Man, I put Scott through a lot of trouble for nothing.
This morning I got an email from Steve at Bicycle Doctor stating my parts were in for my aerobars. I was trying to figure a way to pick them up as expeditiously as possible when it struck me that perhaps someone in the club was heading up there today. So I put out the desperate text asking the question. No after no came in, until Scott texted he was "10 minutes away".
Perfect! Since he was already almost there and was going anyway, I asked him to pick up my kit. He agreed, and I was feeling pretty good about it. It wasn't until later I sorted out he wasn't headed to Bicycle Doctor, he works 10 minutes away. So yes, I had my friend run an errand for me on his lunch time. I am so selfish. Sorry about that, Scott!
I was happy to have the parts though. The aerobar kit Rand loaned me might have worked, but I was really shaky on them. The stance was far too narrow for my shoulder width, and I found myself extremely twitchy in the controls. I was afraid any sort of sudden motion on my part would likely result in a crash. This wasn't going to keep me from doing it, but I would be in full-on "pucker mode" the whole time.
It was all for nothing. Even heading down to Mitchell, it was obvious the ride was doomed. Storms were popping up all over Lawrence and surrounding counties. They weren't moving, they were just getting bigger, spreading out. No chance to wait out the storms - daylight is shorter every day. The only choice was to go ahead and have some Wendy's. So John T., Rand, Scott, and I did just that.
Rand made a new friend. The old lady clearly wanted the seat in which Rand was sitting, and her constant banging her walker against the chair did nothing to dislodge him. She tried standing there looking pitiful, lost, and helpless, but heartless Rand just turned his back. Actually, he wasn't trying to be mean. I was getting a kick out of the whole thing when the first whiff of her perfume wafted its way to me. It was enough to make my eyes water. I really don't know how he kept that seat. At the range he was getting it that force field was set to "stun".
We finished the evening with a walk on the track for the Cancer whatever it was. I don't know precisely what it was all about as I only found out about it today. That said, Rand and I walked almost 2 miles with Jimmy and Scott, and were later joined by Leisa. John T. hung around long enough to collect his choice Colts tickets which were pried from the lovely hands of Jimmy's daughter Haley. If you thought Rand was heartless...
Lord of the Segments, Pt. 2
Normdalph the Grey was a beloved frequent visitor whose time stretched far beyond the memory of the eldest Bedfordtonian, who often lived more than 150 years. In truth, Normdalph was far more ancient than was realized. He was from another time, the first age of the world, a time of great conflict. Normdalph the Grey possessed the knowledge and wisdom collected over an eon of serving all living things and preserving the old ways. He'd been a general, a politician, a doctor, many other pursuits far too numerous to recount, but to the simple Bedfortonians he was now only a wizard.
Normdalph could often be seen approaching Bedfordton on the narrow, dusty dirt roads that spiraled mindlessly out of town. His gait was peculiar, not quite a run, not quite a walk, and his head lolled to one side. It was often said Normdalph's eyes were rolled up in his head, and he would be uttering gibberish words from some lost language. Anyone else behaving in such a fashion would have been renounced, but the youth of Bedfordton flocked to Normdalph on sight, marveling at his uniform, his wisdom, but most of all his humor. He was everything respectable folk should avoid, yet he was utterly irresistible.
The uniform... it was slate-grey, wide in the shoulders, which carried braided chords of gold. Around the shoulders was a short cape of similar grey, large enough to almost wrap around his chest, but only long enough to reach his waist. Its high collar sported brass buttons of intricate design. The coat opened down the front and had two rows of similar brass buttons, as did the sleeves. Numerous medalions littered his breast, the meaning of which had long ago been lost. The coat was split in the back, and partially covered the pants, which were also slate-grey and cut in a straight-leg fashion. Polished black leather riding boots completed the clothing, but the uniform was not complete without the long, elven-hewn saber clasped in the sheath ever at his side. It was said the blade of the saber would glow an unearthly blue when Dorcs were about.
