Puddletrack

Tags

fun, life, personal

Too bad my fat bike doesn’t float.  The tires are large, but they are not buoyant.  Here in northern Illinois, we are having one of the wettest Spring seasons on record.  For off road bicyclists such as myself, that can be frustrating.  It’s not good for most people.  The trails closest to me are next to a river, are built on and in between berms that are swampy even during the dry seasons.  For more than a month, they have not been rideable.

Some people don’t care, judging from the damage to the trails.  This picture was taken a few days ago.  It’s obvious that there are quite a few people who just rode through it.  The section pictured is a the bottom of the trail head connector.  I am surprised that it wasn’t blocked.  When I rode last night, it was still a quagmire though no longer covered with water.  I turned around and entered the trail from another connector.  Riding mud is not fun, plus it screws with a bike.

We had a few days without much rain.  Most of the trails were in great shape last night, although I still had to be careful, had to avoid some trails.  Last Sunday afternoon, I rode another trail system in the Chicago area with some friends.  They were scary difficult, rocky with steep and twisty descents/climbs.  My new bike, a carbon Salsa Deadwood SLX with 29+ wheels (2.6 tires, for now) helped give me the confidence to at least attempt everything.  Three hours of riding and I was satisfied, not as tired as I could have been.  Even though off road cycling has not been a viable option for the past month, I have been riding.

My fat tired bike has proved to be an entertaining riding option.  Pretty much out my front door are forest preserves and rails-to-trails paths, so I have been riding 4-5 days a week on those trails.  There is an old landfill a few minutes away, now a recreational area, that has added an option for climbing.  There is more resistance to riding paths, especially on a fat tired bike, so I feel stronger now than ever.  I ain’t no stud, but I ain’t no slouch either.  Of course, my roadie friends have helped me a little.  We have ventured out on the path the past two Wednesdays, rode to a little craft brewery to participate in their trivia night (third place the first time we trivia’d), then trekked home with lights.  It’s tremendous fun!

When it rains on my cycling parade, I make my own parade, I guess.

Another gully washer this afternoon.  Rats.

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I Get to Look at Tall Buildings

Tags

fun, lessons learned, neighbors, personal, relationships

…and I looked at them in a single bound.

*insert rim shot*

Chicago can be a cool and interesting place, even to a small town bumpkin such as yours truly.  Generally, even though I live within spitting distance of the city, a western suburbanite who prefers the peaceful serenity of the burbs,  I turn up my nose at the city, pooh pooh the noise and grime and crowds and intrusiveness that comes with urban life.  Until I get a chance to embrace city life, experience it vicariously through friends or an unique adventure, I bad mouth city life in the spirit of true ignorance.  Saturday was a day where I was treated to an adventure that showed me the city in a unique light.  Even though I will never want to live there, I can appreciate Chicago a bit more.

A friend invited me to join her for a trip into the city to take an architecture tour of Chicago via boat.  She lured me by offering to pay for the day, a treat for my birthday.  I’m old and cheap, so it’s easy to tempt me with cheap inexpensive entertainment.  Besides, the Chicago architecture boat tour has always been intriguing to me, so no real temptation was necessary, no pied piper.  We took the train into Ogilvie station early in the morning, the trip not only fun because it’s not something I do every day, but it was unique in another way — for some reason the porter passed by us the entire trip.  It was if we were invisible.  We exited the train at Ogilvie, puzzled by the strange behavior of the porter, thankful to have saved $20 on the train trip.  As it turned out, we had to buy tickets at the station for the trip home — $14.87, so our transportation was $5 less than planned.

Planning comes natural to Lisa, a certification administrator for a hospital network.  She also is a Groupon junkie, thus the cheap inexpensive boat tour.  It was a deal.  The walk to the boat was a fairly long trek from Ogilvie station, but Lisa knew how long it would take us to get there.   Along the way, we would use a gift card to purchase coffee and breakfast, at an Einstein bagel restaurant on the route to the boat dock, a restaurant that Lisa had located prior to our trip together.  As I found out during the course of the day, it was a much better experience to go to the city with someone who knows the city and has a plan.

