2011 Westport Kiwanus Triathlon Race Report

It wasn’t a bad weekend by any means save for the fact that my Tennessee Titans looked utterly inept.  As I noted on Saturday, we got home pretty early from swim lessons and shopping on Saturday afternoon, and I settled in to watch some pretty good college football.  I saw Army go down by three to San Diego State, and all things considered, that seemed like a moral victory.  Then the University of Tennessee laid the wood toCincinnati, setting up what looks like a pretty good game next weekend against the University of Florida.  I mean, Tennessee ain’t really Tennessee anymore, and I’m not sure how much Florida still looks like Florida, but the Vols’ QB and wide receivers looked pretty good Saturday—good enough to make me think that UT might actually be “Receiver U” again one of these days—and I don’t think I’m ready to buy into South Carolinajust yet.  So, bottom line, all predictions to the contrary, next week’s game might just be for the driver’s seat in the SEC East.  I know I’ll be pulling for the Vols with both hands. 

My parents and grandparents might be gone, but I can do at least that much to honor their memories.

Anyway, needless to say, I wound up downing that third beer Saturday afternoon.  Happily, I don’t think it affected me too much.

Pre-Race

Tri season is over, and to tell the truth, it’s basically been over for me since Litchfield Hills.  Moreover, right after Litchfield Hills, Sally and I decided to start training for the Hartford Half-Marathon, which means that I haven’t been on my bike or in the pool much at all in the past few weeks.  I’ve been running a lot, so I don’t think I’ve lost any actual fitness, but form is always a concern, especially in swimming.  Moreover, I’m still commuting on my folding bike, so although I didn’t think my riding was gonna be sharp, I was more concerned about not having swum in a month, especially in a race that’s decidedly swim-heavy.  The Westport Tri is unique in that respect.  It’s a full half-mile swim, coupled to a tiny bike ride and a short run.  So, bottom line, it tends to bring out as many well-rounded swimmers as actual triathletes.  Considering the way I race, that’s a potential concern.

To deal with that, Sally and I swam a bit on Saturday, basically trying to work out the kinks in our strokes and get warmed up.  I wanted to do just enough Saturday morning that I’d be able to warm up quickly on Sunday pre-race.  After that, it was time to get out, hit the showers, and go one with our lives.  After we got the kids to bed Saturday night, we packed our bags, made our Gatorade, laid out our clothes, and then sat down to watch some TV.  We got the movie Limitless from Netflix on DVD, and I liked it a lot. 

Got up the next morning at five.  Loaded the car, grabbed the kids, kissed the dog, and off we went.  It was chilly and more than a little windy on Sunday morning, but check in and set-up went well, and I had plenty of time for pre-race yoga.  And by our appointed 7:30 race start time, the air was almost as warm as the water, so what do you want?

Swim

Like I said, it was windy.  Usually the Long Island Sound is glassy on summer mornings, but with the wind coming in, we had swells of about two feet by the time you got out to the first buoy.  I was in the first heat, and after we finally got pre-race instructions, they blew the air horn, and off we went.

I didn’t feel like I got a great start.  I was in maybe the second row back from the water when we started, and it took me maybe 150 yards to clear the pack and get into the open water.  Even then, I could tell that a few folks were ahead of me.  Moreover, it was hard to see—both competition and buoys—in the swell.  Between the waves and the people, I was on full burn all the way out to the first buoy, and when I turned, it was only with an effort of will that I was able to make myself calm down.  Even then, I still felt like I had to muscle the swim just to stay on course and firmly in control.

Well.  If it was hurting me, odds were it was hurting everyone else even more.

In any event, the swim felt long but wasn’t really.  After Hurricane Irene, the shape of Westport’s Compo Beach has changed, forcing a change to the swim route.  What was initially a 12-minute point-to-point half mile because a 10-minute out-turn-and-back rectangle.  Complete with rip currents.

Eh.  I checked my watch as I came out of the water.  10 minutes exactly.  Like I said, it felt like a lot, but really, it was nothing to complain about. 

It took me almost a full minute to run up through the loose sand to Transition.

Not-Quite a Half-Mile Swim: 10:51.1.  1/20 Age Group; 7/255 Overall.

