Whats T doin?

The race team and the dust bowl

noreply@blogger.com (Taylor) — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 18:18:00 +0000

Well, so much for posting in a timely manner, but i've been busy lately.

If you’re interested in getting caught up in the story, you can do so here. http://whatstdoin.blogspot.com

Mike and I woke up the next morning at about 10:30 and had breakfast, cold cereal, milk, coffee and a banana. Packed up camp (put away the 2 folding chairs) and hit the road. The eco-system changed almost immediately. We went from Fresno to barren Utah almost instantly and a few hours later it turned into Africa high dessert. It was a long drive. With not much to see.

We went hours without seeing anything man made. Every once in awhile there would be a police check point in the middle of no where and we’d have to get out and switch seats because I had forgotten to get my international drivers license. For the most part it was my day to drive though. I had it much easier then Mike, very little traffic for me to deal with.

After several hours on the road we pulled into Neuquen. We knew this was a pretty big city and we headed down town and had a burger and pizza. Then it was off to the store for supplies followed by a run to the gas station for ice and then back to the store for pasta sauce which we had forgotten. We were anxious to get to a place to camp.

I had been warned about “Argentinean time” and thought I had prepared myself for it. I was wrong. 30 minutes in the checkout line. I was losing my mind this checker was so slow. I realized I just had to deal with it and bit my tongue, not that he would have understood the things I was going to tell him except for a few choice words I believe that are probably international. After the first till change and the two subsequent price checks I was out the door. We headed to a river bank and again pitched camp. More pasta and some idle chatter and we were out.

We woke up this morning and headed to the rally. We spent the better part of 3 hours watching the rally vehicles go by. We were parked on the side of the road across the street from a gas station. They weren’t at speed, just kind of cruising.

The way it works is they pitch a sort of tent city each night where all the racers and support vehicles stay together. Over 2000 vehicles total are on this massive caravan across these two countries plus fans like Mike and I who are in tow in non official vehicles. The race crews receive the directions for the following day in the evening. They work on the vehicles for a good portion if not all of the night and go to bed. They get up in the morning and pack up. Then they drive to a specified location to start the timed portion of the rally. That pre-timed distance can be from 10 to 500 km depending on the day. Then they start the timed portion of the event again, anywhere from 100 to 600 km. They take off staggered and race like crazy to get to the end point often having to check in with digital way points along the way. They just have to pass with in so many kilometers of the way point for it to register. Keep in mind that they don’t have any of this info until the night before. The motorcycles actually have a rolling navigation system on the handle bars. It looks like a big spool of register tape that they have a thumb button to advance it. Each frame contains a small black and white line on the basic lay out of the section. How many kilometers before they have to advance the tape to the next section and any hazards or road conditions they may encounter in the current section. They race through this information until they reach the end of the timed portion and then they have another 10 to 500 km to drive before they reach the bivouac / place they are camping and start the whole process all over again for 15 days.

The race is roughly 6000 miles. It’s called the Dakar Road Rally and can be found on line at Dakar.com. It got its name because it used to run in Africa at Dakar. This is the first year it has been in South America. They moved it for security issues. Last year it was canceled on 12 hours notice because of death threats against spectators and participants. The year before 2 participants and 3 spectators were killed. The area was so unstable that when they got to the Libyan border, they had to air lift the whole race over the country…

Anyhow, we ended up at the bivouac and used the wristband for tomorrow’s bivouac to get us into today’s. Security is not real tight. It was really a pretty amazing sight. All of these vehicles parked together and working there asses off to get the racers and equipment ready for the next day. Mike was going out of his mind. Mike’s a bit of a gear head and this whole thing had been described to us as Burning Man for gear heads. They were right. After wandering around and many photos, we found the reason we came.

