A long and unwelcome time has separated us… “I return to you now, at the turn of the tide.”
Wo hast du gewesen?
Many of you, gentle readers, have inquired about my lengthy absence from this space. I appreciate your inquiries. To quell your fears, let it be known that I merely fell victim to the vagaries of life. These distractions have been disposed and I now rejoin the Internet in all its porn-filled, typo-laden, sense-defying anonymous blithering. Amen.
I write like… who?
During my hiatus, I came across the website www.iwritelike.com. Navigating to said website and inserting a snippet of one’s scribble into the box provided claims to provide the name of a famous comparable scribe. A segment of writing from this here blog thingy returned to me the name Chuck Palahniuk. I knew the name only as the author of “Fight Club” (the story on which the movie was based), so I turned to that wisest of sages, Wikipedia, for further disertation on the matter. While I learned a number of modestly interesting facts and the contents of a bibliography, it has become quite clear to me that Chuck and I are pretty different people. For example, Chuck has a short story call “Guts” which, when offered by him as a public reading, has resulted in a large number of people fainting. I read a little… I got a little light headed and actually physically turned away from my computer monitor. Anyhoo…
The purpose of this paragraph is really only to espouse the time-wasting value of this exercise. Additionally, the paragraph above is credited to Chuck Norris.
If at first you don’t succeed, Tri Tri again
Mrs. Palaver “competed” in a non-competitive triathalon this weekend to benefit the cause of curing breast cancer. She was joined by Cousin Palaver the Younger. Yours truly was joined in the ranks of spectators by Cousin Palaver the Elder and Aunt and Uncle Palaver, making for a great weekend. Mrs. Palaver non-competed valiantly and reports to have “gotten lost in the transition” during the race. I interpreted this to mean that she entered a nirvana-like existential state resulting from a combination of heat exhaustion and endorphins. I later learned that this meant she forgot where she left her bike.
Before the event, I was a little concerned about Mrs. Palaver. In my view, her training regimen may have been lacking. I think it would be fair to say that she “off the couched” this particular event. It would also be fair to say that I have not been a supportive training partner. For example, I regularly answer ”Pizza” to the queries about my dinner preference and “No” to queries about my interest in joint exercise. However, Mrs. Palaver did quite well, even while nursing a slight ankle injury. I mention this only to plant the seed in your mind for future Palaver – how immasculating is it to fully recognize that your wife is a significantly superior athlete? Discuss.
But I digress… As this was my first triathalon as an observer, I feel compelled to offer a few thoughts on the matter:
- I appreciate the ideal of event-based goal-setting as a personal motivational tool. But how much joy can one really gleen from open-water swimming with 4,000 other people. I submit that the next time Mrs. Palaver wants to do a triathlon, we train up, pick a random Wednesday and head out to the resevoir for a 90 minute workout. I’ll even give her a medal and play Melissa Ethridge music throughout if it makes her feel better. (Note to event organizers: Get a band next time!)
- I also appreciate the ideals of curing breast cancer, raising money to cure breast cancer, and staging a public forum for demonstrating those brave souls who tackle that disease head-on. However, is Aug. 1 really the best time for a triathlon? Incidentally, a simple date change probably keeps me from having to get up at 4:45am to deliver Mrs. Palaver to the event. I think a 10am start on October 3rd would have been devine.
- Men are increasingly ill-equipped to manage their brood. This was a women-only event, leaving countless children raging across a large swath of state park “underseen” by a set of poorly trained fathers. As triathlons are not a well designed spectator sport, I took up “Dad Watching.” I found this to be mildly amusing and endlessly entertaining. I witnessed a mother stopping in the middle of the triathlon to apply sun screen to her child while dad watched. I had a really engaging and lengthy Q&A with a three year old sitting curbside near the route. He phrased all of his questions with “What’s up with…” instead of the traditional “Why…” I don’t know if I’ll be a father or what kind of father I’ll be, but I feel really good about the competition for Father of the Year when I get there. I will also take this opportunity to plug my Mother-in-Law Palaver’s most recent blog on the subject of fathering from the Psychology Today website. Check it out!
- To the guy who exited one of the scant number of port-o-potties on premises wearing no shoes… Nevermind. What do you even say to that guy?
- Many of the women passing by a water station a) cried out for margaritas, b) shouted out thanks to volunteers, and c) stopped to rest a bit. This is the kind of attitude I like. One women stopped to berate a volunteer because the station did not have Gatorade. This is the kind I don’t like.
Today’s plug comes from Cousin Palaver the Elder directly. I can say definitively that I have never been led astray by Cousin Palaver the Elder. Check out “Shakey – Neil Young’s Biography” by Jimmy McDonough. I have just started on the Kindle, so am not yet intimidated by its length. It’s a must read for music lovers.
The Mountain Palaver