Fifty miles

Yesterday I did what was probably the most challenging physical thing I’ve ever done: I cycled a half century (that’s fifty miles to you non-cylist types). It was a crazy day, pretty emotional and not just in the expected ways.

I was really questioning my sanity in the morning when the alarm went off at 7 a.m. That’s an hour earlier than I get up on weekdays, for chrissakes. (I know, I know, I get up super late on weekdays, but that’s just how I roll.) One thing that will forever keep me from being a true cycling geek is my absolute hatred for getting up early, especially on weekends. But this was a special occasion, the Spring Century for the Charles River Wheelmen. And the scheduled start was at 9:30, which meant an early rise.

Now, besides the whole physical challenge, I was pretty concerned about the weather. All week they had been predicting showers, which makes for a pretty miserable bike ride of any distance. But despite the earlier threats, the weather was absolutely perfect. It was totally clear and sunny for most of the ride, and just started clouding up at the end. Thank you, weather gods.

As for the ride itself, it went well except for a some unexpected drama. We were riding along a fairly rural neighborhood road (I don’t even know in which town) when we spotted one of the more dangerous things you can encounter: an unleashed dog. He was running along behind a little kid on a bike. Swami got past the hazard without any trouble, but as I came by I saw the dog start coming right out into the road. I slowed down, but that unfortunately got the dog’s attention and he decided I was something to chase after. And bark at. And growl at. I heard him right behind my back wheel and remembered that it wouldn’t take much to get brought down at that point. Fortunately I had received some good instruction on loose dogs in Vermont last summer: stop and get off the bike, and yell at the dog. Then slowly walk away.

It took a lot of yelling. And I almost forgot the walk away part—my instinct was to just stand there shouting hostile things at the dog, apparently. Fortunately Swami reminded me about the walking. And just as fortunately, I got less interesting to the dog as I walked away. I was shaking pretty hard by the time we thought it was safe for me to get on the bike and keep riding.

The kid, of course, being young and small, was absolutely no help in calling off the dog, and didn’t see any reason to go get an adult to take care of the situation. And that’s who I’m really angry at: the parents who let this young kid go out in the street with an unleashed dog. Yes, even your sweet golden Lab might find a strange person worth snarling and barking at.

But I can’t let that detract from the overall ride. Hey, I survived! And the first 40 miles felt good, too. It was only the last ten that started to seem like a slog. I can actually say that I was sick of being on the bike by the time we finished, which is not something I’m familiar with. And today I don’t feel particularly sore, either.

Now for a bit of time off, including a trip to SF this weekend. And maybe in the fall, we can try for a metric century. Always good to have a goal, right?

Review: Crowded House at the Somerville Theatre

Rather than attempt to be coherent, I’m going to do this in a more stream-of-consciousness style, because I’m still buzzed and not interested in making sense. First, I want to thank the Swami for indulging my need to go to both shows, even though they were on a Monday and Tuesday, because I really couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d missed one.

First night (setlist, although see below for more details): We were up in the front part of the balcony, but I wasn’t about to complain because I damn near missed out on getting any tickets at all. (Foolishly gave up a pair of orch seats right at 10:04 on sale day and then couldn’t get anything for an agonizing fifteen minutes.) It’s not like the venue is huge, either, so you’re never that far from the action.

Funny thing is that I thought the show started out kind of low on energy, although we got some songs I really enjoy (“Everything Is Good for You” and “Say That Again,” for example). And they’re workshopping new songs, which is something special that I’ve never seen with the Crowdies before. But then things really took off. We got absolutely scorching versions of “When You Come” (which Neil had to interrupt because he thought he was going to sneeze, heh!) and “It’s Only Natural,” with Nick at one point cheerfully abusing a tambourine like a madman. And the encores kept the energy level high, with a great version of “Fingers of Love” featuring one of Mark’s magisterial solos.

And then—chaos! Neil actually agreed to attempt someone’s impossible request of “Mary of the South Seas,” which he has obviously forgotten almost entirely. He sang the chorus a couple of times while the rest of the band looked quizzical (Mark did his soldierly best to accompany on harmonica). Then Neil started thinking about all the songs he’s written that mention names. So he played “Lester,” “I Love You Dawn,” and “Hello Sandy Allen” while calling chord changes out to Nick. Then somebody yelled for “Log Cabin Fever,” which Neil again did his best at. (Unlike Neil, I remember the second verse, dammit, but I was too far away to yell it to him.) At this point I was thoroughly falling out of my chair. During the rockout end of the song, Neil was playing alone, then said “You know it’s all in E, boys,” and the rest of the band finally joined in—though of course it did not resemble the actual song. Then we got the insanely obscure “Evelyn” and a bit of “Iris,” and finally the whole awesome detour was capped off by a full and gorgeous version of “Catherine Wheels.” What else can I say!

Actually, I should mention the night’s theme of Sharks, which is a kids’ game where you try to make it across a room without touching the floor. I’ve been informed that it’s nuts that I hadn’t heard of this game, but apparently the Kiwis have come up with something entirely original. And it led to a fair amount of silliness, which is another reason to love seeing these guys live.

Second night (see discussion thread here): I figured it would be hard to live up to that first night, but they still put on a great show. I also had the best seats I’ve ever bought for a show in my entire life, second row center section. The ticketing gods smiled upon me that day, and I am grateful.

They stuck to the set list this time, but the best thing about CH is that they can do a second show with hardly any overlap. I’m a huge fan of the unpredictable set list. As for songs, there’s never any reason to regret hearing “Private Universe,” and they did a kickass version of “Chocolate Cake.” But the highlight for me was “Whispers and Moans,” which I truly thought I would never hear in person. Ohhhh yeah.

It feels very, very weird to not be at a Crowded House concert tonight. And what a treat it was to have two shows in a row. Considering that I went from 1994 to 2007 without any live CH, but have seen four shows in the last ten months, this is just what a fan needs. Whoop!

(Postscript added on edit: I should also mention that Mark, in his suit and tie, looks more and more like an English teacher rocking out on stage. I also spotted Nick and Mark on the sidewalk shortly before show two, but managed to keep my cool [i.e., chickened out] and didn’t bug them. Another opportunity to look like a crazed fan avoided.)

Overhyped

I feel obligated to respond to the suggestion that LeBron James is not overhyped, as I claimed over here.

A short discussion of semantics is called for as a preliminary. Labeling James overhyped has nothing to do with whether he’s a good basketball player; it would be downright idiotic to claim that he has no skill or talent. Let’s just get that out of the way. It’s about the hype. In the immortal words of Public Enemy, don’t believe it.

First, he hasn’t actually achieved anything. And no, I don’t believe for a second that a player has to win a championship to be considered an excellent player. But consider the attention James gets, the adulation, the seemingly unconditional love and attention. And consider what he has delivered in return.

Second, he receives insane levels of preferential treatment from the refs and the league. He travels to the basket all the time. Players who foul him receive harsh punishments; when he metes out similarly flagrant fouls on other players, he is protected from the consequences.

Third, he’s just a lousy representative of the NBA. Do I have to bring up the Darfur thing again? He’s a manufactured superstar who has done very little to earn respect for what he does, but rather seems to just sit back and let the league crown him as king because they need individuals to feed their hype machine.

Really, how can he not be seen as overhyped at this point? It will be very interesting to watch the Cleveland-Boston matchup in round 2. I hope KG goes easy on the poor guy; he has such a tough time getting fouled while he’s traveling his ass towards the basket.