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Showing posts from January, 2018

New Work Up @ Yea, Tenderness

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At the terrific journal  Yea, Tenderness  I have a new piece up starting the week of January 28. It’s entitled: The 7 Stages of Replacing Things Based on the 7 Stages of Grief—losing things and grief, same thing. In this day and age I’ve found that Amazon Prime can work virtual miracles. We have the ability to get WHATEVER we want—and usually within 3 standard shipping days. Alas, not everything can be replaced. 

Beyond Paradise now in Paperback!

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Ready! Beyond Paradise is in paperback https://www.amazon.com/dp/1983707538/

Here’s Something to Cheer About!!

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At the terrific journal Yea, Tenderness I have a new piece up starting the week of January 28. It’s entitled: The 7 Stages of Replacing Things Based on the 7 Stages of Grief—losing things and grief, same thing. In this day and age I’ve found that Amazon Prime can work virtual miracles. We have the ability to get WHATEVER we want—and usually within 3 standard shipping days. Alas, not everything can be replaced. 

Solo Woman Cyclist=My Trips, part 3

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When I bought my new bike, a Torker, it was sold to me as a commuter bike with a way more generous gear ratio. Perfect, I thought, for long-distance cycling. Just because I had a few extra teeth though didn’t mean I should plan to cycle the Highlands of Scotland or attempt a JOGLE, but that’s exactly what I did. JOGLE, from John O’Groats to Land’s End in Cornwall: in fall 2016, 1,100 miles in 20 days, one spent holed up in a gale in a caravan. Only later after getting home and thinking more about it did I reckon I needed better gearing for touring. Halifax, Nova Scotia – Deer Isle, Maine: June 2017 brought me a new bike adventure. 638 miles over 12 days, definitely more relaxed and several ferries. I spent 2 days cycling the carriage roads of Acadia Nat. Park. But on the very last day of my trip a problem reoccurred—I threw a spoke on my back wheel. This same thing happened in England, but just dismissed it as a result of cycling so many miles s

Solo Woman Cyclist=My Trips, part 2

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So as I mentioned in my last post in 2013 a friend moved away and I was left trying to figure out if I would continue long-distance cycle touring. Pursuing it alone. A test trip was a ride I planned from Grand Rapids to Chicago the third week in April 2014. It didn’t start very auspiciously. I forgot to pack my front wheel in the box, so that when unpacking at the Grand Rapids bus station I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. A phone call to emergency UPS the forgotten wheel, costing as much as the gas saved if I’d just driven there and back. Then the day I was to leave there was a lot of rain. I really wanted to postpone. I did delay until noon. That night I stealth camped by Lake Michigan and the wind was ferocious. The next day on the Blue Star Highway working my way down the coast it was cold. I remember trying to swing my leg over the top bar and being unable to straddle it. I simply had too many layers on. I was off itinerary and stayed that second night in a woo

A One-Woman Riot

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At last year’s Women’s March a small cell phone video went viral. Milck aka Connie Lim came out of the shadows. Her song “Quiet” became the movement’s anthem. Put on your face Know your place Shut up and smile Don’t spread your legs I could do that [Verse 1] But no one knows me no one ever will If I don’t say something, if I just lie still Would I be that monster, scare them all away If I let them hear what I have to say [Chorus] I can’t keep quiet, no oh oh oh oh oh oh I can’t keep quiet, no oh oh oh oh oh oh A one woman riot, oh oh oh oh oh oh oh She didn’t start out thinking she was going to write a hit, go viral , or even make a lot of bucks. Lim, a self-professed geek and outsider who said she never felt like she fit in, composed the song from personal experience. From an NPR interview: It has been stuck in my (laughter) throat and my consciousness for years and years and years. I have been trying to find a way to heal myself from the bu

Solo Woman Cyclist=My Trips, part 1

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January 2018, and I’m dreaming of my next cycle long-distance tour. I have to—it’s negative 7 below zero outside. It’s necessary to have something to look forward to. But as a way of introduction here is a list of some of my past tours. 5 years old: rode my bike with training wheels across the highway. The pedal fell off and had to walk it home. Got home after dark, but never fessed up about what I’d done. Middle school: a bunch of us took on our bikes—after a carbo-load breakfast where I ate a whole loaf of bread for French toast. After a few miles I got a stomach ache and had to turn back. Not sure where we were going actually. Still in middle school: after helping my sister deliver the Sunday newspaper (starting out in darkness) we decided to ride our bikes to Xenia (Ohio). I got as far as Spring Valley on my banana seat bike before the miles or hunger sent me back home. I remember we made it as far as a ski hill? in Spring Valley—does anyone know anything abou

The Greatest Showman: A Movie Review

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The Greatest Showman Director:  Michael Gracey Starring: Hugh Jackman Zac Efron Michelle Williams Zendaya The Greatest Showman is a made for the movies musical about P.T. Barnum, the king of bunk and humbug, the creator of the Barnum and Bailey Circus. The late great circus. Kids now will grow up wondering what’s a circus. This is the kind of movie I wouldn’t normally go to, but, what the hey, it was 7 below zero, I was out with the girls, and I was desperate for something different. For another world. For magic. Besides it was $5 Tuesday. From beginning to end this movie extravaganza is a miracle of motion. It has all the exuberance and appeal of a great, big Glee. A show stopper. What does that phrase even mean? But from the first number to the credits it was engaging. No slow moments. And the theater was packed. People wanted to see this movie. Whole families, classesmates, youth groups, etc date-night. I was surprised as I’d not really heard

Bunk: Book Review

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  Bunk: The Rise of Hoaxes, Humbug, Plagiarists, Phonies, Post-Facts, and Fake News Kevin young, Greywolf Press 2017 I was really excited about getting my hands on this book. I’ve mostly known Kevin Young for his poetry. His publishing creds are impeccable, and the above title was longlisted for the National Book Award in non-fiction. It was a busy holiday spent hanging out and when not hanging then reading. I finished a couple heavy-hitter books. With more holds piling up on the shelves at the library. So with Bunk I started with the back and read around, eventually starting at the beginning. Maybe because of this “pecking” it felt like a couple different books to me. Part Six: Unoriginal Sin was about appropriating and misappropriating material and culture not part of one’s milieu. What I appreciated most was Young’s narrative voice. Have you ever wished while reading non-fiction for the author to interject—yo! Now it gets serious, or any number of observations. Su

While golfing . . .

