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Chewing Necklace

Chewing Necklace

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~~purchase orders accepted for schools, OT centers, etc. just contact me ~~

Silicone chewelry necklace with a safe break away clasp for children with special oral needs. This listing has a faceted oval that measures 1 5/8" in length (see pics for better detail)

The length is 24" and can be easily shortened to meet your needs - check out the video on how to do this.

This style is great for those with a desire for mild - moderate chewing. The bead has passed testing for use and abuse from children 36 - 96 months (3 - 8 years). We do not recommend it for any other age group as the bead could pose a choking hazard to those under 3. It is FDA approved silicone, bpa & phthalate free.

These are a more socially appropriate way to provide oral motor input for kids who crave oral stimulation.

Helps to reduce chewing on clothing, markers, fingers, toys, paper, friends - and more....
Is strung onto a satin cord with a 5lb. rated clasp that will open if pulled on hard.

You can read some of our reviews here:

>~~ Break away safety clasp (clasp is not for chewing on)
>~~ Helps with self regulation, anxiety, oral sensory needs
>~~ Safe for kids and stylish, too!
>~~ 100% food grade silicone

*** Some kids end up chewing on the clasp - if you are concerned about this possibility then I suggest ordering a longer size so that you can tie the necklace back together if the clasp gets ruined by your child. ***

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Monday, March 14, 2011

The random quote

Optimism will make you break and cross mountains
Pessimism will make you look at the mountain and look away
It is upto you
In your life
If you want to be the performer
or just a bored member of the audience.
-Prerana Sastri

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Look at that man on the street !

He sat on the street pavement and watched the cars pass by. Tonight the lights were hurting his eyes. Too much to drink too little to eat perhaps. He wrapped the piece of cloth that he had found today tightly around his shoulders. It was a bitter cold night and one of the worst ones he had faced. Shivering here seemed so ironical because he had all the money to buy a house and sleep under a warm quilt. But if he did that he would despise himself. Every day he saw children throw away half of the food in their plates, he was reminded of his father. Likewise His father never cared about how much money he spent. His father being a diamond dealer had provided his son with all the luxuries life could offer. After his father’s death in a local shootout, the hatred for money started seeping in. At the age of 13 he lay next to his father’s body covered in blood and swore never to touch money all his life. However he gave up by the next week as the stock of groceries ran out.

When he turned sixteen his uncle gave him a big fat envelope of money as his uncle latched the door behind him with his mother inside the room. He wept till his throat hurt, his mom remained silent. He swore never to touch money all his life and failed yet again when his mother was taken to the hospital next night. She poisoned herself and died with the guilt in her heart.

When he was twenty one he finally got richer than most of the people in town. He had the best girls, the best wine and the best clothes than money could offer. With so much of money pumping in his bank account he stopped hating money until one night the hatred hit him back.

He walked into a bar where he saw her. The heavy makeup could not disguise the amount of fear in her eyes. She looked like a scared little kid whose candy was being thrown around by the bigger kids. Only this time it was her dignity being passed around and being messed with. He tried to distract himself by trying to listen to what the tall, beautiful woman was saying. She was his date tonight and Oh the world said she had the most beautiful lips they had ever seen on a woman. Ofcourse He agreed. No matter how hard he tried, his eyes went fetching for the woman he couldn’t get out of his mind. There she stood again, now with a different group of people. He couldn’t take it anymore. He absolutely had to talk to her ! He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss those eyelids. He wanted to tell her that he could be the one to take her away from all of this. He could give her back the smile that was lost in this city. He could bring her back to the life she always dreamed of. As soon as he walked towards her the manager stopped him. He said “don’t try to rescue this one, she’s counting her last few days anyway” And then their eyes met. She smiled at him. They walked out.

Next morning when he watched her bringing him coffee, He couldn’t understand. He tried his best to recollect about the previous night but before he could ask anything she sat on the chair next to his bed, tied her wavy hair into a loose bun and spoke “thanks a lot you know.. No one has been so generous towards me.. I spiked your drinks last night.. I thought I’d do that and rob you and your girlfriend but you guys were so nice to me. I would’ve taken your money to buy myself some more of heaven. You know how heaven works right ? I cant say it out loud because your house is full of those policemen. Oh or maybe those are your servants? I cant really tell. So much of my vision has gone away. So your girlfriend seems to have vanished this morning. Maybe I did scare her. I wanted to buy it so bad! Those buggers have stopped trading it for flesh now. They say im dying and are asking me to stop. I don’t really care though. You know how to count sheep in your sleep? That’s the exact way to die I have learnt. Slowly. Or maybe not”

Before he could get his hands untangled she had already jumped out of his window.

That’s when he decided to quit money. Ofcourse the whole city laughed at the tabloid that stated the same. He couldn’t care less. He moved out of the city and lived inside the tree house that was orphaned by one of the rich kids. Many nights especially like tonight he didn’t have the will to go back to the house. He wanted to watch the cars. He loved the sound. Absolutely.

Who was he anyway ?

A wannabe non-conformist.

A man who didn’t think.

A man with no head.

Yes, many names they called him.

Again, He couldn’t care less.

Had he quit money ? Oh yes.

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Our site : You want to be fashionable so you're considering investing in some accessories for your cell phone. Mobile back cover online should be on the top of your list. These definitely make a cool accessory plus they are made to protect your cell phone from wear and tear. My Channel : More video :
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Dating back to 1759, this building was a part of the interior residence of Karim Khan of Zand. The basic structure of the Karim Khani Nook is similar to the Marble Throne. Like the latter, it is a terrace. There is a small marble throne inside the terrace. The structure is much smaller than the Marble Throne and it has much less ornamentation. There was once a small pond with a fountain in the middle of this terrace. Water from a subterranean stream (the king’s qanat) flowed from the fountain into the pond and was later used to irrigate the palace grounds.

Nasser ol Din Shah was fond of this corner of the Golestan Palace. He is said to have spent much time here in rest and repose, smoking his water-pipe in quite reflection. In fact, some believe that it was Nasser ol Din who dubbed the structure "Khalvat" (nook). It seems extraordinary, but the valuable gravestone of Nasser ol Din Shah finally found its way to this quiet corner of the palace after being misplaced for sometime. This marble stone, with a craved image of Nasser ol Din Shah, is indeed a site to behold.

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T.K, Fahim and Sarker, Md. Zaidul Islam and M.R., Abu Bakar and U.M., Salim and M.B, Awang and Ferdosh, Sahena and Khan Chowdhury, Ahmed Jalal and K.M., Sharif and M.H., Sohrab (2014) Particle formation and micronization using non-conventional techniques- review. Chemical Engineering and Processing: Process Intensification, 86 (2014). pp. 47-52. ISSN 0255-2701

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Tech Review: Razer Kraken Mobile Headphones

If I’m being completely honest, Razer aren’t the first brand that leaps to mind when I think about headphones I’d like to use with my mobile device. Known for producing similar peripherals for use with consoles and gaming PCs, the leap to mobile — particularly with a pair of over-ear cans — represents a bit of an odd one for the company.
The Razer Kraken Mobile’s arrived right before I left on a recent two-day trip to Cairns for a press event. Seeing a perfect opportunity to test them out while in transit, I packed them into my carry-on. This was made easy due to the way the headset folds its mid-sized ear cups neatly into itself for stowing. Considering travel would be high up on the list of “things you’ll probably be doing while using these headphones,” its interesting then that this design features a rather heavy set of cans. Their weight isn’t immediately noticeable when you put them on but after two-and-a-half hours in the air from the Gold Coast to Cairns, my ears had begun to ache a little.

In truth, part of that ache may have come from the volume I had the headphones at for most of the trip and that’s on me. These things can get loud. Surprisingly, even when cranked up to “pressed against the front barrier at a metal festival/3am cat battle” levels of noise, the Razer Kraken Mobiles held their own in terms of sound, keeping distortion to a minimum. The sound these cans can produce is surprisingly good for a gaming headset in its price range.  As a gaming headset, it gives you everything you want: reliable 3D sound, big volume, a reasonable level of outside sound deadening, enhanced bass and drivers that will make the cans shake and rattle. In this regard, the only problem for commuters is that there is a considerable amount of audio bleed which means if you have them cranked, everyone‘s going to know what you’re listening to.

However, the fact that it is a gaming headset first and foremost may be the Razer Kraken Mobile’s greatest challenge as a value proposition. After struggling to think of mobile games that would really push the headset (and again, perhaps this is a personal failing), I put some time into the mobile version of Hearthstone and the headphones acquitted themselves quite well, the game’s cartoony sound effects and voices bouncing around pleasantly.

