25 posts tagged “navel gazing”

Three days later, we are still a little dazed after a solid week of memes.  We have no idea - none at all - why memes were selected over the Question of the Day.  The lone dissenter Mariser said it best.  "Some QotD's are clever, others interesting, but memes are neither."  The responsibility for last weeks debacle lies squarely in our court, by which we mean: we should have known better than to trust the ignorant littles with a vote.  There's a reason hotrod.vox.com has been run historically with an iron fist.  The littles can't be trusted to mind the goddamn store.  Seriously, we give yinz an inch and look what happens.  It's bedlam.  As we return to our regularly scheduled programming starting tomorrow, it's safe to say we have effectively closed the book on any future gestures toward democracy.  Rejoice, for the oligarchy has been restored.  L'État, c'est nous.

In a closely-fought battle, QotD narrowly edged out Meme for suprema-  oh, wait....

Well, that happened.  I don't know quite what I expected when I opened the polling, but it wasn't that.  Hell, I'm surprised people even voted.  Even the elusive AmyH and Bookmole got in the act.  Anyway, Meme took an early lead and never looked back.  It wasn't even close.  Despite a half-hearted write in campaign for "the Vault," QotD lost to Fucking Meme like brownies at an outdoor concert.  I had no strong feelings about it either way - obviously - so I won't pretend to be disappointed about how the voting went.  This was always a lose/lose situation for me.

But as long as this is the last time I have the floor for the next week, here's a few final thoughts about the candidates.  First of all, Mariser is absolutely dead-on about QotD's relevance - or lack thereof.  After last year's undertaking, I initially thought I'd welcome something different this year.  Most of those questions make my brain cry.  But in some ways, I imagine memes might be even worse.  Even answering the most insipid questions last year, I was usually able to work in a few juvenile fart jokes to amuse myself.  But with memes, I'm at the mercy of their authors.  The only creative outlet I foresee is trying to creatively dodge those questions I don't want to answer.  (I mean, other than all of them.)  Unless there is something I am missing - and I sure as shit hope there is - for the next week, I'll be abandoning control of not just content but also tone.  Except for in the comments, natch.

So in a way, memes might even be better than the Question of the Day for getting me back into a groove.  These blog slumps are not so much with me a phase in which I can't find the right words, but a phase in which I can't decide what to write about at all.  And maybe those numbers to the left don't indicate that I'm in a slump, but I definitely feel like I am.  The only proven way out seems to be shock therapy.  So this is a good thing, right?  If Questions of the Day left me a hollow shell of a man, Fucking Memes will likely leave me a whimpering puddle on the floor.  God help us all.

We don't often ask for reader feedback around here - mainly because we don't usually care to call attention to the fact that we have, like, three readers - but we're kinda stuck on an issue we don't really care about either way and we're willing to consider some outside opinions.  The thing is....  we're traditionalists, you see, and last year we followed up our anniversary post with an exercise intended to get us through the doldrums of writers' block.  We had intended to do the same thing this year.  You know....  just because.  (Consider yinzself forewarned when October rolls around.)  But then we thought: maybe instead of the Questions of the Day we could take the opportunity to indulge some of those *shudder" memes we've seen on other blogs.  Rest assured, the editorial staff of hotrod.vox.com wants no part of either, but this sort of mandatory daily posting exercise (without limitation) has proven useful in the past and we honestly don't care which approach we take.  Yinz could consider a vote for Meme as a vote for Change and a vote for QotD as a vote for Experience - or something - but that is almost certainly overthinking it.  However, this is also almost certainly the least important decision yinz might ever get to make, so it kinda seems a shame to waste it.

We intend to compose our introductory post around this time tomorrow with the festivities proper beginning on Friday.  So if anyone caress, let us know in the comments.  We're looking for a simple plurality.  Otherwise, Questions will from here on out be "heads" and Memes will be "tails."

Today marks the second anniversary of our little corner of the Voxosphere, and it's been another busy year for hotrod.vox.com.  Aside from finally growing up and adding capital letters to our arsenal of prose, we've welcomed some new faces and we've seen some others gradually drift away.  Our sisters joined us for a bit, blowing in on a whirlwind of comments and departing almost as abruptly.  An old friend from high school randomly found us - little old us - out of all the many Vox pages from which to choose.  That may have a little something to do with the good people at Six Apart finally recognizing the sharp social commentary our organization offers on a semi-regular basis (i.e. when we feel like blogging).  Sharp social commentary like:

• Our thoughts about the long-awaited big screen treatment of our life story.
• Our feud with Guitar Hero (and our subsequent reconciliation).
• Our report on our summer vacation.
• Our unwavering dedication to the rock and roll.
• Our initial foray into the live-blog paradigm.
• Our pearls of wisdom in our "Rules for Life" series.
  
• Our continuing exploration of the questions that haunt men's souls.
• And our faithful documentation of occasions when DC area Voxers get together....
• ....such as at the newly revitalized Karaoke to the Death.

