As if I needed another reason to hate the Republican party

I'm still exhausted from riding Wisconsin's Rustic Roads yesterday,or I'd write about it.

Meanwhile, watch this:

Worth sitting through. Naomi Wolf is an engaging speaker. Beware, though, it's 40+ minutes long.

The First Annual Less-Than-Honorable Jimmy Chamberlain Pumpkin Run!

Holy shit, it's been a while since I posted anything here. I guess right now I actually feel I have something worthy of contributing...

I guess since my last post, 5+ weeks ago, I've been much busier with the scootering - and the bicycling, too, but that's not what this post is about...

Today was the The First Annual Less-Than-Honorable Jimmy Chamberlain Pumpkin Run, the first public ride of the nascent scooter club I'm in, The Magnificent Seven SC. There are way more than seven of us, too.

Anyway, we met up at the Depot Diner out on the west side, had some hearty breakfast food and then mounted up for a rambling 40-mile route in the eighty-something degree October Chicago heat.

Bungee-tastic fun! And I couldn't fucking resist...

Ben went a different route (most people just duct-taped the fucking thing to their leg-shields) with packing foam support. I'm still not sure what the saran wrap was about.

Ride on! Chicago-bound!

Jay with the triple-threat!

Hurry up and get gas, losers!

Sorry my fingers got caught up there.

Durso (not pictured, unfortunately) ended up winning with a 41-pounder. Mike, with the Honda Elite shown above, came in second place - first loser! - with 35 pounds. Millie (also not pictured) and I tied with 32 pounds each - although my second pumpkin, also brought back according to the rules, brought me up to 56 pounds.

Anyway, we ended up back at the Ranch - AKA Patrick's garage - for pizza, beer, and chit-chat. I stopped by Delilah's on the way home, and coming out of the bathroom, I found the perfect accessory sitting on my barstool. I swear to god I have no fucking clue where it came from!

Balls to the wall, baby! Next week we're planning to knock out Wisconsin's Rustic Roads Awards Program and earn ourselves some patches. Yesterday I paid over $150 for a gorilla suit. I think it needs some use. And that gourd and brassiere are not coming off until they rot off.

Oh, I'm spinning punk rock night at Delilah's on October 29th. Come on out and say hi, I'll give you some candy.

It's better with subtitles...

Life, or Something Like It

I got caught in the rain on my ride home from work. Onto the Vespa, around the gate and out into the dry street. Within a mile, BOOM - it starts pouring. It looked like a fucking movie.

It was a long day.

And with scooters on my mind: The last day before my break, two weeks ago, I had errands to run. I went straight from school, wearing scrubs - the last day for that also - and riding the Vespa.

I had all this shit with me by the time I got home.

The Spindle is slated for demolition. It's being torn down to make way for a Walgreen's. Critical Mass went out there on the July ride.

Oh, yeah. There's already a Walgreen's in that strip mall.

This is the piece of shit "compact" car I rented in AZ.

The third thing Renee said to me, after "Dat's Daddy-O!" (pointing at my friend Joe) and "Dat's Mommy!" (pointing at my friend Miki), was "Dat's Artoo-Detoo!"

Cute kid, ain't she? Not even two yet.

She called the mouse "computer knob." By the way, her shirt reads "Everyone loves a blue-eyed girl," and she can tell you that's exactly what it says if you ask her.

After visiting Joe and Miki for a few days, I drove from Phoenix up to Sedona to meet Dani for some camping and hiking.

See that little turnabout at the far left of the picture? That's where we parked for our hike. We didn't make it to the top; we started back down when it started raining and lighting on the slick rock, and went for some fresh microbrew, instead.

She's doing something related to dinner, either prep or clean-up. I lit the fire and cooked the food, like a real cave-man.

Since the rain had passed and it was rather nice out, we sat looking up at the stars that night. The Milky Way from the desert is pretty sweet. We were going to sleep out, but the damn skunks kept looking around our campsite. Pepe LePew motherfuckers. So we set up the tent and slept in to avoid skunkdom.

It ended up raining four times that night, Dani told me. I only woke up once.

We went hiking up another trail outside Sedona the next day, before heading back to the Hopi Res.

We made it to the top of this one, although we took a bad switchback and ended up forging our own trail for a little while.

