i love this time of year. winding down the summer with fabulous weather here in the pacific northwest - although the last couple of days have left something to be desired. we move slowly from 90 degree days that seemingly last forever to back to school shopping and the dread of the realization that another thanksgiving and christmas will soon be upon us. i love this time of year, not for the reasons stated above, but because these gentle shifts and thoughts are a reminder that football season is upon us. and with that come fantasy football!
yes folks, i am a fantasy nut. super fan really, and while i may not display my inner geekdom (i really don't have any), i do get lost in the revelry of the competition and strategy that fantasy sports has to offer. i average three football teams a year, shelling out a paltry $100 in the process and only twice in the last four years have i finished any better than fourth - in a league mind you that i quickly was kicked out of this year after i left my former place of employment. hacks!
this year is no different. i again have my trio of teams, while honey bunches took over my spot in the former league (might i mention that she too is really into this fantasy thing as well. i've lost a good two days of work trying to analyze the players, develop my draft strategy, and figure out what player on my shitty roster from last year that i'm going to keep - believe me, it's not pretty.
we're hosting a draft party this year (yay for drafting and beer!) - one of the great things about being a commissioner - for the couples league that i started. how fun it was last year to watch newcomers whoop up on the veterans (i finished 8th).
good luck to everyone out there that takes part. should be a fun one this year. i must go out and buy my 3 magazines now. later!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
fun times on saturday
so i was set to write about the time left in wedding preparations and how good the soon-to-be-missus and i felt about where we were, but something completely traumatic and eerie and tragic happened over the weekend that i was witness to - and everybody loves one of those stories.
i just hope to do it justice on here.
start the video 16 seconds in (stops at 34 seconds - and the music backdrop is filled w/ profanity, so turn down those speakers if you don't want to hear it), that will provide backdrop...
saturday evening i was to head north to pick up honey bunches from the casino where she had spent the afternoon at the outlets and playing bingo. as i took the normal route to the northbound lanes from the house, i approached a (the only?) gas station that is along the route and noticed a group of folks on motorcycles coming out, or attempting, of the station and into traffic. one man in particular stood out as he was the closest to the street amongst them and seemed to be itching to get going. i remember saying to myself "stay right there, assholes." i mean, they oozed cockiness - "hey look at us, we're a band of cyclists."
moving ahead, as i was merging onto the freeway, i see the reflection of singular lights hurtling up the freeway at well above 70 (since that's what i was going just to merge). there's the leader of the pack, mr red shirt. the one that stood out at the gas station. he and his buddies cut numerous people off, go from 80 to 45 back up and down for about a mile before there are 8-10 of them amassed, all in the left and carpool lanes.
by the time we, i was hanging back with most of the traffic, but keeping pace with them, reached mountlake terrace there was a significant backup behind the band of cycles as they could not decide on a speed to keep steady. they finally decided on 65 i would assume as they didn't leave me and that's what i was going.
when the backup started i remember thinking to myself that a) someone was going to do something stupid and b) this is how people get killed. it just wasn't a safe feeling on the freeway with all those motorcyclists out there. traffic flow was tentative, although moving steady. it was like all the drivers in the cars were thinking the same exact thing, and that's when it happened - someone got stupid. mr. red shirt.
in all his glory, he through his right leg over his bike with his left on the peg and jumped to the pavement while holding on. we're going 65 and this guy is pavement skiing. my thought repeated at least 100 times, "dumbass is going to kill himself." everyone in the area (behind, on the side) moved over and slowed down as mr. red shirt guy sped up and slowed down. 3/4 mile into it, he started drifting almost hitting one of his buddies in the carpool lane. everyone (bikers included) now started slowing and a sense of dread comes over me. he's no longer standing on stiff legs, it looks like he can't pull himself up. and then it happens. mr. red shirt crashes into the metal barrier, going what i would approximate at 55 miles per hour, what's left of his bike, slams into him chest level at the same time his head (wearing helmet) hits the metal barrier. i was fortunate enough to turn my head and had his visor been up i would've seen his eyes at that exact moment.
what happened next while time was slowing down has forever tarnished my faith in 98% of humanity. 6 of the bikes speed up and flee, the two closest to him stop. the black chevy tahoe (i believe) that was next to or just in front of me, slowed down with me, then took off. all other traffic behind me barely slowed. i pulled over and called 911 and waited for the state patrol and aid to arrive. state patrol arrived in 2 minutes, while waiting for the patrol to arrive, i spotted 2 more of the riders walking back to the scene. i waited for 15 minutes (both to ensure that all was kosher, not that i could've done anything - wrong side of the freeway, and to calm my nerves). one of the bikes that stopped left, the 2 walked back, and aid never showed up.