But it hasn't been all serious reporting for the past year.  There's been some time for fun and games.  There were a whole bunch of challenges from various members of the 'hood, and we won them all.  The only challenge we didn't win was our own.  (And - frankly - we failed miserably.)  But despite our sterling record, we think we will have to put the challenges behind us for the coming year.  Our latest ended badly with a breach of contract on the part of the loser after our victory.  The whole episode has soured us on the enterprise; it's just not the same any more.  Consider this the announcement of our retirement, undefeated, immediately upon the conclusion of our "yoga is easy challenge" at the end of this calendar year.

Even without the occasional challenge, though, we are looking forward to year three of hotrod.vox.com.  We don't have children of our own, but we have nieces and (now plural) nephews.  That third year is when they really start to become fun.  No more poopy pants here!  We're big kids now!!

America's Most Beautiful Bike Ride is today.  It's happening right now.  If I were there, I'd likely have recently left the lunch stop at King's Beach and would be mentally bracing myself for the long, slow climb up Spooner Mountain.  I was supposed to be there.

I look forward to the ride around Lake Tahoe every year, and it disappoints me that I had to pull the plug on this ride about six weeks ago.  50/50 Club aside, even after the weather became temperate this spring I was far too busy to train adequately and to raise the money.  And most significantly, I doubted that I would even be able to take the time off work to make the trip, which turned out exactly to be the case.  So for the first time since 2003 I am at home in Virginia on the first weekend in June, wishing I was in the mountainous west.

The thing about the long bike rides is that even though they may not be enjoyable for every single moment I am on my bicycle, they are always enjoyable after the fact.  There is something deeply satisfying about completing a goal that sounds borderline insane.  Below is a recap (as long as I've gotten to rehashing older material) of my second tour around the pond and I think it's about the best job I have ever done of capturing exactly why these rides are so important to me.  I'm generally not so great with words, but I do get lucky sometimes.
 

Heartbreakers

All told, I spent eleven hours in four different airports last Friday, and arrived at my destination at 4AM EDT.  I once spent twelve hours in JFK and was awake for about 40 due to a cancelled flight, and I can say without the risk of hyperbole that this was a million times worse.  At least when I touched down after that marathon I was in Shanghai, rather than the self-proclaimed Biggest Little City in the World.  And American gave me 50,000 miles for my trouble.  America West didn't even buy us lunch.  A wise man once said "The waiting is the hardest part."  After Friday, I was inclined to agree with him.

Saturday, fortunately, passed almost entirely without incident.  I retrieved my bicycle from Ziva's room to find it had come off the truck with a flat, but I managed to change the tube in about five minutes - a far cry from the feature-length comedy of errors that was my first attempt not so very long ago.  We went for our short ride and then I met up with Bill, who drove up from San Francisco for the penny slots and a beer at the Hard Rock Cafe.  After the pasta dinner, I prepared my gear for the next day's ride and shut off the light at about nine-thirty to get some sleep.

Except I didn't.  I tossed and turned all night.  I didn't sleep well last year, either, but at least I slept some.  I may have drifted off for a few minutes here and there on Saturday night, but I got absolutely no meaningful sleep.  And as if to add insult to injury, Sunday morning the toilet in our room backed up, limiting us to the casino bathroom.

I couldn't for the life of me recall anything of last year's climb at Emerald Bay save for the small puddle of somebody else's breakfast at the top.  I figured this meant that I either flew up the hill in my post-Mt. Weather euphoria or I blocked it out almost entirely.  I must have blocked it out.  And perhaps this time next year, I won't remember the wind, but I doubt it.  This was easily the windiest ride I have ever done.  I heard the official estimate was forty mile-per-hour winds, but I can't vouch for it.  I do know that it was brisk, relentless, and came from every direction except directly behind us.  I can think of few things more disheartening than pedaling downhill at nine miles an hour.  Even Spooner Summit seemed to taunt me: after a long eight mile and 800' climb, my reward was a short break and a gusty descent that was even more nerve-wracking than a year ago.  And yeah, I had to pedal a couple of times there too.

I don't mind telling you that two days ago was not my best day on a bicycle.  Well, on second thought, yeah, I do mind a bit.  I am trying hard not to be disappointed that I got my ass kicked eight ways from Sunday.  I know I am a stronger cyclist than that, but I had a rough day.  It happens.  It's unfortunate when it happens on ride day, but those are the breaks.  I am already looking forward to a better ride next year.

I didn't have a personal connection to the cause when I first got involved with Team in Training.  I just thought riding my bike around Lake Tahoe would be a cool thing to do - and yeah, it's for charity, so that's kinda cool too.  But after sixteen months and three centuries, I have met so many wonderful people that I am personally involved by now.  I'll be honest, more than once on Sunday, when it seemed that there was no gas left in the tank, I thought about calling it quits.  But I knew I couldn't.  The people that we all ride for - they can't quit; it's simply not an option.  And as much as I was miserable - and I was, trust me - quitting was not an option for me either.  So I kept on until I crossed the finish line, as did so many others, even though it was the furthest thing from easy I could possibly imagine at 4:30PM PDT, Sunday June 5, 2005.  Two days later, I feel fine, and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society - thanks to you and me and the friends and family of 1,900 other cyclists - is seven million dollars closer to finding a cure for cancer.  For me, that's enough to gladly endure any minor heartbreak life throws my way.

