Politics, open government, and safe streets. And the constant incursion of cycling.

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Le Tour est mort. Vive Le Tour!

Something was missing, this morning. It started off in the usual routine – grab a Diet Coke, sit down at my desk, check messages. Start the Slingbox client to have today’s stage on in the backgrou . . . oh.  Le Tour is over. And I miss it already.

I’m not sure how this happened, me becoming someone who values watching a sports event. I’ve never been much of a spectator – you couldn’t drag me to a football game, baseball games are only enjoyable for the lazing in the sun, and in any event, I’d much rather spend my time doing something than watching it. But something is different, with the Tour.

I ascribe much of it to an ability to identify with the riders. Not that we’ve anything actually in common, of course. Alejandro Pettachi can bump against 50mph on a flat sprint – I’ll be lucky to get much past 30mph.  I’m ready to take a day or three off after a hard century ride, but the entire Tour peloton does it for three straight weeks. But there is something there – some familiarity.  I do know the fear of high speed mountain descents.  The desperate efforts to hang on to the back of the peloton in a race.  But there’s something more.  And I think Ursula captured it pretty well, over at PodiumCafe:

Sports are so popular because they are a distillation of this courage/suffering struggle.  With sports we can sometimes catch a glimpse of this struggle and the attempts to overcome it. But where sports comes up short to often is that we spectators usually only see the final sprint, so to speak.  The games of most sports are too short to see  the full struggle, the full futility of what the athletes are attempting to do.  We only see the glory.  True, we see “losers” but these athletes don’t really lose, because coming in second is not a loss.  They still finished with style.  Sure its disappointing to come in second but really is oh, Zidane really suffering for coming in 2nd last year?  How about the Chicago Bears?  The silver medalists at the Olympics?  Not really.

Of all the sports and the sporting events the Tour de France (and the other two Grand Tours) comes closest to life.  The TdF goes way beyond a marathon to where its hard to even see the beginning of the race when we are at the end.  In the TdF everybody loses, even [Tour winner Alberto Contador].   Everyone suffers humiliation, a million humiliations for three weeks.  The Tour is too stupidly hard for any of the racers to do otherwise.

We don’t watch the Tour because we want to see the humiliations.  We watch because we can identify with the struggle against them.  We watch because the riders don’t give up.  The keep at it, trying to overcome those humiliations again and again.  Mile after mile.  Stage after stage.  Year after year.

Le Tour est mort.  Vive Le Tour.

Somebody Hide The Button!

Please.

Watch out!


Above, the Wicked Witch of the West gives chase at today’s Muddy Buddy race in Richmond, Virginia.

I’ve got tons of great photos from this event, as well as last week’s Philadelphia Women’s Triathlon. But between having to wait until my Philly hate subsides (seriously, WTF is *wrong* with you people?) and Saturday’s dislocated shoulder (oops), it’s slow going at Blacknell.net World HQ.

Sly Stone: Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)

If you want me to stay
I’ll be around today
To be available for you to see
I’m about to go
And then you’ll know
For me to stay here I’ve got to be me

If You Want Me to Stay, Sly & The Family Stone

I don’t write about music much, because . . . well . . . I can’t.  Just never have found the words to capture what it is that grabs me about a song, composition, or artist.  So I’ll just leave it at this, for now: if I were packing my bags for the Desert Island Permanent Vacation, I’d be sure to include the entire works of Sly & the Family Stone.   It’s not just a soundtrack of my life thing – it’s a brilliant music thing.  Which brings me to the next part:  the reason that we’ve got that brilliant music -  Sly Stone.

He’s not dead, you know.  His appearance at the Grammy’s last year probably reminded a few people of that.  For the most part, though, I think he’s rather widely assumed to be dead.  Most of the best stars of his time are, right?  Well, this Vanity Fair interview (!!!) reminds us that he’s not.    For the most part, I’ve very little use for celebrity.  I don’t care who Tom Cruise is keeping in his basement, and please god get the pictures of Britney away from me.  But there are still a few public figures I’d really like to know more about.  Sly is one of them.  From the interview:

Sly Stone is my favorite of the rock-era recluses, and, really, the only big one left. Syd Barrett, the architect of Pink Floyd’s entrancingly loopy early sound, passed away last summer at the age of 60, having resisted all entreaties to explain himself or sing again. Brian Wilson, the fragile visionary behind the Beach Boys, has been gently coaxed out of his shell by his friends and acolytes, and now performs and schmoozes regularly. He doesn’t count as a recluse anymore. But Sly has remained elusive—still with us, yet seemingly content to do without us.

