NAHBS Recap (part two of....?)

One thing Denver does well is slush. In fact, aside from the pretty bikes and nice people, my strongest NAHBS memory is soggy feet. Every morning, my boots got wet. Then every afternoon. Then every evening. Fortunately for me, taxis are cheap in Denver and the city is small. But everywhere you look there are the mountains, looking implacable and restlessness-inducing and close.

Those things in the background are not clouds. 

Come to think of it, the last time I went to a non-local bike show it was in Las Vegas, which is also surrounded by mountains. What's with taking a bunch of outdoorsy folks, bringing them somewhere with a lot of wanderlust-inducing scenery, and then shutting them up in a stuffy convention hall? 

Aside from the bikes, the star of NAHBS was surely my shop's alcoholic woodchuck, imaginatively named Chuck. 

Morning hangover...

Afternoon Old Chub

Late afternoon Old Chub

Seriously, that plush animal designer is a bloody genius. Speaking of bloody geniuses....

LOOK AT THOSE LUGS. Chris Bishop is one of my building heros. 

Shin-Ishi Konno is another framebuilding titan. THOSE BARS. 

And a delightfully unserious steampunk machine from Donkelope.

It was all rather overwhelming, and I tried to take in the endless array of gleaming bikes in small segments so I could appreciate them. Like Westerners, framebuilders tend to be intimidatingly nice. As I strolled around the hall I was shown pictures of babies and three legged cats, offered places to stay in at least three countries, and un-creepily asked to half a dozen parties. I think that for much of the year committed bike dorks are just that-- huge dorks-- and at these shows everyone is thrilled to be surrounded by kindred souls for whom dorkiness is aspirational. 

In the evening I went to a lovely party in some enormous and dank bar. By then my Charming and Patient Gentleman Friend (CPGF) had arrived, so my contentment was complete. There was a bluegrass band that sounded exactly like the one that plays at Fiume on Thursday nights. Apparently stringing a beer can on some mardi gras beads to wear around one's neck is a thing in Colorado. I meant to get one for the woodchuck, but I forgot. 

Photo via Pedaldancer, who has a better camera than me.

Again, the non-creepy niceness of everyone there was astonishing. I can't think of any other context where the males outnumbered the females by about seven to one where I would feel so comfortable and respected. Of course, CPGF being there helped. We found ourselves singing the Canadian national anthem with some guys from Montreal and Vancouver. I don't even know the Canadian national anthem!

And the memory is making me tired. To be continued....

--Isis 

NAHBS recap (part one of....?)

I don't even know where to start!

On Wednesday I flew off to NAHBS looking terribly respectable without a single bike on me -- they all took the Amtrak. Apparently they and their chaperone had a high old time drinking moonshine in the coach car, while I was squeezed next to a panicky gentleman who kept pointing out how wiggly the airplane wing was. I love flying, actually, and tried to suppress my excitement -- mountains!!-- while the poor sod wheezed and muttered.

"Welcome to Denver, where the sun shines 300 days of the year!" said the pilot, as the plane rattled down through a blizzard.

Yikes. 

Westerners are appallingly, scarily, nice. Like, a guy tried to (non-creepily) carry my backpack to the shuttle bus, and a woman not only prevented me from winding up at Pikes Peak, but drew me an actually accurate map so I could get on the next bus. Having only lived in New York and Philadelphia, this made me jumpy. Also, cowboy boots and hats are worn un-ironically.

Then I ran around on the wide sidewalks looking for regional peculiarities, but all I saw was a lot of chain stores and lovely, powdery snow. And bracingly thin air.

The next day, amazingly, the bikes arrived!

That Amtrak lady was extraordinarily nice. She said it was learned behavior because she is from New Jersey. 

Thursday was devoted to setting up. It went pretty smoothly, with just myself and my brilliant but distractible boss sticking bikes and stands together. Appallingly nice local volunteers kept turning up and offering their services. One guy quietly put a bike together, non-creepily offered to drive me to a party in Fort Collins, and when I declined, non-ironically put on his cowboy hat and wandered off to help someone else. Maybe I won't get quite so affronted the next time someone says East Coasters are cold and suspicious. 

I also kept getting distracted by things like this:

The shiniest! 

And this:

Made by a yacht maker.... obviously. 

But the booth went up and it looked like this: 

And immediately got messy, but it looks fine here...

I met up with an old chum at a place called the Bar Bar, which is a bookstore/coffeeshop/bar/music venue and gave me hope that Denver wasn't just chain stores after all (for reference, picture the upstairs of Tattooed Mom's, but grosser, with books). In fact, I got the impression that Denver is pretty cool if you know where to look and avoid the downtown, which feels like a giant mall. And it is surrounded by the rockies, which dredge up every restless impulse in my soul and make me wish 1) I'd thought to bring hiking boots and 2) was not a wuss. 

And I am out of steam so I'll finish recapping some other day. 

Oh right, COME TO MY OPENING! This Friday. Some portraits. Be there. Moral support. I need it. 

Also, after the mountains, Philadelphia REALLY feels like a swamp. 

I miss snow.

-Isis

I knew blogging was a thing, but...

...I had no idea it was SO MUCH of a thing. I was reading random blogs on everything from bikes to boats to birthers (finished a big project yesterday=bored off my wick) and holy whole holy smokes people are self absorbed and petty. Also, I had no idea that oatmeal is the wonder food of 2013 or that it should be green:

EWWWWWW!

Damnit, I liked oatmeal. 

On Wednesday I'm heading to Denver for NAHBS so there will be radio silence followed by a lot of nerdy bike pictures. I've got it in my head that Colorado is populated by stoned Mormons, but that can't be right. 

