Father's Day, BY Style!!!

Whew, what a day!!!

It started out like any other, until I realized that it was Father's Day! Technically, I am a father; I just didn't get the memo. But, nonetheless, it was a great day, filled with little BY-style rants and snippets. Hopefully I can put into a short, humorous form.

8am: I roll over and realize that the GolfCart is not there. Not unusual, but the fact that I am awake at 8 is. Damn. Guess I have to get up.

8:15: I saunter into the living room, see the GC and wish her a good morning. I mosey over to fix me some water and plop back on the couch next to her. She is grinning at me like I should notice something. "What?" I ask. "Oh, Don't you want to open your present?" "Present! Oooh. To what do I deserve this honor?" "It's Father's Day you dummy!"

8:20: I see the present wrapped on the dinner table. Hmmm, how did I miss it before? I amble over to the table and read the card. Touching. (Editors note: those who know us well, know that I am the definitely sappy one. She's tough, but softening nicely with marriage, and possible, hormones. We both wear the pants though! ... er... yeah!)

8:30: I open the box and see a painting. It was something we saw a couple of months ago during one of our walkabouts in downtown W-S. It was a small, nice oil painting of a slain bull. We both liked it a lot when we saw it, and the GC went back later and grabbed it. "Awesome. I love it"

8:35: As I stare at the dead bull with the bandelleros sticking out of it, I stumble upon a scary thought. "Was the GC trying to tell me something? Is this supposed to be an allegory of my life? Is she trying to subliminally let me know that this is the end of my life as I know it? Am I the dead bull in the painting? The end of my current bachelor-like carefree lifestyle? No more internet surfing? ESPN.com? Oh God! Could she be that evil?" I look over at her smirking at me.... hmmm.... Back to the dead bull painting... back to the smirking GC... UH OH!
(Editors note: the use of those big words did not come without help for my poor little engineering mind. I had to use dictionary.com, and I still probably did it wrong)

8:45: After a lovely breakfast of diet Dr Pepper and an everything bagel, we proceed with our plan for the day: the last bike ride in W-S. We had it all planned out. Yesterday we went to Dick's sporting goods and bought a nice hitch bike rack. Spent like 30mins talking to the bike helper dude (who had some freakish knowledge of bike racks) and bought a 4-bike rack. Nice rack! (hee hee) Supposedly it gives you more space for 2 bikes, so that the don't bang into each other... blah blah blah... (flashback to Sears fiasco, and more $$$ is flying out of my wallet).

So we're getting dressed, and I can't find my biker pants. Yes, I know... scary. They are made of spandex, but with the very very very useful addition of extra butt padding sewn in. Makes for a nice comfortable ride. Plus I put them under some shorts. But they're gone! The GC must have packed them in one of her recent hormone flurries.
(Editors note: It seems the new thing for the GC is to pre-organize our stuff to be packed. Seems that she cannot stand the way the movers packed us last time, haphazardly packing stuff in boxes. So essentially now she has begun to pack boxes, in anticipation of the movers packing boxes. Somehow this makes sense to the GC. Yesterday I tried to gently question her about, and was met with a hormone fueled stare that burned right through my skull! Issue dropped then and there....)

9am: We make it down to the garage with all our accoutrements (except my butt-padding) and begin to load the bikes. I grab the bikerack box from the storage shed, and proceed to assemble. Got to step 2, when realized that we needed wrenches. "Where are the wrenches babe?" "Oh, they're in the tool bag" (hee hee). Open the tool bag... no wrenches!!! Ummm... I grab the GC and we stare at the open bag.... Both simultaneously flashing back to the Green Machine. Damn!!! They're in Wilmington!!!

9:30: Crap! Then I remember an old tool set that I had bought, similar to one of my former roommates. Had some wrenches in there. But where was it? I asked the GC, and was greeted with a profoundly blank stare, with some hormones. This was getting me nowhere. I run back upstairs, tear thought the closets, but no tools. Finally the GC says to look in the large tupperware bins in our storage closet. Bingo! We're saved!