My buddy Mike and I have been friends since kindergarten, chances are if you are reading this you have met him or at least heard me tell stories about him. Recently we had reconnected at a couple of parties and were touching base a little more often. Which if you’re also reading this you know is a feat for me since I’m am absolutely horrible at staying in touch with anyone.
At any rate, Mike gave me a call sometime in mid October and said “Hey, The Dakar Rally is coming up. You want to go.”
“Sure.” I replied.
“Do you want to know where it is?”
“Yeah”
“Argentina and Chili, you still want to go?”
“Yeah, sounds like fun.”
“I’m thinking of going rugged, rent a pickup, camp on the side of the road and chase the drivers.”
“Sounds like more fun. You book the truck, ill book the airfare.”
And so it was hatched. Later on I got another phone call.
“It sure would be nice if we could get into the pits so we could see the cars” Mike said
“Yeah, it would.”
Still later another phone call.
Mike: “Ok, I sponsored a race team. There are only 3 drivers from the US and 2 of them are on motorcycles. I started emailing the crew chief of one of the bike teams and asking him if it was even feasible to try and chase the race in a truck and the whole thing just kind of grew from that. So now it’s the Double Diamond KTM Racing Team with driver Jonah Street" (Mike owns a gym/sport facility in Reno called the Double Diamond Athletic Club.) Well, that took care of problems getting into the bivouac.

So, we met the race team for the first time, (we had met them briefly at a gas station but things were pretty rushed.) This is a small team, 1 driver, 1 mechanic, 1 crew chief, 1 motorcycle, 1 support truck. Compared to the other end of the spectrum where some of the factory sponsored guys like KTM have 6 riders, 15 trucks, and 30 staff. Some of the trucks on these teams are set up for specific things, 1 truck for rebuilding the bike engines one truck for changing tires, one truck for clutches ect. They also have on their team’s professional masseuses to take care of the drivers after the run.

They don’t expect all of their riders to place on these teams but there are pretty specific rules about how many engine changes and things you can have so they pretty much use these bikes to cannibalize for parts (enter extra riders so they have extra parts on hand.) or for example if on the coarse there lead rider blows a tire they’ll wait for one of the lower riders to catch up to the guy who blew his tire and then take the tire off his bike so the leader can keep his time up. If you’re getting the idea our team is a bit of an underdog, you’re getting the right idea. Did I mention were in second place over all in the bike class? It’s been an exciting few days.

So, were in the pits / bivouac. I’m fairly surprised at where they decided to park these guys for the night. They are in a silt bed, literally 4 inches of powdered dirt and the wind is howling. Most people are wearing goggles just so you can walk around and attempt to see. Without goggles it’s pretty hopeless, all you can do is turn away from the wind gusts and close your eyes lest you end up with a sandbox in your face. I had to go back to the truck and get my wind goggles. I half expected to see the guy from Road Warrior yelling "Just walk away and leave that fat tank of gas..." We did a bit of walking around and some pictures and then I decided to peace out and go back to the truck. I left Mike talking to the pit crew. Back at the truck I worked on the blogs a bit while Mike had a good time talking to the driver and crew and further exploring the pits.

By the time we left it was already 8pm which isn’t that big a deal since the sun doesn’t set here until about 10pm. We headed north out of Neuquen to get a jump on heading to the timed stage area. We wanted to see these guys at full speed. We figured we’d get up there, camp and see them in the morning. True to the K.S.N.S., we got lost on the way and did an extra hour detour in some small town called Catriel on the way. I was getting a little eggy because I was getting tired of pitching camp in the dark but at this point it was a grin and bare it kind of thing. We drove until 1am out into the dessert until we passed a random gas station that had a few police cars on the side of it at the entrance of a dirt road. Mike suspected this was it, to burnt to look for a proper camp site we just pulled onto the shoulder, had some pasta and fell asleep. Btw, it’s possible this is the dirtiest I’ve ever been. We haven’t had a shower since we left Argentina and the dust bath in the pits was pretty incredible.

Picking up the truck and leaving Buenos Aries.

noreply@blogger.com (Taylor) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 17:41:00 +0000

If you’re interested in getting caught up in the story, you can do so here. http://whatstdoin.blogspot.com

Picking up the truck and leaving Buenos Aries.