On the plane I'm going to have a concentrated crack at Europe Central by William Vollman:

Yes! Heavy vertical Soviet-esque graphics!

It's good so far, in the relentlessly descriptive Vollman style. So far I still liked The Ice Shirt and The Rifles (both part of his North American Landscapes series) better, but that could be because they fit in my bike bag so I could read them in great gulps rather than sipping at the unwieldy hardcover on my side-table in the rare times I am at home and idle. 

That same hardcover is going in my carry on where it will be equally heavy. Hm. 

 That green oatmeal is still bothering me. Here's a recipe to counteract it:

DEATHBALLS 

1 jar smooth peanut butter

2 sticks melted butter

A box+ confectioner's sugar

Melt the above in a pot. If you let it burn a little you'll get nice caramelized bits, but don't char it or anything. Then throw the gooey mess in the fridge and invite your friends over. 

Once everyone has arrived and is drinking tea or toddies or glogg or absinthe or whatever, get the now hardened goo out of the fridge and conscript everyone into making little balls out of it. Then melt some chocolate in the microwave and dip the deathballs in it. If you're drinking tea they will be nice, neat round little cookies. If you are drinking toddies, absinthe, moonshine etc, they will be neither neat, round nor little. Who cares? 

Then, DEVOUR. 

You're welcome. 

-Isis

....Imagine how it must be in Brooklyn!

Today I was standing in line at Whole Foods and the woman behind me had some opinions about my purchases. She told me that what I was buying (including but not limited to whole milk ricotta, whole milk yoghurt and whole milk) was 'dangerous'. She went on a rant about dairy and how terrible it is, especially the non-reduced kind. I would have dismissed her as a mildly annoying crackpot if the same thing hadn't just happened a few weeks ago. 

That time it was some dude who was making a huge deal about me buying croissant bread pudding. He was also telling me to be 'careful' and I really was indulging, wasn't I. I got reasonably annoyed, but was too polite to say much and then my cat ate the damn pudding anyway.

One crazy person rabbiting on at me is one thing. Whole Foods is full of stringy zealots who are a bit cracked on the subject of nutrition. But two of them? Is policing what strangers eat a thing now?

For the record, and this shouldn't matter. I am absolutely average size. In fact, I am so average I used to work as a fit model. I'm not saying being bigger or smaller than average should justify this sort of commenting of course, but I suppose it might be more understandable.

I am fortunate to have few issues with body image and food, so I will forget the Dairy Zealot tomorrow. But what if she'd gone to town on someone who was seriously insecure about herself? I know the topic of food and weight is a deeply loaded issue for far, far too many women. It's not just extraordinarily impolite to make comments like that, it could be pretty badly triggering. I hope these two twits keep their chia seed-encrusted gluten-free-cracker holes shut for the foreseeable future.

Ok, rant over.

Look! Here's a bucket of sloths! (Turn the sound off, it's obnoxious).

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I'll try to keep rants like the above to a minimum, but I had to get it out of my system. Sloths! 

-Isis

Addendum to Yesterday

Ok,  this is NOT COOL.

Don't you be rippin' off my Nabokov!

No offense to Rooney Mara who I'm sure is perfectly pale and fiery (I didn't see Girl with the Dragon Tattoo because violent movies make me jumpy) but couldn't they have thought of an original tag line?* There are very few things I consider sacred, but Nabokov ranks right up there with Morrissey's hair and Yeats.   

From the current events department, may I present The Pope Song. Please don't watch if you are offended by terrible language or if you are sophisticated. Or if you are at work. Or if you consider yourself an adult. SERIOUSLY. 

Snicker. 

As I get older my sense of humor is getting younger. Shame, innit. 

Over and out!

Isis

*Yes yes, I know it's from Timon of Athens. BUT STILL. 

Resuscitation Time!

So it's become apparent that a constant blogger I am not. There's something squirmily egotistical about expecting anyone to want to read about the minutia of my life. That said, I always have a lot to say about everything (and strong opinions about everything) and this soapbox is free.

I'm not going to be putting artwork updates here, since I just started a WEBSITE  that has plenty of messily presented photos of current and past work.

I will not post pictures of food, drinks, myself, or anyone jumping in the air.

I'll try to go easy on the cute cat pictures.

Not TOO easy. 

Speaking of cute cats, it is normal for a cat to like everything from bean soup to tofu to oatmeal to peppers to apples to pizza? Should I stop my Dorian from eating everything I eat? I've never encountered a vegetarian leaning cat before.

What I will put up here is time sensitive stuff, like events that I think are worthwhile and causes and books and music that are worth checking out. Also thoughts, rants and ideas.

Like, what the hell is this?

Sorry about the bad photo. It's a two-wheeler. 

It was hanging out in deep South Philly. If anyone has a clue what this is, please tell me? 'Cause I kind of really want one. 

Book for the day is Pale Fire by Nabokov.

I have read it many times, but every time I come back there is something new and delightful to find- like an extra row of pomegranate seeds when you thought that section was fully mined. I don't suppose I read it with an appropriately scholarly mindset, as I am most beguiled by the fictional world of Zembla that Kinbote has created. I'm a sucker for parallel universes in a non sci-fi setting. And the less explanation the better (Ada or Ardor does this too).

Person of the Day is Christine De Merchant. She lives in Canada and keeps many cats and builds wooden boats. I want to be her when I grow up. Her site is a little sprawling, but definitely worth the read. All those boats! Swoon.

I'll try to update this on Sundays-ish. We shall see.

Peace n Love (in the Pogues sense),

Isis