They continue...

...and today's exchange was even better. It started getting on my nerves though. But even I think this is hilarious.

* 9:55 am *

Unknown Person: Wat up wt tha car

Unknown Person: U ok

Me: No! I'm still pissed you said a nasty word to me you big potty-mouth!

Unknown Person: Who r u a petafile wierd ass boy

Me: You originally contacted me. You should know who I am!

Unknown person: Answer tha phone what you hyden

Me: I can't talk!

* I have now officially decided this person is getting tiresome. Time to switch tactics. *

Me: Who's selling you your stuff? Tell me now, it will be better in the long run.

Unknown person: Obama sold it2 kadafi

Me: Are you familiar with the penalties for interfering with an investigation?

Unknown Person: im on my way 2 the detev now

Me: think about your future and I'll get back with you @ 16:00

* I ride my bike to work and teach lab *

* exactly 4pm *

Me: Hello youngster. Have you given any more thought to what we talked about?

* phone rings *

Me: Yesterday you told my associate something about 'free incom'. Tell me who is at the top of your secret noodle ring. Tell me!

Unknown person: Free incoming calls.

Me: Oh. It's not a drug ring?

Me: If it's not a secret drug ring, then I'm not interested. Have a nice day. God bless!

Unknown person: im only 12 im taking my phone 2 my dads.

Me: Tell him I want to talk to him about your potty mouth.

Me: and talking to strangers!

Me: and spending more time with your English book!

* phone rings, I answer *

Me (talking in deep voice): "Talk to me".

Unknown Person: "You need to tell your kid to quit playing with the phone."

* Click! Person hangs up. *

I think we're done now.

Today's random text exchange

Actually started last night at 10 foopin' 59 pm!

Unknown person: Wat up?

* I noticed the message this morning after I got to work. *

Me: Yo, wat up dog? (

* see? I'm trying to be more "hip" this time around *

Phone rings! Yarf!

* I didn't answer and the person didn't leave a voice mail. *

Me: Why U B ringing me and hangin up like dat?

Phone rings again. Followed by a text message.

Unknown late night sales person: Free incom

Me: You spelled income wrongly.

Unknown persistant solicitous person: Ca me

Me: I have laryngitis and can't talk

Unknown person: Who ds

Me: I ds

Unknown Person: Wat

Me: I do

Unknown Scary Person: Leav dayton nw

Me: But I like it here! I'm not in danger, am I?

Unknown profane person: F*ck u

Me: That wasn't very nice! Why u gotta do me like dat?

* I go teach class. No answer when I get back *

Me: Hey, let's make a deal: if you apologize for talking nasty to me, I won't plaster your phone number on my blog with 12,000 page hits. Deal?

Unknown person: Deal tha nuts in yo mouth.

I'm pretty sure that's not an apology.

(937) 270-2330

I think I remember from working a phone bank that *67 blocks caller ID. So, hit *67 first and let's have fun with this foophead.

I think I'm gonna "whack" myself

I'm borrowing a great quote from a friend:

"Life is a very complicated drinking game"

And I've been thinking my foopin' head off regarding an exit strategy.

Before you get to worried, let me explain.

I am very fortunate to do some work on the side with the very very elderly. Fortunate in the sense that I have shared some great moments with several people which I should blog out sometime later. But especially fortunate that these visits have led me to the inescapable conclusion that I do not want to live "too long".

Wally is a prime example.

Wally is well into his 80's. We've been buddies for maybe five years. I met him doing my monthly "Science with Mike" show at an assisted living center. And, when his health failed further and bought him a ticket out of the world of assisted living and into various nursing homes, I followed him around and visit him like once or twice a month. He's a former engineer. Mentally, sharp as a tack. Physically, failing and now completely bed ridden. Been that way for weeks.

I saw him Saturday. Now, when I arrive, he kisses my hand. You would think this would make a guy feel weird. Well, it does. The first time anyway.

