Nothing!! I have nothing to share!!!!

I feel like the guy at the end of this clip going, "Nothing. I have nothing to sell." I actually have nothing to say here, but I'm doing it anyway. One of the ways I stopped blogging was by saying I had nothing to write about. I'm just going to start typing and see what shakes loose.

So I have a friend who got a mountain bike recently, and he started getting up early and going for a long ride before work. My thought was I would buy my own and then join him some morning. I don't know if you know this, but bicycles are one of those COVID items that are really tough to come by. I'm 6'2", so I can't buy just any old bike. What I was looking for is around a size 21" frame, but some people selling the bikes have no idea what the frame size is. I took shared bikes all the way into the city late last night to try out someone's bike, and I looked like Debo from Friday trying to ride that tiny thing. I was like the bear on the unicycle at the circus. 

This was me. Only with a lot less upper body strength. 

Then today I found one that was "vintage" but finally the size I needed. I got to the guy's house, and it appeared to be an aged 50 plus man living with his mother. The gear shifters were something I had never come across, and this is because the bike was from the late 80's or early 90's by a brand I had never heard of. It looked like an Ocean Pacific t-shirt. Ultimately I was desperate to get on those mountain bike trails, so I bought it. Him and his mom said that if I had any trouble with it to come on back. 

(The font and colors are actually a lot like this. And the internet says this shirt is from 1991, which is about when the bike is from. I'll show you the bike if it comes out of the shop and if the guy in the shop says it's worth fixing/keeping.)

A mile or two down the rode, after stopping at a stoplight, I put my foot on the pedal and heard a snap. I figured the chain had just come loose. Nope. The chain had snapped in two. I googled the nearest bike shop and walked it quite a ways only to find the guy who works there outside talking to two different customers, saying they would have to leave their bikes and he would likely get to them early next week. What could I do? I wasn't going to walk it to another shop miles from there. I know the dude and his mom said to bring it by if I had issues, but that's crazy. If they sold me a lemon, well, they got me. 

Not only that but during the brief time that the bike was working I stopped to buy a new $60 lock for it only to find out that Mrs. Noisewater had a spare one at home that she said I could use. 

Being out in the heat all day with stuff going wrong had me frustrated and tired, but making homemade pizzas with the family and pouring a tall vodka and ginger ale certainly helped. 

How you doing, Seven Readers? Have you been trying to get something for yourself during quarantine? 

Our family camping trip last weekend was a lot of fun. It's the second time we have gone to this place. We like it because it's well maintained, quiet, and you can walk to the beach. Aside from the mosquitoes biting us at the campsite and the horse flies biting us at the beach, I would say everything went without a hitch. 

Erik always wants to stay up late enough to see all the stars. He always makes it late enough to see about half of them, and then a mere minutes after he falls asleep there are double. He did his darndest this time with a bunch of glow items to play with, but eventually he said, "I'm so tired. I'm sorry I couldn't stay up late enough." I reassured him that I was proud of him for listening to his body, and he was under no obligation to stay up any later than he wanted or needed to. He's an awesome kid.

The other day I played a bunch of tennis for probably the first time in at least 15 years. I met up with a couple of friends that I was playing online team trivia with. One guy I know pretty well, but for the other guy it was the first time I met him in person. He is really cool and gave me two really good tips that I'm going to use.

1. He had tires on his bike that don't require any air in them. To me it would be worth it to put those on to never have to worry about a flat or puncture, and to never have to go through the time of checking the PSI and pumping up before a ride. 

2. He also shared with me that he is coming up on one year sober. He said that he has had trouble supplementing one addiction for another, and his nicotine consumption went way up, sometimes in the form of Snus nicotine pouches. So, he found tea bags that you put under your lip, and the only drug in there is caffeine. I must admit that I throw a snus in from time to time, and I know it's a horrible habit. I'll be at a baseball game, for instance, and then decide at a certain inning that I'll just snus up for the remainder of the game to cut off the booze intake. But that strategy would turn out to be a terrible one if I ended up getting mouth, throat, or any other kind of cancer as a result. So, I ordered up a four pack of tea packets to try out. 

The tennis itself was mostly pretty terrible, but we had some pretty solid volleys from time-to-time, had a lot of fun, and got some good outdoor exercise. The courts have some cracks and weeds growing out of the ground, but courts few people know about that are right on the lake with this view are an amazing find.