The thing is, when I’m plugging headphones into my mobile, aside from compulsively checking Avengers Academy which I tell myself I’m playing for a story, I’m mostly planning to use them for music or podcasts. This is where you may well begin to call me an insufferable audio snob and if so, go with my blessing. The sound balance in these the cans means that while bassy musical genres like hip-hop and EDM are well served, just about everything else comes through a bit cluttered. Again, it didn’t become apparent until I was able to listen for a longer period but I found that higher range sound and vocals could become a bit obscured. If backing vocals weren’t towards the front of the mix already, they would become a little lost in the bassy din. I was listening to the Hamilton cast recording on the way up and, for a record that is all about the vocals, the chorus were nearly inaudible more often than they weren’t. Again, if you’re not listening to vocal-heavy music, or you aren’t a picky audiophile like me, then your mileage may vary.  Like I said, EDM in particular sounded genuinely amazing through these cans.

All told, I found the Razer Kraken Mobile’s to be a bit of an odd creature. Neither a fish nor a fowl, they nevertheless acquit themselves well when asked to perform. The challenge to find something on your mobile device to really put them through their paces may be a hurdle but there are plenty of people who simply won’t care when they sound this nice.

Review Score: 7.5 out of 10
Highlights: Sleek design; Great sound for games
Lowlights: Feels a touch heavy after a while; Some musical genres ill-served by bassy EQ
Manufacturer: Razer Inc.
Platform: iOS, Android (cable sold separately), will work with your PC or Mac just fine


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Free Software is great!

I just created an updated youtube video of DS and used VirtualDub and Audacity for this, two great pieces of software. Just wanted to say thanks to the authors with this blog post. (The fact that the video is crap is basically my own fault ;) )
Btw, the author of Virtualdub blogs interesting stuff from time to time and is using the same (also open source) blogging software like I am using on this blog.

three comments, already:

I can totally agree on that. I do also love free software, I used audacity for the band I play in (to record the songs we work on during rehearsal), but I swithed to an old Cubase version from eBay a while ago … more features I needed (or wanted), but I still use a lot of free software and free programming libs (you know which one i’m talking of i guess ;) ).
Brainsaw (link) - 09 06 08 - 07:56

look this project
master_zion (link) - 10 06 08 - 03:15

Hmm … this looks good, but I just need on very special feature that I haven’t yet found in any free Sequencer (but in my old Cubase VST 5): I need MTC sync to sync the sequencer to my HD-Recorder for backups.
Brainsaw (link) - 10 06 08 - 07:57

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capital gains tax

Tax Planning: What to Consider When You’re Thinking Of Selling Your Business

Tax Planning: What to Consider When You’re Thinking Of Selling Your Business

One of the key issues for business owners planning to retire or sell a business centres on how best they plan their tax liability. To maximise the best outcome business owners should plan well in advance. In our experience, it is never too early to consider financial planning and whilst ‘younger’ businesses may not place this at the top of the agenda right now, the reality is that planning at an early stage can be structured to help with current tax liabilities as well as those on retirement or sale. Capital Gains Tax Both Capital Gains Tax (CGT) and Inheritance Tax (IHT) need to be considered carefully as part of the planning exercise and examined in close detail – without appropriate planning for these two very real scenarios business owners might find themselves or their ‘estate’, handi... »

Family Businesses Unaware of Inheritance and Capital Gains Tax Liabilities

A third of family-business owners are unaware of their domestic inheritance tax and capital gains tax (CGT) liabilities, research from PricewaterhouseCoopers (PwC) has found. In PwC’s survey of more than 1,600 family-owned small and medium-sized businesses across 35 countries, two thirds of UK firms were also unaware of the international inheritance tax or CGT that they could incur, typically by owning premises abroad.  According to the poll, many UK firms are less well-prepared than their global counterparts. In Spain, 91% of firms were aware of their domestic Capital Gains Tax implications, while 85% of Brazilian firms and 73% in Germany were up to speed on their tax exposure. Mary Monfries, tax partner at PwC, said the results were “concerning”, saying: “Tax charges incurred throu... »

Capital Gains Tax Rise will Deter Small-business Investment

Financiers may be deterred from investing in small firms if the Government increases Capital Gains Tax (CGT) on non-business assets as expected in the emergency Budget on 22 June, the Institute of Directors (IoD) has warned. The coalition Government has already outlined plans to increase CGT on non-business assets from 18% to 40 or 50%. This would increase the levy on the profit individuals make when they sell second homes or other assets. It would also raise the tax rate on shares and securities, which represent a large proportion of business investment. According to the IoD, reintroducing taper relief would give an incentive to invest in businesses over the long term. “Investors such as business angels may be deterred by the expected rise in CGT, and unless you introduce a scheme l... »

Stamp Duty Land Tax - Budget 210 - GT

Budget 2010

Introduction Alistair Darling’s third budget, Budget 2010, is the last budget before the next General Election, the last budget of the current parliament. Budget 2010 is the first budget since the UK has emerged from possibly the worst global recession in 60 years. »

Chancellor of the Exchequer, Alistair Darling, will deliver his first budget on March 12th

Budget 2008 Date Announced

Chancellor of the Exchequer, Alistair Darling, will deliver his first budget on March 12th. »

Finally, Darling, a Capital Gains Tax Decision

At last, Alistair Darling makes up his mind on Capital Gains Tax. »

Capital Gains Tax Concession, Darling?

Alistair Darling, Chancellor of the Exchequer, has made indications that the government will make some concessions on Capital Gains Tax (CGT) reform over the next few weeks. In early October Alistair Darling announced changes to both Corporation Tax and Capital Gains Tax, hoping to simplify the system with a 2% cut in Corporate Tax, a  single 18% CGT rate and an end to taper relief. Instead, Mr Darling angered many small businesses and incurred the wrath of the CBI, with an open letter to Mr Darling expressing the potential damage to the country’s many enterprising small businesses. In a speech to the CBI conference on Tuesday Mr Darling continued to defend his position, once again relying upon his insistence that the tax system will be simplified as a result of his actions... »

Capital Gains Tax move “Undermines Enterprise”

Small Business News – 11th October 2007 Hot on the heels of the Chancellor’s first Pre-Budget Report comes a response from the Confederation of British Industry (CBI). This morning (Thursday) CBI Director-General Richard Lambert sent an open letter to Alistair Darling, Chancellor of the Exchequor, expressing the business group’s deep concerns over changes to Capital Gains Ta/business-advice/finance-and-money/budget-2013-annual-tax-rates-and-allowances/capital-gains-tax.htmlx as announced in the PBR. The letter chiefly states that the change in Capital Gains Tax… "undermines the 10 year effort by this government to promote enterprise and risk-taking within the UK." Undersigned by a number of members of the CBI including Steve Sharratt, Chairman of the CBI&#... »

Darling’s first Pre-Budget Report

The Chancellor, Alistair Darling, has delivered his Comprehensive Spending Review and Pre-Budget Report, but is there anything within his main points of particular relevance to British business? Firstly, he revised downwards the growth rate of the economy next year from 2.5%-3% to between 2% and 2.5% but expects growth to be around 3% in the year 2009/2010, saying that despite recent worldwide economic events, including increased raw material costs and financial uncertainty, the British economy remains strong. He stated that he intends to simplify the tax system, thereby allowing half a million business to function easier and save businesses £1,000,000 a year, though with no details of quite how he is going to do so as yet. The main rate (full rate) of Corporation Tax (Corporate Tax)... »


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Tuesday, May 20, 2014

My Way ... Liza Gresse

Liza Gresse shines with a warm and luminous wisdom. She brings a sparkle to life and the business environment ... and she does it "her way". Her passion for learning, entrepreneurship and the vibrant beauty of life inspires creativity, big picture thinking and authenticity. Liza moves beyond the goals she set for herself with extraordinary achievements in a world that sings with Neil Armstrong:
I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world

"iStart2 have much more fun!" - Liza Gresse

We chatted to Liza about Sustainable Leadership, climate change and the things we can do to make a difference in creating a more sustainable world. Liza conveys a sense of hope and inspiration: "I am passionate about living in nature and connecting spiritually to what this beautiful planet offers us".

Visit www.ubuhlehr.co.za to get in touch with Liza Gresse.

To listen to the show, just click play:

Thought for the day:

Tune in at 17h30 to the iStart2 Show on Radio Today 1485 AM in Jozi, Nationally on DSTV Audio Channel 869 or worldwide on www.1485.org.za. Show hosted by Pierre du Toit and the beautiful Keitu Gwangwa. The show is broadcast every Monday at 17h30 and repeated on Thursdays at 17h30 (SA Time).