When I walk in, I notice he was laying with his torso elevated and leaned over to one side. His head is resting on the side rail of the bed. He can barely draw a breath and so I can barely hear him speak. I consider myself to have a good ear. But, I need him to repeat things three or four times now. Then we just sort share silence together. This is what I got out of him Saturday in 30 minutes:

"It's wonderful to see you"
"What's it like outside?"
"What day is it"
"I can't lay like this"
"The bed is too small"
"I love you"

His bed is too small and his feet were pressed up against the footrest not allowing his legs to straighten out. So, I ineptly tried to prop him up more and while I do, I notice he now has the adult diaper and a very putrid smell.

The nurse walked by and noticed my inept attempts and helped me lift him up more using the sheet under him. I asked Wally if that was better and he sort of pivoted his hand from side to side to say "not really". "He's too tall", the nurse rationalized. I asked if they had different beds and she told me it was a Hospice bed and they only came in that size.

I'm rambling. I guess I should start making a couple of points.

1) If it's supposed to be the vehicle you ride to death, how in the hell does Hospice not make a bed that it bigger? Maybe they do. My mom works for Hospice so she can answer that.

2) I really really really really really really really really don't want to live that long. I've seen too many people die this way.

How can I be sure I won't? Maybe I should give up cycling. Knowing my luck this ticker of mine will keep ticking and the rest of me will go to hell, while I lay there...like Wally is.

You might think this is funny. But, when I was driving back from my visit with Wally, I thought up a plan:

1) Befriend a younger person who would not be opposed to helping escort me out of this world in the case I am lying there like a sack of potatoes waiting for The Grim Reaper. This person cannot be a close family member. It's too emotional, so those folks usually want you to hang around as long as possible, so they cannot be in on the plan.

2) Arrange some sort of deal where this person delivers some sleeping pills to my nursing home bed. If they want money for this task, I'll arrange for a bank account to be set up specifically for this. I'll give this person a bank card and when they deliver the goods, I'll give them a PIN number in my dying breath.

3) Die

4) Fly towards the light Mikey, Fly!

If you're opposed to this type of thing, I don't mean to offend you. Hey, it was just an inspired fantasy.

But on that note, I ain't going out in diapers either.

So...anybody think they'll wanna make some cash somewhere around the year 2058?

MC delta T

Last quarter, we were discussing the equation for heat transfer

Q = MC (delta) T

Where Q is the heat energy in calories or Joules. M is the mass of the substance, C is the Specific Heat Capacity and delta T is the change in temperature.

As I do every year, I mention in passing that if I were a Hip Hop artist, my stage name would be "M.C. delta T". People laugh a bit. After all, my initials are "M.C.".

I recycle jokes like it was Earth Day.

So, today I'm feeling a bit blue for no good reason. And to come to my rescue, one of my nicer and funnier students handed me a piece of paper and told me he wrote me this hip hop:

The guy is leaving for Marine boot camp on June 9th and will be attending Case Western Reserve University on a scholarship.

I feel so much better about the future now.

Happy Meal Steal

For those who don't think DEVO was an influential force in music, check out "New Wave Nigel" one of the new McDonald's "American Idol" Happy Meal Toys:

He has a one-color jump suit, plastic hair, sunglasses:

You could chalk all that up to coincidence.

Until you check out his dome.

Achy Breakey Art

There's a person in my department who has broken some equipment.

For the sake of protecting his/her identity, let's call him/her "Art".

In the past week alone, Art has:

* Pulled out and broken a huge, heavy lab drawer.
* Broken a solid stainless steel sample holder
* Broken the metal handle off a $1,200 polarimeter.

So, where to from here? I should confront the person, right?

No way! Art is obviously on steroids and I'm going to do whatever the hell he/she wants! I'm maintaining a safe minimum distance of at least 5 feet at all times.

I might be next!

Want some weed?

Happy Earth Day everybody.

Yay Earth! It's my favorite planet in the solar system and if given the choice I would live on no other planet, now that Pluto's gone.

But the Earth, she frustrates me.

Like, how cum I can grow dandelions like nobody's business, but I can't grow asparagus? Aren't they both like, weeds, or weed-like?

When Mr. Sun comes out, my front lawn gets baked. This has tilted the outcome of the ongoing grass/weed wars. Last year, the Rebel Grass Alliance was handily defeating the Imperial Dandelion Empire. This year, the tables have turned. I am contemplating joining the Rebel Grass Alliance and heading to the Home Army Depot, where I will procure weapons and be forced to commit mass herbicide.