Viewing Chicago from the river and Lake Michigan lends a whole new perspective to the city.  It looks more wide open, for one thing, an opportunity to view the intimidating behemoths towering straight above from a much less restrictive view.  I was able to see the characteristics of each part of the city, witness the inhabitants enjoying the city in a different way.  The boat took a route that entered the river from the river side of the lock at Navy pier, east of Lake Shore drive.  There are no skyscrapers save one east of Lake Shore drive, something that Montgomery Ward lobbied for nearly 100 years ago and what adds to the beauty of the city.  So as we approached the city on the Chicago river from the east side of Lake Shore, we were able to take in the awesome approach of the expanse of the buildings from an outside vista, as if the city was a natural part of the horizon.  It belongs there.

Even the Trump tower belongs.  Built in 2009 to blend in with the curves of the river and the city around it, the tower adds an elegance to the view.  Unlike its namesake, it’s neither garish nor rude.  True to Chicago, it adds to the history, fits with the architectural era it was built to fill (post modernism).  That is what makes the architecture of Chicago so rich — its buildings tell a story, show a little what life was like in each stage of its history.  There are so many iconic buildings in Chicago — the Hancock, Willis (Sears) tower, Merchandise mart, NBC tower, River towers, Vista (will be the tallest woman designed building in the world), Monadnock,.. just to name a few.  To be able to view these buildings from a historical perspective, often with several eras side by side, adds to the pure enjoyment of the tour.

The boat cruised the main channel as we viewed the expanse that surrounded us, yet did not encroach, turned south as we learned the story of the Chicago fire that devasted that part of the city, then turned north to witness some of the history of gentrified warehouses turned upper end residential.  At the end of the tour, the boat swung out towards the lake, then back to give an excellent picture of Chicago’s skyline.

It was a treat.  I have lived close to Chicago nearly my entire life, a suburbanite the last thirty or so years.  Until now, my idea of the city was a large looming hodge podge that closed me in, that offered no true value in terms of peace or serenity.  My opinion was closed minded, I knew and know.  That’s just it — I am human, influenced by what I know, which is the open prairie with it’s flat, wide open, free space.  The city made me feel claustrophobic.  Now I see that someone who truly loves the city does not need to feel that way.

Tour over, we headed towards Navy Pier, a tourist area with a huge ferris wheel that extends out into Lake Michigan.  I was promised a special surprise, a treat.  When I saw it, my eyes became saucers — Rainbow ice cream, layers of different flavors scooped into one cone or cup.  Chocolate, pistachio, butter pecan, cherry, strawberry, and topped by orange sherbet.  It was INCREDIBLE.  We found a place inside the pier mall to enjoy our treat, walked the shops.  My other treat there was to ham it up on one of those screens with a camera that captures the viewer, places a goofy hat and mask on them.  I probably spent way too much time messing with that.

From there, we walked to the Little Italy area of Chicago.  Chicago is like many cities, with sections that reflect an ethnic flavor, one of the characteristics of the city that adds a richness.  We had reservations at an old style italian restaurant, downed fresh pasta (gnocchi for me) with plenty of garlic spread on fresh bread and a little bit of wine.  It was a terrific way to cap the day.

Instead of walking back to Ogilvie station to catch the train back to the western burbs, we summoned a Lyft driver.  After close to 22,000 steps (nearly 9 miles), we both were beat.  Our driver dropped us off at the station with ten minutes to spare before the train was scheduled to leave.  We arrived home with an evening left to share, spent outside with more wine on my balcony, waiting for the bats to fly overhead at dusk.

Yes, bats.  It’s not creepy at all.  Rather, they are fun to watch as they weave towards the river close by, going home after a day spent away.  Perhaps they are checking out the city as well?

 

Preferred Freeze

Tags

fun

I never intended to end up with vacation days left this time of year, but it happened.  It just happened.  Last week, my boss and coworker both encouraged me to take the 3.5 days I had available.  So… I did.

