Not a good way to end

Groundhog day???

ed. note: I can't strikethrough on this dopey blogger word processing "application", so apologies for the italicized boldness masquerading as parenthetical asides.

Les Habitantes march into DC and steal one (series). Not a good way to start the Stanley Cup run (or end a first round upset which results in a meltdown of historic proportions).

Jaroslav Halak was a stone wall for most of the game (series).

Alex Ovechkin (Semin & Green) was (were) barely there tonight, as all the left-handed sticks of Habs defensemen seemed to always be in his (their) way (and all the d-men too).

Ouch. (OUCH)

Hoping this trend doesn't continue

I majored in history.

I've been a Caps fan since the mid-eighties.

They now face yet another Game 7 in a series that should not have gone this long.

Historically, though, it doesn't look promising. See the cogent recap of their 7 game series collapses here.

Here's to hoping that history doesn't repeat itself tonight.

Hit and run

On my way into work today I was at the light on Connecticut Avenue where the Cap Crescent Trail crosses. Just sitting there, waiting for peds and cyclists to cross. It is a heavily travelled commuter arterial, and since it's a long green light, people are happy to dash across when their turn comes around.

Except for the young woman on the Trek road bike who was beginning to cross (in the crosswalk, with the walk signal in her favor) when suddenly she was tapped by a car that was turning right to go north. Not hard enough that she was thrown off her bike and severely injured, but hard enough to force her to unclip her pedal and put out her foot to make sure she didn't go down softly. Certainly enough to raise her adrenalin level, as the next thing I saw was the woman carrying her bike across the street while yelling at the driver who was pulling away.

Technically that was a hit and run, and it happened so fast that the victim didn't get a license number. I know this because I immediately pulled over to see if she was OK, and I asked her about the exchange. No "Are you OK?" or "I'm so sorry". Instead it was "You were in my way." I don't think I would be thinking clearly enough to get a plate number if some doorknob had the gall to be miffed at me for inconveniencing their right turn.

I told her I used to wrench at bike shops for a living and did a quick once-over. Her wheel was toast, but barely rideable once I opened up her rear brake. She headed out after thanking me for stopping, rear wheel ka-klunking down the trail.

It bugged me for the rest of the day that someone could be so callous as to "tap" a cyclist with their car and not think that there could be any repercussions at all. Worst case scenario ends in death; in this seemingly minor incident a rear wheel is ruined, trust that one is safe in a crosswalk with a favorable signal is eroded, and someone is driving away in a two ton behemoth thinking that cyclists are all assholes.

I hope the 20-something woman in the Washington Broomball League t-shirt on a mid level Trek road bike had a better day after that crappy start.

Not a good way to start...

Les Habitantes march into DC and steal one. Not a good way to start the Stanley Cup run.

Jaroslav Halak was a stone wall for most of the game.

Alex Ovechkin was barely there tonight, as all the left-handed sticks of Habs defensemen seemed to always be in his way.

Ouch.

Easter Sunday

There’s a guy I work with every once in awhile whose career revolves around making sure that sewage gets from where it starts to where it needs to go in a manner that does not attract undue attention. Usually this work is just once of the many things that Joe the Plumber does, but this particular guy doesn’t assemble pipe or solder fittings or install water heaters. He spends his days clearing out sewer lines by jetting water at high pressure through clogs; using medieval style cutting heads on the end of his jets to cut through nasty debris; and checking his work with a camera that scopes and locates lines far underground and tells us what condition they’re in. The resultant video tapes (now he uses DVDs), known as “dirty movies”, are invaluable to property owners and landlords that need to maintain the arteries of crap, as nothing defines squalor more than sitting in 2” of filth because the orifices in your waste pipes are overwhelmed with, well, waste.

He is an interesting character, Robert is. With a Scottish brogue that is not nearly as thick as Groundskeeper Willie’s, he still talks about extracting DEbrree from pipes with a glint in his eye, as if the relief exacted from the operation is actually a release of pressure in his own body.

He’s done quite well cleaning and filming sewer lines, and the most tedious part of his job is cleaning his equipment. I’d say it’s constantly being covered in filth, but that’s just me.

