Saturday, October 29, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Friday, October 07, 2011
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Family Crest
Turns out that Fausto is a crested Cayuga. As his neck feathers grew in, so did his tuft. Or crest. Quite a bonnet he's got going on.
CX-25
This is the Bellman CX-25 stovetop espresso purveyor. Perhaps a bit labor intensive but a wonderful little machine and completely worth the labor when you want a latte and all you have is a stove (and coffee and milk, or in my case, soy milk).
Monday, June 20, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Recently, I stumbled across a listing for a bike for sale in Foster City, about an hour away from where I live. There was no price listed for this 1996 Masi Gran Corsa fully equipped with Campy Record components, but after a few email exchanges with the seller we settled on a thoroughly fair (for me, maybe not for him but he didn't seem to mind) price.
As we discussed when and where to complete this transaction, he said he'd never used Craigslist before and had heard about scary things happening to people buying and selling on CL. I said I'd heard those things too. So he asked if I'd feel safe meeting in the parking lot of the police department in Foster City. I said that sounded like a safe place.
When we arrived at the address he'd given me for the PD on Tuesday morning, it turned out to be the parking lot of a community center. Not a police car or officer in sight. But there was a little car with a red Masi strapped to the back, so we knew we were in the right place. "It's not the police department!" I exclaimed. "So what, there's the bike right there," said Jon. As we pulled in, I noticed the little car was empty. "He's not here!" I yelled. "He's right there," Jon said, gesturing toward a cute little man walking toward us.
"You sometimes act like everything is an emergency," observed Jon. I remained silent, because he is right.
The little man selling the bike turned out to be a sweet older gentleman who said he had too many bikes and his wife had given him some sort of ultimatum, so the Masi had to go. I wondered what other bikes he had, if this was the one he decided to sell. I should've asked him if he had a spare De Rosa laying around. Perhaps I'll email him.
The one minor tragedy of this bike is that the sweet older gentleman decided, at some point, to "upgrade" to a carbon fork. I inquired as to the whereabouts of the original fork, and sadly, he said he left it at the bike shop when he had the new fork put on.
Maybe I'll call all the bike shops in Foster City. There can't be that many, can there?
As we discussed when and where to complete this transaction, he said he'd never used Craigslist before and had heard about scary things happening to people buying and selling on CL. I said I'd heard those things too. So he asked if I'd feel safe meeting in the parking lot of the police department in Foster City. I said that sounded like a safe place.
When we arrived at the address he'd given me for the PD on Tuesday morning, it turned out to be the parking lot of a community center. Not a police car or officer in sight. But there was a little car with a red Masi strapped to the back, so we knew we were in the right place. "It's not the police department!" I exclaimed. "So what, there's the bike right there," said Jon. As we pulled in, I noticed the little car was empty. "He's not here!" I yelled. "He's right there," Jon said, gesturing toward a cute little man walking toward us.
"You sometimes act like everything is an emergency," observed Jon. I remained silent, because he is right.
The little man selling the bike turned out to be a sweet older gentleman who said he had too many bikes and his wife had given him some sort of ultimatum, so the Masi had to go. I wondered what other bikes he had, if this was the one he decided to sell. I should've asked him if he had a spare De Rosa laying around. Perhaps I'll email him.
The one minor tragedy of this bike is that the sweet older gentleman decided, at some point, to "upgrade" to a carbon fork. I inquired as to the whereabouts of the original fork, and sadly, he said he left it at the bike shop when he had the new fork put on.
Maybe I'll call all the bike shops in Foster City. There can't be that many, can there?
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Monday, June 06, 2011
Gmail
While setting up a new email account to forward into my gmail account, I inadvertently made a selection that caused Google to resend every single email I've received since 2005. I've been deleting emails all weekend. Currently, I'm down to about 40,000 in my inbox.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Saturday, June 04, 2011
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