The thing about riding dirt and sand in a mild weather December is timing.  Yes, nice comfortable temperatures during the day are wonderful, but a dirt trail turns to wet mush as the overnight freeze begins to thaw.  What does that mean to a mountain bike rider?

It means that to get a ride in, one must get out on the trail as early in the morning as possible, preferably as soon as the sun rises enough to cast light in the woods and while the top layer of dirt is still frozen.  It’s not as treacherous riding frozen dirt and sand as it sounds.  In many ways, it’s better than riding a dry trail in the summer.  Frozen dirt is usually tacky, with extra traction.  In January, riding can be more treacherous due to ice, but December riding can be fast.

The woods on a crisp winter morning are absolutely gorgeous.  I made it to the trailhead around 7:30 yesterday morning, the only other riders in the lot three guys who I could have sworn were ZZ Top.  No lie.  Two older guys with shaggy full beards and one totally normal looking guy.  They looked like serious riders, so instead of joining them I said my good mornings as I made a few adjustments to the rear shock on my bike, then rode in on my own.  A few minutes later, I crossed paths with all three guys while riding the most technical trail in the park.  While I could have kept up, it was obvious that it would have been a more intense ride than I wanted yesterday.  I just wanted to enjoy the quiet, occasionally push things a bit, get a few hours in on the bike.

I changed up my normal routine, warmed up on the trails at the front of the park.  Those trails are more challenging, a few of the trails new with challenging transitions, built on top of and in between tall berms.  They are a hoot.  There are a few drop offs that are just that — straight down and high.  I wanted to ride those before the sun started to thaw things out.

The back end of the park has a sandy section.  There is one spot that starts high in an open and sandy area, turns sharply to the left, then swoops back into the woods.  If the left turn is taken high, I can get some decent air and kick the rear wheel out before coming down and turning back into the woods.  Usually I get my wheels just enough off of the ground to make it a tiny bit of a rush.  This time, the frozen sand made it possible to take a lot of speed into the turn.  I flew, landed perfectly and caught air again over a root.  I whooped so loud I probably scared every wild animal away for miles.  I may never make that jump like that again, but for a few seconds I felt like a stud.

 

The Ho Comes Early

Tags

fun, life, relationships

My ‘lady friend’ (term courtesy of my neighbor) is Clark Griswold’s twin sister, interior design version.  True story.  The pictures above were taken inside my condo unit last night.  The pictures don’t do the decorating justice — it’s beautiful and all done, for the most part, by my lovely and talented ‘lady friend’.  The joy on her face as she toiled and fretted over each detail was cute, something I laughed at as I told her so.  That she would enjoy the decorating was never a question in my mind.  Every weekend since September, she has had a little bag of goodies for me, Christmas decorations scoured carefully by her practiced eyes from the racks at local Goodwill stores.  It’s a talent, a gift, her ability to find a gift in the midst of the mess of stuff at that store truly amazing to me.  D has been dreaming of how those lovingly selected trinkets would fit together inside (and outside) of my condo unit for months.  When she suggested early last week that our dates this weekend would consist of dinner and decorating at my place, I had no choice but to say yes.

While I am not really ready for Christmas to start happening yet, watching her in her element was pure entertainment.  Ideas kept flooding over her as she worked, changes and tweaks implemented until the detail was just right to her.  D would stand back, palms extended outward with a pleased smile on her face, admiring her handiwork.  It was cute to watch.  Saturday night, we worked on the tree together after dinner (stuffed shells with salad, chocolate cake and Malbec for dessert).  I was merely a participant as my personal designer woman directed the festivity.

It’s a good thing that I rarely use that dining room table.  We will need to invite friends over for dinner, so the festive arrangements can be shared.  My kitchen table (not pictured) also is decorated, although I had to rein her in a little bit there — that table is my place to hang out, as well as the place where some of my cooking prep is done.  Pretty is not practical, for the most part.  Decorating also spilled out into the hallway outside my front door, where an old wooden rocking horse awaits with a red bow around its neck, as well as an old restored wood sled.  The sled was used by my brothers and I, lovingly restored by my dad.  Some time this week, a wreath will be added to the sled.  There also is a welcome sign hung on my front door, a snowman couple wishing everyone a joyful season.