I wished he was at my parents’ house on Easter Sunday.

While we were cooking and cleaning up after the feast, my mother and brother in law were furtively active in the basement, having mentioned that there was a minor stoppage in the wash basin that takes the discharge from the clothes washer. Nothing a little Drano couldn’t fix, so things seemed fine. Until we went downstairs and saw that the dishwater wasn’t going down the drain, instead it was overflowing the basin and creating general havoc on the floor. The kitchen sink sewage wasn’t getting past a clog just past the wash basin in the basement, so it was going into the only catch basin it could find, and Drano wasn’t working.

So we bailed the greywater into buckets and dumped it all into the toilet, continuing to do so as dishes were washed upstairs, and seeing how Drano splattered on my shirt creates neat new patterns, though not nearly as fun as tie dye. The next day the plumber came and used his electric snake to power past the clog, and everything is running clean again.

Turns out that the DEbrree in the pipes, which is usually loose, greasy, and in a more liquefied state in normal house operations seemed to calcify and harden over the past few months, as both of my parents were on the other side of the world while we were all being buried in snow. While we would periodically check the house to make sure that the mail wasn’t piling up and the roof wasn’t caving in, virtually no water ran through the waste lines. Therein lay the source of the clog—usually on the dirty movies we see a diaper or tampon or some other not-supposed-to-flush object as the major culprit, but in this case, a general lack of activity gummed up the works.

Much like the human body. Keep those wheels turning. Your veins, arteries, and heart will thank you.

Easter Saturday

We never bought a video game console until the Wii came out. It was a way to save myself from myself, as I was a bit of an arcade rat as a teenager and was addicted to Defender, among other games.

Those graphics are so AWESOME!

So now we have a Wii, and no doubt we all have seen innumerable YouTube videos showing the destruction wrought by inadvertent handling of the Wii remote (which is why they have straps now, which should ostensibly be used). Very funny in a "haha boy that's funny I can't imagine what it must feel like to have a piece of disposable electronic equipment become toast" sort of way.

Well that destruction visited our house this weekend. Being Easter weekend and all, families converged on our abode to visit and relax, eat and drink, and have the good times that families have, often magnified by the holiday (Thanksgiving comes to mind). So my nephew was bowling against my teenager, the latter of whom rolled a gutter ball (WHO ROLLS GUTTER BALLS IN WII BOWLING???) but that's another story which will be played out later in life, as he will be irreparably damaged by my criticism from failing in one frame of a fake video bowling game.

I digress. My nephew, who (or is it whom?) I love very much, and is named after me (only in his first name, and I think that was not intentional), was rolling some intense frames against Mr. Gutter Ball. His younger sister, who has a propensity to bother him in a most exacting manner, pushed him, which threw him off his motion and led to the unfortunate loss of grip of the remote, amidst much yelling and other consternation. Since none of this happened in slow motion, the resultant sturm und drang became the highlight of the day, as John was quite upset about destroying our TV and at one point would have gladly exchanged his sister for the TV. Therein lay the daily lesson where we told an 8 year old the major differences between people and things, and how they cannot be equated, and that his uncle and aunt were not really angry, because accidents happen. He's the type of boy that needs to process these thoughts and emotions for awhile before moving on to the next adventure.

So here's what the destroyed TV looks like now:

I know. If my iPhone had a better camera function, one would still not be able to see the tiny scratch a bit northwest of the centerpoint of the screen which looks so innocuous to the naked eye...until you turn on the TV, thusly:

Pretty cool. The emanation of the impact point is quite evident here. Unfortunately it's kind of hard to watch hockey and the Tur day Fraaaance when the technicolor dreamcoat is draping the screen like some sort of psychedelic Etch-a-Sketch.

So after everyone left I thought briefly about Lenten sacrifices (briefly) and then went to Best Buy and bought a new TV. I've been meaning to get one, as my eyes have been failing me as I age, so the obvious solution was to spend the money I would put into glasses on a new hi-def instead.

Priorities, ya know. You can't live a solid life without 'em.

