Mont Fred

Moveitfred did a few hill repeats up the stunning Mont Fred today. He didn't feel as bad as he thought he would.

Screenplay Content

Moveitfred finished the first draft of a new screenplay this week. The title alludes to killing the protagonist, but the protagonist remains unscathed and not much killing takes place in the script. There are lots of space aliens in the story, however, and they tend to be an inscrutable lot.

Moveitfred was contacted this morning by an important movie person who wants to interview him in an online format regarding his experiences related to screenwriting. Moveitfred is cool with that, although Moveitfred worries he'll come across as an ass.

In other news Moveitfred likes this picture, so he's going to post it again.

Pretty freakin' hot for June 'round these parts.

Moveitfred plans to drop his sun off at camp and then cook out on the bike for about an hour. Moveitfred figures waiting until the peak heat of the day will strip additional waste from his physique, giving him that ripped appearance the chicks dig.

History, in short

A host of discerning individuals has been clamoring over/touching Moveitfred and yelling, "Where have you been for all these years?"

Moveitfred feels your pain. He has been away for what feels like years. Doing what, you axe? Living the Life of Enlightenment in this cauldron of feces we call our home planet. Yes, he still rides his bike, he drinks coffee, he walks to the library. Sometimes he engages in meaningful exchanges with his Bicoastal Boy brethren, but mostly not. He writes perhaps the greatest screenplays about important topics that have yet to be acknowledged and produced. In short, doing what he can considering the circumstances.

Right now it's hot. Moisture builds in his groin, and he feels itchy.

Moveitfred will ride his bike.

The alarm that signals fire in the house keeps ringing and ringing and ringing....

Moveitfred can't sleep. It's 4am. Moveitfred can't sleep.

This all started after the Rock Lobster came into the house about 8 hours ago.

Moveitfred believes this new bike has otherworldly powers that have disrupted the oblique strands of pastoral he has worked so hard to cultivate here at La Casa de Fred.

Moveitfred is both disturbed and awed by this phenomenon. He will not rest tonight.

Return

Moveitfred has been granted a release for mildly appropriate behavior. He returns with a Gloucester pic from the sunny day.

What is the sound of two hands clapping?

Moveitfred is planning a trip to Belgium in 2010 to research cyclocross. And he's about as serious as he can be about that.

Salut

To blogger cyclist friends:

Train smart, ride hard, be well. Hope to see you down the road. I won't be posting a darn thing here for the foreseeable future. I'm just going to keep this blog sitting for as long as blogger allows as a place for links and such. Some new writing projects are tugging every day, and clearly (in my mind, anyway) it's time to cut loose the things I cannot keep up with anymore.

Fun stuff, Moveitfred

Crack Arrived

Rainy pisser of a day. I hope to be especially productive over the next few hours by eating air-popped corn and drinking two press pots of Oren's. Doing what I can to stimulate the economy.

Coffee and bikes

Good looking East Village city bike, no? Discovered some killer coffee down the street at the Roasting Plant. To stand out in the crowd they've developed an automated, theme-park ride system for making the joe. You order up, worker pushes a button, and freshly roasted beans are sucked up through tubes over your head and into machines that grind and brew. It's all very clinical and not at all warm and baristamente, but it's a memorable cup of joe.

Stopped by Oren's to get some of their fresh beans, but they closed up shop early for inventory. Damn. So ordered online and am pacing the house waiting for the delivery.

It's important shit like this keeps me busy while waiting to go back to work. Put in 90 minutes on the mountain bike yesterday and just finished 60 minutes of brisk hiking through the sand at the shoreline with the dog. So far, a stellar beginning to 09.

Now, gotta hammer out some script pages until the kids come home.

Yeah, kinda cold

Did the 60 minute tour of town with son. Slush/sandy roads. Some fun stuff to plow through. Not really that cold, but I can't seem to get the gloves dialed in. Fingers are soooooo freaking boney and long that they jab into the ends of the gloves, compress the insulation, and quickly go numb. Just completed the painful thaw process. Now it's time for hot chocolate and settling in with the giant lego Star Wars craft. Goal: get that mutha built before bedtime.

New Powershot

Lazy good-for-nothing dog gets first test photo. Little camera feels like a postage stamp in my big, gawky mitts. Lots of tiny buttons to accidentally push.



Taking mountain bike out today in the ice and cold.

Yes, really.

Resolutions

Exercise less and drink more coffee. Generally average Krups burr grinder crapped out just before the holidays. Going to pull the trigger on this bad boy:


Opinion for the new year: those who stop or cut back on coffee consumption are weak-minded fairy boys.

"Yeah, but my doctor says..."

So tired of this whiny crap.

Snowing like a mutha outside, and moments ago a big lightning flash nearly blinded me. Strange biblical shit, for sure.

More resolutions:

• Eat more processed food.
• Show more contempt for others.
• Put on 20 lbs by March 1.
• Cut out flossing altogether.

See you maybe once in awhile in 2009.

Southampton 08

Simply put, effin stark and cold.

And that's about the size of it.

Gloucester

Here are a few of the better shots from Gloucester Cross 2008.

Good weekend for Brooke Shields to wash up on the beach, or something like that.

Elite men cranking up the hill at the start of day 1.

A taste of the mayhem at the barriers.

Trebon ran away from the elite field both days. Just his kind of course, for sure.

Son happily rocking the barriers at the end of day 1.

Kids digging deep for glory at the day 2 race.

Women up and over the start/finish hill on day 2 and flying into the hardpack.

Run-up of pain added for day 2.

