03.2.2011 | 11:28 am
A Note from Fatty: This post is going to wander a little bit, but rest assured: this is because I have a subtle mind, not because I am middle-aged and enfeebled.
When I write a blog post, I generally have certain expectations about what will happen next:
- Several people will comment on the post. Many will enjoy it. A few won’t. At least one of the comments will contain insights or jokes better than anything included in the post itself. This does not hurt my feelings.
- A few people will tweet or email me about the post.
- Everyone will forget about the post and move on with their lives. Including me.
- This item included because lists of four are too rare in this day and age, where it seems like there’s some unwritten law that lists must contain a prime number of items. Although 10 is also OK.
What I usually do not expect to happen is for the post to gather steam and generate either very angry responses or awesome opportunities.
Last week, though, I wrote a jokey little post that did both.
Angry Leads to Awesome
The idea for the post came when I gave my friend Kenny some ProBars. As I did, I mentioned to his girlfriend Heather — a vegetarian — that she might enjoy them, because they’re vegetarian (I meant to say vegan).
“You mean,” she joked, “these energy bars don’t have little pieces of meat in them? How original.”
And of course, a lightbulb went off in my head and I wrote my Meat-ergy post.
As some of you know by now, this generated a little bit of a fuss among some readers. This bothered me at first — I’m a pretty thin-skinned person, sometimes. This consternation turned, however, to pure joy as my friend Dug took one particularly sanctimonious comment and pretty much crushed it.
That, by itself, would have been a sufficiently awesome unintended consequence. But it got better.
I also heard from Derek, who said:
“Hey, one of the companies I represent makes a beef bar, and a beef and berry bar, and jerky. Send me your address and I’ll send you a box. They actually are great one a ride.”
Naturally, I sent him my address, and the next day (literally) I had this:
Buffalo, beef, and berry meat-ergy galore, all packaged in easy-to-stuff-in-jersey form factors.
The Runner and I tried out several different flavors and came to the same conclusion: Yum.
Having one or two of these in the jersey, we agreed, would be an awesome antidote to the “sweet carbs overload” effect you get when eating and drinking sweet stuff nonstop for hours on end.
“I ought to contact Derek and see if he’d like to throw some of these in the 100 Miles of Nowhere Schwag Bag,” I told The Runner, and went over to my email.
But I never needed to propose this idea to Derek, because he had already left an email suggesting that exact thing.
So — in addition to the carbs — expect some protein in your 100 Miles of Nowhere bag this year.
And if you’re a vegetarian, give it to someone who’s not.
Wherein I Restore Balance to the Universe by Giving You an Awesome Vegetarian (Maybe Even Vegan) Burritos Recipe
To read all this meat-ergy stuff, you might get the impression that I’m a strict carnivore. In reality, I am not. In fact, with a practicing vegetarian in the house (The Runner’s youngest), I go out of my way to prepare vegetarian dishes pretty often.
And recently, I found (and then tweaked) a recipe for really fantastic vegetarian burritos. The original recipe comes from my sister Kellene. I’ve modified it a little bit as I experimented with it.
Whether you’re a vegan, vegetarian, or omnivore, give this a try. I think you’ll like it as much as my family does.
Ingredients
2 cans vegetable broth (Kellene’s original recipe called for chicken broth for her “vegetarian” burritos. Kellene cracks me up)
2 cans coconut milk. Or light coconut milk if you’re that kind of person.
4 sweet potatoes. Or are they called yams? I can’t seem to get a straight answer.
1 onion, chopped up real good. Or 2 onions, if you like onions a lot, like I do. Your call.
1 clove garlic, minced (or 1/4 tsp garlic powder if you’re lazy like me).
1 diced green, red, orange, or yellow pepper. Or, again, go with a couple peppers.
2 tsp cumin. I’m surprised every time I use this spice by how good it smells. Wow.
1 pkg frozen corn. Or canned, if you like your corn mushy and gross.
1 can black beans. Don’t use kidney beans. Kidney beans are nasty.
1/3 c cilantro, chopped. Is there a better smell in the world than chopped cilantro? Answer: no.
1 Tbs lime juice
1 c grated cheese (unless you’re vegan, in which case use whatever vegans use instead of cheese. Maybe a whole bunch of kale and spinach and sawdust?)
warm tortillas. Vegetarian tortillas, mind you. Or vegan, if there’s a difference. But I don’t think there is.
Chopped avocados. Chop them humanely, and don’t use avocados from a horrific factory farm where they treat their avocados cruelly.
