It's a conspiracy, I tell ya. The other night, my flight from Atlanta was delayed by almost three hours. So I got home late Monday night and didn't feel like doing much of anything. (When I go to my parents', I usually fly to Atlanta, then to one of the NY Metro area airports.)
Then, last night, I didn't have any internet connection.
Ya no, I got to thinkin' that Sam Wall himself was behind everything. Mr. Wall, I'm sorry about all of those terrible things I said about your fine retail establishment. I will never, ever use the name "Wal-Mart" in the perjorative, ever again. Yes, I promise (as I use Catholic school birth control, a.k.a., I cross my fingers).
So now you think I'm a conspiracy theorist. Well, not really. I haven't said anything bad about Obama since he showed his birth certificate. (All right, I never was a "birther.") But sometimes I think certain people-- e.g., certain retail plutocrats--have it in for me. Or could it be that the gods of something are angry--or crazy?
And I haven't done any cycling since I got home. Something's afoot, and it ain't my old Detto Pietro shoes with TA Anquetil cleats (the kind that nailed onto the sole).
I know. I'll get to ride again. At my age, I should know that. Still, I worry that I'll lose this spring, the way I lost most of last spring. Well, not quite: Last spring, I had infections and other illnesses. At least this year, my excuses are Life and the weather. (For a few moments just after noon, the sky grew ominously dark and I thought we might see another tornado here in NYC.)
At least for the last couple of days I had memories of a couple of pleasant, if short, rides from my parents' house.
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