What is really funny is how there are apartment buildings just beyond the fence on the other side, so if you accidentally launch a homerun (something you don't want) over the fence, you can land your ball right on someone's balcony or porch. Those folks probably never have to buy their own tennis balls. 

Tomorrow night I'll be heading out for a "guy's night" over by Choo Choo Train's place. It will be the first time all of us guys have been in the same place together since the Covid hit. I have Desi's first birthday party the next morning, so I plan on implementing the tea pouch technique at a certain hour so that I'm not a hungover sack of doo-doo at my own kid's party. 

Fare thee well, Seven Readers. 

Electronic Bikes Give Dr. Ken The Need For Speed

 

Chicago introduced "E Bikes" (Electronic Bikes) into their shared bike system. The regular shared bikes are blue, and there are black electronic ones scattered through out the city. There aren't many of them, but you can search on the app to find where one is nearby. So when I had to go get my car from the shop I found one quite a ways up the road but still on the way to the mechanic. So, I took a regular bike to the other station with the E Bike. And holy crap is it ever fast! I got the need for speed now. I have actually never driven a motorcycle, scooter, vespa or anything, but I think I love this thing. What is cool is that you actually do have to pedal it to make it go faster. But I think I'm bringing a helmet next time because I was getting a little carried away. 

Anyone else drinking entirely too much during this Covid stuff? I have bought a couple of handles of Tito's vodka in the last couple of months. I used to keep vodka in the house kind of like my parents kept vodka in the house. They would have it on hand for their one friend who came over to play bridge every few months and for the two bloody Mary's per year that my mom would take down. That was me. Old Tito Santana would last me like a year. Now I've crushed a couple handles! And that's not all I drink. There's beer, whiskey, and wine too. Don't get me wrong here; I'm not wasted all the time. But a few every night starts adding up, and I'm not the only guy getting after it because my building's recycle bin always looks like the morning after a frat party.

It's just that there's nothing stopping me from having a few libations just about every night. But I can't be doing that when the world goes back to normal.

Take tonight for instance. I was watching a bootleg Kodi version of the new Pete Davidson movie and was hit with the slightest pinge of sadness. Instead of thinking about what it is that was really on my mind I just poured a tall glass of some brown liquid and no ice. That never sounded that great to me before on a Wednesday, and now I'm loving how it makes my belly burn.

Other than an increase in the hitting of the sauce everything is pretty much okay. Mrs. Noisewater and I have been able to work from home, and our daycare let us send the kids back. Thank God! You know how hard it was with both of us trying to work from home with the two kids all day. In the morning the two of us would go over our schedules and it would be like:

Me: What you got today? I got a 9AM and a 12PM.
Mrs. Noisewater: 9AM and 12PM.for me too! Damn!
Me: Okay, no problem, I guess. We can put Erik on the iPad and Desi can . . . just chew on my laptop wire. I usually don't let him do that, but we got to get through these meetings.

Tomorrow Mrs. Noisewater and I are going to treat ourselves to a happy hour with our bikes and the bike trailer and then pick up the kids afterwards. It will be the first time the two of us have been alone and out somewhere since this thing started, and I'm pretty excited about it. We found a bar with a patio near the daycare. Don't worry, I won't be tanked. Just a couple drinks outside with the wife, trying to feel like normal happy people in Chicago at the start of the summer, how we are supposed to be feeling under normal circumstances.

How is everyone else doing? I'm sorry I've been such a crummy blogger. I'll try to be better. For real, tell me how you're all doing if you catch this post. Hope you and your families are well. 

Anyone ever hear "'Da Butt" by E.U.?  I heard it on my bike ride home from work today and started laughing my ass off at this line: "If you get that notion get your backfield in motion."

I'm going to say something right now: That is singlehandedly the best line ever about American football, booty shaking, or combinations thereof.

The minute I got home I added it to our wedding playlist.  This was a point of contention, but to compromise I'm going to give the d.j. a time to fade it out midway through the song, likely just after that backfield line . . .

First Dirty Movie Part 2: A Dangerous Encounter

This is the second of three stories in which three dudes sat around and told the stories about the first porno movie they ever saw as a kid.  In Dangerous' first time joining a Gancer podcast, he does an excellent job talking about the times he and his friends rode theirs bikes over to his neighbor Jimmy's house to watch a porno flick and the lengths they had to go to keep Jimmy's dad from figuring out.