Chopped tomatoes. I don’t have a joke to make about tomatoes that I haven’t already pretty much used on my avocados ingredient.
Shredded lettuce. See tomatos.
Mexican rice (If you don’t know have a good recipe for Mexican rice already, prepare as normal rice, but add a package of taco seasoning to the water, and maybe a little enchilada sauce)
Preparation
- Combine the broth and coconut milk into a pot, holding a little of the broth in reserve. Put the pot on to boil.
- Peel and chop the sweet potatoes, then add to the coconut milk mixture. Boil until the sweet potatoes are soft (perhaps just a little harder than if you were going to mash them). Once light pressure with the edge of a spoon will cut a sweet potato pice apart, you’re there.
- While the sweet potatoes are on to boil, saute the onion, garlic, peppers, and cumin in the remaining vegetable broth. Sauteing using broth is a great way to skip using oil or butter and still get excellent taste.
- Cook the corn per package instructions.
- Strain the black beans.
- Once the sweet potatoes are soft, strain them from the coconut milk mixture (discard the coconut milk mixture).
- Combine the sweet potatoes, the sauteed onion mixture, the corn, the beans, the cilantro, the lime juice, and the cheese.
- Wrap the sweet potato mixture in tortillas along with some rice, avocado, tomato and lettuce.
- Top with your favorite salsa. Or your second favorite salsa.
Enjoy. I mean that seriously. You will enjoy these. Or I will be very angry at you. You think I bend over backwards, slaving over a hot stove all day for you to not enjoy these delicious burritos? Darn right I don’t.
Here, have another one.
PS: I did not include pictures of the food, because any picture I have ever taken of food has made that food look gross. You’re welcome.
Comments (61)
03.1.2011 | 7:38 am
A Note from Fatty: I just got confirmation that I’m in for my fifteenth Leadville 100. Which means I should probably start training and dieting in earnest. I’m curious how many Friends of Fatty also got in, or are planning on to come up to watch, or support a friend / family member. Maybe we should have a barbecue? Leave a comment and let me know.
Another Note from Fatty: Back in early January, Kenny asked me for a favor: appeal to my readers to help him get into Kona Bike’s 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo. My condition to him was that in return, he’d need to write a race report, with awesome photos. You delivered, and now he has too. Enjoy his story!
Kenny’s Race Report: Kona Bike’s 24 Hours in the OIld Pueblo
One of my favorite races is Kona Bike’s 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo put on by Epic Rides – a fast, swoopy, desert single track mountain bike race outside of Tucson. It’s the largest 24 hour mountain bike race of its kind.
The logistics involved in getting to the start line of the 24 Hours of Old Pueblo are time consuming and difficult. You need shelter, food, heat, a generator to charge lights, all of your bike stuff – tools, helmet, shoes and clothes to ride in. You need to coordinate everyone’s schedule and everyone’s stuff.
And you need to be mentally prepared to spend many, many hours behind the wheel. Racing for 24 hours following a 14 hour road trip is probably not the best pre-race preparation strategy. In fact, I’m convinced that it could easily cause a psychotic break and/or medical crisis leading to death.
But it had been a while since I had done this race with my team, the Jack Mormon Militia, and the memory of the painful drive had faded, and the memory of the super fun race had grown. So, when I was looking for an event in February, I decided that the 24 hours of Old Pueblo would be fun to try again.
My racing buddies Chucky and Josh said they were interested, but when I checked on-line registration, I discovered that the race was full. Later that same day on facebook, Epic Rides posted a contest for an entry to their race – write a “comment” on the Epic page, and whoever got the most “likes” on their comment would win the last entry of the race.
Yes, a popularity contest! And since I am a pretty big deal in the biking community …
OK, OK, maybe I’m not such a big deal – but I know someone who is. Sometimes, it is a good thing to be a Friend of Fatty. [Ed. Note: Is it ever not a good thing to be a friend of Fatty?]
Five hundred and eighty “likes” later, and it was time to get the JMM crew back together. Thank you, Fatty and to all the readers of the fatcyclist blog who voted me.
Getting the band back together
With a few calls and e-mails, I re-united with my old JMM team mates: Josh Wolfe, Chucky Gibson, and Matt Harding.
And because my winning entry was for a 5-person co-ed team, I added the first woman to serve in JMM ground combat – pro racer and fitness trainer, Lynda Wallenfels.