Jodi doesn't seem to know when to quit.  Not content just to send another pie to the east coast in Dabysan's "52 Post in 52 Weeks Challenge," and despite that she has yet to win any of our little wagers, she seems to think I'll be unable to manage seven measly posts in seven measly days about things I like and/or enjoy.  Well, I am up to that challenge.  The archive numbers around here may be thin of late, but this is just the sort of incentive I need to kick the blog back into gear.  It's on.

Look for my debut post - "The Gauntlet" - in this gripping new series later today.  Following is a list of items I enjoy that I will not be writing about in the next week.

According to the counter to the left (and why would it lie?) this humble post is our 500th here at hotrod.vox.com.  Five hundred posts, and nearly all of them are like spun gold.  Wow.  We pretty much rule.  We're pleased to have lasted this long, especially considering that the numbers marking our more recent output indicate that we may be running out of things to say.  We're thinking we need to develop a new hobby like philately or spelunking or yoga.  Otherwise we might have to resort to composing thrilling tales about fish and other assorted marine life.  And we think it's safe to say that nobody wants that.

Today is not a significant day.  But then, neither was yesterday - and yet thick-necked fraternity brothers and vacuous sorority sisters everywhere commemorated the non-occasion with three dollar mojitos and unplanned pregnancies.  So perhaps the great unwashed might also one day remember this uneventful day.  With a massive marketing campaign and a vague (at best) understanding of the flimsy history involved - all supported by the entire weight of a legalized drug industry, natch - we here at hotrod.vox.com think there just might be an outside chance they will.  Step three: profit.

Today marks the one week anniversary of the first day we might have posted our inaugural installment of our intended new weekly feature "the vault."  And today marks the first deadline we set for ourselves pertaining to said feature that we have missed.  We anticipate that it will be the first of many, which is why after considerable deliberation our editorial staff has decided to delay the debut of this much-anticipated column.  Astute readers no doubt will have noted a more sporadic than usual posting schedule here at hotrod.vox.com over the past six weeks or so.  After careful study of our second quarter projections, we expect this trend to continue into the summer.  Things are just way too hectic down at the lab, what with a high-profile study of the University of Maryland's indigenous turtle population occupying most of our time.  The last thing we want is to begin a regular feature for which our massive readership awaits weekly with bated breath and then not be able to follow through.  So look for "the vault" to resume - or to begin, rather - in July.

Make no mistake - this delay has nothing to do with the record we selected to review in our initial installment.  It sucks.  Really, really bad.  We can't wait to write the review, actually.  We just don't have the time.

This past week most certainly did not go as we had anticipated.  After several weeks of near-constant scrambling down at the lab, we thought on Monday we might actually be able to relax a little.  As it happened, this was our busiest week in a while and we didn't have any time even to manage the ol' blog.  On behalf of the entire staff of hotrod.vox.com, we apologize and offer an overdue and abbreviated glimpse of the week that could have been.

hotrod's birthday (observed):  Many, many thanks are due the organizer and attendees of our birthday festivities, which transpired Sunday evening.  Our official birthday is in September, but we didn't celebrate then.  We never do.  It usually takes people about six months to remember that they missed it.

challenged:  The New Pornographers played two sold out shows at the 9:30 Club this week.  We didn't attend either performance, but we did read with some glee the interview with Carl Newman in which he stated that DC is the best town for music but that despite that fact the New Pornos always play shitty shows here.  And that he's a hack.  Get your shit together, Post Express.  We already knew all that.

mum's the word:  Some losers at our college started a movement (of sorts) to paint their fingernails red on the first anniversary of the Virginia Tech massacre as a way to honor the victims.  For the record, Virginia Tech's colors are orange and puce.  We suspect these guys were just looking for an excuse to wear nail polish.

holy shit:  The Pope seriously fucked up our morning commute.

hungry heart:  Danny Federici - multi-instrumentalist and original member of the E Street Band - died this week.  Rest in peace, and cue the video.

seven-inch:  Today is Record Store Day, so get out there and buy some CD's from somebody in your neighborhood.  Steve Jobs is killing music.  He's evil incarnate.  And we realize this item could have stood on its own now that we've got some time.  But fuck it, we're on a roll.

I was going to get to this song eventually, and today is as good a day as any.  I've been a fan of Will Oldham since the very first notes of the very first song of his that I heard.  That was back in '95, mere days before leaving college behind forever.  The Bonnie Prince recorded the best album released in 1999 and the following year, my hero Johnny Cash covered the title track for his third "American" record.  His cover of Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt" - from "American IV" - gets all the press, but this song - both cover and original - is way better.  The original Bonnie Prince backs up the Man in Black on the chorus.  Lucky!