Now I can sit back and enjoy my decorated condo… until we help D’s mom decorate next weekend!

(I should probably apologize for the title of today’s blog — I couldn’t resist and it has no bearing on my ‘lady friend’… unless you talk to my downstairs neighbor.  In case anyone is wondering, heels were carefully removed at my front door.)

Trolling

Tags

fun, trolls

Ever have a hankering to pay money to go look at trees and plants?  If you are like me, well, it’s great to have a nice place of peace available, but I am satisfied with what God has already provided for free.  There is an arboretum close by, about 10-15 minutes drive from my house, but until now I really could not justify the cost of going there.  I know that the Morton Arboretum is committed to excellent, so what is found there is the best.  If I though I would use a membership, I would pay the price for one.

When I saw that the Morton Arboretum had commissioned a danish artist, Thomas Danbo to make six larger than life wood trolls for display, I was intrigued.  The arboretum is bordered on one side by I-88 in Lisle, Illinois and one of his first creations was a large troll that overlooks the interstate.  Once I saw that troll, I knew that I had to pay the fee to see the trolls.  Saturday evening, D and I chose to go troll hunting at the Morton Arboretum as our date night activity.  As we found out, the troll that overlooks the interstate tollway is Joe the Guardian, an appropriate title.  Quickly, our curiosity turned to delight.  The troll hunt is a unusual delight, an addition to an already uniquely exceptional outdoor museum.

As the booklet/map explained to us, the trolls love the woods and trees there as much or more than the humans that visit there.  They decided to visit the Arboretum, concerned and even upset when the humans don’t treat the plants and trees there with respect.  Some are friendly, some are not.  Some don’t mind being found, some hide.  The map gave us the locations of each troll in the museum.  Each location had a parking area, with a trail that lead us to each troll.

We were greeted at the visitors center parking lot by a troll who obviously did not appreciate the cars.

He was our first troll encounter.  A little girl was not thrilled by her first troll encounter, shrieking and crying with fear at the scary monster.  I gave him a bit of room myself.  He was not huggable, so D and I said our hello to him and rushed away.

Our next troll encounter was with a gruff sort who preferred to hide in the woods, his big club ready to use on anyone who demonstrated bad behavior.  Like the boulder tossing brute we first encountered, the gruff troll inspired fear in a little visitor who would not get within 100 yards of him.

We found this happy go lazy troll lounging in a meadow.  I could relate a bit, my three hour bike ride that morning (the third in as many days) beginning to make me want to lounge for a while.  D discouraged my desire to take a nap with this gentle giant.  We had more trolls to find!

Some trolls were smiling, but maybe not exactly for a good reason.  This guy was definitely friendly, but his little snare gave away his true intentions.  He definitely appreciated pretty D’s hug and my offer to pick his nose.

Our last troll was a little more difficult to find and took a bit of a hike to reach.  D loved him so much that she blew him a kiss.  Trolls blush.

We drove through a peaceful woods on our way out of the Arboretum, the sun casting its last rays on Joe the Guardian troll.  D and I found a table for the little picnic I had brought along, a nice end to the perfect troll hunt.

 

Charge

Tags

fun, life, personal

This past weekend was my second Memorial day weekend as a repurposed single (once again, I am avoiding the D word), the first holiday where I felt like the shock of being repurposed has semi worn off.  I don’t think I will ever be completely used to it as long as I am single.  Truthfully, my life right now is not 100% different than it was before, but it’s obviously not the same.  Holiday weekends have always had riding as a necessary ingredient, the bike that consistent thread in my life besides the faith that holds me together.  If I don’t ride, I don’t feel satisfied and it feels like I missed something.  If I don’t go to church, have a chance to worship and refuel my soul, I sense the emptiness, my spiritual battery lacking the charge it needs.  I don’t need epic experiences to feel complete.  There has been enough epic in the past to give me awesome memories.  Really all that is required is the simple, the sublime.  That’s what long weekends are made for.