Hope you enjoy.  Have a listen or download it by clicking the options at the top, and let us know what you think.

The songs in the background of this podcast are the "Ding Dong Song" by Gunther and "Sex Machine" by Sly and the Family Stone, and the picture below is actually the cover of the infamous movie in Mr. Dangerous' past!

the cast period

this post and a a bunch to follow will be in all lower case with minimum characters (shift buttons are not easy for me these days) and with a lot of typos because this cast on my hand is messing up my blog functioning.  it's cool though because this will be known as the 'cast period' when i'm studied in blogging courses at universities some day, or more likely in case profiling for nut-jobs. 

i think i mentioned in a previous post that this is a kickball injury.  yes, the game we played in recess as a kid.  yes, the ball is big and mushy, so there is no logical answer for how i could manage to hurt myself other than i'm a fragile wuss of a man.

knowing that i would have to get surgery on the finger monday morning, screwing up most physical activity for just about the whole summer, i decided to soak up as much beach volleyball time as possible sunday afternoon by lake michigan in chicago.  volleyball on sundays in the summertime for me is like church to people who go to that sort of thing - people with beliefs and a moral compass.  volleyball is one of the first things i think about when i think of chicago summers, and my whole week is out of whack if i don't get out there.  that being said, i was geeked to get onto the beach, and only an hour or so in, a giant storm comes out of nowhere.  it got suddenly dark with insane winds, all the seagulls were getting the f' out of there in a hurry, and a voice comes over the p.a. telling us to do the same.

oats and i sought refuge by his place for a while and put on the cubs home game to watch for when they pulled the tarp to play ball as a means of gauging when the storm was going to blow over, which it eventually did in a couple of hours.  so i'm hauling balls on my bike back to the beach on the lakeshore drive bike path, and when i'm almost to our courts, this middle aged man i'm about to pass suddenly decides that he needs to do a u-turn right into oncoming traffic without looking.  i actually reasoned in my head that i had zero time to avoid this and just braced for impact, t-boning him, knocking us both off our bikes.  he kept asking if i was okay, and i told him i was - but only to get away from him without swearing at him.  then he asked if my bike was all right, and i saw the chain hanging off and the front tire knocked flat.  still, i said i was fine and locked the thing up to get a few games in before fixing it at the boathouse up the road.

because the back tire still had air, i just flipped it upright and literally ran to the bike shop barefoot.  on my way i heard a squak and felt a shot to the back of my head and immediately knew it was that asshole bird who dive-bombs the back of people's heads.  i wrote a post about him years ago, but i'm too lazy to provide you with a link.  the point is that this was just not a good day for me.  then the bike guy tells me that the wheel is all screwed up and it cost me around 70 bucks.  guess i should have taken the idiot who hit me straight to the shop instead of jumping right into a few rounds of v-ball, but i was sort of in shock and very pissed.

when i got into the shower that night i found some very gnarly bruises and then found a few more scrubbing up before surgery this morning.  i had to tell the doctors where all t he damage was so no one could think or claim that  some whacky stuff went down during the operation. 

this stupid injury is very annoying to me because i'm an extremely active person, and there are very few types of exercise i can do.  also, at my summer job i need to handle things quickly and efficiently (like dealing with each customer for around 12 seconds), which i love, but it's going to be a pisser with this thing on me.  however, the way i see it, there are people in the world with afflictions far worse than this, and many of them had much more critical surgeries down the hall from me this very morning.  as for work, i remember a girl i worked with years ago doing the same job with very little use of one hand, and that was permanent.

it has just been a bad couple of days so i wanted to get it down onto the page, even if i have it more in perspective now.  thanks for listening if you have made it this far into this whopper-long post.  and here's a pic of edward .44 magnum hand, and yeah, i have eyes.  that's just my trademark here at the the gancer:

have gun, will travel - and write corny captions.

the bike lock story

I was biking home from the gym today, holding my bike lock in my had, when I saw what I thought might be some sort of domestic dispute between a young couple.  As it turns out, they were just play fighting but for a moment there I thought I might have had to go upside this dude's head with a u-lock. 

Here is the little scene in my stupid head that I wrote in that fleeting moment:

Dr. Ken: Hey, buddy.  Why don't you leave the little lady alone
(little lady is kind of demeaning and sexist, but that's just how old fashioned chivalrous types talk)

Man: Just stay out of this, Lance Armstrong.  This doesn't concern you.  Or your one nut.