Dani had to work the next day, but I hung out, laid back, relaxed, and went for a walk.

Look up!

Look down!

My friend Jenny is also working out there for IHS, so the three of us had dinner, and their friend Ericka also stopped by and we all hung out for a while.

This is the view starting out the four-hour drive back to PHX and my flight to Chicago.

My emotional state at that point surprised me. I realized I was sad for the simple prospect of missing Dani, and Jenny too, as I left. I hadn't felt that strongly about leaving anyone in a long time.

It was a fitting visual. I turned up the music, pushed the pedal down, and continued on my journey, too far gone to see anything if I looked back.

Microcar vs. Ninjas

I'm back from AZ and this is the first thing I post.

Those who want to talk have my number...

I know it's been a few weeks. The birthday weekend was a blast. I won't go into details due to being very tired and very pressed for time, but suffice it to say it involved DJing, scootering, bicycling, Smoking Popes, beeeeeeer, more scootering, more bicycling, more DJing, and more beer.

That - combined with last weekend's excursion to GORP in St. Louis, which fuckin' sucks - has left me with very little free time, and we got a bunch of prep work for the incoming residents dumped on us at the last minute as well. And of course I have to get up at 4am to catch a flight to PHX.

Maybe when I get back next week I can post some photos. Yeah, right. Sorry this blog is turning to suckage, but that's because I'm out doing other things, things more rewarding than relating my day to the computer. Plus I'm tired and a little buzzed from only a couple beers down at Cafe Fresco, and can't remember all the great topics I want to write about.

Those who want to talk have my number, so thbbbtttt! to those who don't. Look me up on MySpace if you need me that badly.

Let's get this party started right....

For years I never really cared about my birthday. Whoop-dee-do. Open some cards, get some cash, open some presents.

Two years ago, I actually forgot it was my birthday. I was hanging out with Marissa, who I'd met a few weeks earlier on a plane back from Quebec. It was stormy, we were driving back to her house from the grocery store and I started talking about how I'd gone camping the week before and burnt up whatever I had left over from my time with Marta. I must've said something about the age difference between us, because Marissa asked how old I was - which is when I realized it was my birthday. It was 5pm and it hadn't occurred to me all day.

Last year I actually had some plans. Vic Ruggiero, the Germs, Ska Night at Delilah's, and Critical Mass all put in an appearance, but the Sushi Para visitation was light - just Jamal and me, sharing our lonely birthday sushi dinner...

Tonight I picked up some tix for the Smoking Popes show on Friday, at which I shall meet Trish after Critical Mass likely heads out to Berwyn. ("BERR-WYNNNN?!?!?!") I also treated myself to dinner at the Handlebar and picked up some cashola to cover this weekend's potential expenses.

Tomorrow the plan is to pick up the Vespa from Old Town - finally! - and meet eight or nine people up at Sushi Para for AYCE BYOB sushi before heading to Delilah's for Ska Night, where I plan to DJ until Chuck shows up (usually late) for his regular gig.

Friday is the aforementioned Critical Mass ride and Smoking Popes show. Sometime this weekend I plan to see the Simpsons movie and get together with Liv and Les for dinner at least.

Monday I spin punk night at Delilah's. It's been a long time.

Tuesday is the Ukrainian Village Draught Beer Preservation Society's Tour de Biergarten. What a cap! I shall be totally tanked out and blitzed. Just in time for GORP next weekend.

I want a fuckin' moped now. Dork.

I've never been a Michael Jackson fan, but...

There's something about watching 1500+ inmates doing this...

Now think about the geo-cultural implications of prison inmates recreating a 20-year-old music video, and how the decision got promulgated amongst the inmates and prison administrators...

Mmmmm.........mass-marketing product tie-in......

It's been a while since I've really posted much here. But a few people have let me know recently that they like reading it, and Ryan K. told me he never knows what I'm up to anymore.

I've been writing less because, frankly, I couldn't be bothered. There wasn't anything I felt like I had to share. I was able to tell my stories to real people - even though some of those same real people read this. And, truth be told, not spending the time almost every night let me realize how much time I was devoting to this thing. (Too much.) So its priority got seriously downgraded. Or maybe I just had less to complain about.

