It’s not quite how it may sound, but the title fits. I had an eye opening experience this morning… I used my WordPress
IPhone Reader to browse the “freshly pressed” category…
I follow a lot of blogs and many of the new folks that happen by, if I like how they write, I’ll follow them. Rarely, I’ll search “cycling” or “triathlon” to find new blogs… Once in a very blue moon, I’ll go completely off the reservation and check out the unfiltered “freshly pressed” topics.
Today was the day to wander off the reservation… Oh my. Now I remember why I stick with the fitties… I ran into one liberal woman who couldn’t figure out why government funded propaganda, in the form of NPR, was bad. Though I must admit, at least she was willing in her rambling post about how she actually taught her young son that Mitt Romney wanted to get rid of Big Bird, that NPR is liberal news (if you can’t admit this, or believe that it is somehow centrist, you are either a liberal, lying, deeply misguided or ignorant – NPR is the liberal equivalent, and slightly less centrist, than Fox News).
Next up was a 20-something girl who was upset that her parents made her work so hard to get through school because she wanted more out of life than hard work… Now this one I actually understood. She’s young and naïve. She’ll outgrow that – hopefully.
I gave up after that… I can tell you, this actually did me some good. With the political silly season ramping up, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to refrain from writing about it – but with us fitties, most of the politics stays on the shelf, and politics tends to ruin fun – quickly. I can see why it’s best to leave the politics up to the talking heads. Lastly, I had an “I’m my dad” moment reading about the slacker 20-something girl who wants a glamorous job with Fortune 500 pay, McDonald’s responsibilities, and a part time schedule… Good luck with that honey. The funny thing is that I literally thought, “and this is the future of the country”? I laughed out loud. Of course it isn’t… My dad said the same thing about my generation while lamenting my slacker attitude, and I turned out ok.
In my post on chicks on bikes, in the comments section, Jimmy Taylor pointed out that Lance Armstrong himself broke the most obvious of cycling rules for men…
He wore a banana hammock in a Triathlon.
Good God man, you know better. If you need any further evidence of how goofy this looks, I give you one of the fittest men on earth as far as endurance athletes go, and he looks terrible. This is one rule that cannot be broken… This is beyond a no-brainer. It’s more difficult to pull off than the famed backwards helmet
I took my father out to dinner this evening. This is the man who taught me about life, prepared me as best he could to be a man, taught me to play ball, took my brothers and I on fishing vacations, taught us how to play pool, bought us a swimming pool and worked hard to make certain we never wanted for anything.
As I was feeding him, doling out one scoop of Wendy’s frosty after another, one of his favorites, I couldn’t help but think about how much Alzheimer’s sucks it. I’m not the crying type but I was choking the tears back is I scooped out his next bite and he took the cup and tried to put the non-business end of the spoon in his mouth, attempting to use it as if it were a straw.
The only full sentence he knows anymore is one I gave him two years ago… Four words: I’m still here, baby.
I’m not one for mushy, touchy posts, but with the wife up north on a retreat, I’ve got no outlet.
All I can say is whiskey-tango-foxtrot. Seeing him like that sucks.
If it’s possible to outride that disease, I’m going to. Fuck you Alzheimer’s.