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Monday, July 27, 2015

The Personal Turnaround System ... Shirley Roeloffze

Shirley Roeloffze's successful journey from her own turmoil and pain to peace as well as her profound insight into human thinking, emotions and spirituality all enable her to offer realistic solutions to people battling with conflict, unhappiness and catastrophic loss.

Very unusually, part of her consulting experience included being invited by the Abu Dhabi Government (United Arab Emirates) to spend three years conducting executive training in transformational thinking as a major strut in the Government's modernisation programme. She enjoyed the unexpected situation of being a white English-speaking female (from Africa) impacting on the thinking of (mostly male) Arabic-speaking Muslims and receiving in exchange the utmost courtesy and helpfulness.

"iStart2 laugh at difficult situations and at the drama in front of me"
- Shirley Roeloffze

We chatted to Shirley about her book "The Personal Turnaround System - How to move from turmoil to peace and enjoy the journey". This book is extraordinarily helpful in enabling the reader to move from turmoil and pain to a sustainable sense of peace.

If people are drowning in frequent arguments and misunderstandings; or suffering frustration and disappointment with family, friends and co-workers; or are buried in catastrophic loss, this book will help them move to peace even in the middle of the anguish. In a surprisingly personal and friendly way, this book engages the reader and accompanies him or her as they unfold new understanding that can dramatically change their lives for the better.

To listen to the show, click play below:

Pierre du Toit and Keitu Gwangwa host the iStart2 Show on Thursdays at 17h30 (GMT+2). Radio Today broadcasts on 1485AM in Johannesburg and nationally on DSTV audio channel 869. Radio Today also streams on its website and on Radio Today the station that cares. Radio that delivers!

Thought of the Day

iStart2Sing now available on iTunes!
This beautiful cd available for downloading on iTunes:

 iStart2Sing - The Soul of Africa

The iStart2Sing (The Soul Of Africa) CD compilation is a wonderful and enlightening journey through a diverse South African musical landscape. The compilation combines subtlely stated wisdoms and insights with dynamic and entertaining songs.

iStart2Sing Official Video

Music Festival in the Netherlands:

iStart2 Ambassadors, Karin Hougaard and Pops Mohamed are amongst a wonderful line-up of South African artists who will be performing in the Netherlands during August 2015. Read all about it:


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Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Slowly Recuperating

I have been sick for over two weeks.

It sucks. Big time.

Get your flu shots, people, because this is the worst. My doctor's office wasn't able to get enough supplies so I couldn't get Mine this year and I am deeply regretting not trying to find another place to get one. I figured, since I work from home, that My risk was low and I could probably get away with skipping it.

I've been either in bed or, on really good days, on the couch for most of the time I've been sick. Bless My roommate for being willing to bring Me soup and NyQuil when he's home and keep me stocked up on tissues.

Last night, I was finally feeling well enough to live tweet The Flash and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Today, I'm managing this blog post. Go Me! With any luck, I'll be able to take calls on NiteFlirt again very soon.

Of course, you always have the option to call My ignore line. I'm happy to drain your wallet at any time of the day or night while you listen to My congested snoring. It's all you deserve anyway. Or, you can make yourself useful by sending Me cash and gifts to brighten My day.

Whichever method you decide to use, you should get to tributing right now. Hurry up, meat puppets. I know you have a desperate need to feel that paper sliding through your fingers. That tiny trouser worm of yours is quivering with anticipation already.

Just do it.

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Thursday, September 30, 2010

Phils Birthday (for real this time)

I took the boys into the office to visit Phil for his birthday! Luke picked out some ballons and was so happy about them!

We brought lunch and had a picnic in his office. The ladies in Phil's office brought in food and a cake for his birthday. They even made a 30th birthday sign for his door! Micah had his first taste of pineapple!

Phil has two computers on his desk so I joked about him using just the laptop and how funny it looked right next to the desktop. So then he told me that he uses BOTH at the same time and drags things from one screen to the other! Silly me.

Phil wanted me to take this one so his mom can see his two diplomas hanging on the wall together. We have a lot invested in those two pieces of paper. I am glad they have a place of honor!

We are thinking about painting the lower part of the wall below the chair rail IU red. The office has some pretty tall ceilings and I think the red would look great. What do you think?

Look What Big Baby Can Do!

Yes, that is a standing baby! He pulled himself up all on his own twice in a row. I was peeling potatoes in the kitchen when I saw him! I can't wait to tell Phil!

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

8 Months Young

Baby Micah is 8 months!

Now that he is crawling so well the remote control is toast!

He loves that it lights up.

There are a few foods that he likes:

chicken bones

it's the perfect thing for him right now. Lot's of good marrow and meat for baby.

as you can see (and know from experience if you have a meal with us lately) he would prefer to feed himself.

He fusses at the table unless he has small bits of food to feed himself. I think that his favorite food to feed himself is little cooked broccoli florets. He can pick them up with his pinchers (thumb and pointer finger and put it right in his mouth) I am amazed that he can do that AND that he likes broccoli.

Micah prefers to drink out of a straw! One day he got a hold of big brothers cup and before I could stop him he was sucking out of the straw like an old pro! That first time was over 2 months ago and ever since he prefers the straw to the sippy cup. Yet another thing that surprises and amazes me.

Luke was eating his breakfast this morning at the counter and baby Micah was trying to climb his chair to get to him! He does not want to get left behind...

I couldn't tell if Micah was just trying to get to Luke or get to his granola and milk breakfast?

Luke is NOT amused.

In fact Luke spent most of his morning up on this stool just to get away! After he finished eating he started doing a puzzle. I had to coax him down to get dressed!

While Luke was getting dressed in the bathroom Micah had crawled (he is so fast) back to Luke's room and found big brothers water again! Is he a rascal on purpose?

I suspect so?

His lower front teeth seem to be all the way in now and his upper incisors are halfway in too! We call him fang since his front teeth are not in yet. I heard a funny noise coming from his room 2 nights ago and realized that he was clicking his teeth together. A horrible sound! And he is a biter...especially when nursing. I have done all of the things that are suggested to get their attention and stop but they have not worked with him. He thinks that they are funny and that he is so funny. Some days I feel like "just give this kid a cup with a straw and call it a day" Luke was SO not like this.

While I was finding Micah and dealing with him, Luke found the themometer and was practicing using it in his mouth in the living room. I ended up letting him so that the next time he is sick he will understand what I mean when I say "put this under your tongue"

Micah loves to play and is desperate to play with big brother no matter what the game. Luke mostly just pesters little brother but Micah actually likes the attention...even if it is rough! I have to separate them a lot because Micah is trying to get Luke and Luke is trying to get away. Recently Luke crawled into the pack n' play just to get away from the crawler. Luke also picks up his toys if Micah is headed toward them and throws them behind the hallway gate and locks the door. Then Micah crawls to the gate and starts shaking it and yelling. Micah just wants to play with the big kid toys. He can even zoom a truck on the carpet!

Micah is growing even though we are not sure of his weight. His dresser is again filled with clothes that are too small. He needs 24 month sized pants because his waist and thighs are so large. He has grown out of his infant swing and it is time to pack it up! I feel like that it too soon! My baby is no longer a baby. Certainly not if he is wearing 24 month clothing.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Kitchen Cabinet Makeover

We have been busy making over our kitchen cabinets.

Our house is 10 years old and the original builder installed basic wood cabinetry in an oak finish. Even as I am looking at this photo I see that there is nothing really wrong with our kitchen. The problem is that although the cabinet doors are wood, the exposed sides of the cabinets are faux wood. Yep, they are pressed paper board with a picture of wood grain stuck to the board. The oaks just do not match. They are close but I can tell.

And that was bothering me.

See the underside of the bar? That is all faux wood. You can really see in this photo. It reflects differently than real wood.

So it looks fine but it kind of bores me. Since we have a fairly small kitchen I wanted a more cottage look. I thought that the easiest thing to do would be to paint the cabinets a creamy white similar to my dining furniture and kitchen bar stools.

Remember my dining room and new tile? The kitchen wants to be more up to speed with this adjoining room.

While Phil was in the final stages of bar studying, I was deconstructing the kitchen...

It started harmlessly enough. I removed all of the cabinets doors and hardware.

I considered getting new hardware but after reading about my friend Jessica's kitchen cabinet makeover I decided that it would be cheaper to give the hardware its own inexpensive makeover. I laid out all of the hardware: hinges and drawer pulls.

I chose an antique oiled bronze finish spray paint (it matches the chandelier)

and sprayed all hardware.