The Vespa's in the shop for its 1,000km oil change and comprehensive inspection. I should (hopefully) be getting it back any day now. The shop in Chicago has to send it to their Joliet dealer for service, and the truck apparently doesn't come that frequently.

Here's some photos of the Kwik-E-Mart:Green squishee and frozen Jasper...

Who needs the Kwik-E-Mart?
I do.

Laugh out loud!

Holy shit!

iPhones are really just mass-marketed inferior products.

I hate the Republican party, too.

That's some cool-ass shit!

Makes me feel like I'm totally incompetent.

Here come the mods! Look out! They're coming for you!

I'm tired. Dana's apartment is apparently infested with bedbugs, so I helped her move some of her stuff out this evening. Feh.

This weekend was loooooong. Saturday was the third annual Mods vs. Rockers at Delilah's, so pretty much from noon to five I was hanging out up on Lincoln Ave.

I met some cool people - like Drew here - shot the shit, and saw a ton of scooters and motorcycles.

This Thai puppy provided a nice cover when it started raining in the middle of the afternoon. It dried off quickly, though it rained on us twice more before the end of the night.

Of course, there were a ton of motorcycles around, too.

Sean told me that they ended up making copies of the police NO PARKING flyers and flyering every parking meter for two blocks down.

We pulled out for a big group ride up to Montrose Harbor and then down to Motoworks on the west side. Of course, right after we got onto Lake Shore Drive, traffic slowed to a standstill and it started raining. It was so damn hot that day, that it wasn't too uncomfortable.

From LSD we hit Lower Wacker, which was nuts - a swarm of scooters and motorcycles ripping through there, and then onto I-290 out to Western. Pretty fun. More groups rides needed. After dinner at Motoworks, a bunch of us scooted back up to Delilah's via surface streets. I don't know what people thought seeing a bunch of scooters buzzing around.


Yesterday, I decided to take advantage of the gorgeous hot day and ride up Sheridan Road to Lake Bluff, since I'm going to miss the Scooterworks ride for being in Portland next weekend. It was great, although of course it would have been more fun if able to share it with someone.

Ah, well. C'est la vie.

I need to bicycle more, but the Vespa is so tempting. I'm being tempted by the Scooter Cannonball. The next one isn't until fall of 2008, I believe, but with my financial and time availability at that point in my career, I doubt it'll happen until 2010. Which is okay in a way, since it'll probably take me that long to find someone to ride it with me for company.

Anyone know what's good to do in Portland? I've got Thursday night and Saturday night to kill this weekend.

Fucking free drinks...

I would have liked to have been in bed a few hours ago, but $22 worth of drinks - only $5 of which I was charged for - kept me out longer than planned.

It's a weird feeling when I feel fine leaving the bar, but by the time I get home I find myself a little unsteady. Maybe "scary" is a better descriptor.

I've been sunned and rained on this weekend, worn myself out, sung along to live and prerecorded music, and generally taken good advantage of my free time to have fun and not accomplish anything. I've got a shitload of pictures; hopefully I can upload them before I head out to Portland next weekend.

First Drink of the Day!

Do you like ska, monkeys, and/or beer?

I thought so. Check this out.

The wind becomes a tornado

Tuesday night, for a lark, I took advantage of the cool weather to ride the Vespa up to Kafein in Evanston. I got kinda cold in just a T-shirt and leather jacket, riding into the 50-degree night weather. It was fun though. There was a super-cute girl, with hair maybe a quarter-inch longer than mine on one of the couches near me...too bad she was way too young.

Dana finally got a bicycle, after talking about it for a year. Last night we rode down to 31st St. Beach and sat and talked and caught up. Then we started back and I had a flat tire. Goddamnit. We walked the five miles or so back to her place and I got a ride home. Good opportunity to have a long conversation, though.

I got pissed off riding up Halsted this evening. Practically every asshole using the bike lane as a passing lane was in some sort of SUV. Even with bicycles wizzing and passing them by, they didn't have the common decency to get the fuck out of the bike lane. Shitheads. Were I on my bike and not the Vespa, I would have run out of loogies to hock at them.

It's so windy outside, my apartment is being messed up further by the vortices produced.

My shirt today says "BUSH HATES ME"

I think I'm caught up - for the next few days, at least - on my work. Which means I'm free nights. Who's up for a drink? Or a bike ride?