This morning I got an email from Steve at Bicycle Doctor stating my parts were in for my aerobars. I was trying to figure a way to pick them up as expeditiously as possible when it struck me that perhaps someone in the club was heading up there today. So I put out the desperate text asking the question. No after no came in, until Scott texted he was "10 minutes away".
Perfect! Since he was already almost there and was going anyway, I asked him to pick up my kit. He agreed, and I was feeling pretty good about it. It wasn't until later I sorted out he wasn't headed to Bicycle Doctor, he works 10 minutes away. So yes, I had my friend run an errand for me on his lunch time. I am so selfish. Sorry about that, Scott!
I was happy to have the parts though. The aerobar kit Rand loaned me might have worked, but I was really shaky on them. The stance was far too narrow for my shoulder width, and I found myself extremely twitchy in the controls. I was afraid any sort of sudden motion on my part would likely result in a crash. This wasn't going to keep me from doing it, but I would be in full-on "pucker mode" the whole time.
It was all for nothing. Even heading down to Mitchell, it was obvious the ride was doomed. Storms were popping up all over Lawrence and surrounding counties. They weren't moving, they were just getting bigger, spreading out. No chance to wait out the storms - daylight is shorter every day. The only choice was to go ahead and have some Wendy's. So John T., Rand, Scott, and I did just that.
Rand made a new friend. The old lady clearly wanted the seat in which Rand was sitting, and her constant banging her walker against the chair did nothing to dislodge him. She tried standing there looking pitiful, lost, and helpless, but heartless Rand just turned his back. Actually, he wasn't trying to be mean. I was getting a kick out of the whole thing when the first whiff of her perfume wafted its way to me. It was enough to make my eyes water. I really don't know how he kept that seat. At the range he was getting it that force field was set to "stun".
We finished the evening with a walk on the track for the Cancer whatever it was. I don't know precisely what it was all about as I only found out about it today. That said, Rand and I walked almost 2 miles with Jimmy and Scott, and were later joined by Leisa. John T. hung around long enough to collect his choice Colts tickets which were pried from the lovely hands of Jimmy's daughter Haley. If you thought Rand was heartless...
Lord of the Segments, Pt. 2
Normdalph the Grey was a beloved frequent visitor whose time stretched far beyond the memory of the eldest Bedfordtonian, who often lived more than 150 years. In truth, Normdalph was far more ancient than was realized. He was from another time, the first age of the world, a time of great conflict. Normdalph the Grey possessed the knowledge and wisdom collected over an eon of serving all living things and preserving the old ways. He'd been a general, a politician, a doctor, many other pursuits far too numerous to recount, but to the simple Bedfortonians he was now only a wizard.
Normdalph could often be seen approaching Bedfordton on the narrow, dusty dirt roads that spiraled mindlessly out of town. His gait was peculiar, not quite a run, not quite a walk, and his head lolled to one side. It was often said Normdalph's eyes were rolled up in his head, and he would be uttering gibberish words from some lost language. Anyone else behaving in such a fashion would have been renounced, but the youth of Bedfordton flocked to Normdalph on sight, marveling at his uniform, his wisdom, but most of all his humor. He was everything respectable folk should avoid, yet he was utterly irresistible.
The uniform... it was slate-grey, wide in the shoulders, which carried braided chords of gold. Around the shoulders was a short cape of similar grey, large enough to almost wrap around his chest, but only long enough to reach his waist. Its high collar sported brass buttons of intricate design. The coat opened down the front and had two rows of similar brass buttons, as did the sleeves. Numerous medalions littered his breast, the meaning of which had long ago been lost. The coat was split in the back, and partially covered the pants, which were also slate-grey and cut in a straight-leg fashion. Polished black leather riding boots completed the clothing, but the uniform was not complete without the long, elven-hewn saber clasped in the sheath ever at his side. It was said the blade of the saber would glow an unearthly blue when Dorcs were about.
No comments:
Post a Comment