Mike and I got a cab right in front of the hotel after checking out to go pick up the truck. It was apparent the guy had no idea where we were going. There was much talking back and forth between the door man at the hotel and the cabby. The only thing that I figured out was coachay must mean truck as the doorman kept pointing to us, saying coachay and making a driving motion like he was steering a car with his hands.

15 minutes later we pulled up at a race track and the cabby turned to us, smiled and said “coachay” while pointing at the race track. Mike who has significantly more Spanish under his belt then me. (He has one year of JC Spanish in 94) was doing a much better job of communicating then I was.

We chatted with the cabby for a while who was still at a loss and it wasn’t until I drew a map that he started to figure out where we were supposed to be. 20 minutes later we arrived at the coach rental place.

I took a picture of the truck and will upload it into the blog when I get home. It’s a Ford Ranger with a large camper shell. It comes equipped with a small fridge, and a single burner, silver and plates for 2, pots and pans, and a plug. It had all the amenities of home.

It actually took us a lot longer to check out then I thought. There was a lot to cover. Rules of the road as well as safety issues and getting the thing paid for. At any rate, it was a good hour and half. We got on the road at about 1pm.

It’s a little difficult to explain what was going on emotionally as we pulled out of the lot. We had both seen the way people drive here and we knew that the lines on the road were merely suggestions or perhaps a sort of brail guide system for the blind because they sure weren’t there for the general population to use.

The language barrier became even blindingly more apparent as we pulled onto the highway. We had taken, oh I don’t know, 5 minutes before we pulled out of the yard to plan our route for the next 6 hours and we had it pretty dialed accept the simple little step of getting out of Buenos Aries. Literally within 2 minutes we were on the wrong highway. This was not nearly as interesting as trying not to get killed by the other maniacs on the road. BTW, when you do get lost, it's a little exciting because u turns are illegal here.

As we buzzed down the wrong highway we saw a Elwallmarto on the side of the road. There is something oddly comforting about seeing a chain you’re familiar with in a foreign country. We decided to pull over and take care of our camping needs. 750 pesos or 250 US and we were back on the road. Simple shopping list:

Eggs, coffee, cereal, milk, juice, yogurt, a lot of water, meats, fruits, bread, condiments, a cooler, pasta and sauce.

We were back on the road. On the highway, off the highway, in the residential zone, making u turns and driving the wrong way up one way streets. An hour and a half later we were out of Buenos Aries and undaunted by are unplanned tour of several neighborhoods. We were smiling and laughing, the tension of driving in a big city faded from us both as we shot down the road toward Fresno…

We were headed south west towards Santa Rosa. It was really about 2:30 as we left Buenos. We headed out across the country and I kid you not, it was exactly like driving to Fresno or anywhere in the central valley of California. Beautiful but, it was a lot of driving, 700km the first day. By the time we pulled into Santa Rosa, it was dark, and it was about midnight. Keeping with the spirit of the trip, we haven’t made any reservations anywhere. We did discover a few things on our trip between the cities.

1. The GPS unit is off. It puts us from 50 to several housand feet from our actual point on the map sort of randomly deciding just how far off course it would like to put us at any given time.

2. The guide book of maps we purchased doesn’t have most of the cities were stopping in and for some reason

3. The large fold out map doesn’t have any of the highway names or numbers listed on it.

As I sit here rereading this to Mike, he described it as our “kinda sorta navigation system” you never know exactly where you are, but you’re not gunna get too lost.

Santa Rosa was much bigger than either of us was expecting and speaking of expectations I should interject a little more here. I was really expecting something much more third world then what is happening here in Argentina. It has been clean, the infrastructure is outstanding, and the people on the whole are friendly. Mike and I have been joking about it quite a bit.

I think because he and I have both been to Africa and seen just the crazy poverty there that we assumed that the race that moved from that location was probably going to be running through the same sort of thing. Plus, I hate to say it, but when anyone says anything about South America, I think bad parts of Mexico. This is not Mexico. We rounded the corner into Santa Rosa and ran right into a Casino. Not some crappy casino, like a full on Neon, fountains, bright lights big city kind of thing. Actually, it’s odd. Other then the traffic and some of the construction, you wouldn’t think u were out of the country. We have also been surprised at how light skinned everyone is. Another stereo type from Mexico I’m sure.