My team is fast. Very fast. But the 5-person co-ed category is extremely competitive. Since every minute of our lap times would count, I did some research and discovered a recent biking invention – these strange shifty bits that fit on your bike, allowing you to change between different gear ratios by just pushing a little lever. I know, it’s a radical thought, but I was thinking with the help of these things — I’m going to call them “gears” — I could pick up a few minutes on each lap. And we would be just that much more competitive.
And secretly, I was a little worried about having slower lap times than our token female JMM.
We packed up all our gear and headed down with a stop in St. George to pick up Lynda. OP town was crowded, but thanks to my girlfriend Heather and the cutthroat team, we had our spot reserved.
Pre-ride and course
We arrived just in time to pre-ride the course. We had all done the race before, but it always helps to refresh your memory. Especially in this race, where every living thing seems to have a thorn on it. The Cholla bush, in particular, is a nasty little desert creature that lurks just around every off-camber singletrack turn, waiting to hurl big prickly chunks of itself onto unsuspecting riders.
The OP race is not official, in fact, until a racer crosses the finish line dripping blood from a cholla-skewered appendage.
We finished our pre-lap just before the western sun set the sky on fire in one of the most amazing desert sunsets I’ve ever seen.
It was a good omen, and it turns out, riding a bike with gears is just like riding a bike: you never forget.
Wind. Dust. Rain
We woke up the next morning to menacing clouds, great gusts of wind and lots of blowing dust. Pre-race nerves were replaced with hunkering down so all our gear didn’t blow away. Josh took the LeMans start, followed by Chucky, then Lynda third, which would hopefully allow her to complete her first lap before we started lapping other teams. It’s harder for women to pass in these races, because all of us ego-maniac men hating being “chicked.” The team line-up would finish with Matt and then me.
Despite wind gusts of over 50 miles an hour, Josh did great in the run and finished his lap in the top 25. Next up, Chucky pulled off a 1:02; the fastest lap from our team. Lynda survived a wind-induced cactus encounter and also had a great first lap.
By the time it was my turn to head out, we were starting to lap the slower teams. But thanks to Lynda’s daughter, Emma, I had a super-secret weapon – a hamburger bell mounted to my handlebars.
I don’t think my handlebars have ever had so much stuff on them before – they didn’t know what to do with all this mounted hardware. But the bell was totally worth it. Rather than an “on your left,” or “can I pass when it’s convenient,” or a “faster rider coming through get out of my way,” all I had to do was ding the burger bell and riders would immediately start looking for a place to move over. I liked the bell so much, in fact, I tried to steal it from Emma at the end of the race – unsuccessfully, it turns out, because Lynda took it off my bike when I wasn’t looking.
The Race Heats Up
By the end of our first rotation, the No Tubes team was ahead of us by about 10 minutes. We had a race on our hands! The No Tubes team had sent their ringer, pro racer Ben Sontag, out for two consecutive laps – two of the fastest laps in the race. But the key to a successful 24 hour team is consistency, and our team was very consistent in its consistency. With live iPhone results (which can become addictive, causing recurrent and frequent screen refreshing), we could see that we were staying within about 8 minutes of each other in our lap times.
During the night, we put about 20 minutes on the No Tubes team, taking over first place.
My second night lap is always my slowest, and this time was no exception. It’s strange how I always feel like I’m going super fast, but I’m always about 8 to 10 minutes slower than my day laps.
When morning hit, the No Tubes team sent out Ben for two more super fast laps trying to bridge the gap. He came close, but when he finished his 5th and final lap, we still held a small lead.
I felt really good on my last lap. The rain combined with hundreds of riders circling the course had turned it into a hard pack speed track. There were actual skid marks on top of the dirt, it was packed so hard. The wind had subsided and the temperature was perfect. I was overtaking some of the lapped riders so fast that I would have to start ringing my hamburger bell from 20 to 30 yards back.
I came up on a young rider fairly fast and skidded to a slow pace behind him because there just was no cactus-free room to pass. I had already rung my bell before I reached him. I think I made him a little nervous because of how fast I came up behind him. He wobbled his bike around looking for a spot, and just as I was saying “no worries,” he slammed on his brakes, half wheeled me, and turned hard, knocking me to the ground on top of a waiting cactus.
I got up and hopped back on my bike, trying to say thanks for attempting to let me by – but in my cactus-prickled, out-of-breath haste, all I got out was a quick “thanks,” which I’m sure sounded sarcastic — as if I was thanking him for knocking me into a cactus.