Anyway, I've spent most of my free time doing political reading online. I was telling Chris yesterday - as I've told my mother at one point in the last month - that the Bushies were closet fascists. Fortunately, our culture holds them somewhat to task (for the time being). But will it work in the long run? How do you think people would react to unfettered executive privilege? And speaking of Bushie fascism, Andrew Sullivan compares now-legal "enhanced interrogation techniques" to those of the Nazis, including documentation from the post-WWII war crimes tribunals.

I wonder what Germany felt like in the 1920s?

Previously on the Darren show...

I went to Seattle for an orthodontic convention a couple of weeks ago. Like I've told people, it's a pretty city, but not too cool. I stayed in a little dive hotel a couple blocks from the Space Needle, and the town is so small I was pretty much able to walk everywhere.

In the shadow of the Space Needle are both the Science Fiction Museum and the Pacific Science Center.

I first saw The Day the Earth Stood Still at the Sci-Fi Movie Fest at the Music Box a month ago. And here was Gort:

Since the Science Center was showing Spider-Man 3 in I-Max for less than I'd pay to see it in any theater in Chicago, and since I was flying solo that afternoon, I went in and saw it. Check out what was all over the walls of the bathroom:

That night, Isaac kicked my ass well and good while playing pool. Five times in a row, until the bar closed and kicked us out.

I think I-5 is the freeway that runs right through downtown Seattle. If you walk out the south side of the Washington Convention Center, you're in Freeway Park. It overhangs I-5, and while I could hear the traffic, there was none visible. It wasn't until I walked off the path and past a few trees and looked over a wall that I realized why the traffic was so loud. It's restful to have green spaces with such a secluded feel; I don't think we have such a deliberate clash of brutal urban architecture and greenery in Chicago.

Looking down First Hill:

People in Seattle weren't as friendly as in Chicago. It was definitely a different feel. It was odd to be in a city where the bicyclists all signalled their turns and didn't compulsorily lock their bikes up, and everyone obeyed the crossing signals even when no cars were coming. I talked to one guy, in fact, who was given nasty looks for crossing against the cross-walk.

I did Critical Mass with Danny and Tom for the first time in two months a few weeks ago. Such a blast, although I did accidentally drop and break an (empty) beer bottle.

Here we are heading north on Dearborn:

Tourists...

...who realize they aren't the only ones taking pictures.

I broke away from the Mass early so I could catch Propagandhi's set at the Abby. The crowd sucked, and they played a lot of songs off their latest and definitely not greatest, Potemkin City Limits. Still, I got into it during the old songs, although there were definitely a lot of Fat Wreck musclehead fans there. And $20 for a T-shirt? Fuck that. The designs weren't even that good.

I had one beer during the show at WNUR last night, but was still a little buzzed a few hours later. I think this is due to two factors:

1) I've been drinking less, so my tolerance has dropped
2) A 22oz., 8% abv beer is equal to about four regular beers

This is not the beer I was drinking. Laura W. and I polished most of this bad boy off late on a Friday night a few weeks ago. I think it knocked us on our asses pretty well.

I was rereading a novel I'd bought used several years ago, and at the end was a picture of Marta from four years ago, around when we first started dating. I must have used it as a book mark way back when. I was surprised at how forceful my emotional response was. I wanted to look at it and remember what I'd lost, but at the same time was very fearful that it would hurt me to do so. After I finished the book, I took a look at it, closely. It didn't match my memory of the time. My memory is nicer, probably because I don't have blinders on at the moment. I'd not seen Marta for almost two years, and I burned every picture of her I could find after we broke up as well. So it was nice to have a little confirmation that I'm definitely better off now without her, as lonely as I feel sometimes.

Since Chuck Wren usually doesn't show until after 10pm for Ska Night, I've decided I'm going to spin from 9pm until his arrival. I did it last week, he seemed grateful, I got a couple-three free drinks out of it and had fun playing music. Then I bought an $18 bottle of beer (plus tip) and pretty much knocked myself on my ass with it. The bicycle was definitely weaving a bit on the ride home that night.

Long-time readers probably won't remember the gorgeous girl I mentioned when I last spun Ska Night, in December, so check this old post out if you'd like background. Anyway, I think she was there at Ska Night last week, but with a guy who was obviously her boyfriend, by the low-key PDA going on.

