June 7th, 2015


Hoo, boy...

Hot, hot weekend. Yesterday was in the low 90s (I ended the morning's 5-mile run right at 3.9 miles, because it was suddenly clear I was done). Today was 96o, and felt hotter because it was a little muggy. My bike ride went from aiming for about 24 miles to maybe 22 miles and then, "Nope—I have to quit right now, 1/3 mile before even the shortest distance." Ugh. Both days, it took me about an hour to recuperate from overheating, and by then it was 1:30-2pm.

In addition to the heat, today's ride featured a great blue heron, and a guy drafting off of me for over 6 miles without even asking (typical). Last weekend, I picked up a hitchiker along the parkway, but it wasn't the usual cute ladybug or even a beetle. Instead, I looked down and saw yellow and black antenna and part of a body underneath my cyclometer, next to the 'Pause' button. This happened near my turnaround point, so I kept checking on the bug's location and thinking, "Don't press the pause button. Don't press the pause button" just so I wouldn't forget and get stung. The creature—a wasp—crawled on top of the cyclometer, got blown off onto the center bar and then closer to me. It was near my legs by then, and I've been stung there before, so I pulled over to let it escape. Whew!

Speaking of "Whew," I finally finished The Shining. It... did not thrill me. The foreshadowing seemed really heavy-handed, I hated how the female character was written, the five-year-old-boy often seemed more like 9 or 10, and there are times King really seems wedded to the Magical Negro stereotype (though that was my favorite character). I much preferred the sequel, Doctor Sleep, which had an unsettling spookiness about it that is more typical of King's son's writing.

With that out of the way, I started Egg and Spoon. This book has the feeling of several overlapping wisps of Russian folk tales, with wry interjections by the narrator. The style reminds me a bit of reckless_blues, and the rendering of Baba Yaga here is everything you could hope for and more. I'm almost halfway through already.

Movie-wise, we watched Three Days To Kill last weekend (more of a comedy than a thriller, and we loved the comedy parts), and we're now watching Paul. I was sure this last movie was PG-13, because it feels like that should be the audience. But no, it's rated R, thanks to a ton of misplaced cuss words—because heaven forbid a movie should get a PG-13 rating! Clearly, that would mean it was no good! Argh.

Now, courtesy of our son, have some links to a bizarrely funny set of toilet paper commercials: Sir Froggy, Daddy Gator, Birds, Conductor Randy, Great Grandpa Thaddeus, and Little Miss Puffytail. Good times. :)