Pants » road runnin’

Take a load off

admin — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 00:21:39 +0000

On the way back from the beach today, I had a scare when my guitar flew out of the back of the truck into the road (WARNING: a trash bag will protect your guitar case from the rain but will also create a nifty mainsail which will cause it to take flight at highway speeds). I heard a sickening THUNK and looked back to see a huge dump truck coming up on it just as we went over a hill out of sight. It took about 6 minutes to turn around and get back there, but miraculously no one hit it. I finally dared to open the case when we got home, but it seems to have lost nothing but a sense of tune.

I spent some time playing this evening and am learning The Weight. The only hard thing about that song is the lyrics, which are numerous and trippy. I’m actually glad to have finally looked them up, because I’ve always just muttered something like “takethelowoffehhhy” and had no idea what the words were.

Off to the grocery store with my ragged fingertips, since we’ve nowt in th’ hoose…

Current events, clips

admin — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 16:57:48 +0000

1. Rice Bowl! Myanmar decides to overlook their law forbidding more than 5 people to gather in one place in order to support their first professional soccer league. While organized teams once had names like “Central Supply and Transport Depot” and “Forestry,” the new league teams now have proper club titles ending with “United.” The Man of the Match wins $500. WSJ piece and vid here.

2. Speaking of Myanmar, it has a new capital city, Naypyitaw, under which North Korea is building secret tunnels to smuggle leftover SCUD missiles. No worries, the Pentagon is “just watching.”

3. God save us from crazy Romanian truckers.

4. Let’s finish with a healthy workout.

Tango Knickers

admin — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 03:29:13 +0000

Cape May is full of delicious little Victorian houses, but this one reminds me of nothing so much as a pair of lacy panties.

Following a brief nap on my office floor…

admin — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 20:13:20 +0000

It’s a Monday after a long trip south, so naturally I’m sleeepypants. I began my day with a stroke of good luck:

In my haste to clear off the train this morning, I managed to drop my hat somewhere in the aisle/on the seat. Having realized this as soon as I got up to the main waiting area, I rushed back down the stairs to see if I could find it. The train was empty and the doors were shut. I ran down the platform until I saw a conductor inside, getting ready for the next trip. He was holding my hat! I knocked on the window, pointed to the hat, myself, my head, and all was well.

Another small happiness was that I wore my wind-blocking beast coat, long johns, fleece boots, and a scarf around my head and was able to laugh at the icy wind which blew me bent. No one undressed me with their eyes, but neither did the wind penetrate my layers.

The universe has balanced all of this good fortune by killing our car. P arrived at work this morning with all alarms and dashboard lights going off and opened the hood to find it had vomited oil all over itself. Off it gets towed to Erik, Miracle Mechanic of München (well, he seems vaguely Germanic), who shall restore it to its former state of grudging mobility.

In other news, cheers to Assers, who begins her first day of corporate gruntiness today. May she find good coffee and cooperative office machinery.

Jolly for trolley

admin — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 02:59:28 +0000

Well, kids, I’ve finally learned to identify the smell of pot. You know how there are so many Starbucks that you can smell pockets of coffee aroma on every city block? Same thing with pot here, but it’s about two pockets per block. I suppose San Francisco is the perfect classroom for this, but to be honest, that’s the only stereotype expectation that’s been met. Frankly, my tourism hopes have not been met here; five days and nary a homosexual or hippie in sight.

It may have something to do with the MacWorld gang of hipsters, nerds, programmers clustered here in Union Square, but we have been making an effort to tramp through other neighborhoods and the closest we’ve come is a tomboyish girl with short hair and a few women with long hair and drapey scarves.

If I don’t see some flames tomorrow in Haight-Ashbury, I want my money back.