Tid bits of advice

I have been thinking carefully about what to write about Baba since she is a rather private lady, and she would probably not appreciate if I blabbed all about her all over the internet.

But, I can give you some bits of advice that seemed to have served her well over the years.

Always support the little guy. They have had the same trash pick-up guy for the last 40 years. We drive past his house when we go food shopping or go to the deli. BFI and All-Waste, or something like that, are here, but we're sticking with the little guy.
This goes for doughnut shops too. Yum-Yum is around here, and they totally beat out Dunkin Donuts.

Never say die. Baba is not in the greatest shape, but she still gets her chores done- it just takes a little longer. As long as you don't let grass grow under your feet, you'll be fine.

"Don't buy a motorcycle." 'nuff said Baba. I hear you loud and clear.

There is nothing good on TV. There are so many channels and nothing good on them. So you should just go outside and watch nature.

Be accepting. Accept the things you cannot change. If you don't they'll just grind you down. Then where will you be?

Talk to the cats like they're people. [If you're a cat person, you already know this to be true.]

Give hugs and kisses as much as you can. You can take them with you, unlike your money and house and toys and pool and cars.

Your grandmother is so old...

Your grandmother is so old, that her 26-year-old grandson moved in with her so she could keep living in her house.

Wait... That's a terribly joke.

Why would you say that, Phil? You're a really crappy comedian.

Ah, you're right; I am a terrible comedian, but I am a great grandson and I have two really great grandmothers.

I moved in with Baba (mother's mother; remember that name, she'll be a recurring character) and I live less than 10 miles from my Dad's mother, Grandma, here in the greater Philadelphia area.

I haven't done a piece here in three months, and in that time a lot has happened.

I finished my time in Boulder, at VeloNews. In that last month I really soured toward Boulder. I rode a ton (30 hours in about seven days, averaging 10,000 feet of climbing five of those days). I was fried from riding and unimpressed with Boulder, as a possible place to put down roots.

I realized the relative importance of competitive cycling reporting in the overall hierarchy of journalism; we'll put it that way...

I realized how much I love the East Coast (that's right, both capitalized!), family and manufacturing. Boulder seemed to have very few things grounding it to a way of life that I find important. There's no industry there, beyond computer programming and other service-sector jobs. Had I desired to be a professional waiter, or dedicate ANOTHER four years to law school Boulder would be a great place to live.

When I describe my time out there I always make sure to say that I would go back to Boulder, or another place in Colorado, to vacation. A cycling or hiking vacation would be fantastic, when I have enough money to fly there, stay in a nice hotel, eat in nice restaurants, and fly back to civilization (East Coast).

But, to make a living out there for a liberal arts major in the manufacturing field, Boulder was not the place.

So, Southeastern Pennsylvania here I came. (That's what I said at the time, but now it's in the past, so you'll have to forgive the butchered verb tense.)

Baba needed and needs help to stay in her house. It's as much home for me as my childhood home in Newmarket is since we spent months at a stretch here in the summer.

It's also something of Baba's ancestral homeland. The four or so acres she has left, after selling about 35 acres to a developer with great apprehension, was a her and my grandfather's wedding present in 1952 (Fact Check). She has lived all but six years of her live on this land, and I think the last thing she would want would be to leave this land and house for an apartment in assisted living home.

As I was leaving Colorado, I spoke with a friend of a friend about my plans to live with Baba. He said he was the primary caregiver to two elderly relatives and it gave him a wonderful new perspective about life, aging and caring for others.

Therefore, as I started this blog to chronicle my adventures in Italy, I shall now try to convey the nuggets of wisdom and insight that I have gained and will gain from living with my grandmother, Baba.

That brings you up to speed.

Now buckle up and enjoy the motorized shopping cart ride through the next phase of my life.

"You should work three days a week and ride more."

That was the wise advice given to me by former VeloNews intern-turned-writer Robbie Stout, two days ago.

And, damn it, that's what I did today. I went for a two and a half hour lunch ride today.

It felt great. It was a beautiful day. I first went out for an hour with the advertising staff and then for another hour and a half on my own up Flagstaff Road.

Flagstaff takes you up - as far as I went - about 1200 feet above Boulder. It is still odd to me to see, what seems like, the whole world stretching out in front of you as you climb into the Rockies.

Going back to the East Coast after spending time on the front range is a trip.

Out here, you can see for miles and miles, even on cloudy day, which are few and far between.

However, back east, everything has a pulse. There is trash in alleys and deciduous trees. Not in Colorado; it's wide open and still brown.

It's amazing to see two totally different worlds that are on the same continent.

Today was pretty sweet, and complimented nicely by sunburnt stripes at the top of my tricep, where there was a gap between my arm warmers and my jersey sleeve.

An untimely report from Colorado.

It's been a bit over a week since I rolled into Boulder.

The drive was fairly miserable, and it went a little something like this;

Day 1 = 3:00 p.m. -- 10:00 p.m.

= nap at New York ThruWay rest stop

= 12:00 a.m. -- 2:00 a.m.

= nap at New York ThruWay rest stop; 14 degrees outside when I woke up.

Day 2 = 5:00 a.m. -- 7:30 p.m.

= maybe two 1-hour naps in Ohio

Day 3 = 8:00 a.m. -- 9:00 a.m.

= breakfast at Grandma's Kitchen on I-80 near Davenport, Illinios

= 10:00 a.m. -- 11:30 p.m.

= rolled into Bolder shortly before midnight.

Never drive across the country. It's so boring.

If anyone every says that you should drive across the country, tell them you'll book a flight instead. And that they can pick you up at the airport after they do the drive alone.

Trust me.

However, Boulder is cool.

I think it's too early to give an official or formal critique, so I'll keep my fool mouth shut for now.

The last two Tuesdays have seen the VeloNews staff go to the Boulder Indoor Cycling Center during lunch time. Riding track, while a bit boring while you're going slow, becomes quite fun at higher speeds.

Roger Dogder. Over and out.

Throne of Malevolence

Throne of Malevolence.

See you in Hell.

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!