* heavy Darth Vader-like breathing *

Actually, I really don't care about my lawn that much. My neighbors all have a lawn service and there's no way I can compete with that. Their grass looks so good, I secretly want to roll naked in it. So, I suppose it's my mission to help make them look good. Fine.

But, ya wanna know what's a real kick in the grass? I have a small little patch in my backyard dedicated to growing asparagus. And guess what's growing there?

Grass.

Oiy!

So, here I am waiting for the Earth to pop an erection and reward me with some tasty asparagus and I keep having to pull up grass that I can't grow in the remaining 99% of my lawn.

Why do I put myself through this? Because I loves me some asparagus, that's why!

Why not just buy it from the store? Because it wouldn't be purple! I grow purple asparagus! You can't find that at a store.

See?

Doesn't purple asparagus turn green when you cook it anyhow? Well...yeah.

Happy Earth Day just the same.

Time Trial Excuse Values

Today was the International Pro Bike Shop time trial in Bellbrook, OH.

Hey you, non-bike racer. Stick with me. I'm going to try to make this worth your while. First, I will define what the foop a time trial is.

Time Trial: An individual bike race where participants are timed over a specific distance and ride by themselves as fast as they can.

You can't ride in a pack and draft off people. It's a good test to see how fast you can ride over a long period. There's no strategy except gauging your effort. Since you can't draft, aerodynamics are important and so there's all sorts of equipment designed for time trials which include; aerodynamic disk wheels which do not stir the air as much as spokes, aerodynamic "space helmets", shoe covers, I could go on.

The time trial is often called the "race of truth". And the truth is, I did poopy today.

In October I rode a 24:32 at this, which I was proud of. The course has a hill on it and is a twisty-turny 10 miles on narrow bumpy farm roads.

Today I didn't even break the 26 minute mark.

BUT! I have a good excuse. And excuses are worth time. For example, say you had a cold this week. That's gotta be worth at least 15 seconds. That is, your time should be 15 seconds slower than normal if you have a cold. So when your time is posted, people will factor that in and you will be less embarrassed. To make your excuses more credible, make sure you get them out there before the start.

Here is a list of common excuses used before and after time trials and their approximate worth. I've arranged them in increasing order of how much they would slow you down:

Took a corner too hot: 5 seconds

Chain hung up on shift: 5 seconds

Car got in the way of turn: 5 seconds

I forgot/don't have aerodynamic "space helmet": 10 seconds

I have a cold: 15 seconds

I have the flu: 30 seconds

I forgot/don't have aerodynamic disk wheel: 30 seconds

I haven't been on my bike in ___ days: ___ days times 5 seconds

I drank too many beers last night: number of beers minus 2 times 5 seconds

I had a flat: Infinite*

I got lost: Infinite*

* your sorry ass will probably not even finish.

You might notice that some excuses that apply to everybody are omitted. Excuses like these (like "it was windy" or "it was raining") usually apply to everyone and do not effectively explain why you had a sucky-ass time. So avoid these.

After I received my time of 26:10 or whatever, I was really puzzled. I thought my training had been coming along fine this year. So, I was disappointed and I went for a short spin to loosen up and have some "quiet time".

And then, it happened.

I started feeling the bumps in the road a little more harshly than normal. I peeked back and noticed my rear wheel was flat.

My excuse had materialized and it felt so much better to know it wasn't completely my fault.

BUT BUT! I could have prevented this. Last night I inflated my rear wheel and threw it in my car. This morning, I noticed it was deflated. I should have changed the tube out. But, I was too lazy and was hoping it just because the valve was open a bit.

Being a dumbass: Inexcusable.

While I was riding the last leg of the 10 miles, I looked down and was surprised at the low speeds I was generating. I usually can hammer out 25+ mph with not much effort on this stretch. But, my bike 'puter kept telling me 23. I figured it was because I had used myself up and was not yet fit for time trials. But, maybe my rear tire was really soft.

What was my real time? I am getting over a cold. I did drink three beers last night. And my rear tire went soft. Let's say "half" a cold excuse = 7.5 seconds. 3 beers should be 3-2 x 5 seconds = 5 seconds and the whole soft tire thing could be worth 30 seconds.