We pulled into Santa Rosa and used the Kind Sorta Navigation System (from now on referred to a K.S.N.S.) to promptly get us lost. 45 minutes later, it’s pitch black and we're headed down some dirt road that looks sketchy in just about every way imaginable. Undriveable, and unsafe. Deciding that we don’t have to do every crazy adventure the first night we turn around and start to head out of town and in the general direction of Neuquen. We headed that way for about 20 minutes and then pulled over on a dirt road.

We pulled off the road and set camp which consists of pulling out two folding chairs. We cooked a bit of dinner, sat outside admiring the stars, listened to music and swapped stories. Then it was lights out.

This was the place we camped the first night.

Arriving in Buenos Aires

noreply@blogger.com (Taylor) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 15:20:00 +0000

Arriving in Buenos Aries

Well, it’s 5am on the 4^th and I would say the real adventure starts today. Not sure why I’m up this early, still dealing with lag I guess though that doesn’t make much sense since its coming on 10 pm at home.

Anyhow, we boarded the plane from Atlanta to Argentina. A pretty easy flight. About 9 hours with nothing special of note. We landed and headed off to baggage check, of course, we joked lost baggage would be the capper for the trip.

As we stood with about 30 other people in the lost baggage line I was chuckling pretty good. I didn’t really have anything non replaceable in my bags and had little hope of seeing it again considering we were leaving the next day in a truck to drive across South America.

Mike was handling things surprisingly well. He was a bit more disappointed than me (understandably so) because he had sponsored a race team down here and had all the swag in his bag. 30 or 40 shirts and again in hats. He knew if we didn’t get the bags soon that we weren’t seeing them again.

As we made our way to the counter the airline staff were assuring us that they would forward our bags ahead as they found them. Mike said “Look, I’m in town tonight, after that I’m sleeping in a truck on the side of the road for the next 2 weeks, how exactly are you going to get my bags to me?”

“What’s your last name sir?”

“Shirley and Wolfsen”

“Ah, Mr. Wolfsen, we have your bag in the office…”

“You have his but not mine??”

“Yes…”

I collected my bag and we were off to the hotel. The plan was that they would have his bag to him by 9am and, they actually did. We awoke this morning at the hotel in Buenos Aries and Mike got his bag. We then headed off to the race start. We were running a bit late and we got to see the last of the truck class take off from the line. These trucks are big. They’re a cross between a Mac truck and a regular pickup. They are pretty gnarly.

After the race kick off we decided to walk around town and take in the sites. We walked for quite some time in the general direction of the hotel (we had taken the subway to the race). We stopped for lunch at the Ferrari café and I whipped out the map. I realized we were right across the street from the cemetery where Evita was buried and that peaked my interest so we headed over there checking out a little local flea market on the way. I got some shots in the cemetery and we decided we were ready for a breather. We headed back and took a nap, well tried…

Mike is very excited about the race and was going down stairs all the time for updates. He burst in the room “My guy finished 5^th! He finished 5^th out of 250 people!!” Naps over, off to watch race high lights. Followed by dinner in a fantastic café. Probably a little more upscale then a café, full linen and silver. A nice place. For meal selection it was the point and pray method. Mike got what looked like a great shish kabob and I got a chicken wienerscnhtizel sort of a thing. Both great. We finished up and headed back to the hotel for some more race high lights and then off to bed.

This brings me up to now, pounding away on these keys at 5am. So the reason I say the adventure starts today is because we pick up the rental truck this morning at 10. Beyond that we really don’t have many plans. We have a pretty loose map of the race. We’re going to grab the truck, pick up a cooler, and hit the road. As we watched high lights last night on TV occasionally the racers would go roaring by a stretch of dirt road in the middle of no where that had 3 or 4 tents next to it. Mike said, “There, that’s where I want to stay. Little bbq with the locals, then wake up and see the race roar past.”

