Monday, November 21, 2011

"I Have a Plan"

On Friday I got this enigmatic text from my daughter: "Wat time r u going to b home? I have a plan."

I have a plan...

...I figured what possibly could be better than starting the weekend than with a 15 year old that has a plan? And I was right. Her plan was to produce a music video and she told me that she would need the following:

  1. Three video cameras and a couple of tripods
  2. Direct access to some of my biking buddies
  3. A few hours with me in my biking clothes
  4. My unwavering trust and commitment to her vision
It was fascinating being a bit player in this mysterious master plan - watching her interview my friends, direct me to "bike up that hill", and setup and take down cameras and tripods. She even convinced my wife to drive the car around the neighborhood car while she took time lapse pictures from the passenger seat.

Sunday afternoon she hunkered down in front of her computer - clicking like mad and occasionally laughing out loud. That evening she proudly shared her rough cut edit with me, and what had been a whirlwind of seemingly disjoint activities suddenly came into sharp focus. It's really quite remarkable when you throw yourself at the mercy of your kid and they reward you with something so creative.

Chris


"It's fun to have fun, but you have to know how."
     --Dr. Seuss

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Even When it Sucks, It's Fun!


I knew it would be a beat down.  Oh it started off innocently enough early Sunday morning. Six cars in the local bike shop parking lot. Crisp cool air, lots of bikes, and freshly baked oatmeal cookies. But there was no kidding myself, it would be a beat down.

An hour later we were at Fair Hill and six thousand acres of sweet single track was begging to be ridden. And ride we did. After a couple of hours and of awesome single track, some modest attrition, and some scenic rest stops (throwing banana peels in front of other riders), I was hanging off the back of the pack - barely. My tank was more empty than full and my legs were talking to me.  The beat down phase was commencing.  At three hours in, my thighs were past burning...now they were like cement, on the verge of cramping up completely. Yet while my body was screaming at me in protest,  my mind wasn't listening because it was having too much damn fun...

...is that weird?

Chris

"Suffering has a luminous beauty, and cleanses the mind in much the same way a wildfire clears an overgrown forest." 
     -- Mike Ferrentino

“Art is suffering." 
     -- Squidward Tentacles