(i stop here because i don't know what happened, i make assumptions based on what i saw and what i saw was someone who lost his life. did it happen? no clue.)
he was smart in one sense, he wore a helmet. stupid in every other.
i just hope to do it justice on here.
start the video 16 seconds in (stops at 34 seconds - and the music backdrop is filled w/ profanity, so turn down those speakers if you don't want to hear it), that will provide backdrop...
saturday evening i was to head north to pick up honey bunches from the casino where she had spent the afternoon at the outlets and playing bingo. as i took the normal route to the northbound lanes from the house, i approached a (the only?) gas station that is along the route and noticed a group of folks on motorcycles coming out, or attempting, of the station and into traffic. one man in particular stood out as he was the closest to the street amongst them and seemed to be itching to get going. i remember saying to myself "stay right there, assholes." i mean, they oozed cockiness - "hey look at us, we're a band of cyclists."
moving ahead, as i was merging onto the freeway, i see the reflection of singular lights hurtling up the freeway at well above 70 (since that's what i was going just to merge). there's the leader of the pack, mr red shirt. the one that stood out at the gas station. he and his buddies cut numerous people off, go from 80 to 45 back up and down for about a mile before there are 8-10 of them amassed, all in the left and carpool lanes.
by the time we, i was hanging back with most of the traffic, but keeping pace with them, reached mountlake terrace there was a significant backup behind the band of cycles as they could not decide on a speed to keep steady. they finally decided on 65 i would assume as they didn't leave me and that's what i was going.
when the backup started i remember thinking to myself that a) someone was going to do something stupid and b) this is how people get killed. it just wasn't a safe feeling on the freeway with all those motorcyclists out there. traffic flow was tentative, although moving steady. it was like all the drivers in the cars were thinking the same exact thing, and that's when it happened - someone got stupid. mr. red shirt.
in all his glory, he through his right leg over his bike with his left on the peg and jumped to the pavement while holding on. we're going 65 and this guy is pavement skiing. my thought repeated at least 100 times, "dumbass is going to kill himself." everyone in the area (behind, on the side) moved over and slowed down as mr. red shirt guy sped up and slowed down. 3/4 mile into it, he started drifting almost hitting one of his buddies in the carpool lane. everyone (bikers included) now started slowing and a sense of dread comes over me. he's no longer standing on stiff legs, it looks like he can't pull himself up. and then it happens. mr. red shirt crashes into the metal barrier, going what i would approximate at 55 miles per hour, what's left of his bike, slams into him chest level at the same time his head (wearing helmet) hits the metal barrier. i was fortunate enough to turn my head and had his visor been up i would've seen his eyes at that exact moment.
what happened next while time was slowing down has forever tarnished my faith in 98% of humanity. 6 of the bikes speed up and flee, the two closest to him stop. the black chevy tahoe (i believe) that was next to or just in front of me, slowed down with me, then took off. all other traffic behind me barely slowed. i pulled over and called 911 and waited for the state patrol and aid to arrive. state patrol arrived in 2 minutes, while waiting for the patrol to arrive, i spotted 2 more of the riders walking back to the scene. i waited for 15 minutes (both to ensure that all was kosher, not that i could've done anything - wrong side of the freeway, and to calm my nerves). one of the bikes that stopped left, the 2 walked back, and aid never showed up.
(i stop here because i don't know what happened, i make assumptions based on what i saw and what i saw was someone who lost his life. did it happen? no clue.)
he was smart in one sense, he wore a helmet. stupid in every other.
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