After the bar was over, we tackled priming and painting the cabinet doors. I thought this would be the easy part since Young House Love makes it seem that way. Such a hard thing for us perfectionists to do!

Now priming and painting the actual cabinets.

This project is quickly taking over our house and lives!

A key feature to this makeover is covering up the faux wood paneling.

We installed paintable beadboard paneling under the bar when we laid the floor. It looks so much better already!

Now that everything is painted I wanted to go a step further and "antique" everything...I must have lost my mind?

So in the last 2 months we have FINALLY gone from here:

to here:

We are really happy with the results except for one little hang up...

the stain that I am using for the antique treatment is Bombay Mahogany. My test sample looked great so I went ahead and antiqued all of the doors except for the two largest. It was getting late in the night and the smell was getting to me. So I went to bed and tackled the final doors a few days later. I should have never waited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't know what happened but my stain is not "antiquing" consistently with my previous attempts. The first attempt was very subtle and creamy and the mahogany is really showing through on the final 2 doors. Mahogany is not creamy or subtle, it is RED! So now I have 2 pinky cabinet doors and I am not sure if I will be able to remedy the problem since the first application must have been a fluke!?

See the difference between the left and right side doors? The left is the pink one.

I am stumped and so ready to have my kitchen and garage back. I feel like has turned into a disaster and part of me wishes I had just left it all alone in the first place! Ack! Another part of me is so fed up and frustrated that I feel like ordering all new cabinets and starting over from scratch. Since, the latter is NOT an option at this point I will just keep fussing and hopefully something will work out? My perfection is really being tested on this one. I guess stretching is a good thing?

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Virginia Friends I - Washington D.C.

Labor Day weekend we visited our friends Peter, Tina, and Gioia McNeilly in Stafford Virginia. Peter is a Marine Jag officer and has been participating in TBS training in Quantico Virgina at Camp Barrett. He is actually almost done with his training and is waiting to hear where in the U.S. he will be stationed next! It is an exciting time for them and we are all very proud of what Peter has been doing and what he has accomplished. They only live about a half hour drive from the Franconia/Springfield Metro stop. Saturday morning we all met there and got on the metro and headed into D.C.

It was so GOOD to see them! All 3.

Micah's first Metro trip!

4 adults and 3 strollers
D.C. here we come!

The Capitol

The Washington Monument

The McNeillys in front of the capitol

and the Washington Monument. It was windy but such a beautiful day!

Tina packed us all a lunch and we ate it near a fountain by the National Archives.

Gioia loves D.C!

Peter is so tough looking?! He has done some crazy and unbelievable things in TBS. They have both been through a lot and we are glad that TBS is almost over.

Tina and I wanted to visit the Smithsonian and see the First Lady Dresses exhibit and Julia Childs kitchen. It took some coercing to get the guys on board but they humored us and viewed the kitchen but when it was time to see the dresses they were suddenly gone. Oh well. Their lose. Tina and I LOVED seeing the dresses. They even had Michelle Obamas gown from the latest Inaugural Ball!

I posed in front of Julia's kitchen. She donated it to the Smithsonian. It is recreated to the T. It even has her decorative cats on top of the fridge!

Phil and I really wanted to see the WWII monument. I had never seen it before and Phil had only seen it in the early spring without the water running. It was quite the sight!

Behind me are stars and each star represents 100 U.S. deaths! Look how many there are.

I was feeling really emotional about the monument because I had just finished reading "Coming Home" by Rosamund Pilcher. It is historical fiction set before, during and after WWII.

The monument is located directly in line with the Lincoln and Washington monuments. Phil said that people were upset about this because it changes the look of the mall. I think it makes the monument more special that you can see all 3 monuments together.

We were not really sure why so many people were getting into the fountain in the middle of the monument since there were many signs that said to stay out of the fountain? It was weird to see people sitting on the edge of the fountain with their feet in the water right next to a sign. It made me realize that people are not as respectful as they used to be or as I think they should be. It actually made me mad. Maybe because I had just read that book or maybe because we were walking around with a Marine and we were proud of him?

From here we wandered up to Georgetown to visit the cupcake shop! Read about that here. And then our trip to Williamsburg here.
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Sunday, April 23, 2006

Islands In-Store @ Soundfix

So I attended the Islands in-store performance at Soundfix Records in Williamsburg, Brooklyn yesterday afternoon (the show was actually in the cafe attached to the rear of the store). Nicholas Thorburn, lead singer/guitarist, started the show off by announcing that the band had only just woken up 20 minutes before they arrived at the store, so everyone in the band was downing coffee & muffins. It was a light and airy atmosphere in the cafe, with the band joking around a lot and Alex (or Sebastian) was really rocking out with his violin. The band played through 5 or 6 songs (my memory is shot from a night out at Mugs, Barcade, and Vera Cruz), all of which sounded great and the band headed out to make some last minute purchases at the record shop. Overall it was a great show, the band was a lot of fun even though they were all exhausted. You can see more of my photos from the show below:

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Friday, February 23, 2007

Woo-hoo! Beirut & Bowery Attempt #2!

Okay I just got home from work and turned on my reminders and saw joyous news in the upcoming shows section!!! Beirut is playing two shows at the Bowery Ballroom in May, and tickets were still available! I had tickets for his show at the BB back in November of last year and was mortified when I heard the shows were canceled!

So I just grabbed a couple, and wanted to get the word out for all of you! The two shows are listed below, along with links to buy the tickets!! (can you tell I'm excited!)

Sunday - May 6th - Tickets $16
Monday - May 7th - Tickets $16

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Lillian Dickson Quote

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Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once.  - Lillian Dickson
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Cling to thy native land, for it is the land of thy fathers?

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The Holy Mouth Men of the Nacirema

Speaking of crazy, some academic on Facebook suggested that the central theme of Bishop's "In the Waiting Room" is dentistry. Granted, Bishop comments upon cross-cultural approaches to feminine beauty and its painful consequences--but a central trope? Then, last night I was reading some of the Harriet blogposts and it was like pulling teeth. And then I thought, wait a minute, the dentist tries to make your teeth Whiter and Straighter. Gasp: the dentist promotes White Heteronormative Hegemony! The dentist is complicit with the Imperial Project just as much as Neoliberalism, Anthropology, and Jane Austen!

As you know, Hoagland defended his poem by saying that he writes "for his tribe." Most assumed that he meant White People. Since I posted last, I was able to purchase a strand of his vanishing hair on Ebay and I did a genealogical DNA test on it. I discovered that Hoagland actually descends from a little known North American tribe called the "Nacirema."

In his authoritative ethnography, Horace Minor described the shrines dedicated to body ritual in a Nacireman household. Fortunately for us, Minor was able to establish sufficient rapport with the natives to gain access to their cultural secrets. Excerpts from Minor's ethnography:

The focal point of the shrine is a box or chest which is built into the wall. In this chest are kept the many charms and magical potions without which no native believes he could live. These preparations are secured from a variety of specialized practitioners. The most powerful of these are the medicine men, whose assistance must be rewarded with substantial gifts.  However, the medicine men do not provide the curative potions for their clients, but decide what the ingredients should be and then write them down in an ancient and secret language. This writing is understood only by the medicine men and by the herbalists who, for another gift, provide the required charm...

Beneath the charm-box is a small font. Each day every member of the family, in succession, enters the shrine room, bows his head before the charm-box, mingles different sorts of holy water in the font, and proceeds with a brief rite of ablution. The holy waters are secured from the Water Temple of the community, where the priests conduct elaborate ceremonies to  make the liquid ritually pure...

The daily body ritual performed by everyone includes a mouth-rite. Despite the fact that these people are so punctilious about care of the mouth, this rite involves a practice which strikes the uninitiated stranger as revolting. It was reported to me that the ritual consists of inserting a small bundle of hog hairs into the mouth, along with certain magical powders, and then moving the bundle in a highly formalized series of gestures...

The Nacirema have an almost pathological horror of and fascination with the mouth, the condition of which is believed to have a supernatural influence on all social relationships...They also believe that a strong relationship exists between oral and moral characteristics. For example, there is a ritual ablution of the mouth for children which is supposed to improve their moral fiber...

Recall Bishop's questions: Why should you be one, too? Why should I be me or anyone? What similarities hold us all together or makee us all just one? How--I didn't know any word for it--how unlikely?

