Winter Holidays 2022!

[Cygnia]

[Cygnia]

[Hermit]

"My word, Holmes, we're in the Public Domain at last!"

[Logan D. Hurricanes]

My New Years Resolution is to annoy less grammar pedants.

[Cancer]

2 hours ago, Cygnia said:

 

The Ticketmaster pricetag for that is on the low side for them.

[Old Man]

 

Beat me to it.

 

11 minutes ago, Logan D. Hurricanes said:

My New Years Resolution is to annoy less grammar pedants.

 

Must--not--be--annoyed---

[Cancer]

Naah, be annoyed, but blame it on the hangover.

[Pariah]

5 hours ago, Logan D. Hurricanes said:

My New Years Resolution is to annoy less grammar pedants.

 

* fewer

 

[Logan D. Hurricanes]

[Starlord]

[Cygnia]

[Cygnia]

[Duke Bushido]

Well, this might be amusing- most likely to Chris Goodwin, as he actually knows what I look like. 

 

a brief synopsis:

 

I am not a giant.  I have mentioned before that I am the shortest of alll my siblings.  As I said: not a giant.  I am still   a big guy, though- at least in my age group (62.  Most people my age are smaller than me).

 

I stand six-foot-even after the spine crushing and surgeries.  I was once just shy of 6-2 (and was tied with my shortest sister for shortest of the siblings.  I would love to say that I still weigh 260 and wear 36" waist, but age has crept up on me; you will have to add 12 to 16 pounds of belly to that these days, and sometimes two inches of waist band to accommodate it at its worst. 

 

I have mentioned before that I have a beard- not because  I have always wanted one, but because it grows so fast that I haven't been able to pull off "clean shaven" since I was twelve or thirteen (this runs on one side of the family: my son is named for my favorite uncle, who had it worse than I do).  For the past thirty years, with a brand new set of razors and a whole can of cream, the best I can pull off is "not horribly scruffy."  (If I get dirty, that's out the window, however).

 

so I have a beard soley because I have never had a burning desire to shave three times a day, and can't recall any jobs offering "shave breaks."  For what it is worth, having held a couple of jobs that required clean-shaves, I can attest that it is possible to learn to not be bothered by dry shaving. 

 

now, I _love_ Christmas, and I _love_ kids.  Had it been in the cards for us, I would have had six or seven- or, as I told my wife when we were dating: "four girls and ever-how-many boys it takes to get there," to which she replied "bigamy it is, then."  (And No; it isn't.  There isn't anyone else I have been interested in since we met twenty-some years ago.)

 

on the first of October, I stop trimming the beard.  This is so that by December, I have a nice full Santa-like beard.  When we go to outdoor events or out Christmas shopping, I powder it white and pop on a Santa hat and I love seeing all the littlest kids light up and turn to their mothers "Mommy!  Mommy; I saw _Santa_!"  They are always so excited. 

 

and generally I cut it back to "normal" the first Saturday I have off in January.

 

Now our winter shutdown this year was the week between Christmas weekend and New Year's weekend, and we had that polar vortex thing going on, so I had already told the wife that the time off, the weather, and my getting the Valk  back on the road combined to mean only one thing:

 

I was going camping!

 

Were I able to access the site on the computer with a proper keyboard, I would elaborate in great detail as to all the various "why's," but let it suffice to say that I _love_ to camp in freezing weather, and just trust that there many, many reasons for this.

 

Monday morning around 4 AM, I loaded my gear on the fat lady, suited up in my few remaining articles of clothing  from my youth (most have worn away over the decades, having been,pressed into service as work gear, but I still have a couple of coats like you simply cannot find in this part of the country).  The thermometer on the porch said eight degrees; I grinned and warmed up the bike, then headed a gew hours north to Lake Oconnee.

