Seventieth posting - show

Ever wondered what’s it like to walk in someone else’s shoes? Or take someone’s place in life? And was that person a high-profile male fashion model who sipped Perrier with Evian ice cubes, practiced the fine art of walking with a full bowl of champagne on his head, and didn’t wake up for less than $10,000 a day? Yep, that was me. My company is coming out with a line of apparel and had asked for a few volunteers to model the clothes for a “town hall” meeting. I manage one of the brands featured, so I figured I’d do my corporate duty. My brand happens to be a bike brand, but I oh so incorrectly assumed that bike shorts wouldn’t be part of the line up. Wrong I was.

There were about a dozen of us, a rag tag crew who fulfilled the long list of modeling requirements: size Medium. The event coordinator was a’bubbling with excitement. A former dancer, she could throw out a bend-at-the-waste, hand-on-the-floor, head-flip-up, like no one I’d ever seen before (or not that I’ll admit). She looked us up and down, divided us into 3 groups – blue, red and yellow – and tossed us our first of four outfits.

For the women, it was like a feeding frenzy of trying to swap colors, begging for longer shorts, pleading for a jacket. The guys did what we were told, including the one who was given cycling bibshorts, which we affectionately called a Unitard. Mine weren’t particularly bad, with the exception of two rounds of bike tops and shorts. On a bike, I have no problem with them. Haven’t been self-conscious in years, and normally could care less about what others think. In front of 500 co-workers, that’s another story….plus it was darn cold in there.

All in all, it was not an unpleasant experience, although next time, I’m getting an agent.

NATHAN

Sixty-ninth posting - hippie

Hi there. I'm watching the tour, glued to OLN expecting something big to happen tonight, as Dad said wait until the very end. I’ve actually ridden part of today’s rather boring stage, but with fond memories of stopping near Biarritz on the Atlantic Coast. It’s been tough to avoid hearing, reading or casually observing anything during the day about what I am watching at night. But, I’ve done this before, time and time again, and I can do it this year….albeit without Lance.

So this weekend I went to the craziest, wackiest, hippie-fest I’ve ever seen. Called the Oregon Country Fair (http://www.oregoncountryfair.org), I went with a riding buddy and his girlfriend – all 3 of us new to Oregon, but aware of how odd this place can be. Picture many thousands of tie-died folk of all ages, wandering around surprisingly organized treed pathways, lined with vendors selling various and sundry folk art and organic/healthy/vegan/vegetarian food. The first place we stopped was a booth selling hamburgers, but the cows they came from were free-ranging, Democratic-voting, and clearly intending to satiate our hunger.

The event’s been going on for nearly 40 years, and after parking in one of what seemed like a half-dozen parking fields, you’re greeted by friendly, waving (and probably high as kites) hippies welcoming you to the fair. Then walking up to the Will Call both, you’re thanked profusely (and in a haze of hash) by the ticket guy. Through the winding trails, no one gets jostled and the politeness level is high (like the people walking by). Music comes from one of 6 stages, ranging from a cappella to Pete Seger-wannabes to lots and lots of folk. And everywhere you look, is a tie-died hippie, many hand in hand with a half-naked, boobs-painted hippie chick.

All of it was very cool, and it felt good to be in a place so refreshingly non-corporate, truly friendly, and completely laid-back. Next year, friends, think about a visit, as I’d be happy to return for a second visit in 2007…!

Sixty-eighth posting - back!

Friends,

I’m back after a 3 month sabbatical. I can take these, right?

The Tour de France is happening. It’s summer in the Pacific Northwest. Things are good.

The only way I can think of catching you up with me and my life is by listing a few highlights, in no particular order…

Spent 2 days over Labor Day weekend in the Willamette Valley’s vineyards and wineries. I drank enough Pinot Noir for all of you, so don’t feel bad about missing it.

Have had 4 races since March. Portland Downtown Duathlon (1:50:15, 68th of 263), 10 mile Lake Run (1:18:00, 29th of 147), Helvetia Half Marathon (1:48:38, 262nd of 2163), and Musky 5K Run (21:48, 20th of 180?)

Signed up for Portland Marathon (October 1). Now if I can only figure out how to make a half marathon feel like a “short” run…

I welcomed myself to the neighborhood and among my new friends with a party a few months ago. Realized that my house’s capacity is about 30…but I know more Scotch drinkers than I thought...

Bought my first barbeque grill. Thanks to my friends in Johnsonville, Wisconsin, for providing the inaugural bratwurst. Pre-cooked them in beer, so they were perfect.

Attended my first (and last) bodybuilding competition. There were 6 amateur competitors from my office, and a group of us wanted to support them – and I was curious. Turns out I didn’t need more than about 45 minutes to understand that 1) I had no business being there, 2) I really didn’t have respect for the competitors (they called themselves athletes); it was more like a mild form of jealously combined with revulsion, 3) you CAN be too “close the action”, particularly when Speedos are involved, and 4) there is something freakish about jacked-out female body builders.

Have begun to enjoy doing yardwork. Don’t tell my parents, but keeping my yard and plants (and fishponds) in good shape is actually rewarding. I have absolutely no idea, however, how to use the automatic sprinkler system – prior owners left without the instructions, and I'm too lazy (and cheap) to ask for someone to come and fix it.

Still thinking about getting a dog…a shiba inu…although now I want one that’s strong enough to run with me.

I promise to be a better blog-updater, but for now, hang tight, and I'll get back more frequently when the TOUR DE FRANCE is over.

NATHAN