Content to do without us.  See why I like this guy?

I start the interview in earnest with the most obvious question: “Why have you chosen to come back now?”

At this, he grins. “‘Cause it’s kind of boring at home sometimes.”

Read it.  And then cross your fingers that he’s going to alleviate that boredom in front of us.

Watch the Space Shuttle Chase the ISS

Courtesy of this reminder by Brian at Outdoor Type, I just watched the International Space Station and Space Shuttle streak across the sky.  Awe inspiring.  Depending on where you live, you may still have another couple of chances to see it.  If you live in or around DC, see this link.  If you live elsewhere, drop your city into the “Sighting Opportunities” query engine at NASA and cross your fingers.  So very very cool.

Goodbye, Mr. Wizard.

There weren’t many good things about my childhood move from Hawaii to New Jersey (really, what kind of horrible thing is that to do to a kid?).  But one undeniably good thing was that the new local television station carried Mr. Wizard.  I *loved* that show.  Science was never cooler.

Don Herbert – Mr. Wizard – died today, aged 89.  Thank you, Mr. Herbert, for everything.

Friday Notes

Okay, let’s get this out of the way: ha ha!

I am anti-cat (unless, say, we’re talking about solid fuel replacements), but this is great. Follow the photo tour.

More lies about New Orleans? I’d really like it to turn out that this guy is overreacting, but I don’t think he is at all . . .

If you’re interested in amateur racing in the DC/Mid-Atlantic region, and you haven’t checked out GamJams.net yet, do it. Mike May keeps us up to date on which races are coming up, and what happened in the races that just finished. And yes, I’d say he has an excellent eye for header graphics . . .

The Economics of NYC Businesses. Whether it is to my detriment or credit, I’m not sure, but I’ve no particular interest in making money for the sake of making money. But I always find the bottom line economics of a given store or industry fascinating. It’s a well organized quick read – check it out.

I used to think it was a big deal when all the tanks used to come rolling down Gersfelderstraße in my old village. But I never saw anything like this.

Reality Check

This last weekend found me in Stokesville, Virginia for the Virginia IMBA Mountain Biking Festival. I’d never had a chance to ride any of the trails out there, and I figured that it would be an excellent way to assess the advisability of me actually competing in the Shenandoah Mountain 100 this year. A number of the group rides would follow the SM100 course, and the plan was to take advantage of those rides to see as much of the course as possible. All the while having a grand time.

Well, something like that.

Mourning the Cutty Sark

In case you haven’t heard, the Cutty Sark is no more. The New York Times is treating the emotional impact of the loss of the clipper ship as something of a curiosity, which I suppose is understandable for a paper with a readership that likely has little to no connection with the Cutty Sark. But in Britain – and for many of us around the world – the Cutty Sark was something important, tied up in history and shared memories.

My own connection with the Cutty Sark comes from a simple photograph. Taken by my father in the mid-60s, it was framed and hung in every house we ever lived in as a family. The towns and furniture changed a dozen or more times, but the picture was a constant. Seeing the Cutty Sark in person on my first trip to Greenwich (20-something years ago, now that I think about it) was as exciting as anything else I’d ever seen.

And now it’s gone.

Cutty Sark

Image from Graham Binns.

Fora.tv: Sharpton v. Hitchens

A while back, I added a link to Fora.tv. I regret not doing more to promote them – they’ve really done an excellent job of covering and making available all sorts of interesting intellectual events that would otherwise have gone unnoticed. So it shames me, to a certain extent, that it’s something of a tabloid event that brings me to link them again. Here is the Rev. Al Sharpton v. Christopher Hitchens debate on the existence of a divine being:

Sigh. Easy embedding is apparently a 2008 technology. So click here for the video.

It’s really quite entertaining, as you might expect. Both Sharpton and Hitchens possess abilities far beyond their varying causes, and that’s on full display here.

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