This Memorial day weekend, I rode every day but Sunday, worshipped Sunday morning with my daughter.  It was awesome.  Here I sit on Tuesday morning, recharged and actually ready for my work day.

Also a necessity for me is spending time with friends.  My first repurposed Memorial day, last year, was spent alone, a lonely time but a time where I needed to be alone.  That alone time last year was necessary as I needed to confront the deep seated emotions that came out when I was by myself.  Truthfully, at that time I didn’t want to spend time with people, so unusual for me that it was a sign that there was more going on than I cared to admit.

Last year, I rode early on Memorial day with my friend Jeremy, who invited me to spend the rest of the day at a cookout with his wife and family.  I declined respectfully, felt a little guilty for doing so because I know Jeremy wanted to help his friend out.  The day was painful but cleansing.  Last year, I learned a little more about the necessity of facing my demons, then leaning on the God I have always known is there, his presence something I have taken for granted my entire life.  I drew close, discovered that God is right there for me.

You may read that last sentence and pooh pooh me.  Go ahead.  God’s presence is something that is not easily comprehended until you have experienced it.

Sunday was a good day, started at Panera.  My daughter was back in town, so she wanted to continue our tradition of Panera before church.  Nothing is more sublime than the blessing of time with my girl, as well as worship time at church with her.  I proudly paraded her around to show her off after the service was over, glad that she is now willing to let her dad do just that, something my bashful little girl would never let me do years ago.  I was in my element, happy to be able to show so many friends the girl who is now a college grad and bravely trekking off to Turkey for her job.  After church, she excused herself to go have lunch with her mom’s family.  I went home for a quick nap before heading into the city for a party with friends, a roof top party in Wrigleyville where I was the only single man amongst a number a women.  I never had to get my own beer the entire afternoon and evening!

What is it about Chicago people and their dogs?  Nearly every person who came to the party brought their dog with them.  The host had two of her own, one a little yippy Yorkie who boldly nipped my ankle when I walked through the door.  We spent the first part of the party on the first floor deck, shielded from the hot sun on an unusually hot day, then moved up on the roof as dusk settled in.  There is something magical about the city, the view of the city skyline and Willis tower looming close, the sunset reflected.  My friend, the host of the party, is someone I have known since she was in high school and one of the students at the camp I helped staff when I was a church youth pastor.  She and a few of her friends looked me up a few years ago.  Christa proudly announced me to the party goers as her former pastor.  She’s not interested in me romantically, something I appreciate as it gives me a chance to have a female friend who I can relax around.  That helped make the party a good time.  It was also nice to be spoiled.

Friday, I rode some single track trails, came home and relaxed a bit, did some laundry and straightened my place up a little bit.  Saturday, I woke up early, rode the trails again, replaced the ignition coils and spark plugs on my VW, got my hairs cut, then went out with a friend to celebrate our birthdays together (mine is this week, hers was Friday).  We had a nice dinner, walked the flower gardens at Cantigny (it’s close to my place), came back to my place for wine and birthday cake and to exchange presents.  She bought me a four tiered plant stand that has a cool solar powered light on it, plus some pots and plants to go on the stand.  We spent the rest of our evening together potting the flowers and setting them on the stand.  I have quite the flower display on my balcony now — four 36″ cocoa fiber lined window boxes on the balcony rails, three pots of geraniums hanging in between the window boxes, two big pots of petunias and marigolds, six small pots of pansies, petunias, alyssum, and marigolds.  Now I have the four tiered plant stand.

Saturday night was another change from last year.  Last year I was separated and in the throes of the drama of a pending divorce, not able to enjoy female company.  My condo was still in transition, my life mirroring that transition.  What a difference a year makes — and it makes me wonder what nuances another year will bring to my life.

