Stan the man

Didn't know you too well.

Seems like you lived a full 48.

Your knives were things of beauty. Shiny, sharp, wood grips that showed the beauty of the grain.

On that one ride, I was singing Story Of My Life in my head; I pulled up to you and you were actually humming THE SAME SONG. From now on you will be in my head when Social D comes on the radio.

Snuffed out, just like that. One too many beers? Texting while driving? Driving while talking? We'll never know. You were doing everything right on the bike, on the road, right place, right time.

Only not at that moment.

Requiescat in pace.

Some fine pitchin'

In no particular order, in the last few weeks since I have chosen to jot down thoughts I have gone to Akron to visit my sister and her family, checked out the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, fixed their fence, ate a Primanti Brothers Cap and Provie sandwich in Pittsburgh, visited my grandmother's grave in Braddock, hung out with my cousin from Brooklyn, her family, and 3 of their friends, hosted 3 dinner parties with some friends, saw Neil Young at DAR, saw the doctor who told me I needed to "make some changes", rode my bike a few times, watched Susanna score a goal in her last game in the Takoma Park rec league (now she's joining the Catholic Church of soccer leagues), watched the building that I have been working on for the last 4 years grow another story (roof slab to be poured this week!), made an unfortunate staff change at work, celebrated the graduation of our neighbor's son who looks like the Flying Tomato, almost went to Miami for the AIA Convention, and saw Steven Strasburg (live) make his auspicious debut as a Washington National.

I think it's safe to say that he'll have a slightly better baseball career than I ever had.

Eureka...sort of

So I'm taking a shower in my "substantially complete" bathroom on Saturday before the 2nd of two parties this weekend when it hit me.

Ever since I started working in the field of architecture, I've collected bits of paper filled with data, sketches, all sorts of information that was immediately important at a particular moment in that slice of my career. I've collected it in 3 ring binders, file folders, magazine holders, piles...then the internet happened and I've got a digital version of this pile of bric-a-brac that we all recognize as the unorganized "Favorites" or "Bookmarks" bar. My own memory serves as the organizational traffic cop that determines to which projects these bits of information are connected.

The beauty of the field I work in is the relentless accumulation of knowledge based on practical problem-solving, puzzle resolution, iterative design flow, and plain old curiosity. The problem has always been to compile it all into a searchable, accessible reservoir of information that isn't a pile of useless paper or an unnavigable sea of web addresses.

I think I'm onto something. I'll just organize this "data" into some sort of "base". Oh yeah. That's been done. So instead I can just scan everything and have electronic versions of paper cluttering up various drives. Or I can organize my favorites bar. Stop laughing.

So I took a little bit of that and a little bit of this and created this:

The Elusive Binder

I figure I've been blogging for some time now and the format lends itself to a flexible, expandable, searchable, editable document that I can access from anywhere. I can even add anecdotal comments that will trigger synapses that will open up memory currents that will feed my creative lobe so that both of you can read more utter scintillation on this blog. My favorites bar can shrink and be filled with more important things like how to pitch a tent made of ham or quick access to the activities of Chad Vader, day shift manager.

Like all of my compulsive organizational tendencies, I wonder how long this will last. Two blogs. Wow, that's livin'.

The better team

Two weeks ago tonight we sat in disbelief as we saw Montreal take apart the Caps in the first round.

Tonight we sat in awe as they did the same thing to the reigning Stanley Cup champions.

When my sister and brother in law (Caps season tix holders) watched the dwindling minutes of the home loss two weeks ago, the Habs fans in their section were shaking hands with Caps fans, and told them (in accented French Canadian English) that the better team did not win.

I beg to differ with our northern neighbors, as the better team did win that night, and tonight against the Pens. Perhaps the more talented team did not win, but certainly the better team did.

Now that I've watched 14 straight games featuring the Montreal Canadiens, I am invested in their future success. Here's to adding a 24th (!) Stanley Cup banner to their rafters.

Crazy boys

"It takes a special kind of craziness to be a professional athlete", so sayeth my wife, who is married to a doughboy who eschews all kinds o' pain.

While I hold these lunatics in high admiration, I am glad I don't have to earn my paycheck with these sorts of "workplace hazards", like:

Losing eight teeth in the first period, getting your roots trimmed, and coming back into the game in the third period (with about 100 stitches in your mouth). "It's the playoffs", he says.

Or take a puck in the face FOR THE SECOND TIME IN A SEASON.

Breaking a collarbone or clavicle while training or racing, and figuring out how best to prepare for the Tour de France, less than two months away.

Takes a certain type I guess.

The epitome of smooth

Pay particular attention to 0:17 to 0:25 of this vid:

Cyclocross dismount/remount at race speed on road shoes on cobbles (fercryinoutloud!!!) and doesn't miss a beat. Oh and he won the race too.

Also of note is the Mike Green-like mohawk (but with added mullet effect) hairdo on his mechanic who sighs relief.

Fabian Cancellara, man and beast.

Remember when?

It was way back in April of 2010, way back when (remember the good old days?) the Washington Capitals were the best team in the EN-tire NHL, finishing out the last week of their storybook season against the Bears of Beantown. Adam's friend Andre got an extra ticket to the game, so the two of them went downtown to watch the Caps take apart the Bruins (it was actually a close overtime win for the hometown boys). I drove down to pick them up, and I waited as the red-clad throngs left the arena with a promising spring of playoff hockey. We had, after all, re-acquired my favorite Slovakian defenseman in a late season trade for 2nd round action (he was injured). Sorry I didn't get to see you this spring, Juice.

I even saw one of my college/racing friend and his girlfriend as they were leaving too. The boys met me at the car and we headed home, talking about the game. Andre actually plays hockey, and he's a great kid. Parents and older sister are good people, too. So then Andre drops the bomb that later that week he's going to Children's Hospital to get one of his heart valves replaced. HOLY COW. I figured that once he recovers from that he'll be able to play hockey again, but apparently the doctors are recommending that he doesn't do strenuous activity anymore. That's quite a shattering realization when you're 15, and he puts on a brave face every day. As it turns out this was his third major heart surgery in his short life, and maybe not his last. He is in my thoughts often.

So after yelling at the Dallas Ave ruffians yesterday I saw him standing in his driveway a few houses away and checked in on him. He can't do a whole lot for another week or so, and we chatted briefly. Then it dawned on me that the Caps gave him a gift that was better than anything they would've done this spring. By losing like CHOKING DOGS in the first round, they spared Andre's heart from any additional stress as he recovers from this surgery. No need to tax that muscle anymore, we can wait for spring of 2011 for that.

Speaking of the Bruins, here's one of many of their stellar ads. Kay I know you're not a hockey fan but I think you'll like this.