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Yesterday an alert went out: BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL A mother called her son in Texas— Stay on the line until . . . A father held his son— Don’t worry, while the whole time He was shitting his pants He held him so tight, sobbing A group of friends strolled down to the beach— If this is it, we’ll go together A young girl walked away from her job, The one she hated, she thought about calling home A couple stayed in bed, let’s stay here forever, they said People ran to their bathrooms and hid in the tub A mom lowered her children into the sewer, First lifting the heavy manhole cover A man went into a church to pray But no words came, only unholy utterances The teenage boy wished he had been more bold The teenage girl had no regrets, she smiled at everyone He didn’t know what to do She knew one thing that had to be done Only after— There was no all-clear— More of a general resignatio

Solo Woman Cyclist: Aren’t you lonely?

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Yes. And no. My head is so engaged in the process that while riding it’s hard to be bored. Especially for the JOGLE. Everything was so new and fascinating (and, at times, overwhelming) that getting bored or lonely was way down on the list of what I was processing. Then at night in my tent or dorm or hotel room I was just so happy to be done and relaxing that loneliness never came up. I think the times when I really wish for someone to share the experience with (aside from if I get a flat—hahaha) is when things are going great or something is so beautiful you wish someone was there with you. Though the truly sublime moment is hard to articulate. During those times sometimes silence is the only response. Traveling solo has also opened me up to riding with others. Such as on my JOGLE I ran into Alex and we rode together on the Great Glen Way. It’s fun to meet people and compare notes. Riding companions are important to have when overwhelmed or when particularly physically cha

Solo Woman Cyclist=Learning to Fix the Bike

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If you read back through my half dozen bike diaries you’ll soon see a pattern: I don’t really know how to fix my bike. Plus I’m a scaredy cat about it, but necessity is the mother of invention. Maybe not invention, but of working around problems that do come up. Tire repair: I’ve already relayed here how much I hate changing a flat. Never mind repairing an inner tube while on the road. Anyway, I do know how, it’s just doing it that’s hard. Always carry a couple spar inner tubes and a pair of tire irons. Now a days there are plastic ones in cool colors that stick to each other and are handy. Brakes: there’s a tumbler on the side that widens and narrows so that you can tweak any kind of rubbing. I also use that thing that throws them open for removing the tire without deflating it. For replacing the pads I’ve got the kind that are already set for the right angle and all I have to do is loosen and insert fresh pads. The one thing I do know is that you have to replace BOTH sid

Solo Woman Cyclist: Stealth camping

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I love camping. I love the silence and communing with nature. What I don’t like are the crowds at state parks and commercial campgrounds. I hate camping tent row to tent row, right next to someone, hearing them through the thin walls of nylon. I feel much safer stealth camping. First off, hidden away in the forest, I feel better leaving stuff and riding into town for a meal. There are stories of people getting robbed at commercial campgrounds. There are no locks for those zippers. I also get a better night’s sleep away from kids screaming and people playing their guitars/radios until midnight. You wouldn’t believe how loud your neighbors can be. You’d think we’re all out here to appreciate nature—until the bottle gets passed around while sitting around the campfire. You’re left stewing in your sleeping bag wondering how much longer are these #%&@ going to do this? Some principles I use when stealth camping. 1) Pulling off the road. I look for dead-end roads. I try

Solo Woman Cyclist: Things fall apart

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Not only was this a famous line from Yeat’s THE SECOND COMING. (“Turning and turning in the widening gyre. The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere. The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best ... ”), but it can also apply to long distance touring. Generally things fall apart. A flat, a thrown spoke, loose screws, a sheared off bottom bracket. The first thing you need is to have a few basic tools. Then you need to know what to do with them. My new bike (Torker) gets by with an allen wrench multi tool. You’ll also want something to true your wheels and tire irons/levers. Unless you’re going to Timbuktu or Tajikistan, you’ll probably not be too far from a repair shop. Some people take spare tires, I only carry spare inner tubes. I rarely ever patch while on the road. You need to know how to fix a flat. The problems that have occurred while ridi

Making Sense of Chaos

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As I mentioned in an earlier post, a post last year, from 2017:  2017 was the pits. Let’s hope 2018 holds more for you, me, all of us. Aside from the fact that 2017 was the pits, there’s another interesting fact: I had a very productive, successful writing year with many things to celebrate. It just didn’t feel that way. From that earlier post: ** Not only a book contract for a novel I’ve been trying to sell forever, but 13 acceptances of “Other Writing” plus an eBook, Flash Memoir: Writing Prompts to Get You Flashing. Whew! It simply doesn’t make sense when I think of how chaotic and frustrated I felt. But as I also mentioned in an earlier post, a post from last year, from 2017, podcasts got me through the year. From the podcast, Hidden Brain, I learned that chaos can actually be good for our creative process. Messy inspiration. In Praise Of Mess: Why Disorder May Be Good For Us , November 29, 2016. I realize this podcast was pre-Trump. How could the moderator