In case you are wondering, she is a special friend, someone who could end up more than a special friend, but for the time being she can only see me on Saturday nights (yes, she is single).  That makes it difficult to have anything truly committed.  That’s fine for me.  I am not ready for that commitment, although it would be nice to have someone who is available to me the rest of the week, something that was painfully obvious yesterday.  Friends invited me over for a Memorial day BBQ.  They hoped I would bring a friend with me, but she declined, saying she would see me Saturday.  It was sad for me and, although I had a nice BBQ with my two friends, I felt a little like a third wheel without a date.  That is one of the things about the repurposed life that sucks.  Even then, my Memorial day was different than last year.  Like I said, I am a social person and it felt good to spend the day with friends.

Oh, and I also got up early yesterday for another ride.  Early rides were necessary all weekend as it was unseasonably hot in the Chicago burbs.

More tidbits —

1.  On my way home Saturday night, on a county highway out in the middle of nowhere, I came up on a police SUV with its lights on, a car pulled over.  I got in the left lane to give the police car space.. and promptly ran over the deer that had just been hit and was sprawled across the lane I was in.  I was going around 55 mph, ran completely over the deer.  For some miraculous reason, my car wasn’t damaged nor was there any blood or fur on it.
2. A friend of mine called me for help yesterday afternoon.  He is a triathlete, so he had gone for a swim then a bike ride for his training.  Unfortunately, he had a flat tire and his CO2 cartridge was a dud.  I went to rescue him.  While he was pumping up the tire, I shared some information about one of his crazy exgirlfriends that I had just become privy to (privy to the information, not the girl).  It was both a funny and sad moment.  His ex looked up his ex wife and another ex girlfriend.  Now she is posting on FB with pictures of her with his ex wife and ex fiance.  I told him it’s a good thing he doesn’t have any pets….

 

A Major Award

Tags

fun, life, personal, stuff, winning stuff

You, oh person reading my blog, are looking at a weiner…er.. winner of a MAJOR AWARD!  I am a regular smart guy, because this was not just some random-pull-the-ticket-out-of-a-hat type of contest.  No, this is a prize that yours truly EARNED, my superior effort bringing me the fruit of the sweat of my brain.

You are going to be sooooooo jealous.

The package arrived at my doorstep last Saturday, carefully and wonderfully wrapped in a colorful bubble envelope.  Just to clarify, it was not FRA-GEE-LAY.  It came from New Jersey, not Italy.  With eager anticipation, I carried my booty up the stairs to my condo.  I knew what it was.  It was a major award, after all.

Jules, of Go Jules Go, a writer/blogger/chipmunk enthusiast flaxen haired wearer of faux mustaches and big glasses, chose me out of millions of entries as the winner of her birthday giveaway — a book.  I like books.  I like books with pictures.  I look books with exceptional illustration.  Heck, I like books when they are major awards.  That major award book is titled  A Day In The Life Of Marlon Bundo.

Clever.  I didn’t know anything about the book, but the chance to demonstrate my cleverness is a chance that I relish.

Jules’ rules were this —

Want to win?

All you have to do to enter is leave a comment below by NOON EST on Saturday, April 28th explaining what the world’s best birthday would look like to you. Points awarded for humor, creativity and ability to compliment me mentioning chipmunks.

I knew I could nail this one.

I am soooooo freaking clever.

Jules spewed.  I like making women spew.

And thus, I became a weiner.

Jules is a spectacular wrapper (not by Chance).  She included a very cool card, mustaches and all.  ‘Tis cool.

Jules indeed is a chipmunk aficionado.

There were no nasty surprises.  No white powder.  No nude pictures of Donald Trump.

I am honored.  I would like to thank all the little people inside my head who made this possible.

 

 

Perfectly Potter

Tags

family, fun, life, personal

And here we see two very happy, possibly giddy, definitely satisfied Harry Potter nerds.  That is Hogwarts in the background, the detail so incredible, as was all of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios, Orlando.  To say that the place is magical is redundant, I suppose, since the place is all about magic, but it really is just that.  Alyssa and I went there hoping that the place would live up to the hype.  We were not disappointed.