26:10 minus :42.5 is still 25:27.5

I had a bad day.

So, bike racer guy. Have a bad day? And where to from here?

Here's whatcha don't do:

One dude got lost. I'm serious. He rode back into the parking lot and threw his helmet down really hard in anger and yelled up a storm while his girlfriend watched and told him to get over it. He blamed it on the flagger guy not flagging him the right way. Pfeh. There's a map of the course on the web site and you could easily come out early and do recon. So, this, my friends, is a lame excuse. Acting like a big baby makes you look and sound even dumber, especially in front of your girlfriend.

I don't do this. Largely because I like my aerodynamic space helmet too much. And, I don't have a girlfriend.

The best thing to do is to take the number you pinned to your jersey and keep it. Stow it away somewhere and take it with you when you train. It will remind you of the frustration you felt and be good motivation for your training.

I didn't have a good day. But my space helmet doesn't have any scratches on it and number 239 is going to be in my back pocket Tuesday morning.

Now you go and have a good day.

This woke me up

today at 5:30am.

I thought it was the garbage truck driving by. I thought to myself "wow, those garbage trucks are heavy enough to shake the whole house?".

5.2 earthquake rattles Midwest; tremors felt in Miami Valley

WEST SALEM, Ill. (AP/WDTN) - Residents across the Midwest were awakened Friday morning by a 5.2 magnitude earthquake that rattled skyscrapers in Chicago's Loop and homes in the Miami Valley but appeared to cause no major injuries or damage.

I was having a cool x-rated dream. But, it was well worth it to wake up to experience this, even if I thought it was a rowdy garbage truck at the time. Cross another one off my life's "to do" list in the "mother nature" area:

• Feel an earthquake. DONE
• See a funnel cloud. NOT DONE YET.
• Have sex with a cyborg woman. PARTALLY DONE.

CRON diet

I'm curious about this. Everyody who is on this diet, please raise your hand!

Okay then...

...maybe call someone over and have them lift your hand up for you?

Everybody is "Horny" this time of year!

Ah...spring.

Time when the "Honky's" come out.

Don't worry, I'm "takin' it back".

Honky: Noun, [Hong-keee] People who honk at cyclists on the road.

There are three classifications of "honks" one encounters when on a bike:

1) "Happy" Honk
2) "I hate you and get off the road"
3) "This car is equipped with a horn that is in working condition"

Spring is the time for honks type 1 and 2. People start saying to themselves "Hey, look at these two-wheeled things on the road!".

The "Happy" Honk: Small toots of short duration. I get these when I do hill repeats on Linden Ave in Miamisburg or Wilmngton Rd. near Lebanon. It means "Good job, sporty guy!". They are usually followed by a "thumbs up" or other symbol of encouragement. I usually respond with a wave. What a joy to receive these. God bless you folks in Miamisburg and Lebanon.

The "I hate you and get off the road" Honk: This is a long, constant blast followed by a middle finger or launching of a ballistic particle, such as a McDonald's Big Mac. I used to ignore these. But, in my old age I am getting cranky and I have been returning the bird when I can escape safely to the rail trail. I can ride no hands and so some recipients earn the "double bird". Yeah.

I got a type 2 honk today. From some old folks. Must be that Metamucil kicked in and they were in a hurry. But, ironically, I was simply riding with the flow of traffic in such a way that didn't cost them any time. They were taking a left turn and I was riding right past them. They looked at me as if to say "do you have a license to be on the road?".

I didn't give them the bird. I only return the bird. I did feel like giving their windshield a squirt with by water bottle though.

I shoulda done that. The old Foopers.

Bye.

Tonight's Questions

5 year old: Daddy, what happens if a block hole comes and swallows up Earth?

I told her black holes are far away and this won't happen.

Right?

7 year old: Daddy, which would you rather give up; Squeek and Goldie (our goldfish) or closets to put things in?

I told her the goldfish, as long as there was a good home for them somewhere else.

Cus, like, come on. Closets!

All Ages Understand Science

I dropped my daughter off at Church so she could go through a class for her first communion and learn how to become a cathaholic.

We got there and class hadn't started yet. She's shy and was feeling a little anxious and wanted me to stick around.