 

I hadn't seen the lake in nearly fifteen years, and I kept hearing about how it was drying up, and I wanted to see that for myself, so that was the first stop.  Had a great ride, a great sleep in an icy tent, and got to satisfy my curiosity about the lake.  Yep: water demand and increasingly-decreasing annual rainfall are drying the lake up (it is a manmade reservoir from before my time).  Weirdly, there are all kinds of local bans on washing your car or watering your yard, but there are roughly two-dozen automated car washes just in the areas around town in which I rode, all of them open for business.  The phone told me around noon that it was 42 degrees, and I had already passed four banks and several restaurants with sprinklers running-  in December, during our very tiny "freezin' season."  Evidently the local citizenry here has to endure restrictions on water usage to make sure the corporations can waste as much as they want.

 

but this isn't that story, so...

 

I broke camp before noon and headed to Helen, which if you haven't been,  is just beautiful, and is sort of Georgia's "Motorcycle Mecca."  Same as before: lots of great miles and gorgeous scenery and scents, and the best sleep I have had in a year.

 

about mid-morning, I broke camp and meandered vaguely southward- I wanted to be home before anyone woke up Thursday morning, and i had spent too much time at the Lake.

 

I ended up deciding to stay at a state park in Crawfordville.  Now I was _going_ to stay at another place about forty-five minutes further toward home, but I passed a sign that made me do a double-take and eventually pull a U-turn. 

 

 I have mentioned before that my day job includes, amongst a lot of other things, commodoties buying.  That includes lumber.  I had just driven past quite possibly the smallest lumber yard and treatment facility I have ever seen, and it bore the name of a company who has in the last three years become my single biggest source of treated 2x6.

 

I was a bit confused, but then I thought "well, either it's them or it isn't, and either way it wont hurt anyone if I end up wishing total strangers a Happy New Year, so..."

 

I spun the bike around, doubled back to the entrance, and sure enough, I recognized two of the trucks parked around the place.  I circled the place a couple of times looking for somewhere to park that wasn't in a truck or forklift path, found one that seemed good, and got off the bike.

 

I need to point out that at this time, it was 38 degrees, and I had been intentionally running narrow shady back roads (for several reasons, the least of which was to avoid sweating at less-than-highway speeds.  Withiut highway speeds, the wind chill wasn't sufficient enough to cool me in my gear, yet it was sufficient enough to prevent me from removing it.  Those from colder climes know what happens when you sweat inside your clothes in cold weather).

 

and this is why I described me.  Now as to my gear:

 

I have an old racing jacket that _looks_ like an old denim jacket.  It isn't, but it is fabric and dyed to look like denim.  Not only is it full of racing pads along shoulders, elbows, chest, obliques, and spine, it is also rated for 10 degrees below zero-- but is not wind rated.  It _does_ stop wind at lower speed, but get over thirty-five or so, and it gets airish...

 

to combat this, I have a forty-some year old Drover's coat.  This is the sort of coat that high school kids mistake for a trnchcoat and Hollywood mistakes (constantly) for period-accurate cowboy wear (and accordingly, now most of America does, too.)  This style of coat is actually Australian in origination.

 

this one is _heavy_ leather.  I know most everyone with a leather greatcoat of any kind swears theirs is heavy, but let me elaborate:

 

This is not sheep or goatskin, nor is it split leather.  It _is_ soft, but that is more because of forty years of keeping it conditioned and oiled.  This coat is 3.8 mil full-grain leather.  It is rated for heavy winds (I do not remember the rating-- I _think_ 60mph?--, but I can tell you that it gets a bit flappy and tuggy as you near 80 mph on the bike), and between the thickness of leather and the lining, it is rated to keep you snug at down to 50 below.  This is why I take such good care of it:  you can't find that kind of rating within twelve hours of where I live.  Further, synthetics coming as far as they have the last thirty years, I doubt anyone still makes a coat like this.  My brother Jayson refers to it as "my leather onesie" (in spite of him owning the  exact same coat) because of how you have to put it on (set the leg and ankle straps. Then slide it up your legs and,over your shoulders, all at once) to ensure that it falls and stays where it should be when riding.

