Unwillingly attuned.

It finally happened.

After a week of stressy work and coming home to unwind by watching Arch Enemy in concert, I had a horrific midmorning dream.

Without getting into the details, it involved me jumping out a 2nd story window of a house to desperately get away from a small black-haired girl who represented something very menacing. Accentuating the oddness of the dream was that it happened during a sunny, blue skied day. With vibrantly-green grass on the lawn.

Nightmares can be twisted.

Tonight, on a total whim, I went looking for a random image to post into a new blog musing and ran across something that sent a chill up my neck. I was thinking about the Swedish heavy metal band that I have been enthralled by lately and ran across a fan site where the fan was the EXACT SAME PERSON I saw in my nightmarish 2nd story bedroom. It was a moment when the world stops around you and your brain snaps to attention.

Was this right? Am I seeing things? This has got to be coincidence - move on.

Unfortunately, the more I clicked through the website, the more unsettled I felt... It wasn't the content. Just the imagery that matched what I had seen in my head the night before.

Within several seconds, I was gone. I am not interested in reliving any of my precognitive premonitional pasts from childhood. And brother, let me tell you... I have, in dreams, seen a few things that have made me a believer.

Something other than us overlooks our earthly gyrations.

Christians would like to call this Jesus. But I am not that confident Jesus is what is out there.

The feeling is not one similiar to deja vu (which is more of an instantaneous confusion and disorientation) but more of an immediate recognition and incredulity. Shock. I am hesitant to delve into this discussion any more, for regret of stirring up a religious firefight. Nevertheless, my suspicion is that you cannot run away from who you are or what you are attuned to, regardless of your lot in life. Some folks may have these experiences, but fall muted into the background noise of life. Others may show it off, Hollywood style.

Do you ever wonder how many of these singular and subjective events occur throughout the whole of humanity without being splashed across CNN? I try not to wrap my mind around it much. It can be maddening.

Then again, maybe Nietzsche was right and there is nothing out there but us.

The most horrifying thought of all...

Sock Monkey approves of the new 2009 Haro Freestyler

Despite all the controversy this bike has generated among BMX enthusiasts, Sock Monkey thinks its BAD ASS.

Curb hop on a BMX bike at age 38 and there will be blood...

Only one thought went through my mind as the aluminum pedal from the Kuwahara slammed into the front of my shin - Am I bleeding on my freakin' jeans?!?

No pain for now, but an interesting reminder of how quickly we bleed when we are older and put ourselves in the path of danger. Shamefully, this was only the result of a 3 inch curb hob on a Kuwahara I had bought my niece last Christmas. I guess I was just having too much fun while bike riding with my little nephew (who holds his own at 6 years old!)

Saturday I drive up to Austin to pick up a 2009 Haro Original Freestyler, which is much-controversied in the various BMX forums on the web. Meh. Whatever. I ride first and obsess later.

5 nuns walk into a fast food restaurant...

So 5 nuns walk into a Wendy's where I'm eating...

No, really. At lunch today, 5 nuns in black winter habits walked into the Wendy's restaurant where I was eating.

I just quietly ate my food and avoided eye contact.

Dead of Winter

Between the crisp blue sky and the silence of a frigid night, I march on.

The other morning, around 2am, I was reminded of why I keep an extra blanket around as the temperatures in the house dropped to about 63 degrees. Doesn't seem too cold, for those reading this, but when you are lying motionless in bed without so much as a sheet and comforter to cover your body, you will end up shivering. Also, I don't run my heater at night. Geographically, this region is considered sub-tropical, so I can't justify wasting electicity to try and keep a home of brick and fiberboard "warm" for a short time. Live here long enough and you will understand. It can be 80 degrees by 4pm the next afternoon. Bleh.

The recent fascination has been thermal underwear, although I must admit some of the stuff being sold in stores may not appeal to the average man. I made the mistake recently of picking up the "good stuff" at a local sporting goods store, paying about $30ish bucks per piece to ensure a nice warm sleep or foray into the woods, or overnight camping or WHATEVER. Turns out the long johns were about as sheer as women's pantyhose. Yeah. Picture that. Hairy guy wearing sheer thermal underwear that you can basically see through. I made sure to close all the blinds in the house after a test run with these things on. Although I must admit - they are warm. Well, coupled with a fleece on the couch. And maybe under blue jeans if I lived in Colorado. Maybe...

Continuing the irony, the last time I was actually outside on a bike was December 24th, when I did a test-run on the Kona in anticipation of riding some pretty rough trail on Christmas Day. Of course, my well-laid plans were upended with Cedar Fever and the horrific 3-week malaise and coughing that ensued. But this was totally unknown to me when I snagged a Pearl Izumi neoprene rider's jacket - for about a hundred bucks - that I planned on wearing while out agressively riding to keep my torso warm. Ha. Turns out I wear this thing to keep me warm inside my house most nights, since I no longer venture outside while there is enough Juniper pollen in the air to choke a horse. Life it strange like that.

Lest we forget how life tends to put the FU in "FUN", I had totally forgotten about my mainstay water supply in the form of a Camelback Rogue out in the garage some 3 weeks ago. As luck would have it, I had a few ml of Gatorade in the thing before I fell irreparably ill, but this did not stop me from taking a few swigs as it hung on a workbench about 12 days ago in said garage. As most folks know, the Camelback reservoir hides inside a thick black nylon bag, which prevents you from seeing the liquid contents of what you are drinking. You know where I am going with this... Turns out there were about 3 black dandelions of bacteria growing within the water bladder in the remaining fluid ounces of Gatorade. They literally swayed left and right as I took the bag out of the backpack and sprayed liquid bleach on the whole repulsive thing as it flowed out in chunks into the kitchen sink. End result - burned a hole in the plastic lining of the Camelback and scorched the remaining unknown culture of bacteria into some kind of green shadow. Haven't taken a drink from the bladder lately, but I sometimes wonder whether those black dandelions were growing in that thing when I sucked down salty Gatorade as I was recovering from Cedar Fever in late December 2008....

Ugh.