We sat next to some little hyper guy named Benjamin. At least that's what his lil' panda bear name tag read.

Each little kid got a ziploc bag full of stuff and it was clear to me that Benjamin had discovered how to empty it's contents and wear it on his head like an Army Beret.

What a funny little guy. Benjamin's parents didn't stick around, by the way.

Next on Benjamin's agenda is taking a thumb tack out of the bag and scratching the table with it. I tell him, "Hey Benjamin, that's not good for Mr. Table". The little bed-wetter stops for one minute and starts again.

Then, he tries to inflate the ziploc bag with his breath and pop it. He wasn't successful at that because he couldn't work the ziploc thingy.

Finally, the little booger holds the bag to his mouth and starts breathing in and out really fast. I thought about letting him do this until he passed out but I was feeling like a nice guy and decided otherwise. So, I warned him:

"Hey Benjamin, if you keep doing that, you'll go into respiratory acidosis".

"Where is that?" Benjamin asked.

"That's when the pH of your blood gets so low that your hemoglobin denatures and you get really sick and die", I said.

Benjamin put the bag down and didn't touch again for at least 30 seconds.

I don't know what happened after that because my daughter spoke up and told me I didn't have to stick around any more.

The Last Lecture

Serious blog alert!

If you're feeling foopin' poopy, you should watch this:

Thanks Nicole.

Randy Pausch; nerdy professor, funny guy. He would have had me despite the fact that he has terminal pancreatic cancer.

At first, I was a bit skeptical. After all, isn't it easier to be brave and upbeat when you have cameras filming you, a lecture room of 500+ applauding you and a nation of supporters?

It makes me feel for some of the people I encounter in my volunteer work. They die after being shoved into a corner of a nursing home and have little interaction with anyone in their last days. That scares the hell out of me. If I'm unlucky enough to make it into my late years and I have a mini-stroke or two in the backyard while I'm raking leaves, ain't nobody gonna hear about it.

But this guy fully acknowledges how lucky he is. And, I especially admire that.

His point that resonates with me the most: "If you wait long enough, people will eventually show you their good side." I think I needed to hear that.

Thanks professor.

We can build her

The fine folks at Team Dayton Cycling have made soon possible a new addition to my two wheeled harem.

I introduce to you the soon-to-be "Nana 2.0":

She's a 2006 Fuji Roubaix Pro with carbon fiber stays and fork.

This little cutie sits attached to the uterine pegboard wall of the womb that is my basement corner "bike room". At this stage of her development, she weighs a mere 4 pounds, 12 ounces. If she emerged into the world today, she wouldn't even be able to roll. She's due in June, when she'll have handlebars, wheels, a drivetrain and a saddle. Hopefully, she'll still be sub-16 pounds by then.

She's going to be modeled after Nana 1.0 (my late grandmother) who was light, nimble and had silver highlights.

So, Nana 2.0 will continue to develop for the next weeks as her soon to be Daddy supplies her parts. So, if I seem a bit distant, it's probably because I'm absorbed with this.

Yeah. Some guys sit on the computer with their hands down their pants and watch pornography. That's not my style. I'm on eBay bidding on parts and on Excel Sports comparing gram weights...

...with my hand down my pants.

So...

...today lots of little things were going wrong all at once. Car has a head gasket, staffing problems at work, I ripped one of my favorite shirts, my fanny hurts....

And then, I found this on my bed after I came home:

and I really don't give a foop about all that stuff any more.

Dog-gone

We have great rail trails here in Dayton. You can go anywhere. I use them to get to a cycling-friendly stretch of road where I can train. In this way I can better avoid being smushed by a motorized vehicle.

I have mixed feelings for the trails. During the crappy weather and the winter you have them all to yourself and it's very peaceful, but uncomfortable. On a beautiful day like today you have to share with all the people running, roller blading and walking animals. No worries. It's nice to see people enjoying the outdoors while it still exists. But, it's more work because you have to pass carefully and announce yourself.

Are you still reading? Good. Because I need to vent and you're almost to where I'm gonna try to make my point.

I am very "pro-pet". As a matter of fact, one of my favorite people was a cat. So, if for the next two hundred words or so I sound like a little bitch, it's because I like cats and dogs.

