This guy over at Instructables lowered his coffee table, added a storage tray, and best of all, installed cantilever hinges!
Yes, I'll talk to Trophy Wife about this before I break out the wrecker bar...
14 hours ago
17 December 2008
Honey, mind if I dismantle the coffee table?
This guy over at Instructables lowered his coffee table, added a storage tray, and best of all, installed cantilever hinges!
Yes, I'll talk to Trophy Wife about this before I break out the wrecker bar...
Blind Welding in Malawi
At some point recently, my perspective shifted. If I had seen this article last year, I would have just seen some welder using makeshift equipment in a third world country. Now I see some amazing improvisation. Huh.
16 December 2008
Say bye-bye to Delicious links in my feed
I signed up for Feedburner a while back, and included a little feature that adds any sites I tag in Delicious to my RSS feed. I realized (after looking at my Facebook profile, which doesn't happen often) that it made for a messy and probably annoying feed, so I turned it off.
And unless I hear anyone say, "but Eric, I do so love to see what's been striking your webfancy every fricking day!", they're outta my feed for good. You can always find them in Delicious if you so choose.
And unless I hear anyone say, "but Eric, I do so love to see what's been striking your webfancy every fricking day!", they're outta my feed for good. You can always find them in Delicious if you so choose.
A Little Offline Reading
Amazon is having a sale on magazine subscriptions
, and over a hundred of 'em are $20 or less.Yeah, you could read a lot of this online, but it's good to have some print once in a while. Laptops are so unwieldy in the bathroom ;)
Goodies include:
That last one was for you, honey ;)
09 December 2008
I want one.
Too bad they don't have any stores anywhere other than California, though a NY store is planned for first quarter 2009.
17 November 2008
04 November 2008
26 October 2008
How's this for Fair & Balanced?
Don't worry, I'm not slamming Fox News (this time)--this is some Orlando station.
All I have to say is, "Wow." Just. Wow.
Thanks to Dad Gone Mad for pointing this out in a Tweet.
All I have to say is, "Wow." Just. Wow.
Thanks to Dad Gone Mad for pointing this out in a Tweet.
07 August 2008
You Know You're A Cyclist When...
First off, I stole this from the Race Pace bike shop's web site, but I'm sure it's not unique to them. Either way, it's pretty funny (if you're a cyclist), so here goes:
This article used with thanks to Charlie McCorkell and John Chiarella!
You use your helmet as a hair-styling device.
You think nothing of walking into public places dressed in tights like a super hero.
You can give instantaneous directions to any corner in the city, but only for those using bike paths and public transportation.
Multi-ton cars and trucks are tearing along in front, alongside and coming up behind you... your pulse rate: 66.
All of your pants have frayed cuffs and chain-grease marks.
You keep deodorant and baby wipes at the office.
You are polite to most everyone, you blush at some rap songs, but you swear like a drunken sailor when a grandma in an SUV cuts you off.
You've been asked if you're a tap dancer.
Although you speak only English, you're perfectly capable of pronouncing several words in Italian.
The friend who was so happy to see you on his morning drive wonders why you gave him the finger when he honked.
When someone asks for advice on buying a bike, you either:
a) ask, "How many thousands do you want to spend?"
b) assail them with so many questions about intended use, riding style and the like, not to mention such personal questions as pubic bone height, that you make buying a bicycle sound like rocket science and unintentionally put them off the idea.
When that same person reacts by saying, "It's only a bicycle," your jaw drops and your eyes bug out, and you're only half kidding.
When you encounter rough pavement, you say to yourself, "Ah, pave," and daydream about leaving the peloton in your dust as you speed through Arenberg Forest.
A car goes by with two (your preferred gender here) carrying two bikes. Later, you can't recall their hair color or what make car, but you can ID the bikes' make, model and color.
You have 3 bikes and you absolutely need more.
You sometimes wish you had a longer commute to work, just so you could ride more.
You ride 50 miles, one way, with a twenty in your pocket and if you actually buy something, you consider leaving the change because of the weight.
You select a restaurant because of its charming, outdoor dining. Your bike is 23 inches away. You lock it anyway. But you can't enjoy your meal because you can't take your eyes off your bike.
You consider the color of the bikes hanging from your ceiling when selecting home decor.
You missed more than two family events this summer due to scheduling conflicts with club rides.
You and your friends can recreate the "Jaws" scene where Quint, Brody, and Hooper compare scars, each with an even better story behind it, except yours go something like "This is from a 1990 Buick station wagon that turned left in front of me and put me over the hood."
Another cyclist asks you for the location of the nearest bike shop; you fix their bike on the spot.
You shop for your spring wardrobe at our store, rather than malls and clothing stores.
Your idea of surfing consists of drafting buses, minivans, and SUVs to keep up with the green wave.
You practice track stands and bunny hops in your spare time.
When actually driving, you stop at a red light and since no pedestrians are in the crosswalk you start to drive right through before you realize you are NOT on a bike, and slam on the brakes.
Similarly, when driving on the highway at 60 mph, you freak out at a 1-inch-wide groove in the pavement. What if your tires get stuck?
You know the location of all the major potholes between your home and office.
You can't think of the last time you saw any of your friends who don't bike.
You think nothing of walking into public places dressed in tights like a super hero.
You can give instantaneous directions to any corner in the city, but only for those using bike paths and public transportation.
Multi-ton cars and trucks are tearing along in front, alongside and coming up behind you... your pulse rate: 66.
All of your pants have frayed cuffs and chain-grease marks.
