Nice Colorado Front Range Tour

[A Muzi]

[email protected] wrote:
>
> "Terry McGovern wrote these words in her journal when she was
> forty-three years old. Two years later she was dead. Around 8:30 p.m.
> on December 14, 1994, Terry left the Crystal Corner Bar in Madison,
> Wisconsin, and wandered into an unlit parking lot, where she either
> fell or lay down in the snow and froze to death. Her body was
> discovered around noon the next day. The coroner's report stated that
> death was due to 'hypothermia while in a state of extreme
> intoxication.'"

OT WARNING!
Yeah, I remember that. It's four bocks from my house.
Nice bar, too.

--
Andrew Muzi
www.yellowjersey.org
Open every day since 1 April, 1971

 

[[email protected]]

On Tue, 01 Aug 2006 02:01:39 -0500, A Muzi <[email protected]>
wrote:

>[email protected] wrote:
>>
>> "Terry McGovern wrote these words in her journal when she was
>> forty-three years old. Two years later she was dead. Around 8:30 p.m.
>> on December 14, 1994, Terry left the Crystal Corner Bar in Madison,
>> Wisconsin, and wandered into an unlit parking lot, where she either
>> fell or lay down in the snow and froze to death. Her body was
>> discovered around noon the next day. The coroner's report stated that
>> death was due to 'hypothermia while in a state of extreme
>> intoxication.'"
>
>OT WARNING!
>Yeah, I remember that. It's four bocks from my house.
>Nice bar, too.

Dear Andrew,

Er, four bocks? Five steins? Six lagers? Seven ales? Ten lights?

A staggeringly practical method for measuring distance from a bar.

Cheers!

Carl Fogel

 

[A Muzi]

>> [email protected] wrote:
>>> "Terry McGovern wrote these words in her journal when she was
>>> forty-three years old. Two years later she was dead. Around 8:30 p.m.
>>> on December 14, 1994, Terry left the Crystal Corner Bar in Madison,
>>> Wisconsin, and wandered into an unlit parking lot, where she either
>>> fell or lay down in the snow and froze to death. Her body was
>>> discovered around noon the next day. The coroner's report stated that
>>> death was due to 'hypothermia while in a state of extreme
>>> intoxication.'"

A Muzi <[email protected] wrote:
>> OT WARNING!
>> Yeah, I remember that. It's four bocks from my house.
>> Nice bar, too.

[email protected] wrote:
> Er, four bocks? Five steins? Six lagers? Seven ales? Ten lights?
> A staggeringly practical method for measuring distance from a bar.


Yeah, I used to be able to type.

--
Andrew Muzi
www.yellowjersey.org
Open every day since 1 April, 1971

 

[Dane Buson]

Claire Petersky <[email protected]> wrote:
>
> Another thread that would have been nice to have at least crossposted to
> .rides was the one about touring wheels, especially when it went off into
> non-tech things (IMO) like sleeping bags and tents.
>
> I feel bad for regular denizens of r.b.tech. As r.b.misc becomes r.b.soc,
> many of the more general bike posts that probably belong on r.b.misc have
> gone here.

Your post prompted me to wander back over to rb.soc. It looks like it's
still a barren wasteland, a screaming banshee wail streaming across the
landscape emanating from a mishapen evil creature lurking under the
bridge. God, say what else you will but V*n*e*an has staying power.

--
Dane Buson - [email protected]
"Religions change, but beer and wine remain."

 

[Michael Press]

In article <[email protected]>,
Dane Buson <[email protected]> wrote:

> Claire Petersky <[email protected]> wrote:
> >
> > Another thread that would have been nice to have at least crossposted to
> > .rides was the one about touring wheels, especially when it went off into
> > non-tech things (IMO) like sleeping bags and tents.
> >
> > I feel bad for regular denizens of r.b.tech. As r.b.misc becomes r.b.soc,
> > many of the more general bike posts that probably belong on r.b.misc have
> > gone here.
>
> Your post prompted me to wander back over to rb.soc. It looks like it's
> still a barren wasteland, a screaming banshee wail streaming across the
> landscape emanating from a mishapen evil creature lurking under the
> bridge.

Reminds me that I am re-reading Dante Alighieri presently.

Let us descend now unto greater woe;
Already sinks each star that was ascending
When I set out, and loitering is forbidden."

We crossed the circle to the other bank,
Near to a fount that boils, and pours itself
Along a gully that runs out of it.

The water was more sombre far than perse;
And we, in company with the dusky waves,
Made entrance downward by a path uncouth.

A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx,
This tristful brooklet, when it has descended
Down to the foot of the malign gray shores.

And I, who stood intent upon beholding,
Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon,
All of them naked and with angry look.

They smote each other not alone with hands,
But with the head and with the breast and feet,
Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.

Said the good Master: "Son, thou now beholdest
The souls of those whom anger overcame;
And likewise I would have thee know for certain

Beneath the water people are who sigh
And make this water bubble at the surface,
As the eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turns.

Fixed in the mire they say, 'We sullen were
In the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened,
Bearing within ourselves the sluggish reek;

Now we are sullen in this sable mire.'
This hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats,
For with unbroken words they cannot say it."

Thus we went circling round the filthy fen
A great arc 'twixt the dry bank and the swamp,
With eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire;

--
Michael Press