It makes no difference who I meet
They’re just a face in the crowd
On a dead-end street. — “It Makes No Difference,” The Band
Sounds like day three of the Interbike trade show, doesn’t it? A convention center full of thousand-yard stares from zombies who are getting too much Scotch and not enough brains.
But cheer up, y’all — it’s only Day One of Outdoor Demo West, and the recession is over! I don’t know about you, but I rushed right out and bought me a Honda Element, a Canon EOS Rebel T2i EF-S and a second home in Santa Fe. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that our long national nightmare is over.
OK, so I rushed right out and bought some potatoes for the green chile stew I’ll be making this evening. Also a sixer of Bohemia. And I picked up an extra day of work posting news (remotely) from Vegas about stuff I can’t afford and don’t need anyway.
But I did persuade one of my colleagues who is actually at Interbike to spend some time focusing on affordable goodies. There should be plenty now that we’re all shittin’ in the tall cotton again, right? Right.

I was about to consider becoming a journalist; Then I realized you were messing with my poor little brain! Can you have a nightmare if you are awake?
I’ll be at Hinterbike Thursday and Friday, hobknobbing with our Italian friends and official suppliers among others. I’ll bring a camera with me as well and try to report via the CycleItalia blog on interesting stuff that would not likely get covered by the mainstream cycling media. And if I can get a shot of myself posing with some nice looking female types there (like the cute but classy women staffing the Campagnolo booth last year) you might see a few of those too. That’s about as sinful as I get there in Lost Wages! As to Analheim in early August 2011, I’ll probably skip it — I’d hoped Denver (LA @ 5000 ft) would get the nod but what do I know?
Hey, Charley, long time no see … where are you parked these days? Yeah, give the journalism bit a miss. Newspaper types were wearing paper hats long before the fast-food guys,
Larry, I’ll look forward to seeing your stuff from Sin City. If you have any extras that don’t fit on your blog, send ’em my way and I’ll slap ’em up here.
I like your Dog-gy Daydreams – especially the last one – a property with two Dog-hauses! Plenty of boltholes for the kitties and lots of room for the guests you can now house so Herself doesn’t have to leave town (and you by your lonesome)in order to see her relatives!
Hey, Libby … quite the DogHaus it is, eh? Makes our 1,200-square-footer here in Bibleburg look like a Tuff Shed. All we need is American money in quantity and it’s ours. “Take out a loan. Everybody does it,” as one ultra-wealthy homeowner once said when we were envious of her place and she suggested we buy it.
Yeah…Sotheby’s. Definitely where we do our second home shopping if we only want to pay out of pocket rather than hit up the family inheritance.
Of course, half of Santa Fe is closer to the Four Yorkshiremen sketch than Sotheby’s estates. And you can have a perfectly wonderful view of the Jemez while living under a viaduct along I-25 if you pick your overpass right.
But seriously, Patrick. If you and Shannon want to move back to the Land of Entrapment, there might be a perfectly good house available right around the corner from our digs on a great canyon rim lot. Just gotta be tolerant of the black SUVs fulla G-Men cruising around.
Sorry. Wrong second link.
http://www.krqe.com/dpp/news/crime/Ex-LANL-scientist-pleads-not-guilty
The Santa Fw home is appealing, especially compared to my townhouse in Boulder. On the other hand, my townhouse in Boulder is paid for. If I need a vacation retreat, I can always visit Rush and Mindy in the Springs like I’m doing right now while they’re at Interbike.
I did a mortgage calculation for Patrick’s dream house in Santa Fe-fe. With 200k down (i.e. 10%), 3.7% annual interest on a 30 year note, and assuming 1 % in taxes, Patrick and Shannon would be shelling out about $10,500 per month well into their geezerhood, bringing the principle plus interest to about 3.3 million dead presidents.
Better write more screed, O’G…