January 9, 2006 Throwback blog post.

Today’s post is going to be as stale as the gingerbread structure that I’m still working on. Ed says he enjoys my vintage posts, and I value his opinion. Except when it comes to the Avid BB7 brake calipers, which are garbage. Silly Briton is silly.

Anyway, this throwback post was written during my original Victoria days, back when I was certifiably poor, and a trip to Starbucks was considered a splurge. My then-roommate, Danica, taught me to embrace kitsch. If you don’t have the funds for tasteful décor, go big and go ugly. We had velvet paintings, an Astroturf rug and matching Astroturf topped coffee table with halved doll heads glued to the sides, a clawfoot bathtub, and a sink decorated with a hula skirt, a gold elephant clock with light-up flowers, and so on.

When Danica moved out, I took over her bedroom, which was actually a den and therefore had no closet, I found myself needing a dresser for my unmentionables. Why’d I taken over this room, then? It was large, had a fireplace, and a private balcony which was illuminated by a red lightbulb. It was my own little red light district, overlooking a tree decorated with baby doll parts.

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A week of recklessness.

I nearly made a trip-to-the-hospital mistake at work on Tuesday. I was checking the chain tension on a fixie by springboarding my fingertips on the top as I turned the crank. As my fingers were bouncing off the chain, the tip of my thumb began to get sucked in. I reflexively jerked back my hand before the drivetrain trapped it.

A fixie differs from a single speed in that the cog is tied to the motion of the pedals. Single speed bikes have a freewheel that allows you to coast downhill without pedalling like the devil to keep up with the spinning rear wheel. Ergo, the force generated by the spinning rear wheel of a fixie is strong enough to gobble up a digit or two.

I told a co-worker about the accident that almost was, and his response was: “Oh, yeah, that would have been really bad. People lose their fingers. There’s a website featuring photos of mangled mitts that were fed through the drivetrain.” (I’m paraphrasing.)

I don’t touch fixies often (they’re not as popular in Victoria as in Montréal), so I had let my guard down.

Yann says his shoelaces once got sucked into the drivetrain while riding a fixie: “My shoelaces broke, but my foot turned blue.”

Then, Wednesday morning, on my way to work, I nearly found myself in a visit-with-the-police situation.

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Things have gotten a trifle hairy.

I enjoyed writing that two-part post about Betting on Zero. This could be the future of Squaremeat: documentary reviews!

I recently sat through another documentary featuring a billionaire. Either we have so many of them, or billionaires are worth documenting on film. The appeal of writing about documentaries is that they welcome a barrage of opinions, and I could opine the heck out of American Factory. This film may warrant another 1000+ word post. For today, however, I’ll make proper use of this blog and document my life in this fair city.

A line drawing featuring a
A postcard I drew and mailed to a friend who’s recently relocated to Vernon, BC.

Continue reading “Things have gotten a trifle hairy.”