There are times I think back to 1991 and just marvel at the relationship that Jill, my editor at Bicycles Today and I had. I can’t imagine any of my current outlets being willing to publish this kind of thing. To begin with, it’s fiction. And it’s depressing, quasi-modern fiction. And it makes terrible demands of comprehension on its audience… and yet a lot of people seemed to read and enjoy it…
To set the stage — this is a ‘Squid story’. This is the second Squid story; I’ve already published the first one and the third one. There were five Squid stories in all, written by me between the ages of nineteen and twenty-one, the last one being an R-rated novella published in the “Some Prefer Nettles” ‘zine. Anyway, this is set in the year 1987, and regards Squid’s struggles with self-doubt and the UPS schedule – JB
Somewhere, down the street, the muted but insistent basso rumble of what surely must be the UPS truck touches Squid’s ears and brings him up, swimming, from the reverie in which he has been engaged, depositing him none too gently on the blue couch of his family’s living room. Within half a second, Squid’s tentacles are up and weaving gently as he scrambles out of his couch to the window. The nature of his subdivision is such that every truck, heavy machinery being so unfamiliar to the groomed lawns and hopeful starter homes set back upon them, makes a distinct impression on the sonic fabric, and Squid’s ears are better than most, probably as a compensation for his inability to see anything past his nose without contact lenses.
My cover story from last month’s Road&Track is now online. I’d prefer that (some of you) took my printed pages to bed with you, but the rest of you cheap bastards can now read it for free. Click on an ad, why dontcha?
We are out here running these streets, yo. Or at least these cul-de-sacs. It’s great fun. Makes me want to get a shifter kart and try to set fast lap around the neighborhood.
I still owe you a Weekly Roundup from last week. It was delayed because a few things were late to publish. But never fear, the recap of things done in the previous half-fortnight is here.
There it was, sitting in a secluded directory of my soon-to-be-decommissioned server like a remarkably shiny time capsule or a sealed letter to myself postmarked December of 2012: just over two GB of encrypted backup files from the laptop that I decommissioned more than three years ago. It took just an hour to download but I had to sleep on it before I could remember the password and then my quad Core i7 current lappie still required thirty-three hours to decrypt the whole thing.
Most of it was stuff I still had, and most of the rest was no longer useful — blurry out-take shots from my CX-5 review, anyone? But there were a few instances of glitter among the dross. Photos from an SCCA National Solo event that brother Bark and I did a while back. Four irreproducible snaps of a raven-haired woman standing with her back to me next to my Town Car, holding a thin black dress down against the evening wind coming off Lake Erie. A video of my three-and-a-half-year-old son jumping up and down at the local trampoline-bounce place.
Last but not least, the above image, suitably redacted and presented here for your amusement.
Massdrop is selling the Cold Steel Recon Tanto this week; in fact, they’re selling all sorts of Tantos. If you join Massdrop using this link then eventually I will receive free stuff valued at up to ten dollars. Thirteen readers have already done so; thank you!
I’ve been a Recon Tanto owner for more than twenty years. I love this knife to death. It can do all sorts of things. As my infamous pal Rodney can well attest, at least one of those things will get you fired — if anybody finds out.
“Does life ever feel too luxurious for you?”
A long-time friend of mine texted me those words tonight. It’s not hard to see why. After all, I’ve basically been assaulting the social media feeds of my friends with what seems like the most luxurious life a quote-unquote normal person could lead.
A weekend behind the wheel of a supercar with one of my best friends in the world. A first-class flight to Miami, where a waterfront suite awaited. Custom sunglasses sent to me as a congratulations for driving that supercar to the top of the podium. I won’t lie—sometimes I sit back and wonder how in the world I got to where I am today.
You have to admire the consistency of the Lumineers’ drummer. He always wears the same thing. Somebody must have told him it was good for branding. I think he looks like a slightly less intelligent version of Woody Harrelson on Cheers. Anyway. Like the song says, the hardest part of our server transition is over and done with. Sorry for the delays and the difficulty. Once I tune up a few things over the weekend, I expect we’ll be rolling strong for the next three years!
Kind of looks like they made this new Challenger T/A for me. In 392 form, it’s got the running gear from the Hellcat but only (only) 485 naturally-aspirated, bulletproof, non-heat-soaking horsepower. Plus double hollow headlights. How cool is that? The answer is that it’s very cool.
I’m in the process of moving this site, and a bunch of other stuff, to a new dedicated server. You might see intermittent availability; we’ve already had 53 minutes of downtime today. So if you try the site and it’s down, just be patient. Thank you!
(You know this man, so welcome BigTrucks to Riverside Green for a guest post. His outspoken personality has been a little too hot for TTAC lately, but he’s still cool with us! — JB)
If you’d asked me if I’d ever be a “Chrysler” or “Dodge” buyer back in 2002, I’d have flat out told you “no way”. Over time, however, My feelings towards Chrysler softened up due to the release of the Chrysler 300 and the Dodge Charger. One of my business partners purchased a new-to-market 2005 300c AWD and I test drove it. I originally looked at it as if it was an “old man’s car” or “wannabe Bentley” but it was after experiencing the then-luxurious seats, technology features and the powerful HEMI 5.7-L engine that I absolutely fell in love with the brand. Not only could I get pretty much everything I’d want in a car, but I’d have a spacious wrapper that didn’t cost as much as our 2007 W221 S550.
Talk about pressure. Acura gave my brother Prototype #0000 of the as-yet-unreleased NSX supercar. Told him he could enter it in the SCCA Targa event that spanned racetracks from Atlanta to Bowling Green. Gave him a factory race engineer. There was just one caveat: he had to come home with the trophy. No excuses.