Sounds good to me. I thought…

Another adventure

noreply@blogger.com (Taylor) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 16:44:00 +0000

Last year at this time Mike and I went to Argentina and Chile for the Dakar. I kept a journal/blog but never posted it. I’ll post a chapter every couple days.

Here goes the story of two guys sleeping in the back of a pickup truck in a far off land for two weeks.

01-01-09

And so another adventure begins. I’ll go back and put a little prequel together later, but I want to get down what has happened thus far before I forget. Were on day 2 and things (as usual) have not gone according to plan. Mike and I had a plane that flew out of San Fran at 7:30 am the 1st. Yes, we made plane reservations for 7:30 am New Year’s Day. In hind sight, probably not the best move. When we had originally made the plans we were both going to meet in Santa Cruz, party for New Year and go on from there. As it got closer to New Year’s I made plans to be in the city. On the 31st I called mike to confirm everything and he said to me “Bro, this we’ll be great. We’ll party New Years, crash at Jeff’s house ‘til noon and then have your parents give us a ride to the airport at like 6pm.”.

Two things made me ponder at this statement; one being my immediate problem, which was I had told Mike I would take care of the ride to the airport. The second being that somehow Mike had it in his head that the plane left at 7:30 pm not am. I quickly checked the ticket and said “Dude, we leave at 7:30 am.” A brief silence from the other end of the phone… followed by “Bro, I gotta go, I’m still in Reno…”

On to problem #2, I had to get Mike a ride or cancel my plans and go to Santa Cruz. I called Teeto and laid out the scenario. He said he would be happy to help. Now, I felt a little better and called Mike. I let him know he had a ride and that Teeto would be calling him to dove tail plans. Several minutes later I got a text from mike saying, “no problem, Teeto's picking me up at 4am and taking me to San Fran”

I did have a few concerns. Teeto is one of my best friends, but he is also the guy who has come over to my house and literally fallen asleep in his car parked in front of my place with the engine running. It’s not uncommon for me to be talking to him and have him nod off when I’m in mid sentence, and I knew he had a crazy night planned as well. He had to spin at the club, load up, drive to SC, pick up Mike, and run off to the airport. As long as he didn’t nod off between packing and getting to SC, I was fine.

At 3:30 am I started calling Teeto. 4 calls, no answer. I was starting to freak out a bit when I got a call from him at 4. “Boss, relax, relax. I’m on my way; I got pulled over for a sobriety check. When I get to Santa Cruz I call Mike and he meets me at the SC diner and we're out.” I was feeling relieved. 4:30, a call from Teeto “Boss, Mike’s not answering his phone. What do I do?” Hang tight buddy, I’ll give him a call.

Over the next hour Teeto and I called Mike many times. I ended up calling information and getting Jeff’s home number. I called that, no answer. I called my parents and asked if they had Jeff’s cell number (lost it on a recent cell replacement) no luck. I called Jeff’s parents, no answer, followed by a return call a few minutes later from Margie. “Here's the number.”… Before calling Jeff's phone I tried Mike’s cell one more time. I received a groggy “hmm, dude, it’s cool, Teeto’s going to call me at 4 and then I’m meeting him and were off to the airport.”

“Mike, its 5:30”

“…”

“Get up; Teeto’s been waiting for an hour.”

“It’s 5:30?”

“It’s 5:30.”

“Oh shit, I gotta go!”

“Yes, call Teeto.”

I’m now at the San Francisco airport trying to figure out if I skip my flight or take the flight and try and hook up with him in L.A. (S.F. to L.A. to Atlanta to Argentina). “Final boarding flight (whatever number it was).”

I get a call from Teeto, “Boss, he’s here. He looks like The Lich King Jr., but I got him here.”

Here comes Mike, looking a little tired. “Mike! You made it!”

“I have my passport, some emergency cash, and an emergency credit card. I forgot my wallet, credit cards, money clip and car keys…”

“You have your passport?”