Minor also notes that the Nacirema had "Holy-Mouth-Men," who  "[exorcised] the evils of the mouth" through "ritual torture." A gruesome description of this ritual follows (don't read if you have a faint constitution):

The holy-mouth-man open the clients mouth and, using the above mentioned tools, enlarges any holes which decay may have created in the teeth. Magical materials are put into these holes. If there age no naturally occurring holes in the teeth, large sections of one or more teeth are gouged out so that the supernatural substance can be applied...The extremely sacred and traditional character of the rite is evident in the fact that the natives return to the holy--mouth-men year after year, despite the fact  that their teeth continue to decay.

Is it possible? Can it be? Is Tony Hoagland a Contemporary Nacireman Holy-Mouth Man? Were these Holy-Mouth Men  like poets who exorcise the evils of whiteness through the mouth of the poem, through the ritual torture that is reading a Hoagland poem?

There it is, citizens, sitting there, for use.

[source: Horace Miner, "Body Ritual among the Nacirema." The American Anthropologist, vol. 58 (1956), pp. 503-507.]


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Tuesday, March 24, 2009

The Long Way Back -- Alone

Riding a motorcycle is a solitary activity, even if you are sharing it with up to three other riders, which is what I consider the best number for a group ride. Yet I cannot deny finding the illusion of greater security in another solitary headlight dancing behind me, or the glowing cigar-stub of taillight in front of me. Since either of those are likely to belong to riding partners I trust, like, and even admire on rare occasions, there is a kind of security in numbers. This is a false sense of security, however, as a deer, a dollop of grease, a drunk, a momentary distraction or even a sudden mechanical failure like a blowout, can pass over one while anointing another. And headlines have reported the stories of a bike going down and taking part of the club formation with it. These are the times when that element of security lies in getting quick assistance -- either with mechanical expertise or medical attention -- from a riding partner.

Too bad motorcycle riding doesn’t begin with a guarantee of assistance, reassurance, nor absolution.

Many riders who routinely traverse the country, or the globe, are accustomed to carrying the majority of their foreseeable needs in saddle bags, top cases, and tank bags. They are their own assistance. But solo riding mile-after-mile also forces an individual to take stock of what’s in his or her mind and heart. I have discovered that solitary riding offers a unparalleled opportunity to think of things I will write and say; words that I should have written and said; and thoughts that should never have been expressed considering the hurt they caused or other consequences they spawned. Riding alone over long distances requires that you be comfortable with yourself. It can set your emotions free, and from time to time, the demons too.

The taillight competing with broad daylight on the road ahead of me belonged to Ricky Matz, one of five lifelong friends from high school. There was a time when Ricky was only one of two other people I knew who rode motorcycles. Two years later (1976), we rode our bikes into a remote part of backwoods America, where Ricky hooked me up with “Laura The Animal,” a perfectly proportioned woman built on the scale of the Stature of Liberty.

My old pal from high school Ricky Matz, on his new Yamaha FJR1300, which
replaced the Honda in this story. Note Ricky's expression matches the one on his bike.
(Photo courtesy of Rick Matz -- Click to enlarge.)

There was considerable evidence that Laura had been raised in the wild and that I was the first human she had ever seen. According to Ricky, she could use her lips to remove the fur from a rabbit. I assumed this was a euphemistic way of expressing that my luck had changed. Then I discovered Laura carried a wallet made from a pelt that she had chewed off a rabbit earlier in the day. She had a good heart though, and had let the rabbit go after she gotten its hide.

Ricky had been with me most recently (2006) in Maggie Valley, North Carolina for my first participation in an event known to the biker elite as “The BuRP Rally.” (BuRP is an an acronym that stands for the “Blue Ridge Parkway, and You.) It was a long distance run for me, about 425 miles, as I was coming from the Philadelphia area. (The details of the BuRP Rally are presented in previous installments of this blog, generally preceded by the word, “chapter.” There were six in all.) But very little of the ride down counted as solo mileage. I had been escorted by Wayne Whitlock and his wife Lucy for all but 150 miles of the way.

The ride home would be a different story.

Now many of you routinely ride much greater distances than this by yourself -- and under very challenging circumstances. BMW riders openly laugh at 425 miles and will spit in my coffee if given the opportunity. This distance is nothing to Mac-Pac riders like Edde Mendez (Morocco to Philly by heading east -- 39,000 miles in 11 months), or Doug Raymond (Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Circle in Alaska from Philly and back n 13 days), or Kimi Bbush (a Red Butt ride of 1000 miles in 19 hours), or the Sorensens (Philly to Colorado in two and a half days), or Jim Robinson, who does 700 miles a day with his eyes closed (which explains his injuries). But it was a long ride to me: an overweight, shapeless, damp Wonder Bread-kind of re-entry rider, who had originally begun this trip swearing not to ride in the dark, on the interstates, nor in the rain.

On this occasion, the farthest I had ridden was 225 miles in a day, under the watchful eye of my friend Wayne, on this very trip!

I’d had to leave the BuRP rally early to guarantee I’d make the BMW Motorcycle Owners of Americas’ rally in Burlington, Vermont later that same weekend. Plagued by vicious arthritis in my knees plus the fact that my bike was an 18-year-old BMW K75, I was giving myself plenty of time to get home. Ricky had recently moved to Erwin, Tennessee and was riding point with me as far as Johnson City in that same state.

Riding a motorcycle on the sweepers of Interstate 26 through North Carolina and Tennessee was the closest I have ever come to hang gliding along the ground. The scenery is much better than you would expect from a super-slab. The road surface was superb and the traffic below Johnson City was non-existent on a July weekday morning. Ricky is an excellent rider and tends to hold the needle at 70 mph, or so. (He has an allergy to cops.) Those gently sweeping curves dove into valleys like dive bombers and exited the far end in breathtakingly graceful parabolas. The few trucks we passed were spouting black rage like steam locomotives or giving off vapors of regret from red hot brakes.

Ricky was mounted on a huge 18,000cc Honda cruiser. Having more than double the cc’s and an additional 200 pounds in iron and chrome gave him a whopping 20 horsepower advantage over my vintage bike. This meant he had to downshift less (the exhausting process by which one moves the left foot an inch or two in conjunction with squeezing the left hand) on 80 miles of hills. Ricky’d covered the Honda’s chrome headlight and handlebars with green electrical tape to cut back on the glare that was frying his eyes by coming up underneath his sunglasses. His machine ate the mountains effortlessly. My aging K75 (Blue Balls, with the Sprint Fairing) followed like a Messerschmidt with a boner. Its distinctive BMW whine was loud in my helmet (though not as loud as one of Laura’s whispers), but there was no vibration in my handlebars, a claim my riding partner couldn’t make.

We passed Ricky’s town, Erwin (named after the great Confederate General Erwin Corey), and pulled over for lunch at a chain restaurant in Johnson City. I dawdled over southern fried something, hush puppies, French fries, and a fried quart of sweet tea. Kidding myself that I was savoring the air conditioning, I knew I was just putting off the final segment of an adventure in which I would be my own company for the next 450 miles.

Stepping back out into the tropical heat of the parking lot, the sweat I had saved by sitting in the air conditioning gushed through my pores, gluing my cheap Icon Gear mesh jacket to my bloated frame. Two ravens and a vulture were sitting on my bike. A black cat ran between my legs and a hag believed to be one of the harpies from the opening scene of “MacBeth” let out a cackle.

“Have a good ride back,” said Ricky, extending his hand.

I have often remarked that farewells in motion are the best, but they never do justice to the occasion. It was a difficult left turn out of the parking lot onto a service road, and I caught a glimpse of Ricky tossing me a wave, or the middle finger, and he evaporated in traffic. A sharp right brought me back to I-26 and the reality of dueling with heavy truck traffic.

There was no bullshit here. I opened up the throttle and went left. My arthritis clock was ticking and the purpose of taking the slab was to generate maximum miles in minimum time. By the time I’d hit I-81, I’d had already gone more than 100 miles since leaving Maggie Valley, and hadn’t even put a dent in this trip yet.

There is some element of competition when you ride with a pal. The terms of that competition vary. It may have to do with a little line dancing or it might it just be in matching riding styles. The freedom from having to keep up with a leader, or watching out for the guy behind you, lets your mind free to wander somewhat -- when you are not absolutely focused on the road. And it does seem as if you develop a sixth sense that watches the road.

It was 1pm and I had a dream of doing 450 miles in this one day. I envisioned the way my club -- the dreaded Mac-Pac -- would look at me in admiration, and how some women would lift up their tops as I walked with a swagger. That reverie was shattered by a stone that landed dead center on the top of my helmet. It was like having a shotgun go off in your head, without having it come apart. I went into the first rest area on the interstate to check the damage to my helmet. The Nolan had come through without a chip or a scratch. Quite frankly, I expected to find it cracked. Had the helmet been a windshield, I’m sure it would have broken. I couldn’t help but think what could have happened to someone if they had been riding helmet-free.