 

My wife refers to it as her leather blanket, because when she is restless, she has been known to dig it out of the closet, put it on the bed, and sleep under it for the comfort of the weight (just a tiny bit under twenty-two pound).

 

The biggest thing to stress is that this is _not_ a fashionable or even attractive coat to most people (I mean, it looks warm and windproof to me, but that is not what everyone is interested in, I suppose).  It fastens all the way up to the chin and hangs to the ankles and looks like nothing so much as a brown leather sleeping bag with sleeves.

 

I am a big-ish guy.

I am wearing a warm and heavily-padded coat under an even larger coat.  There is little humidity, so I am having a _great_ hair day, beard-wise.  It has spread out shoulder-to-shoulder and halfway down my breastbone. Most of my face is hidden by it.  I have my felt-and-wool do-rag pulled right to the top of my sunglasses to prevent wind-induced brain-freeze in this weather (I am claustrophobic, and find it difficult to wear a full-face helmet more than a few minutes).  I am wearing sub-zero gauntlets that look like high-end welder's gloves.  I have my cane in a soft-scabbard I had made shortly after learning how to walk again (sometimes, especially if I have to sit still for too long, my back siezes, or settles onto one or both sciatic nerves--  anyway, if I over-do it or greatly under-do it, I need the cane to walk with.  Because grabbing a hook-handle cane over my shoulder is a nuisance, I had selected one with hollow,brass and mother-of-pearl ball of a handle, and it just caps off the sheath without any indication of what it actually is.

 

The most important part of All of this, however, is that I am not self-aware enough to realize that this is what I look like.  I am still riding high on the weather, the camping, and being all cozy in my nice warm gear.

 

I go inside.  There is a woman speaking into a phone, and I recognize her voice as my sales person, J.  She sees me and puts her hand over the phone and cals "B!  B, can you come up front, please!  B!"

 

She turns back to the phone, writes furiously on a notepad and says "okay, I have got it; I will call you back in a few minutes-- B, I need you up here!" She almost screams.

 

I figure "okay, she's busy, and she thinks I am customer, so she is calling another sales guy" because.. Well, let's be perfectly honest: I have spent a liferime perfecting the art of forgetting just how cussed ugly I am. 

 

B comes darting in from a side door, and J looks relieved.  She glances at me, then at B, and I swear I could see her eyes _push_ his gaze toward me.  He steps a bit to his left to out himself between me,and J.

 

I am still clueless.

 

They appear to be done communicating, so I step forward.  B asks me firmly "is there something I can help you with, Sir?"

 

"Not really; I just hapened to find you guys out here in the middle of nowhere and this seemed like a great opportunity!"  (again: I am not a clever man)

 

"Sir?!"  He says, almost a challenge.

 

"To wish you a Happy New Year.  I extend a hand.  "My name is Duke Oliver;  I am the lumber buyer for XYZ company."

 

"Woooo!!  Oh, praise _GOD_!" J blows out in the loudest sigh of relief I have ever heard, throwing her hands in the air.  She deflates and slides deep down into her chair,  "I thought we were getting robbed..."

 

 

So, you know....

 

That went well.

 

Eventually.

 

 

 

[Cygnia]

[Cancer]

As a college instructor, I think I made that transformation decades ago.

[Pariah]

[Cygnia]

[Logan D. Hurricanes]

Today is Charles Addams' 100th birthday!

 

[dmjalund]

10 hours ago, Logan D. Hurricanes said:

Today is Charles Addams' 100th birthday!

 

Although it's traditional to celebrate it on Wednesday

[Cygnia]

[Logan D. Hurricanes]

[Cygnia]

[Cygnia]

[L. Marcus]

10 hours ago, Cygnia said:

*insert gif of captain Mal grasping for words*

[dmjalund]

11 minutes ago, L. Marcus said:

*insert gif of captain Mal grasping for words*

That's actually Richard Castle