I gave myself a fright today when I reached into my right pocket to find that my pen was not there. I quickly traced back in my head thinking of places I might have been upside down during the day, horrified that it might be lost. But no, I was pretty sure I had left it in my shorts from the night before, and I was relieved to confirm this when I got home.
This is no ordinary pen: it is a Fisher Chrome Bullet Space Pen. And this is not an ordinary Fisher Chrome Bullet Space Pen, but one that my wife gave to me for my birthday while we lived in Edinburgh. Maybe a year or more prior I had expressed an interest in one, and while I’d forgotten about it she remembered, and managed to completely surprise me with one of the best birthday presents I’ve ever received. I carry it in my pocket wherever I go, which is easy and comfortable to do thanks to its compact size and smooth shape. I never tire of being able to answer, “Why yes, yes I do” when my wife asks if I have a pen on me.
I tend to get emotionally attached to certain objects. They’re not usually outrageously expensive things, but rather well designed, well made, or in some way commemorative of an important event or time in my life. I am very attached to this pen, which is why every once in a long while my heart skips a beat when I discover it’s not in my pocket. Whenever I use it it reminds me of her, and how happy she was to surprise me for my birthday (no easy task, I assure you).
We’re a few weeks away from our third anniversary, and I plan to carry this pen around with me until the chrome has worn through and the brass is polished by the inside of my pocket.
Never give up on a bike just because it’s rusty. We’re clearing house at the Bike Recycling Program because we are about to lose a good chunk of our storage space, so I recently ‘rescued’ eight British 3-speeds from the scrap heap. The one that I will most likely keep for myself is a 1972 Raleigh Sports.
A little before and after: the crank arm and part of the chainwheel have already received the treatment.
A while back I was looking around the web for a gentler way to remove rust from chrome than using fine steel wool. Chrome is porous, so rust on the surface can often be removed to reveal shiny chrome underneath; chrome is also very thin, so using steel wool or any other abrasive can only be done so many times before you’ve worn through. I found what I was looking for on a BMX forum: oxalic acid.
Oxalic acid is sold in the form of wood bleach, but this can be hard to find. It is also the main ingredient in Bar Keeper’s Friend, which can be had for about $2.69 at any supermarket.
I thought I'd have to replace this wheel; I guess maybe not.
The recommendation on the forum was to mix a mild solution of oxalic acid in water, and to soak the rusty parts in it overnight. The rust should wipe off with a toothbrush the next day. I tried this, and it does. An alternative I have tried since then is to make a thicker solution (like whole milk) and dip a rag in it, then use the rag to rub the rust off. Either way is a hell of a lot easier and gentler than using steel wool or chrome polish.
I keep Bar Keeper’s Friend in the workshop and at the BRP shop, and it turns out to be a great multi-purpose cleaner for around the house too.
Alright folks, how about a little refresher course in the right of way laws as they pertain to four-way stop intersections. From the Georgia Department of Driver Services driver’s manual:
At a four-way intersection where all drivers are faced with stop signs, all drivers must yield to pedestrians; otherwise the vehicles should proceed through the intersection in a “first to arrive, first to proceed order.” If two vehicles reach the intersection at approximately the same time, yield to any vehicles on your right.
I find it utterly infuriating, both on bike and while driving a car in Athens, when I arrive at an intersection at the same time as someone on my right and they give me the “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly go first, why don’t you go ahead?” wave. Like it’s courteous to completely ignore the rules of the road and confuse everyone else around you. Do people do this because they were brought up in the South, and are presumably hospitable to a fault? (This trait certainly doesn’t translate to other traffic situations, especially on game day.) Or is it that they didn’t bother to memorize the fairly simple and universal conventions that govern this situation?
When I’m on a bike it’s a bit more annoying because I usually have already come to a full stop and put my foot down, only to get waved through by someone who thinks they’re doing me a favor. It takes me the same amount of effort to start from zero no matter if I go now or after you, lady. Why not let me rest for a second? Next time this happens I’m just going to sit there like a jerk.
I’ve been toying with this idea for at least a year and a half, and always planned to do it when I resurrected Deathbike.net. Finally I’ve done it: check out the first draft of my critique of bike racks in Athens.
I am pleased to announce the rebirth of Deathbike.net, now fortified with extra Wordpress. This site has been around since 2001, though I can’t say it’s been active for that whole time. Let’s say a generous 60%. Maybe adding a bit of automation will encourage me to write more. I like this theme, pretty bare bones like the old Deathbike; you can expect to see a few style changes as I become more familiar with it.
As it stands now, I have not migrated any content (e.g. photo galleries) from the old site to this framework. I haven’t decided whether to make this blog a subsection of the greater Deathbike.net, or to make this blog the main portal. I’m leaning towards the latter.
So, forgive the sparseness. Coming soon is a gripping exposé of bike racks in Athens, GA.
I gave myself a fright today when I reached into my right pocket to find that my pen was not there. I quickly traced back in my head thinking of places I might have been upside down during the day, horrified that it might be lost. But no, I was pretty sure I had left it in my shorts from the night before, and I was relieved to confirm this when I got home.