You keep deodorant and baby wipes at the office.
You are polite to most everyone, you blush at some rap songs, but you swear like a drunken sailor when a grandma in an SUV cuts you off.
You've been asked if you're a tap dancer.
Although you speak only English, you're perfectly capable of pronouncing several words in Italian.
The friend who was so happy to see you on his morning drive wonders why you gave him the finger when he honked.
When someone asks for advice on buying a bike, you either:
a) ask, "How many thousands do you want to spend?"
b) assail them with so many questions about intended use, riding style and the like, not to mention such personal questions as pubic bone height, that you make buying a bicycle sound like rocket science and unintentionally put them off the idea.
When that same person reacts by saying, "It's only a bicycle," your jaw drops and your eyes bug out, and you're only half kidding.
When you encounter rough pavement, you say to yourself, "Ah, pave," and daydream about leaving the peloton in your dust as you speed through Arenberg Forest.
A car goes by with two (your preferred gender here) carrying two bikes. Later, you can't recall their hair color or what make car, but you can ID the bikes' make, model and color.
You have 3 bikes and you absolutely need more.
You sometimes wish you had a longer commute to work, just so you could ride more.
You ride 50 miles, one way, with a twenty in your pocket and if you actually buy something, you consider leaving the change because of the weight.
You select a restaurant because of its charming, outdoor dining. Your bike is 23 inches away. You lock it anyway. But you can't enjoy your meal because you can't take your eyes off your bike.
You consider the color of the bikes hanging from your ceiling when selecting home decor.
You missed more than two family events this summer due to scheduling conflicts with club rides.
You and your friends can recreate the "Jaws" scene where Quint, Brody, and Hooper compare scars, each with an even better story behind it, except yours go something like "This is from a 1990 Buick station wagon that turned left in front of me and put me over the hood."
Another cyclist asks you for the location of the nearest bike shop; you fix their bike on the spot.
You shop for your spring wardrobe at our store, rather than malls and clothing stores.
Your idea of surfing consists of drafting buses, minivans, and SUVs to keep up with the green wave.
You practice track stands and bunny hops in your spare time.
When actually driving, you stop at a red light and since no pedestrians are in the crosswalk you start to drive right through before you realize you are NOT on a bike, and slam on the brakes.
Similarly, when driving on the highway at 60 mph, you freak out at a 1-inch-wide groove in the pavement. What if your tires get stuck?
You know the location of all the major potholes between your home and office.
You can't think of the last time you saw any of your friends who don't bike.
This article used with thanks to Charlie McCorkell and John Chiarella!
04 July 2008
Are you hot and sweaty and wet?
I've been riding so much lately that now every time Alice sees me come home, she asks, "Are you hot and sweaty and wet?" That's kinda cool for a couple reasons. First, it simply means I'm riding frequently enough that she's noticed, and that's good for me--it just means I'm riding a lot. But on a deeper level, I think/hope I'm helping impress on Alice that fitness and activity are important.
On the downside, she's learned from Trophy Wife that sweaty = gross, so neither one of them wants hugs when I get home ;)
Oh, and finally, a random cool pic I found on Flickr:
28 June 2008
11 June 2008
03 June 2008
Because the World Needs Yet One More Blog
Yup, it's 2008 and I'm finally starting a real live blog. Well, it's not live, but you get the idea.
With any luck, I can keep this thing relatively random and interesting at the same time. If not, it will at the very least serve as a Twitter-on-steroids to update family, friends, and cyberstalkers on my life.
And, while this blog won't be quite as polished as that of my stunning trophy wife (pictured at left--she's the one with the most hair), I'll do my best to maintain a modicum of grammar and spelling skills. When I'm not abusing the rules on purpose, that is.
Oh yeah, you might be wondering what topics to expect in this little exercise in narcissism. Will this be a nice focused blog, where you know you can go for the latest and greatest on, say, alternative energy, cycling, or politics? Hell, no! I'm gonna write whatever I dang well please. It might be a blurted non sequitur or an essay (but plan on the former). It might be about any of the above topics, or just whatever happens to catch my fancy, float my boat, or make me laugh/cry/spit.
What's up with the title of my blog, you ask? Well, thank you very much for asking. It's just one of those little things that stuck in my head (e.g., tryptophan is why warm milk makes you sleepy), that someone once said about the value of good cornering technique on a motorcycle: "Smoothness promotes aging."
Words to live by, indeed.
With any luck, I can keep this thing relatively random and interesting at the same time. If not, it will at the very least serve as a Twitter-on-steroids to update family, friends, and cyberstalkers on my life.
And, while this blog won't be quite as polished as that of my stunning trophy wife (pictured at left--she's the one with the most hair), I'll do my best to maintain a modicum of grammar and spelling skills. When I'm not abusing the rules on purpose, that is.Oh yeah, you might be wondering what topics to expect in this little exercise in narcissism. Will this be a nice focused blog, where you know you can go for the latest and greatest on, say, alternative energy, cycling, or politics? Hell, no! I'm gonna write whatever I dang well please. It might be a blurted non sequitur or an essay (but plan on the former). It might be about any of the above topics, or just whatever happens to catch my fancy, float my boat, or make me laugh/cry/spit.
What's up with the title of my blog, you ask? Well, thank you very much for asking. It's just one of those little things that stuck in my head (e.g., tryptophan is why warm milk makes you sleepy), that someone once said about the value of good cornering technique on a motorcycle: "Smoothness promotes aging."
Words to live by, indeed.
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