Last Saturday morning we practically floated through the gates at Universal, ready to start the journey that we had anticipated for months.  I promised my little girl that I would treat her with a trip there as her college graduation present, praying with a bit of trepidation that I would be able to live up to the promise.  Things, literally THINGS, tried to stop me from keeping my promise — car repairs, broken teeth, car accidents.  None stopped us.  My car decided to break down last Thursday night, when I was packed and ready to drive the 3 hours to pick Alyssa up at college for our flight out of Indianapolis.  I had to scramble for a rental car, pray that I would trust God to take care of things, and forget about what that repair would cost while I was with my daughter (I succeeded).  On the way to pick up her last Friday, I witnessed a head on collision, a car turned into the path of an oncoming car.  That oncoming car crashed through the other car, spun around it and skidded to a backwards stop about ten feet from the rented car that I was driving. 

An hour later, after waiting for the accident to be cleared, I met my daughter.  We made it with time to spare for our flight.

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios, Orlando, is split into two separate parts of the park.  One section is Diagon Alley, with Kings Crossing station next to it, where visitors can take the Hogwarts Express train to Hogsmeade.  The entrance to Diagon Alley is hidden, so much that we walked past it and had to ask a park attendant how to find it.  In front of the entrance is the Knight bus, where we had stopped so Alyssa could take a picture with its conductor (Stan Shunpike).

Once we found the entrance, we were overtaken with awe.  We felt like we had just walked into the book, the shops as well as Gringotts bank, complete with fire breathing dragon on top, so finely done that we were delighted.  Immediately necessary was a trip to Ollivander’s wand shop, where we witnessed the wand selection ceremony, then entered the shop to select a wand for Alyssa.

She wanted a wand with the hope to use it to direct her future high school band while they play the Harry Potter theme.

Alyssa chose Luna Lovegood’s wand, a fine choice.  Leaving the shop with wand in hand, we looked for the symbols placed around Diagon Alley that marked where the wand could be used to create magic.

We met plenty of characters.  Alyssa’s favorite is Hagrid, so she was ecstatic that our timing was perfect for her to meet him and pose in the sidecar of his motorcycle.

We also met Severus Snape. I have say that the guy was almost a dead ringer for Alan Rickman.  It’s one of my favorite pictures from the two days we were there.

Yes, my ginger daughter wore a tee shirt that said “MUST BE A WEASLEY”.  Hahahahaha.

We had butter beer.. twice.  It was a necessity.  Sweet.  Worth the money, as was the whole experience.  The Gringotts ride, a 4D reality ride, was fantastic.  Since I bought the Universal Express Unlimited pass, we were able to ride anything as much as we wanted.  Rarely did we wait more than 5 minutes to ride.

Most of the rides at Universal are 4D virtual rides, so if you want to ride roller coasters, you might be disappointed.  There are three real coasters there, the scariest is a ride called Rock It, the first climb literally straight up.  Our favorite coaster was the Hulk coaster, which shoots you over the first climb with a steam launcher.  There are better coasters at Cedar Point and Six Flags, but none of those parks beats the experience of Universal Studios.  The attention to detail is second to none, bringing to life movies like Jurassic Park, the Mummy, Shrek, Despicable Me, as well as TV shows such as the Simpsons and Jimmy Fallon.  There is a part of the park dedicated to Marvel comics and the funnies, also Doctor Suess.  We rode the Cat in the Hat ride, a kiddie ride, and were delighted.

We were treated to a selfie opportunity with Hashtag the Panda.  YES!

We also were surprised by the rental car that we were assigned — a red Dodge Charger R/T hemi.  Cool.  I was in heaven.  When we went to the parking spot to pick up the car, we didn’t know what car we were getting.  Neither of us believed it.

Exhausted but satisfied, we decided to close out our visit to Universal by having dinner at the Orlando City Walk.  Careful to stick to my budget, I knew we had enough to splurge on dinner.  Alyssa chose the restaurant, a cool looking place called Toothsome Chocolate Emporium.  It was a good choice, with excellent food and desserts.  At one point, Alyssa exclaimed “Dad, this is the best restaurant that I have ever been to!”.  It was an experience, my heart glad that she was having a good time.  This trip was more than I could afford, but it was not one that I could afford to miss.  It was worth every penny, my time with my girl something I will treasure for the rest of my life.  I am thankful and blessed.