Even with the cactus Incident, I pulled off my fastest lap of the race. Matt helped pick the spines out of my back and shoulder, while Josh went out for the last lap – securing us a spot at the top of the podium.
We got our trophies, packed up and headed home. We didn’t have much luck finding the local burger joint, Four Guys and a Super Fast Girl, so we had to settle for the nourishing burgers and fries at Five Guys, where Lynda out-ate us all.
Chucky bought a pack of candy cigarettes, and we all had a celebratory “smoke.”
And then Matt celebrated our win by spending the next four hours throwing up out the window.
This was by far one of my favorite races of all time. Despite the hurricane gale force winds, 28 hours of travel and the fact that a week later, I’m still picking spines out of my back, I thoroughly enjoyed my time spent in the Arizona desert.
Comments (39)
02.28.2011 | 10:57 am
Last night the 2011 Bloggie Awards were handed out. In years past, I’ve campaigned pretty darned relentlessly for the “Best Sports Blog” award, but since I am now The World’s Only Sports Bloggie Hall of Famer, I figured there wasn’t much point in beating you all about the head and shoulders with repeated requests to vote for me in the sole category in which I was nominated: “Lifetime Achievement.”
So I left you in peace.
And yet, you did this for me:
What does this mean, exactly? Well, it means that I’ve been blogging quite a bit longer than most bloggers. It also means that all the begging and cajoling I’ve done in years past wasn’t just annoying, it was perhaps unnecessary.
It also means that I now am entitled to refer to myself as a “beloved celebrity ultra-megastar hall-of-fame, social media, and lifetime-achievement award-winning cycling comedy blogging sensation.” And, naturally, to expect others to call me by the same term of endearment.
I am training my children on the proper sequence of words. I’m working on The Runner too, though she seems to be putting up considerable resistance, for some reason.
I assure you, however, that in spite of the almost crushing amount of fame I endure — I was very nearly recognized by someone as I purchased bread to make sandwiches for my kids’ school lunches — and number of interviews I have granted (none so far, but the morning is still quite young), I firmly resolve not to change.
At least, I will not change in any way that I don’t deserve to change.
For example, I do not intend to change how hard I race. When I go and do the Leadville 100 this year (I’ll find out whether I got in later today, although I assume I will, since I have won a Lifetime Achievement Bloggie), I will still give it everything I’ve got. However, if I don’t finish in under nine hours (for the fifteenth consecutive time), I think I’m entitled to say, “Well, perhaps I didn’t finish in my target time, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I have won a Lifetime Achievement Bloggie!
Or when someone says something snarky in the comments on my blog, I will no longer wait a full 24 hours to cool down before posting an angry and inflammatory reply. Instead, I’ll simply say, “Well, that’s an interesting point and it might have some merit if you had won a Lifetime Achievement Bloggie.
Also, I may go ahead and hire Dug as my full-time troll combatant.
Finally, I believe that — as a Lifetime Achiever — I shall begin charging appearance fees whenever I go to anywhere. I tried this for the first time last night, at the entrance to the grocery store. Specifically, I held up a cardboard sign upon which I had hand-lettered “Will appear for money.” I got arrested for panhandling.
I offered to give the cops a discount on my appearance fee at the courthouse if they would loosen the handcuffs. I guess they don’t read my blog though –probably the only ones left in the world who don’t — because they just laughed.
They are going to be so embarrassed when they find out who they mistreated this way.
Comments (39)
02.24.2011 | 5:23 pm
A Note from Fatty: The good folks at the Leadville Trail 100 have asked me to spread the word that if you’re following them on Facebook, the best page to connect up with them is here. And, just out of curiosity, I’m wondering: how many Fat Cyclist readers have sent in applications? And should we organize a meetup in Leadville this year? Cuz I kinda think we should.
Back in December, I did a contest where we raised money to help Andreas Knickman in his fight against bone cancer. The prize on offer was incredible: an entry in one of the tours Andy Hampsten is organizing in France and Italy this year.
We raised a ton of money, and helped Andreas out, both financially and with an incredible show of moral support to him and his family.
And then I never announced who the winner is.
Sure, I had my reasons. Which I will explain shortly. But first, I’d like to gloat just a little bit.
Gloat
Last night, The Runner and I were invited up to Ogden, to join Chuck Ibis and ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN for dinner.
The thing is, we didn’t go to a restaurant. Nope.
Instead, Andy and his wife Elaine cooked. A delicious Italian meal. And they gave us a really incredible gift: a five-liter tin of olive oil from their Extra Virgin Olive Oil Co.
