[Updated 2/20/14 at the behest of my in-house editor]
There was a public meeting in my community about a road widening project. I’m a transportation planner—albeit for the region, not specifically for my community—and I haven’t really delved too deeply into the matter yet. Whassupwiddat?
Statewide news is blabbering about the major improvement of the four lane highway I can hear humming from the end of my driveway and will be implementing a toll system for the entire road, including the portion I drive daily. And I haven’t written much about it. Whassupwiddat?
Promotion for the Rugged Red Trail half Marathon is open and I've not blathered about it as you would expect. Whassupwiddat?
Night before last we had a meeting at the Chainring stronghold to discuss the organization of an organized bicycle-type ride within the watershed where we drink and I didn’t jump right on that low-hanging blog-fodder. Whassupwiddat?
There is the ongoing formation of a statewide advocacy organization in Kentucky and I've not breathed a word. Whassupwiddat?
A gazillion acres of forested land sits fallow, awaiting the plow of mountain bike trail development…and you hear nothing from me. Whassupwiddat?
My wife has become a full-time bike commuter since Winterpocalypse 2014 went into idle. She's ridden her bike two days a week to work the past two weeks, and the days she's not worked she's ridden all over town running errands and cranking miles. Whassupwiddat?
I started a series on the misunderstood wilderness and kind of left you hanging, not delivering—as promised—on a grand finale. WASS. UP. WID. DAT!
I wish I could afford to hire Keenan Thompson to recite all of that on video for an SNL skit. Anyway.
I’ve got a lot to say and not so much time to say it in these days. The kids have been out of school and are just transitioning back after the Winterpocalypse of 2014. That’s been a routine buster. I’ve had much to do at work and—contrary to popular belief—I can be productive. I have two (or three hundred) writing projects that need my immediate attention. Plus, at the local library they have been trying to burn all of the books. It’s been exhausting trying to fight them and their torches off from the piles of books like the Computer Repair Manual (1983 publication date), Facts and Statistics for the 20th Century, DIY Carpeting for Quasi-Governmental Institutions, and the second edition of John Bronaugh’s Red River Gorge Climbs. These are important pieces of literature.
It’s a long way down to the creek for our sparse bucket brigade. And I suspect that nefarious Crash Test Librarian has been sabotaging our efforts in the darkness. We found the tire tracks of a singlespeed bike leading away from our buckets only to discover a plethora of holes in them. The buckets, not the tires. And I learned the term “plethora” from reading a book you fascist!
Anyway, there’s just been a lot going on and my synapses have been lit up light the Mythbusters’ Christmas tree. In fact, the other night I put my head on my pillow, closed my eyes, and I was treated to quite the light show behind my eyelids. Synapses.
My brain goes 900 miles a minute all the time. Speaking of exhausting…
I’ve known for quite some time that what I really need to do is simplify my life. I need to trim off all the extraneous fat. Unfortunately I’m compelled too often to just grab more fat to try and juggle. I put down one unnecessary thing and pick up five more to replace it. It’s exhausting being me.
What this means for the blog is that, despite my best intentions, I really can’t focus on singular topics right now and need to let the regularity of the blog go for a short time. I have complete confidence that I will soon find a block of time that I am compelled to fill with the composition of pointless ramblings about things that nobody wants to read about, and once I’m finished I’ll staple them up on this ragged telephone pole of the internet.
For now, please bear with me as I try to maintain the spectre of a semblance stability here on the Pavement’s Edge.