I have witnessed some isolated episodes of major pet owner ineptitude on the rail trails. These idiots represent a small minority of the pet owning population. But, It makes me wonder if to screen them out people should be required to pass some sort of written exam in order to own a pet. Maybe dog or cat owners should be required to have a license much like a license to drive? You have to jump through way more hoops to own a car and that's not even a living thing.

Weeks ago, I saw a guy who had a cat in a harness and was attempting to walk it. Guess how well that worked? If you understand cats you know how well it worked. That was just amusing. No harm or foul.

But what gets my dander up are the 1% of people on the rail trail with rogue dogs. In the past ten days or so, I have almost run over two dogs who were running free.

I know what you're thinking...

Dogs need to be allowed to run free. It's not in their nature to be tied down.

So, I would guess some dog owners are opposed to leashes. That's cool. Take them to the foopin' park where they won't get hurt.

Or, train them. I see a lot of people who are walking with dogs who are free. When I announce myself, they need only utter one syllable to the dog and like a cat on a leash, the dog stops dead in it's tracks. I swear, one time I passed a dog and when the owner said "sit", she stopped, sat, raised her paw to her head and saluted. So, this behavior is very achievable with dogs. I worry about the minority of pet walkers who are complete ass-hats and a danger to the pet itself.

What I saw today really pissed me off. While I was riding the trail, some dude was walking the other way by himself, leash in hand, but no dog. Ostensibly, he thought it was a good idea to set Fido free. The guy motioned for me to stop. I did. In a relatively calm voice, he asked me if I had seen a dog back the other way.

At this moment, my blood almost boiled. Here's why:

This winter, I saw more damn stray dogs than ever. Probably in part because they had a dufus for an owner who allowed them to get lost. They looked cold, unkempt and miserable. I truly didn't know what to do. Feed them? Call animal control? Don't even get me started on people who ditch them because they aren't cute puppies any more.

* grrrrrrrrrrrr... *

I'm no animal behavior expert. But, I know that dogs don't thrive alone in the wild. This is largely because they spend half of their time eating road kill that makes them puke and the other half licking their balls...

Cus, ya know...they can.

Oops. So, back to owner guy who stopped me and and inquired about the whereabouts of his lost dog:

I barked back at him "No, I haven't seen him. But, if he were on that leash, you'd know where he was!" And I rode away.

Dude, if you're reading this, seriously, please...

Let someone responsible adopt your dog. And, I'll buy you a frikkin' Webkin.

That's right, I said "frikkin'"...

Latest Foopin' update

I just got an email from eBay stating that the guy selling the plastic ball from The Aquabats! concert shot down my offer to buy it for $1. I suppose that was a bit of a "low-ball" bid. Arrrrrhhhhhhhh!

Also, I like "Foop" and I’m ready to ride the "foop wave". To my knowledge, I created the word "Foop" on Monday, March 31st. I view it as a more palatable replacement for the vulgar F-word. I’m not a huge fan of that one. I’ve gotten a couple of positive comments about foop and I’m ready to spread the word.

Today, I tried to create an entry for "Foop" in Wikipedia. But, wiki shot down my IP address (I was at work). Must be lots of people adding phony entries from the college.

Foop!

Good dad/bad dad?

I did my bike ride at 7am this morning. So, on the way home from work, I stopped by Fox & Hound, pounded a big Guinness, went home, made dinner, had two more glasses of wine and then my kids want to listen to some music. Who am I to deprive them?

I put on the Aquabats and in two minutes we have a little three person mosh circle going in the living room.

After 20 minutes or so, the living rooms is getting kind of toasty. Naturally, I proceed to take my shirt off and I'm swirling it around over my head kinda like a Pittsburgh Steelers fan with their Terrible Towels.

I performed this at weddings in my younger days. Not to be outdone, my kids did the same thing.

And then it dawns on me:

I may have just taught two innocent little girls how to be strippers.

Foop.

Something tells me I fit right in...

...as a fan of the Aquabats!

Check out this eBay listing:

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=290196190804&ssPageName=STRK:MEWA:IT&ih=019

I think I'll put in a best offer of $1 and see what happens.