Spent

Definition from Merriam-Webster:
SPENT
Pronunciation: \ˈspent\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English, from past participle of spenden to spend
Date: 15th century
1 a: used up : consumed b: exhausted of active or required components or qualities often for a particular purpose
2: drained of energy or effectiveness : exhausted
3: exhausted of spawn or sperm

Spent is what the Captain is. After Saturday's 113 mile ride over Potts Mountain to Paint Bank and eventually back to Blacksburg I was pretty spent. Then with Sunday's noon two hour mountain bike ride hammerfest at Poverty Creek, the level of being spent has increased ten-fold. And let me clear up any confusion, I'm spent as in definition number 2, not number 3... unfortunately. Though number 3 wouldn't be a bad way to die. Hell I think I put out more energy over two days of riding than the salmon who swim upstream just to bust a nut & then die. And unlike the salmon, no nut was busted, the only consolation prize being sore quads & a saddle sore or two.

Still, I can't find any reason to complain. Two continous days of no rain or snow was enough to satisfy the caged beast until I visit NoVa and prepare to ride the 94 miles to Washington D.C. from my sisters house. Bring on the WO&D TRAIL and its never ending supply of Fred's. I think this guy is nicknamed "bas".

Losing a whole week

The never ending shitty weather that has descended on Blacksburg has caused the Captain to spiral into a funk of boredom and self-reflection. Aside from the thrice weekly yoga, the Captain has become a caged beast behind the bars of physical inactivity and a slumping economy. Without the ability to take the angst out on the bike, burying all of life’s worries in a beautiful orchestra of sweat, suffering, and simultaneous endorphin produced high, life becomes a slow motion slog of repetitive chores. Click on the weather and look for respite from the madness. 5 more days of this rain, fuck me.

With no physical outlet to ease an even wandering mind, the only choice is towards menial house work but you can only sweep the floor so many times before you realize this is no was to pass time. And for whatever reason, the Captain has sworn off the drink till New Years. Sure it's kind of an ass-backwards New Years, or should I say End Years, resolution, but hey I think I have about a 26% chance of upholding it. If this rain keeps up, the odds decline ever faster.

So I’m forced to sit here and type witty shit to keep the mind from eating itself . Listening to music from the hey-day of my life, reminiscing about ex-girlfriends, and dammit stop looking at that bottle of beer and concentrate. But really there isn’t much to focus on. Christmas is a week away, but at my age, Santa is more about time off from work than presents or any of the material shit that I’ve been busy selling off on eBay, trying to lighten the load for when the great mind-snap comes & I leave town on a whim for greener pastures.

Until then the only solace comes from 90’s rock and hazy memories of good times gone by. I’m still amazed, and one of my great loves, is the association of music to memories. Some memories are clearer than others, and some of the best are covered in a green haze of broken fragments and cake covered fingers. Yet, as the Captain ages, and the gray hair, and not just on your head…(wtf nobody ever told me of this part of aging) become more prominent, I can’t escape the great times spent with those close to my heart and the distance that separates us all at this time of year. So all I can do is sing along staring at old pictures of a young Captain & long missed friends.

Ohhh let the music/memory association roll on…








"I remember you and me used to spend The whole goddamned day in bed"

Beer Mondays & The Shoelace Knot Syndrome

Oh Fudge. That is the only way to describe waking up on Tuesday after blitzing your liver Monday night. And why did I do this again I keep asking myself the next day. Cause there ain't much else to do in Blacksburg when it is rainy/snowy/windy all at the same time at night. After seeing Religulous & feeling assured that my soul will forever burn in hell for even viewing this movie, I thought no time like the present to further my impending damnation. Drinking way too many beers seemed like the appropriate way to go to Hell in a Bucket .

And that bucket was lined with one too many beers & some stupid Drinking & Texting. I need to put a Breathalyzer on my cell phone so I don't do this dumb shit (of course someone has already found out how to do this, so fuck me for thinking I had an original thought). First let me be clear, the Captain does not condone drinking & driving, or any such animal. One of the main selling points when I purchased my house was that it is on the bus route so I could get royally shit-faced free of any dependency of me driving afterwards. Sure you might say that's a red flag for being an alcoholic, I argue it's called being responsible. If more people had this mindset, there would not be so many unnecessary car accidents & injuries. Better yet, while we are on the subject, lets just replace those cars with bikes. Drinking & bike riding is a comical mode of transport at best. I give you exhibit A:

But back to the title and away from my defense of being a winter boozehound. The shoelace knot syndrome is that annoying head split after one too many beers finished off by a Jimmy John's sub with onions, no mayo please, I am still following my diet, thank you very much (well not counting all the beer calories).

Overnight, if you do not properly rehydrate, the shoelace knot will grow in your mind & next morning you awake to the squinty eyed, head split pain that only this lethal combination brings. The onions are key cause no matter how much you brush your teeth, the onions taste is regurgitated into your mouth & nasal cavity with every stinking morning breath. This is probably why I am still single.

And that leads us to: "the shoelace knot" is that super tightened knock that you can never undo from your laces, expect it is your brain that is knotted. You pick at it with your fingernails. No dice. Next you dig at it with a fork. Still not budging. You find a thin nail to pry at it. Nope, nothing. So you get impatient & say, fuck this, and cut it out with scissors, only to realize now you shoe is all loose & won't stay on your foot and who the hell keeps spare shoelaces anyway?

And that is what is going on inside your beer swelled skull. A super tight knot that only lets you know how much of an asshole you were the night before. Unfortunately there is no way to untie your brain & so you must live with the fact that after another stupid, drunken night, you have not learned your lesson. Still, it does beat Puking in the Kitchen Sink & missing the Duke football game.

I'll make it all go away

Not much can floor me anymore. But there is one constant that can humble me. Blind Melon and the passing of Shannon Hoon. Angelic melodies are intertwined in "Soup", a song that resonates through my hardscrabble life.

Listen & read:

The clothesline of cold eyes is washing away the face before
Now tell me what's wrong you see everyone's gone
You gotta do your best to decorate this dying' day
This dying' day
All over a bowl of bitter beans
All over a bowl of bitter beans
And outside way, way up high I got a quarter moon mist hanging' over me
And now, I want that rocking chair outta there
Cause he's no longer living here
It's no longer needed here
All over a bowl of bitter beans
All over a bowl of bitter beans
And I got a corner store and that's all the more
For me to praise upon the holidays
And now I'll close my eyes really, really tight and make you all go away,
I'll make you all go all go away
And I'll pull the trigger and make it all go away
And I'll make it all go away, I'll make it all go away

One Year Anniversary

Today marked an important milestone for the ever aging Captain. My one year check-up finds the Captain free & clear from my previous precancer diagnosis of Actinic Keratosis. Hearing the "C' word at 30 years old was an eye opening experience. With those simple words from the Doctor, the first feeling was that hollow gut, almost nausea in the pit of your deepest stomach cavern.

Then the thoughts quickly go to how do we treat it? Easy enough. Put this Efudex on your face & your skin will start to fall off like the Nazi in Indiana Jones.



And just like that Nazi, well maybe not like a Nazi, but you get the point, my face melted & then healed back up to the lovely lady killer that I am.

So now it's remember to use your sunscreen kiddies, visit the dermatologist once a year while trying to avoid the inevitable Proctologist visit.