And then we talked about biking. And food. And more biking.
And I, being who I am, just would not shut up.
Yes, that’s right: I’m sitting across the table from ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN and I’m monopolizing the conversation, talking about riding the Kokopelli Trail and riding the Leadville 100, and riding the trail network in American Fork Canyon.
All good rides, sure, but you’d think that maybe — just this once, seeing as how I was sitting across the table from the only American to ever win the Giro d’Italia — I’d have asked him about his stories.
Nope. I went on and on. Because I was having a hard time grasping the fact that I was in the presence of a couple of cycling legends and I was about to swoon.
And cuz I’m a dope.
However, in one moment of lucidity, I did produce some Fat Cyclist-related merchandise for Andy, and even got him to put on one particular item:
I’m pretty sure that Andy is — with the exception of Dr. Lammler, of course — the only person who has ever worn this t-shirt who knows the exact extent to which this statement is true.
Oh, by the way, if you’d like to have one of these shirts for your very own, Twin Six still has some. Men’s here, women’s here.
Meet the Winner
So now I’d like you to meet the winner of the trip for the bike tour with Andy: Laura, from the San Francisco Bay area:
Here’s what Laura had to say about winning:
I’m 40 yrs old, an orthopaedic surgeon, and I’m from the San Francisco Bay Area. Been riding bikes forever (never been fast but I keep trucking).
My husband and I have been doing self-guided bike trips with friends the last couple years. Last year, we rented a villa between Radda in Chianti and Castellina, and rode out and backs each day for a week.
I’ve been following Fatty’s blog for quite some time since I have a very prominent family history of breast cancer; his stories of Susan hit close to home. When I saw he had a fund raiser on for a kid with osteosarcoma, I had to donate. Really didn’t think I’d win!
OK, so now the reason I haven’t mentioned the winner of the Andreas Knickman contest until now. It’s because The Runner and I have been trying to figure out whether it’s possible for us to join that winner on the tour she selected.
Well, we’ve figured out the timing, my Mom has agreed to watch the kids, we’ve pulled together the money, and we are doing it.
So, we’ll be joining Laura for the Alps & Gorges trip in France August 27 – September 4.
Oh, and there’s a good chance Chuck will join us, too.
So yeah: we’ll be riding L’Halpe d’Huez with ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN this Summer.
Or at least, in the same general vicinity.
So, Why Don’t You Come Join Us?
Last night, I asked Andy if that tour’s full yet. It’s not. In fact, there are 10 slots still open. So, if you’ve got the time and money and think it might be fun to come ride with ANDY FREAKING HAMPSTEN and Chuck Ibis and Laura and her husband (sorry guys) and The Runner and me, well, I can’t imagine a more awesome thing in the world than having Team Fatty totally own this tour.
(Full Disclosure: I’m saying this ‘cuz I want to. I have no financial interest whatsoever in this or any other Cinghiale tour).
There’ll be tough rides — amazingly tough, actually — but I can vouch for the people. Seriously, this is going to be about the dreamiest dream vacation ever.
And Andy’s a darn good cook.
Comments (39)
02.23.2011 | 7:12 am
A “Hey Check Out the New Banner Photo” Note from Fatty: Jo Ann from Western NY sent in the new banner shot, which was taken by Ron George. Thanks for sending that photo in, Jo Ann!
I’ll be changing the header photo on an irregular basis now. Any time you have a photo you think belongs in the header, email it to me, with the subject “Header Photo.” Thanks!
You are a cyclist, and so, naturally, you are sometimes frightened by the multi-ton vehicles — I call them “cars” and “trucks” — with which you must share the roads. And you should not be ashamed of your fear or confusion. After all, did you know that if you have a collision with one of these cars and / or trucks, the odds are you’ll sustain as much damage as the other vehicle?
Or quite possibly more!
Well, it’s true. And did you know that many — if not most — of these cars and trucks are, roughly speaking, ten gazillion times faster and heavier than you?
Well, that’s true too!
And — just one more little fact here — were you aware that, due to the inequity in size and speed between cars / trucks and bicyclists, there is a often a perceived animosity between these two categories of vehicles?
Yes, true again!
Of course, you’re no simpleton. No fool. You weren’t born yesterday, or probably even during a year that began with “2.” So you may well have already been aware of the above tidbits of information.
