145: the selfish fender

this is my selfish fender:

it keeps your ass dry, but sprays the shit out of everyone else on the ride.

many tried to bat away at my fender today and misalign it, but sure enough it did it's job, and my ass stayed dry. Don't drink the fender haterade.

Friday Diane had some errands to run down in Baltimore .

Being the helpful husband that I am, I programmed the address of where she was going into our handy GPS. As I left for work I noticed that Diane had left the GPS, which I had made sure was charged and programmed for her on the kitchen counter. ( we'll call this foreshadowing.)
Diane tore out of the and made her appointment with no troubles.

Shortly after 9:00 Friday morning, I got a frantic call from my wife as she had become lost on the 895, or the 695, or maybe it was 495 somewhere around Baltimore.

Diane was freaking out just a little bit as she was headed for Washington DC in the prime of rush

hour traffic, in a loaner car that she is not supposed to put more than 100 miles on. Coyly, I advise my wife to hit the “go home” button on the GPS because that would give her directions to get home from where ever she was. It got very silent on the phone other end of the phone.

I continued, “ if only someone somewhere could come up with some type of machine that could give people directions, and could somehow pinpoint where they were if they were lost, and help them get home easily.”

Diane’s response may have included some colorful words that might be appropriate for sailors, or long shoremen. yeah, it was kinda funny.

Needless to say, I helped Diane find her way back to 95 north, and she is now safely home.

dirty rings on my legs after today's ride:

Buddy did an excellent job keeping the group together. A few times Peaches, Slick Rick, Rotten Cousin Bob or I would feel a little froggy at the front. Buddy would roll up to the side and say,"lets keep it together fellas.." Buddy's delivery was very gentle, but somehow was very reminiscent of my father saying," don't you make me pull this car over..."

If my tempo was starting to inadvertently run up, he'd whisper with a smile to me, "they aren't bulls eyes..." I'd smile at him and assume my position at the back of the pack...

Later in the ride buddy would roll up and in his best Ward Cleaver admit, "we could have drilled it there, but that's not the our objective of today..." Hats off to Buddy for keeping the group together and the ride rolling...

Thanks everyone for a fun day.

Tomorrow, I'm sleeping in...

respect

faticus