Dr. Ken: It certainly doesn't involve Lance's testicle, so yeah, we'll leave that out, but it does concern me now because there is no way I'm leaving without . . . doing something.  Are you okay, miss?

Woman: No.  I'm not.  He's an asshole and he's drunk and mean. 

Man: You shut your stupid mouth, woman!  And let me and Armstrong finish our conversation.
(This is kind of how stereotypical wife beating types talk, I think)

Dr. Ken: Listen, why don't we just put you two in a cab and call it a night.

Man: Sure.  We could do that.  Or I could whip the ever-loving tar out of your stupid hipster ass.

the man begins to roll up his sleeves and walk towards Dr. Ken in a threatening manner

Dr. Ken: (stepping off his bike and wielding his bike lock) Think this through.  I don't want to clock you with this bike lock, and you don't want to get hit with one. 

------------------------------------------------------------

The truth of the matter is that I would probably just pull around the corner and call the police.  If I did opt for the U-Lock beating, I would likely miss with a piss-poor flailing attempt and get beat up.  Probably the girl would even get a few licks in, and they would resolve their differences by agreeing that I'm a giant pussy.

Tales from the Rickshaw #2

Just after dropping off my last fare* of the night, the chain fell off my rickshaw, and I couldn't get it fixed. I was trying everything, and as far as I could tell, it looked like it should have been working. After a while, a guy with a twelver of High Life under one arm and an Asian girlfriend under the other stops to ask me if I could use some help. He decided that we needed to flip it over to get a look at the chain hooking up to the back two wheels. Oh yeah. Didn't think of that . . .

The guy even went into the supermarket to get us a pair of wet naps to clean the oil off our hands. I told him if he took down my number, I'd give him and Asian girlfriend a free ride any time. I couldn't think of anything else to do for him. He didn't seem like he could benefit from my other job, as he didn't present as a guy who needed counseling.

He turned me down on the free ride, but he said that for doing that he expected some good karma to come his way, and I hope it does. Now I feel like I need to do something randomly extraordinarily nice for someone. Any ideas, Seven Readers?
----------------
*The guy from my last fare of the night looked just like Patrick Dempsey. I told him this, and his Asian girlfriend (two nice guys with Asian GF's in 10 minutes time!) said that he gets that daily. We discussed Loveryboy, the one where Dempsey plays the pizza delivering gigalo who nailed housewives when they called asking for extra, extra anchovies. His girlfriend was very attractive, but to be honest, looking that much like McDreamy, he could probably take a new girl home every night.

Pedaling His Way Through a Second Puberty

Floyd Landis*, Tour de France winner, has been accused of taking performance-enhancing drugs. “In his first public appearance since a urine test showing a testosterone imbalance cast his title into doubt, the American said his body's natural metabolism -- not doping of any kind -- caused the result, and that he would soon have the test results to prove it.”

In other words, “I have an ‘abnormally high testosterone ratio’ because I have a steady stream of testosterone pumping through me at all times. I’m ALL MAN! I had chest hair when I was four, my balls dropped when I was 5, and I banged my kindergarten teacher in between snack time and nap time when I was 6!”

This got me thinking about tests for abnormally high levels of estrogen in men. Shouldn’t someone test Chris Carrabba from Dashboard Confessional? I think that Mr. Carrabba has been doping with estrogen for years to churn out puss rock of the worst order, and someone needs to ween him off of the stuff, fast.

I also started thinking about what my “doping” might be in terms of bike riding. Sure, the threat of being late for work gets the pedals moving, but I really think my ipod is the ace up my sleeve. I think if Lance Armstrong and I were racing along Lakeshore drive, myself with Feel Good Hit of the Summer by Queens of the Stone Age bumping and him with anything by Sheryl Crow polluting his ears, I do believe I’d blow by him quicker than he dumped his wife and started dating an aging rock star, despite the fact that his ex stuck with him through nut cancer, and left a good job to help him start his nut cancer foundation.**

*Jesus, look at his face! If a man embodies an overly productive, fully functional testosterone factory it is this guy.
**Perhaps I was a little hard on Lance, and my fact-finding may have been suspect, but I had to get a good analogy for the speed at which I’d kick his ass, given a good series of ipod songs.