This was one of my surviving wedding pictures.
Here my mother-in-law (front) delivers her daughter to the church.
(Photo courtesy of the Auto-Da-Fe -- Click to burn her at the stake.)

The summer heat settled like a mother-in-law’s curse. Trucks were running in herds on I-81, adding to the heat and stirring it. The line of my upper lip acted like a gutter, channeling sweat from my face to the corners of my mouth. I stopped at every rest area, averaging 50 to 60 miles between stops, buying water and cold diet soda (rich in phosphates and neutronium). While it felt good to extend my legs, getting on and off the bike was becoming painful. I realized there was a finite number of mounts and dismounts I could expect of these tortured knees. (These were the days when I was walking without a cane.)

This K75 was my beloved “Blue Balls,” which sported the rare Sprint fairing. It lent a very distinctive look to a bike that started out as ugly as a bowling shoe. I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t taking a large degree of pride in pulling up to these rest areas on a feisty, 18-year-old German whirlwind. I was basking in that pride when a guy parked next to me someplace in Virginia. He was riding a fire engine-red 1986 Honda, also in mint condition.

My Beloved Blue Balls -- RIP, 1986 K75 with Sprint Fairing
(Photo by Leslie Marsh -- Click to enlarge)

He was a nice guy and made a big deal over my bike, which sentiment I was forced to return, despite the fact he had just unintentionally shit all over my parade.

“Where did you start out from today,” he asked.

I phrased my answer in such away as to pack a little extra punch in each word.

“Well, I had breakfast in North Carolina this morning and swung up this way through Tennessee.”

“Wow,” he said, enthusiastically! “I had my breakfast yesterday in Houston.”

“The Houston that is in Texas,” I queried.

“That’s the one!”

Why is it that every time I get comfortable thinking something, some son of a bitch shows up with something else that is either bigger or longer than mine?

This guy and I played tag for the next three hours pulling in and out of various rest stops. He took off at one where I couldn’t ride the bike right up to the soda machine, and so I spent some time sitting at a picnic table, smoking a cigar that had the same approximate dimensions as a bus muffler.

It was here that a small child pointed at me, saying to his mom, “Look how fat that man is!”

This hell-spawn’s mother glanced at me and replied, “Don’t say that, Beau. Fat people don’t like to be told how fat they are.”

I almost called after them, “And your mom’s huge quivering ass qualifies her as an expert on the subject.”

Miles filtered through the odometer like grains of sand passing through the hour glass at the Inquisition. It had just scored a total of 310 miles for the day, when I decided I’d had enough. I checked into a motel that had a little chain restaurant in front, with the rooms in a separate building about three hundred feet behind. My only requirement was a room on the first floor with parking outside the door. Imagine my surprise to find the Honda on the centerstand  in the space next to mine.

Such was my fatigue, however, that dinner was three cans of Diet Coke from the vending machine and a pint of rum from my saddle bags. I never left the room once my boots were off. (I got the soda in my bare feet.)

The rain hitting the window was my wake-up call early the next morning. Every part of my body was stiff but one. A glance out the curtains revealed the Honda was gone. I opted not to ride in the rain, but to hook up my computer and spend the day working from the hotel. The possibility that my decision not to ride was somehow connected to an inner fear troubled me. I rode the bike down to the restaurant for breakfast, noting the spray coming off the front wheel. The road was wetter than the atmosphere, which was starting to lighten up.

The rain stopped in the early afternoon, and despite the grayness of the day, I opted to get on the road. This was a big deal for me. I generally give riding the pass if there is even a remote chance of getting caught in bad weather. But I felt so eager to be on the road that I knew luck would be with me. (It was, but it wasn't the sort of luck you can do much with.) “Blue Balls” blew into a heavy drizzle an hour later, and slid like a greased turd when I pulled up at a gas pump. That was a clue I had missed.

Sooner or later, you just make the decision to deal with things. I decided not to try and squeeze into rain gear that would be ghastly hot. It was very warm in the breeze at 65 mph and the road spume actually felt good. I pulled into one rest area with the rain at its peak and found a guy on a magnificent K1200GT with a custom trailer in tow. He was on his way to the BMW Rally in Vermont.

“Me too,” I said.

He looked very skeptical, as if a three-legged stool had announced it was going to do an oil painting. “Where’d you start from,” this bastard asked.

“Houston, two days ago... The one in Texas," I added for emphasis.

The sun came out just before I hit Maryland, and I was dry as I crossed the Hagerstown line. I was home three hours later. Those two days had been the longest I had ridden alone in 25 years. On that ride, I thought of the following:

• Three past girlfriends, what they looked like naked, and where they were at that moment.
• How Charles Lindbergh once figured out how many times his engine fired in an hour, and how many times it had to fire to get him to Paris. West Chester isn’t Paris, but as far as I’m concerned, it amounted to the same thing. I gave up trying to make other calculations when I hit 16,000,000.
• Clever things I could have said to each of those three women once I realized they would never lay me again.
• That I had never consciously looked at the bearings in the steering head (after swerving around a truck).
• My life in general.
• What it would have been like to have all three of those women together, slathered with warm Crisco.
• Clever tstatements that all ended with “Shove it up your ass,” to a former client.
• How I could afford a new BMW K1200GT?
• What this story would look like if I ever wrote it?
• How the woman in the car I just passed would look naked?
• Would I really feel like meeting Mack Harrell the next day and riding to the BMW Rally in Vermont as planned?

The one thing that I wasn’t thinking about was that I had over 10,000 miles on those damn Metzlers. And boy did that come back to haunt me in Vermont!

©Copyright Jack Riepe 2009
AKA The Lindbergh Baby (Mac-Pac)
AKA Vindak8r (Motorcycle Views)
AKA The Chamberlain -- PS (With A Shrug)

Woody said...

Classic Riepe "My aging K75 ... followed like a Messerschmidt with a boner."

Thanks for the great story.

Charlie6 said...

Jack, your K75 wasn't aging...it was becoming more of a classic! It's all about the perspective.

It is interesting how the mind wanders down forgotten paths when riding isn't it, mine does as well, but you did a great job of actually capturing it all and sharing it.....thanks.

Although, there did seem to be a primary stream of consciousness in the random thoughts you had.....those women must have been some lookers.

Looking forward to your report of the first ride on the new seat with your accompanying weight loss.

bobskoot said...

Excellent. I often read your posts with my eyes closed so as to conjure up images of naked women, and often I find myself smiling. Just the other day I was stopped at a light and a "hooker" crossed the street in a micro dress, I tried to get a "Jack Riepe photo" for you but the light changed too fast. Never fails, when you want it to go green it goes red and visa-versa.
I must say you've got guts to ride solo. My longest solo ride was to Oregon last summer and a lot of thoughts do run through your mind as the fence posts fly by.

bobskoot: wet coast scootin

BMW-Dick said...

Dear Jack:
I loved this story; it was just plain fun to read. The words flowed together like rum and coke with a slice of lemon or Sta-bil in a full tank of gas or drool in the corner of Pete's mouth. The best part was that this time I wasn't shredded in the story; you even refrained from hoisting Mack Harrell on your ball point. If you're expecting kindness in return, forget it.
I am sooooo looking forward to the return of this year's riding season and our planned and unplanned adventures.

DougBob said...

Thanks for your "solo" tale. What an appropriate trial run for the upcoming rally!

If hell don't freeze over and the crick don't rise, I may be fortunate enough to put in a few miles with you on the way to and from.

Hope to be seein' ya' sometime,

BreakfastVP said...

Very well done Jack. I too find that "solitary riding offers a unparalleled opportunity to think of things I will write and say" but I also experience the frustration of having to repeat it all over and over so I won't forget because - since I'm riding - I cannot write it down at that time. How many brilliant insights and world peace level ideas I've had but have lost by the time I stop because at that point all I can think about is where to take a piss.

Kilik said...

Hey Jack. Great story! I've always loved that aspect of motorcycling. What a world the mind is.

How's the diet going? Be nice to meet you in TN.

John K.

DC said...

This was my most enjoyable read of your blog to date. Masterful. See you on the road, good luck with the new seat.

Anonymous said...