First time ever

This may be the spring of firsts. It also may not, but I am guardedly and cautiously optimistic.

Caps beat the Pens tonight, and by doing so swept them in their season series for the first time ever. First time they've earned the President's Trophy too. And while they were at the 1998 Cup finals, they will hopefully celebrate another first sometime in June.

It'll take 3 divisional and conference series sets to get there, but I am guardedly and cautiously optimistic that it will happen.

It's already been 5 years...

Tour of Flanders was yesterday. The Ronde Van Vlaanderen. I happened to turn on the live stream when Boonen and Cancellara made their escape and battled it out over the last 40K. Didn't watch the rest 'cause it was Easter Sunday and we needed to leave for church. Such is the life of a lapsed Catholic.

Such a great race, and emblematic of the Belgian mania for hard racing.

Went back to the archives to find a posting I placed on my club's listserve about my journey to see these classics:

From April 2005:

I thought I'd share a few of my experiences from my recent trip to
Belgium. As some of you know, I was able to coordinate a family trip
to Belgium on the exact week as the Tour of Flanders, Ghent Wevelgem,
and Paris Roubaix. My wife had lived in Belgium as a teenager and
always wanted to go back to visit. Her spring break was 2 weeks
before our trip, the kids' spring break was a week before the trip,
and mine was whenever I wanted SO WE DID IT WHEN I COULD SEE 3 SPRING
CLASSICS EVERYONE ELSE'S SCHEDULE BE DAMNED. Oh, and the family
vacation was fun too.

I'm not THAT selfish, but if you ever get the opportunity, go to
Belgium and see a spring classic, any spring classic. I met
Americans at every race, the Belgian fans were passionate and
friendly, and the locals in Roubaix (which is a decent sized city)
were helpful. We stayed in an apartment in Brussels and I took the
train to small towns that were way off the beaten path. If only we
had a train system in this country that was as efficient...oops, this
country is about 50 times the size of Belgium, so that's asking a bit
much.

The way it broke down was I saw the finish of Flanders, the start and
finish of G-W, and the finish of P-R. Without renting a car or being
in a British cycle tour, seeing starts and finishes was pretty much
the way to go, because you can see the riders up close, the team
cars, the buses, the mechanics, etc. There's also plenty of food
(frites and waffles and bratwurst type sausages) and beer and more
beer. I got some decent video, and in Wevelgem while I was waiting
the finish we watched local amateurs compete in a circuit race
through the small downtown area.

It was a Belgian week, as Boonen won the big ones and Nico Mattan won
Wevelgem emotionally only miles from his hometown. The scenes after
the races was controlled chaos, as the riders would book back to the
team buses, leave the bikes for the mechanics, and get on. If there
were no media obligations or other distractions, that bus was outa
there once it was loaded up. The Discovery bus was always at the end
of the line, ready to roll.

Some of the Americans I met were there to watch the races or ride
parts of the courses...I mostly met families; a father/son combo from
South Carolina that wore matching Postal kits; a traditional unit
from Houston (both former Cat 4's) with 2 year old boy and 6 month
old girl tagging along; fresh out of college dude with mom and dad
from Wisconsin, drinking beer and riding parts of the Tour of
Flanders course. I also met a guy from somewhere in the midwest who
was studying climatology and went to the finish at Flanders because
he had never seen a race and wanted to check out the fuss. He
noticed that I spoke English and that I was gesturing with a Flemish
guy about how to get to the finish from the train station, so he
tagged along. So as we walked to the town sponsoring the finish, the
three of us could communicate because I spoke English and bikin',
Flemish guy spoke Flemish and bikin', and climatologist spoke English
and Flemish. So by the time we got to the finish area Flemish guy
went to look for his mates and we watched the last 50K on the giant
diamond vision screen and saw Boonen roll in to the roaring crowds
and the Flemish lion flags and banners. WOW.

Got many more stories, but I thought I'd fill you all in on a pretty
cool trip, one that I've wanted to take since I saw this mag called
Winning with Sean Kelly on the cover winning Paris Roubaix--it's
everything I thought it would be.

Yeah it was pretty cool. Five years ago already. Time do fly.