“Yeah.”

“Let's go.”

The flight to L.A. was uneventful. Easy lay over and then it was off to Atlanta. It was one of those flights. One row behind me and 3 seats to my left were 2 young children. They wailed the whole way. I thought just by sheer physics they would have had to take a break at some point. I was wrong. Ok, put in the headphones and lay back. “AAAhhhggh!” What the hell was that? The guy behind me was at least 6’ 8” and was using a cane. If I tried to put my seat back he howled in pain. He apologized profusely but let me know that I couldn’t put me seat back. This was a losing battle, it was the cane, I couldn’t beat the cane. No cane, no problem, I paid the same for my seat as you, deal with it. With the cane, I was just the dick messing with the cripple. Sigh, looks like I’m sitting upright. Upright with screaming kids. It was a long flight with no sleep. I was starting to feel a little punchy. I had now been up for about 32 hours, I did manage to squeeze in an hour of sleep after New Years but pretty much 32 hours straight.

We met Shay on the plane. I was in the aisle, Mike in the middle, and Shay on the window. I’d guess she was a few years younger than us but not much. She was an Aussie and a fellow adventurer. She worked on a ship that did tours of Antarctica. She was well traveled and well, frankly had that accent that I like so much. Mike was chatting her up and things were going well. We landed in Atlanta and had a layover. “Shay, you want to join us for dinner?” Mike asked. “Sure.” Was the reply. We hopped off the plane and decided to make sure we were still departing the same gate. WE ALL LOOKED AT THE DEPARTURE SCREEN, yep same gate.

Off for food. TGI Fridays. We ordered and it took a long time. Longer then I would have guessed for airport food. Hmm, when do we leave? I glanced at my ticket. The plane DEPARTS at 6:40, its 6:33. “Hey” I said, “Our plane leaves at 6:40…” “That would be unfortunate” Mike replied. “I’ll go check” I said and left them to continue their banter. I walked around the corner to the counter and said “When’s the plane board?”

“We’ve already retracted the ramp.”

“….”

“Seriously, you can't get on that plane.”

“You're not going to let me on that plane?”

“No”

“What if I said you’re my best friend??”

“I’d say thanks, but you're not getting on that plane.”

I walked back to the table where we were eating dinner. “Guys, I’m not joking, were not getting on that plane.” Mike: “were not getting on?” Me: “Nope” at which point, Mike and I calmly grabbed our silverware and started eating again. Shay took a second to digest this information and then looked at us both like we were crazy. “You’re kidding right?” she squeaked. Mike looked at her and said “He’s not kidding.”

She snapped. Mike and her were sitting on the same side of the booth. Mike on the aisle, her on the wall. She was under the table in a flash and there was a thunderous slam, all the plates jumped as she hit her head on the table and she clambered out the door. I yelled after her “I'll get the check!” and she was gone. Mike and I glanced at each other and started to laugh. We continued eating, as we finished the meal I mentioned to Mike that I thought his chances with Shay had probably dropped pretty dramatically…

We made our way over to the ticket counter. It was a bit of a wait to get the itinerary squared away, but the long and the short was, we weren’t leaving ‘til the next day, same flight. Any chance we can get our bags? No. Looks like I’m wearing the same clothes for a 3rd day… “Bro, my emergency credit card is in my bag…” We grabbed a cheap hotel and crashed almost instantly. Not much to be said about the hotel, Mike grabbed a picture of me in the pool, which should say it all.

Breakfast at the waffle house and now were parked in the Atlanta airport.

Fail city council meeting.

noreply@blogger.com (Taylor) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 16:57:00 +0000

As you know, a few years ago I got on a health kick. I was waking early, going to the gym five days a week, riding my bike 20 to 50 miles three days a week, eating very healthy having cut out all sugar, high protein, low fat ect. Im sure it was a reaction to the things going on in my life at that time. I had just sold the club and had just separated from my girlfriend. I was making changes. Consequently in the year after that I was in great shape, the best I'd been in for years.