"slathered with warm Crisco" .....I remember a road like that....the "haul road" (Dempster Highway) in Alaska. It turned to Crisco when it started raining crossing the Brooks Range, north of the Arctic Cicrle. That day was 498 mile/16 hour ride from Prudhoe Bay to Fairbanks, 400+ miles on dirt. A VERY MEMORABLE RIDE....lots of time to have long conversations with myself ......and my bike! Standing on the pegs in 2nd gear for mile after mile allows for lots of bike/bonding time!
'07 R 1200 GS Adventure
- Show quoted text -

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the great story. Made me smile today, God knows I needed that.
Yes, there a lots of things to think about whilst riding alone.

I've spent a few miles doing that. Sometimes not thinking at all is
good too. Kind of a zen thing, I suppose.
Most of the time I spent thinking about the next stop for food, fuel
and restroom......

Erik H.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Woody (Wayne):

Thank you kindly for your encouraging note. I have no idea hoe these alalogies occur to me, but you must admit, they are slightly different.

Thank you for reading and for writing in.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Charlie6 (Dom):

I have continually aggravated my friends by turning up with real stunners over the years. One of my buddy's accused me of drugging them. I tell you it is the pattened "battered baby seal" look.

I do think of the damnedest things on the rare occasions when I ride alone. And you might think that I pamper myself when the pain wakes up. Not true. It's at those moments that I usually push myself farther.

Going back 4 years ago, in the very beginning, I stayed off the expressway because of the fast moving traffic. The pain in my knees was so bad one day, that I said "Screw it. I gotta get off this bike." The fastest way to do it was the slab. And I had a pisser of a good time.

Thanks for reading and for writing in.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Bobskoot:

There is really nothing to riding alone -- not around here at any rate. But if you get the chance, read my first blog about riding the New Jersey Turnpike, in traffic where 85 would be considered slow, with four feet or less between vehicles.

You just say, "Screw it. I'm here."

Thanks for writing in.

Fondest regards,

irondad said...

Perhaps we have more in common than I first thought. Many of my rides have started out as group rides. Then, thousands of miles from home, they suddenly become solo rides. Hmmm.

What I really appreciate is the way you close the loop on things. For instance, the Messerschmidt with a boner, thing. Instantly, my mind wondered what that would look like. After all, the thing up front is actually rotating quickly and I couldn't figure out how it would all go. You know, the sticking out versus spinning dilemma.

About the time my brain went into overload, you are kind enough to supply an old wedding picture. Instantly, I see exactly what the above mentioned Messerschmidt with a boner would look like. You see, I just hadn't pictured it being quite so bony.

Seriously, what a wonderful tale you spun for us!

Baron's Life said...

I'm also aging and I think riding solo is a sensual experience... I don't want anyone watching me when I'm riding my girl... and Viagra has certainly solved some problems in the iron dep't....
Great story...Jack, don't know how you do it..you can probably teach us all a thing or two..If ever riding Up North To Vancouver, let me know....!

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Dick:

The truth of the matter is that I have ridden the lion's share of the miles with you in the last three years. And it appears we are getting ready to do it again this year.

I think we make a good riding team because we learn a little bit more about each other every time we go out. For example, I've learned that you like cottage cheese and apple sauce from the buffet, and you have learned that everytime you zing me with a good one, you are written up in my blog two days later.

Here it isThursday, and it looks like rain for the next three days. I don't mind as the roads are still covered with crap. It looks like its going to be the second weekend in April before we hot the pavement though, Pal.

It always a pleasure, Dick.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Unless I have you confused with someone else -- aren't you in Delaware? (I'm under the impression you're Doug Bennett.) I'm going to do a Delaware ride at least once a month for the next three months, hopefully joined by my buddy Rogers George and his wife Val, who are couple of pissers.

I'll make sure you get the schedule and you could meet us on local Rt. 9.

I want to take pictures at the wldlife refuges on the salt marshes (bikes in the foreground) and get a frsh seafood dinner at a joint on North Bowers beach.

North Bowers Beach is an amazing place. The tide went out in 1960 and never came back. Cool bar though.Thee are two of them, in fact. I prefer the joint on the water.

Thanks for reading and writing in, Doug.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Breakfast VP (Todd):

The truth of the matter is that I really prefer riding with Bregstein as opposed to riding and grea distance by myself. There are several reasons for this. The first is that Dick is a real pisser and is generallt up for anything.

"Dick, wanna go fast?"
"Dick, wanna stop for lunch?"
"Dick, wanna hold up a filling station and spend the money on cheap whores?"

Riding is always solitary, if the pillion is empty. But sometimes it is more solitary than others. I don't mind riding alone if that's what the situation calls for. But when the ride stops, I like to smoke cigars, drink whisky, and talk bikes with Bregstein.

You were good enough to send me your collected solitary thoughts from a weekend ride... Remember? You probably thought I forgot. I didn't.

Thanks for reading my drivel and writing in, Todd.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear John Kilik:

The diet is going well, I'm down about 15 pounds as of yesterday, but I really have to kick things into gear, as the ride to Tennessee is looming.

I am staying at the Jameson Inn at the Tennessee Rally (sweaty camping is not for me). Look for "Fire Balls" in the parking lot.

The camping arrangements are a bit different this year. Generally, my local club -- The Mac-Pac -- sets up a compound. I intends to plant my ass on my Kermit chair for an afternoon or two there as well.

I'm delighted you liked the piece I wrote and look forward to seeing you in Tennessee.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear DC (Dave Case):

You were very kind to me in your note. I ran into DucDude last night at dinner, who took the exact opposite of your viewpoint, describing my recent work as "mildly amusing." I described him as "mildly annoying," like rectal itch.

The seat was delivered yesterday. It has the surface area of a pool table. It mounted on the bike in two seconds flat, but I haven't sat on it yet. That test will come tonight.

I ordered the electric version of this seat, not realizing that it will require a quick disconnect to remove it every time I need to get something out of the tail piece.

Oh well.

I hope to share a ride with you very soon. And it not a ride, then an adjoining barstool.

Thanks for reading and writing in.

Always a pleasure.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Gary:

The first time our paths crossed, you were entering the "the most unusual obstruction on the road" contest. I was floored when you introduced yourself to me in a BMW dealership (Hermy's) two weeks later.

I would really like you to share with me some of your adventures on the Dempster (Dumpster) Highway as wel as your pictures.

Thank you for reading my stuff, and for writing in.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Erik H.:

Thank you for your kind note.

You bring up a very good point: Riding a bike alone also provides you with an instrument not to think at all. And sometimes, not thinking about something can be the most liberating therapy.

Dick Bregstein told me that he rides not to think about the stuff I will write which occurred while he was riding.

Thanks for writing in. Your note made my day.

Always a pleasure,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear IronDad:

A good friend of mine, a woman biker, once said, "There is an earthy tone to your writing that consigns it to a personal blog forever. I can see why no one else would touch it."

That about sums it up.

But it is hard to come up with new ways to describe the sounds and power of a K75. Plus this marque and model has plenty of detractors, most of whom live in Key West. So I struggle to come up with visual images that any man, or Viking goddess of a woman, can easily visualize.

Thank you for your appreciation of my effort. I knew we were kindred souls.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Baron's Life:

Thank you for your kind note. It is praise from people like yourself that help my trudge forward in my quest for literary purity regarding motorcycles and all two wheeled vehicles.

I do hope to ride throgh Vancouver one day. And I envision a phalanx of two wheeled machines -- including you and Bob Skoot - careening around the waterfront.

Thank you for reading and writing in.

Fondest regards,

Anonymous said...

Hey Jack -

Another great story - Liked the one before it better tho. I have been promoting your blog to what family and friend that actually pay some attention to me. You have a following at QVC now.

I went to the Dr yesterday and got my ass reamed by her. Cholesterol up, blood Press up, Sugar up, and Weight up. Told me if I wasn't careful I'd end up acting and looking like Jack Reipe. I told her I didn't like Rum and Coke.

Your Riding Pal,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Clyde:

Many "Twisted Roads" readers have reported dramatic weight loss, lower blood pressure, and lower cholesteral readings solely as a result of reading this blog. But you have to keep an open mind and read my stuff often.

Also, readers are claiming they are getting laid a lot more often simply by using my quotes. Many have switched to rum and coke too.

Bless you for recommending my blog.

Fondest regards,

ADK said...

Dear Jack, Where's my flashlight?

I knew two of the three girlfriends you mention, and you're right. All sorts of things go through ones mind when riding alone.

Thanks, once again, for your generosity in all things.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear ADK (Chris)

Send me your postal adress to the e-mail address on the top of the blog.

I was about to fire a well aimed shot, but declined, hoping to avoid the fusilade.

By the way, Mike Cantwell is considering coming down this way the third weekend in April. He is going to do a Friday-Monday thing. Do you think you could start moving the pieces around now to ride down here with him? I realize its tough when you have a social calendar like Charles Manson.