Monday, we had breakfast with a woman that Alyssa had befriended and ministered to during her spring break trips to Daytona the past two years.  Denise gushed about how wonderful my daughter is, told me that they keep in touch weekly.  I can’t tell you how proud I am of my daughter.

I arrived home at 3 AM early Monday morning, tired but happy.  Three hours later I would be out of bed and on my way to work, trying to figure out how to pay the $1100 car repair bill and finding transportation while the car is being fixed (as of this writing, it’s not ready yet).  As my eyes closed, I thanked God for the gift that I experienced the last four days, a blessing that I am sure will be remembered as long as I live.

Hooooo booooyyyy….

Tags

biking, fun

….what did I get myself into?

My friend, Frank, messaged me this morning, asked me if I would be interesting in riding the 2018 Assault on Mount Mitchell with him.  He gave it the old “we are getting the band back together” pitch, saying that he had talked some of the guys we used to ride with to register for the event.  Frank and I have attempted the Assault together before.  I finished once out of three attempts — it’s that tough of a ride.

I guess it’s time to get the old titanium steed out of mothballs.

I registered tonight

Recently, I lost 22 pounds.  Good thing.  I need to start getting ready for this ride NOW.  I didn’t lose the weight for riding purposes but, hey, it’s a bonus!

Cold Feet

Tags

fun, Humour, lessons learned, life, neighbors, personal

Did I ever tell you that I live in the Chicago area?  Probably.

Did I ever tell you that I am an incurable St. Louis Cardinals baseball fan?  Undoubtedly.

Saturday night, my feet suddenly felt ice cold, as in “hell just froze over” cold.  That can only mean one thing and one thing only.  Only one.

Did I ever tell you something using the words ‘one’, ‘only’ and ‘thing’?  Of course.

The Cubs won the NLCS and are on their way to the World Series.

I was afraid to go to church last Sunday morning.  It was not because it was sell your house and follow me Sunday.  It wasn’t.  No.  There was a distinct possibility that church attendance would be drastically reduced.  After all, the rapture certainly occurred overnight and the world was about to end.

That will only occur if the Cubs actually perform the impossible and win the Series.

My next door neighbors are absolutely koo koo.  Nuts.  Hog wild excited.  The other night, they brought ‘Cub cakes’ to me — chocolate cup cakes with white frosting and a big blue W on top.  It was Be Nice To Someone Whose Team Is Not In The Playoffs For The First Time In Six Years day.  I think they were hoping their kindness would break the Cubs out of their scoring slump.  Apparently that worked.

Tonight, while I was mowing the lawn, my neighbors suddenly emerged from their house, yelling and screaming and waving a huge white W flag while marching around me.  Cub fans are a little dense.  Never taunt an angry man who is pushing a gas powered machine with whirling, sharp blades.

I joke.  I only mooned them…… (_._)

Now they have placed a little white W flag on the fence facing my house, a solar spotlight illuminating it so I can enjoy viewing it all night.  Yay.  Yippee.

Lest any one forget, I have failed miserably in raising my son.  He is a Cub fan.

I knew that this time was coming.  The Cubs were too good last season, barely missing the World Series.  I imagined escaping to a remote island on the Pacific, a refuge from the heckling, scantily clad island girls feeding me grapes and bringing me Coronas.  What I have discovered by weathering the storm is that this might be one of the most pleasant experiences that I have ever had, rivaling the celebrations I have had watching my Cardinals winning the World Series multiple times.  Seriously.  Cub fans are ecstatic, civil, giddy.. and it is truly enjoyable watching them celebrate.  I haven’t missed an inning of the Cubs’ playoff games the past few weeks, doubt that I will miss a World Series game.  This is fun.  It really is.

Don’t expect me to go overboard.  I would rather WATCH the celebration, not actually declare my love for the team.

See you at the end of the world.  It could be coming reaaaaaaaalllllll sooooooon.