But here’s something I’ll bet you didn’t know: practically every single one of those cars and trucks actually has a human occupant inside — a living, breathing, human being. A regular person, very much like you or me — except for you and I are getting exercise and enjoying the outdoors, while the person in a car is breathing recycled air, is paying huge amounts of money for the nonreplenishable fuel propelling them, and accelerates / decelerates by barely moving their toes.
But otherwise: yep, people just you and me! I know. Take a moment to let that sink in.
OK, now that you’ve wrapped your mind around the fact that those cars (and trucks!) are filled with people (yes, people!), ask yourself: is it really possible that those people (!!!) — folks just like you and me — could really be so angry at us just because we have more fun getting from place to place than they do?
Of course not! That question was rhetorical, silly!
The truth is, the animosity and aggression and downright evilness you sense from certain car pilots is nothing more than a misunderstanding. Once you get to better understand the intentions behind the automotive pilot’s actions, you’re going to feel much, much better about sharing the road with them.
I’ll give you some examples.
SITUATION ONE: HONKING AT YOU
What happens: A car honks at you as it goes by, startling you and very nearly (or actually) making you crash.
What you think it means: “That jerk thinks it’s funny to make me swerve and crash!”
What it really means: The pilot of the automobile is struggling with feelings of insecurity, and has been for quite some time. Upon seeing you, these feelings have resurfaced, triggered by jealousy at your confidence, your athleticism, and your dashing lycra outfit.
Naturally, the car pilot’s first instinct was to pull over to the side of the road and weep at their own inadequacy and envy. Fighting down these ugly thoughts, the driver has instead chosen the high road: to instead give you a friendly greeting.
Unfortunately, this inner struggle took a little while to resolve itself. As a result, the person in the car didn’t honk until they were right beside you. Hence inadvertently startling and (hopefully nearly) injuring you.
Still, it’s the thought that counts.
SITUATION TWO: SWERVING AT YOU
What happens: A car swerves very close to you.
What you think it means: “That joker is either not paying attention to the fact that I am here on the road too, or thinks it would be funny to run me off the road!”
What it really means: The automotive pilot (sometimes called a “driver”) wants you to know that because they take your safety very seriously, they want you to know they’re in total control of the vehicle they’re operating. Hence, they are engaging in highly complex and sophisticated maneuvers designed to demonstrate the high level of skill they have with their automotive contrivance.
They’re showing you that their control over their car is so complete, so total, that they can execute what would otherwise be a foolhardy and potentially murderous action with total confidence. And that, therefore, you should feel totally safe, because the person behind the wheel (car drivers control their bikes with wheels, strangely) is not just a good driver, but an expert driver.
Kind of like the way the Blue Angels fly really close together, in tight formation. “Hey,” you should think to yourself, “If the driver can come within a hair’s breadth of killing me and still be smiling, this must be a rare driver indeed, and one in which I can put my complete trust!”
Isn’t that nice to know?
SITUATION THREE: THROWING STUFF AT YOU
What happens: The driver throws a beer bottle at you as they go by.
What you think it means: “That driver has just assaulted me with a deadly weapon. I’m pretty sure that’s a felony!”
What it really means: “Hey, you look really thirsty, and it just occurred to me that drinking while driving is dangerous, illegal, and stupid! Here, please take this beer, both to help me save me from myself, and because I suspect you might like some refreshment!”
SITUATION FOUR: MAKING HAND GESTURES AT YOU
What happens: The car driver makes a one-fingered gesture as they go by.
What you think it means: “This person, who has never met me before, has just insulted me for no good reason!”
What it really means: Did you know that in some remote cultures you have never heard of before, raising a single finger to the sky is regarded as a brief-but-earnest prayer, imploring mother nature to give those in the area good luck and excellent weather conditions for cycling?
It’s true!
So when a driver does this, consider it a thoughtful — and frankly, touching — beseeching of the higher powers on your behalf.
And please remember, in the cultures where such a gesture is considered a prayer, it is also considered rude for the beneficiary of that prayer to abstain from giving a similar prayer on the original supplicant’s behalf.
And you wouldn’t want to be rude, would you?
PS: Hey, I’ve started actually using my Twitter account. It’s a not-half-bad way to find out when I post something new. It’s also a not-half-bad way to find out what else I’m thinking about during the day. You know, stuff that sometimes makes it into the blog eventually, and stuff that doesn’t. Further, I promise not to tweet stuff about where I am or what I’ve just eaten. Unless I’m either at or have just eaten something very interesting. So: Follow me.
Comments (41)
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