9:55: Continue to work on the rack. Get it into my truck hitch and then go to put the bolt through. I go to tighten the bolt down and realize that it is the size of my fist! Uh oh! Search through the newly found tool set, and nothing fits. Damn. The GC asks if we can still use the rack. Hmmm... It is in the hitch, but then shimmies around like a bowl full of jelly! Without a big wrench to tighten it down, it isn't secure. (editors note: think bowl full of jelly and the GC and you have a future BY posting)

10:00: F#$%!!!!!!!! My irritation is rising. The GC states "I have to pee". Seriously!!?!?! Isn't this like the 7th time this morning?!?!?! She goes back upstairs, as I struggle with the damn rack. F-ing F-ing F-er!!! Damn!!! We're screwed.

10:10: The GC comes down with our next door neighbor and goes off to his shed. Oh geez, did she rope in our poor neighbor into this? The hormones must be really rolling now. They come back with a wrench. Doesn't fit. Damn! But he has bigger wrenches in his truck. But his truck is at work. Before we could tell him no, he's off in his wife's car to get his wrench. Damn now the GC has ruined 2 family's days! Damn the estrogen!

10:25: He comes back with 2 ginormous wrenches which do the trick. The rack is up! We're ready to load the bikes! Mine goes on without a glitch, except I almost took off my finger. Must be careful, don't have my disability insurance yet! Then the GC's bike is up....... ..... ...

....
...
Hmmm..

When we bought our bikes way back when, the GC ... er... Charmaine opted to go with the Cruiser option. Nice bike with extra-cushiony seat (springs too). Except that it doesn't have a crossbar from the handlebars to the seat. Can't put the damned thing on the rack. We shimmy... pull it off... flip it around... turn it on its head... nothing. By this point my irritation is rising to ultra-high levels. I grab the bike and jam it on the rack's arms. The whole damned car is shaking violently, boucing up and down as I try to maneuver it. Finally got it on there. Whew! GC and I back up to admire... the front wheel is sticking straight up in the air on one arm ... and the springy seat is on the other arm barely hanging on .... Not aerodynamic or sea-worthy.

I didn't want to ride anymore....

But no one will deny the GC! So we went back to the original method of transport: took off the front wheel, laid down my back seats, and put her bike in my truck. My bike stayed on the rack.

10:45: We drive off. GC and I with our 2 bikes. One in the truck, and the other sitting comfortably alone on the 4-bike bike-rack. Glad I went with the 4 bike rack, it was definitely $$$ well spent!

10:55: Make it to the trail, unload, and begin the ride.

10:56: Damn we're out of shape! My legs were aching, my lungs were burning, and my butt..... well....

12:00: We make it back to the car after our ride. I am dead. Couldn't even make it to the lake. The GC stopped 1 mile into it to "take a break". I soooooo wanted to sit with her, but she said "Go on without me..." in a way that implied that my manhood is being tested. I tried to play the protective husband card, but the GC would have none of that. I had to go on. I would not be the bull!!! But that adrenaline surge lasting until she was out of sight. It took forever to do a circuit, swing around, and pick her up.

12:30: We made it back home to shower. Dropped off the wrenches and thank our neighbor profusely. Shower. Then go back out to lunch.

12:45: Got to the irish bar. Funny, I didn't know W-S was Irish? And eat. Love me some fish n chips!!!! Had to have a beer too... This will probably be our last time at this place. We shed a tear.... ***whimper, whimper***

1:15: Make it to the coffeehouse to study. Yes, not that exciting, but with my boards and all the other stuff coming up....

1:30: Getting sleepy... maybe shouldn't have had that beer. I got the "I told you so" look from the GC. Was even more intense with the added hormones!

4pm: Made it through studying, and back to house to feed Ham. Then we both napped some.... we've had a big day.

7pm: Dinner. Yum yum. We were creative with the remaining food products. Pasta with vegetables.

9:30: Settling down for the evening.

Whew! I'm all typed out. Have to go to bed now.

Happy Father's Day!