Good to see lots of old and new friends. Weather was very uncrosslike, but great for spectating with the family. All involved at Gloucester do a fantastic job with the race.

Sacred Fishing Grounds

Kids and I are off right now for the holidays. As we are far from practitioners of the Jewish faith this is simply two unencumbered days off, as it were.

Yesterday we explored the Sacred Fishing Grounds down the street from our house. The tide was high, the eelgrass was browning, and the creatures were plentiful. We managed the hat trick of capturing numerous small blues, some short stripers, and two fat porgies. All were released as per the pre-established tenets of sportspersonship.

On to cycling news:_____________ .

Wait, I can report that I am regularly and joyfully cyclo-commuting to work. The entire process is much more ingrained in my daily rituals now, and on my best weeks I've cut down my driving to two days. What has been especially cool in this suburban wasteland is taking the left turn on the way home from work and hitting the singletrack in the newly official mountain bike trail near my house. Some killer sand-to-the-bottom bracket fireroads make for a challenge as well.

On Monday I discovered a new patch of tempting woods adjacent to work. My Russian satellite contacts report a series of trails in there. Just need to make sure humans are not being skinned and sacrificed within its dark bowels.

And, uh, cyclocross?

Do you ever?

Wonder about neighbors who post ridiculous signs out by the road? We got these people, see, a few houses down who, in what must be tremendous urges of over-protectiveness, outrage, and guilt, feel the need to flood the roadside with "Slow Children At Play" warning signs. They got the stand-up plastic A-frame versions of these signs, the plastic-coated stick-in-the-ground versions. Big, yellow signs everywhere.

Now, there's a tremendous weight of irony that I'll let you in on. These kids don't "play." At all. It's not one of those "oh, they could be out more often, like the good old days" observations either. These kids are NEVER outside playing down by the road or otherwise.

And, yep, they look like this:

Bet you anything, too, that if we lined 'em up and fired off a starting pistol they'd, yes indeed, be slow children.

In other news, thanks to the wonder-knowledge of Solo and CTodd I'm gaining confidence with my mac right-click habits. Also, G-Willier hooked me up with a stellar full-finger glove rec for my oversized mitts. Ah, the wonders of the blogosphere. Thanks Hombres.

Got in a spectacular solo ride today on the cross rig. Managed to mix in plenty of terrain, discovered that my fav cross field over yonder in town had been mowed down of its summer neck-high weeds, and even worked on a few dismounts.

Temps are dropping and the sky is blue. I assume Venus and Mars are alright tonight too.

Right-click

I was the KING of right-click with the mouse on the old PC. But, bad news. The PC crashed and is currently awaiting repairs. What to do? Purchase a mac. This is the good news.

However, where is my right-click? This function was my lifeline to fun and frivolity. How do I grab, copy, paste with this shiny new whiteness?

One problem in this whole equation is I have no time to learn something new and I'm an idiot. OK, two problems. But somewhat related nonetheless. Need one of those Geniuses to move in for a week.

Anyway, wanna know what else? The logline for my screenplay sucks. Effing sucks right now. That about sums up life. Cycling/cross? Nope. Keeping up with regular job? Barely. Getting kids to school on time? Once in awhile. Eating well? Does two bowls of ice cream tell you anything.

Gotta nail the logline, gotta nail the logline.

Might go to Nittany Lion cross. Or might not.

Man, I need to be driven by fuel and have passion for dirt, or however that saying goes.

ps, can there be anything worse than being on Solo's list of the "not being updated much?" Jeezus, how's that for kicking a guy in the rocks?

FYI

Back in Black

I suppose it's time to post something here, a task that's getting hard to complete with any frequency (yeah, like once every month or so). 

In brief it goes like this: back from a stellar vacation in Cali where I spent way more time in the water than on a bike and that was just fine, doing some very cool and prompt work for Andrew in order to help the cause, gearing up to devote a year to writing at least two screenplays, picking up a new online teaching gig to test the waters there, and, oh, also continuing the responsibilities of family and the usual job. 

I'm feeling way behind balls right now, but the work I'm doing is a big loin rush. As the cliche goes, I'm stretching myself in some new directions that are pushing the fun and cool factors. So, to all my blogger friends out there ramping up the fitness for what's left of road or the beginning of cross, well done and hammer on. I'm looking forward to hitting a number of cross races this season, but I'll likely be in my usual position of way off the back. If there's one thing I've learned as a newbie cross racer it's that someone like me needs to devote a healthy chunk of time to training in order to see some results, and that sort of dedication just ain't fitting into the life program right now. 

(Random observation: didn't have one insect bite during a month stay in the warm, dry climate of Cali. Right now I'm itching myself to the fucking bone from what must be approaching a dozen violations of my person.)

So on the program today is an attempt to transfer my two online courses from the "test site" to the "production site" for the start of online classes next week. See my college, in its infinite wisdom, switched course management systems over the summer from what everyone in the universe uses (Blackboard) to a new startup system (D2L). As you might imagine, the transition has produced a bug or two. So I have managed to successfully move my courses from Blackboard to test D2L, and now I will attempt to reach my hand into the hat and pull the real deal out for all to see. 

Add into the mix housesitting a black lab puppy. The little fucker is cute as a button, but she divides her day into good (sleeping) and bad (chewing, pissing, crapping). 

If you have a compassionate bone in your body, wish me luck. 

Shaky City

Heading out the door bound for Land of La. Earthy rumbles will no doubt serve as good prep for dodgy, off-camber turns. Be back in a month or so....