Over the course of the last year I've gone back to work after taking a year off. As dad gets closer and closer to retirement I've stepped into the family business of property management. It's been nice to get back to work and I've always enjoyed real estate so its a good match.

Unfortunately, one of the casualty's of work has been my strict work out regiment. I'm by no means out of shape, I just cant dedicate the time I did last year to being in the gym. I still have my hopes though. I'm doing all the mental tricks. posting stickers around so when I see them I tell myself to go for a bike ride or make room for time in the gym. I have a few pictures around of when I was in my best shape to remind me that I need to stick to that strict diet. It's hard with work, but I'm trying.

As for work, it's great. We still have the properties in Santa Cruz and Carmel and of course the stuff in Los Banos where my parents are from. In recent weeks I've been spending more time in the valley, reestablishing our connections to Los Banos. Meeting with the chamber and going to city council meetings. It's a great little farm town that still has a sense of community.

Last Wednesday was the city council meeting and so off to Los Banos I went. This would be the second I attended the first being a few months earlier. So as of yet I wasn't a familiar face. Nothing to exciting on the agenda and I quietly took a seat and started listening to the proceedings.

Now, I know a lot of communities do this, televise the city council meetings, but something that I thought was a little different about Los Banos's is the fact that rather then having the cameras at the back of the room filming the city council members, they have the cameras at the front of the room shooting over councilmans heads. Effectively this puts everyone in the room on TV. I learned this after the last meeting when I went to breakfast the following morning and the waitress said "Hey! I saw you on the TV last night!"

Anyway, I took my seat and folded my hands and started listening to the proceedings. A trophy for the Los Banos football team for the outstanding performance over the last season. A proclamation for a 17 year old girl who has been named the fastest draw with a six shooter in California.

Then the meeting was opened up for public comments. To the podium in his cowboy hat and boots strolled a local to address the council. He was in charge of the city's local graffiti task force. Hey! I thought, I know this guy! We had spoken on the phone a few months back. I had some graffiti on one of my buildings and was pointed to him as a possible source for help. Sure enough, after some brief calls, he and his crew of volunteer kids painted over the graffiti.

At the time I had promised him a donation for supplies but in the hustle and bustle had completely forgotten about it. Great, here's my chance to get his info and send him a check. He continued to voice his concerns for the next few minutes, politely wrapped up and turned to leave.

As he started to walk away from the podium I gave him the pez and waved. I pointed to the back of the room and got out of my seat. I brushed past people and made my way to the rear of the room. He looked at me rather quizzically at which point I held up a finger and dug in my pocket for my iphone. I didn't want to speak, I didn't want to interrupt the speaker. I did whisper "I want to get your address." As I finished the phrase I got my iphone out and held it up for for both of us so I could enter his address and number. he moved in so he could see the little screen. I hit the button.

OK, remember I said 'd been leaving myself little reminders about staying in shape? Yeah, I figured, since I take my iphone with me every where that I should put a picture on it so I could take a look at it and remind me to stick to the diet. So, my iphone wall paper is a picture of me in great shape (for me anyway), shirt off, sweating like crazy, with a chainsaw in my hands. I had been hard at work at my house after the storms last year. Here, ill post the picture.

I hit the button. OK, as a rush of horror washes over me as I do a mental brief recap. I'm standing in a room that's being televised where being quiet is a necessity. I've just flagged down a good old boy who has never met me and asked him to come to the back of the room. When we get to the back of the room I whisper to him "I want your address..." Whip out my iphone and produce a picture of my half naked sweaty body for this guy to look at... Not exactly the impression I was planning on making. Now I'm pretty much frozen. This guy tilts his head and looks at me as if to say "What the fuck?" I half expected to hear "You're not from around here are ya boy."

Quickly I try and regain my composure "I wanted to talk to you about the kids" I stammered... Not a good start. That's it. I'm not coming back from this one. I dropped my head and silently shook it from side to side as I gently pushed him to the side and walked out the door.

I'll let you know how the next meeting goes.