I finally picked up my Vespa the other week. In early 2006 I started planning on getting one after I finished my residency, but my friend Patty told me to just go ahead and get it since we only live once - at least in our cosmology. So I started saving up for it last summer, mostly via student loans. And then I found out I need a motorcycle license for the model I wanted, with the 150cc engine - my dad wanted me to have something I could out-accelerate most tailgaters with. By the time I was able to take a rider course, get a license, and order the damn thing, it was already early May of 2007. And now I have it.

I've put about a hundred miles on it in the 2-3 days I've had the opportunity and cause to ride it - I still want to keep up the bicycling since the bike gets infinitely better mileage than does the Vespa. I've been up to Wilmette and out to Oak Brook on it, and spent the first 20 miles or so riding around the city, getting a feel for it. I took it to school one day last week where I didn't want to get super-sweaty riding my bike there in the heat, and it's pretty nice to just ride around the gate to exit the parking garage.

Let me rant and let me ramble

I finished last week exhausted, then worked this past weekend as well, although I at least got to sleep in.

I've spent the first few days of my break sleeping in, but going to bed too late to really get rested on it. I've seen a bunch of friends, as well as my parents and grandmother. I've vegged out rereading old novels I loved when I read them 10+ years ago. I ran errands and took care of shit.

Vespa: $4,299
Tax, title, license: $924
Leather jacket: $100
Insurance premium: $293/yr
Parking: $10/mo
Yes, it's gonna be good. I take my road test on Friday, hopefully I can pick it up next week.

Vic Ruggiero played a 2+ hour set Sunday night. Sweet, it was.

Yesterday I was rather productive. Today I was lazy and listless all fuckin' day. Somewhat of a waste. Relaxing, though not too good for my self-esteem.

I shaved my beard. I still have the urge to clean food off it after I eat. Gross. I swear my cheeks are getting chubbier. Not good.

I ran into Ryan K. twice at the grocery stores this evening. Ryan, I was going to say more about you, but I can't remember for shit at the moment. Sorry.

Tomorrow's a big cleaning day.

Anyone know any places I'd find cool in Seattle? I've got four nights to kill there, and a few days.

After too much fun: Eat to work, sleep to work, work to work, work, work!

Seventeen hours of science fiction at the Music Box yesterday. I'm fucking exhausted. I got home at quarter to six this morning, with the sky light and birds singing the coming of dawn. Of course, I woke up yesterday hungover and probably still a little buzzed from my, ahem, overindulgence Friday evening, after only eight hours of sleep. My body was screaming it needed more, so of course I went out into the world for 20 hours.

There was a really cute nerdy (of course, being a sci-fi fest) girl there who I often caught looking rather keenly in my direction at the Music Box. Unfortunately she was with first some friends, and then one guy met her later, and I was too chicken-shit to just ask if she were seeing anybody and ask her out.

I've been procrastinating at school, and as a result I'm going to have to work my ass off this week. But tests are done; the big thing I've got to do is get my IRB application done so I can send it in after my thesis committee meeting on Thursday morn. Oh, and reschedule a few patients so I can make that meeting. I've also got some records I took on Friday that I've got to organize.

This afternoon shall be spent working, and of course I'll get burned out and quit early. Whatever. After this weekend, and last weekend, and I dunno how many before that, I should be totally sleep-deprived.


On the plus side, I've been totally grooving on the Tim Armstrong/Aggrolites record, or the tracks that have been released online so far. I can't wait for the actual record to be out so I can get the songs all mastered to the same level.

I'm totally fucked.

Dude, I am so fucking plastered right now. We had our departmental graduation dinner tonight and I drank *waaaaaaaaaaaaaay* tooo much. I've already thrown up once in Fado, and Shana and Rob convinced me to take a cab home.

I'm writing this blog entry from my bathroom, and I'm sure you can guess what that means. I'm totally fucked up. It's been years since I've been this drunk. I started out with a plastic bag in my hand and headed for the bathroom right about the time I figured the plastic bag would be inadequate compensation for the shit I've been feeling. I've since upchucked 2-3 times into my toilet.

Moral of the story: know your limits. Don't fuck with them.