The deal is arrival on Friday. Ride through the salt marshes in Delaware on Saturday (fresh seafood in a biker joint). Mac-Pac breakfast on Sunday, followed by road apple ride through Amish country. Return to Adirondack hell on Monday.

Just say yes. It will make up for missing the rally in Tennessee. Have you checked your rubber lately? The tires on the bike?

Fondest regards,

Earl Thomas said...

Mr. Riepe: The majority of the miles that I have logged on two wheels has been solo. Even though I feel much more comfortable riding alone, I envy the groups of riders that I pass and wave to during my travels. I've always wondered what that experience would be like.

I love the way that a solo ride lets my mind graze through a myriad of topics in no particular fashion, I do wonder why my mind works that way only when I am with the bike. Also, I have found that when I am in my 18-20th hour of a long ride (apparently my definition of a long ride is a bit different than yours), thinking "naked" thoughts is an effective tactic that helps keep me awake...............now that I think about, those thoughts don't always occur in the 18th hour, sometimes they occur shortly after leaving the driveway. Hey! It still keeps me awake.

Ride Well

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Mr. Thomas:

Regarding the length of a ride... I am in a new stage of my life. I'm fighting the arthritis with some success and have just taken delivery of a new custom saddle, that is alleged to have been made to match my ass.

My riding time could double.

Also, I have discovered that there is never a wrong time for an uplifting thought. Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff, and for leaving an encouraging comment.

Fondest regards,

bobskoot said...

Thanks to you I find that my mind is slowly adopting Jack Riepe thoughts. Not that it's bad, mind you I find myself grabbing the camera to take Jack Riepe photos (as you have noticed) and when ever I see those scantily clad bodies, I immediately think Jack Riepe thoughts again. The more I read your blog -- the more Jack Riepe I become. Not that it's bad, mind you
I have a friend with a K75 and when I see it, no doubt I will imagine that it's you sitting in the saddle, aboard Fireball with that fancy, one of a kind fairing and my mind will wander off again and I may call him "Jack" by accident as his real name is JohnB. Not that it's bad, mind you

bobskoot: wet coast scootin

Charlie6 said...

oh, it's bad but its a good kind of bad.....

see if you can find some greenery for Jack to gaze at, I've failed at that lately....

motonomad said...

Thanks for the fun piece, and I was pleased to finally see a photo of your good friend, Rick Matz (I'm guessing he dropped the "y" many years ago). I can see why you guys are still friends....he looks like your younger and slimmer brother. I'm curious though....does he ride with his eyes closed too, or only when he's having his picture taken.

cpa3485 said...

When I ride, especially at this time of year, my mind thinks of numbers dancing around until they find their way on to some friggin tax form ending up in such a place on the forms so that order becomes balanced in the universe.

Yeah I know that sounds stupid, but that is how the synapses in my brain work this time of year.

When the topic of Messeeschmidts with boners is considered
However, I have to assume that the synapses in your brain work significantly differently than mine. But that is not a bad thing at all. I have come to admire the firings , or is it misfirings in your synapses. Your blog has actually helped me keep some semblance of sanity through this 'tax season'.

But while we might be on the subject, I feel obligated to mention that I recently read somewhere that the reason Irondad did not like to ride scooters was because he experiences an 'equipment arrangement problem' due to the seating position on a scooter.

Alas, I do not seem to experience this kind of difficulty. Was wondering If you thought he would have a similar issue with a vintage BMW?

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Charlie6 (Dom):

You were so kind to mention my aversion to anything that now refers to winter. I'm utterly sick of it. It's rainig like hell here at the moment, and I had to run into town this morning with the truck. I am amazed at the piles of gravel lining each intersection, scattered throughout the curves, and going straight up the centers of the road.

Now I was under the impression that the dopes in Washington had allocated endless money for municipalities to put people to work. I sncerely hope they will start to spend some of this dough on cleaning up these road surfaces come April 1st.

That could be the date that they will have determined will be the official end of sleet and snow.

I desperately need pictures of green fields, flowers in bloom, and bikes in the warm sunshine. I would hold it against you if you stage some.

Thanks for writing in again.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Bobskoot:

The thoughts to which you are referring are not "Jack Riepe" thoughts per se. However, they are regarded as the most common of thoughts shared by lesser gods, Viking Chieftains, Visigoths, and Druids. And while most women regard a conversation of this nature as "distasteful," no expense is spared by the vast majority of them to be the focus of such thoughts for as long as humanly possible.

I try to accommodatre them as often as possible. And Bob, you have no idea how thrilled I am that my influence is wearing off on you.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear MotoNomad (Pete):

Thank you for reading my blog and writing in with your comments. I know it is an effort for you to read my stuff as you number among those who think I am full of shit, and overly generous in my desire to share it.

Ricky (the "y" still applies occasionally) is a pisser and is likely to meet up with us in Tennessee. Either that or we will take a side ride over to his place. You will find his art collection very interesting.

Ricky has been a vocal critic of my riding style for years, but he has dumped it a few times as well. He closed his eyes in the picture at the point where he realized that sending it to me would forever put him in my power.

The four horseman of the Teutonic apocalyse (Clyde, Bregstein, you and me) will be on the road again soon.

It was a thrill, albeit a cheap one, to see your note here today.

Fondest regards,

Jack Riepe said...

Dear CPA3485:

I'm delighted that readsing my blog contributes to your sanity during tax season. I'm sure you have returns up to your eyebrows, and I'm equaly sure some of the more complicated ones prey on your mind.

I have learned to keep work out of my head when I ride. Some day I will die. And in that last few seconds of remaining life, or as I stand before Christ, I do not want to think I wasted one instant more than necessary constructing news stories to greater glory of others, when I could have been doing something else -- like jerking off.

On the other hand, I could regret not spending more time making peole laugh. There are so many bastards on this earth who make everybody else miserable, that I feel blessed if I can get a smile out of a solitary rider somewhere.

Regarding "equipment displacement" on vintage BMW motorcycles... It is important to remember that since 1923, BMW's have been built specifically for men with huge balls, and for women who ride like they have them. Looking at the average BMW seat, you will notice that they are narrow in front so that you may drape a testicle over each side of the tank.

You know, you ought to look into getting a vintage K75. Everyone should fly a Messerschmidt at least once in their life.

Thank you for reading my blog and for writing in.

Fondest regards,

Grandad 43 said...

Long Way Back...Alone, reminds me of a solo ride from Laconia,NH back to the Keystone State on a rain filled Sunday afternoon and evening.
My introduction to riding in the rain and finishing up on the super slabs.
Jane and I rode 523 miles in one day, last summer. Toured "Little Bighorn" and crossed Montana and Wyoming and returned to South Dakota at 1:00 am.
Great rides the whole time there.

Niteowl said...

Jack, another great read. That BuRP trip was fun. Looking forward to our next ride.
Is Ricky enjoying his new scoot?

Thanks again for the laughs.


text:
Saturday, May 28, 2011

Friday, May 27, 2011

27 May randoms

When a person who used to read your blog very frequently,
and now,
he doesn't do that anymore.

What happened?

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

征服Gunung Tahan

24小时前，从半岛最高的山，Gunung Tahan回来。

这四天高攀Gunung tahan的过程，吸取了很多教训。
可是不重要，我还是不会用他们对我的态度对待他们，因为，I want to be a better person than you.

22/5/2011 到达Gunung Tahan高峰

Monday, May 23, 2011

23rd May

Some guys, are just never meant to be your boyfriends. No matter how YOU wish them to be yours.

Some guys, too are just never meant to be your boyfriends. No matter how THEY wish they could be ours.

Which one do you prefer?

But some guys, I just never want them to be my boyfriend. They make promises damn so easily. Nevertheless, they just can't make it, never keep their words. And, sadly, sometimes they just never mean to keep their promises.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

7 May

Awful training...
Both my arms can hardly be straightened now..
Well, they CAN be straightened, but I have to endure great pain at my biseps...
And it's literally PAINFUL when I have to grab things more than 1kg, even a cup of coffee.
No joke T.T
Tonight will be an exciting night
~*~Good Luck and All the Best~*~❤❤❤

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

It's so Arduous

Exam week..
It's still a long way to go.
It's bitter and suffering.
FYP and exam together.
It's so killing.
But, please..
Don't die.

Minyee's status:
Siewjye Chow 四年了，我们捱过了。。明天和今天一定要咬紧牙根，捱过它们！！

We'll get through this! Crossing fingers firmly...

On this bumpy road to a “better life” that I ride everyday... I wish...I Could get through this!