I’ll continue to wait for the day that ‘The Untouchables’ returns to the 8:00 time slot.


I had my last capstone class yesterday. I did manage to turn my paper in before the final deadline (not to be confused with the suggested deadline). I got a whopping 10 out of 25 on it, which is good considering that I was aiming for 3 or 4 out of 25. You see, what I meant in my earlier post by my need to finish the paper, I was really saying that I needed to start the paper. Anyway, I was under the impression that I had a grade of around 72/100. By turning in a 3 or 4 point paper, I could be assured a C in the class (welcome to the logic of senioritis). But it turns out that I had a 78 (now 88) and I didn’t need to turn in the paper at all. Go figure. If there is one thing I can say that I have definitely learned in college, it is how to gain the sympathy of professors and higher education institutions. I suspect that the reason my grade was so high was due to the letter that accompanied my paper rather than the paper itself. But let’s hope it was my crappy writing at the last minute because I still have one more final class (in a different subject) in which I have another final paper, as well as a test. From then on my role as a student ends. Perhaps I will become a teacher. I can start by teaching Heather the art of procrastination. She is currently weeks ahead in homework in her master’s level class. So no more using homework as an excuse to get out of something for her.