As it turns out, I came out of the water somewhere between 3^rd and 5^th, I think.  So there were several folks in the following heats who would go on to beat my time in the water.  That’s kind of a lot for so small a race.

T-1

Crossed the mat into Transition, ran to my bike, flopped down, grabbed my spare water bottle, and sprayed the sand off my feet.  Then I carefully threw on my bike shoes—trying not to reapply the sand I’d just removed—before adding helmet, cycling jersey, and gloves.  All of that went well except the gloves, which had me fumbling like an idiot.  Some guy beat me out of T-1, but based on later placings, I think he might have actually come in before me on the swim.

Anyway, soon enough I was out on the road.

T-1: 1:37.9.  5/20 AG; 31/255 Overall.

Bike

The ride out of T-1 was a little more than a mile and a half of straightaway—straight into the morning’s wind.  I got down in the drops and felt okay, but I didn’t have quite the pop I’d’ve needed to really lay the law on a super-short ride.  At the end of the straightaway, there was a little climb into a left-hand turn, and a guy passed me on a very nice time trial bike.  No biggie; at this point I think I was in 6^th.  The next piece was rolling, into a little left-hand turn that led downhill, and then we were onto the flats.  By this time, we were three miles in, and I was starting to feel a little better.  With ten more miles, I’d have turned in a nice ride.  Anyway, we turned right into a golf course, and I gunned it, chasing down a 14-year-old kid—obviously one of those well-rounded high school swimmers I alluded to in the opening—and found myself alone on the open road. 

Unfortunately by the time I felt strong on the bike, there was only about a mile and a half left to ride.  I chased down one more guy, catching him just as we dismounted into T-2.  By the time I entered T-2, I think I was 4^th.

5.5-mile ride: 15:56.5 (18.7 mph according to my bike computer).  7/20 AG.  26/255 Overall.

T-2

Racked my bike, quickly but carefully changed shoes (yeah speed laces!), and dropped my helmet and shades.  I ran out of T-2 pulling off my gloves and stowed them in my jersey pocket.  Y’know, I actually planned that.

T-2: :50.7.  11/20 AG; 60/255 Overall.

Run

I came out of T-2 even with the 14-year-old high school swimmer that I’d passed on the bike.  That kid was having a good race, and I told him so.  His answer was dismissive: he put on a burst of speed and tried to drop me.  I let him.  In fact, I slid in behind him and let him pull.  I’m not sure how much drafting helps in running, but we were running into a headwind, and I try not to be any stupider than necessary when I’m racing.  I felt strong, and folks cheering on the sidelines called out that we were in 3^rd and 4^th overall respectively.  That worked for me.

It worked even better when it turned out that the kid had shot his wad trying to drop me right out of T-2.  I passed him about ¾ of a mile into the run, this time for good.  At this point, I was in 3^rd overall and starting to dream of glory.

See, this is why I hate running.  Yes, I’ve been running more.  Yes, I felt strong and actually passed somebody on the run.  No, I’ve not been running enough to hold serve against real runners of my own age and ability at the end of a triathlon. 

They finally caught me with about ½ mile to go.  Maybe five guys, all running decisively enough that I could tell right away that I wasn’t gonna have the burst to hold them off, especially when we made it to the final turn and started running in loose sand.  Agh!  That sucked!  Whatever dreams I had of sprinting to the end died in the quagmire right then and there.

2.2-mile run: 16:10.3 (7:20.9/mile).  12/20 AG; 48/255 Overall.

2011 Westport Kiwanus Triathlon: 45:26.6.  3/20 AG; 11/255 Overall.

I crossed the line in 8^th, but of course, there were two more heats behind me, and it looks like three of the guys back there were faster than I was.  Well, there are some really good 40-something triathletes in Connecticut; finding that out does not constitute learning.  Still, I finished in the Top 3 in my age group, and that’s cool, and if you discount the one relay finisher ahead of me, I was in the Top 10 overall.  Nothing to complain about there. 

The course was substantially different this year than last year, so I don’t know how much there is to be gained by comparing the two races, but on the one part of the race that was the same—the bike—I was about 30-seconds faster than last year.  Like I said, that ain’t bad.

Sally’s Race

You might remember that this was Sally’s first open water triathlon.  I’ve been working with her on her swimming for the past six months or so, and I was anxious to see what she could do here.  Still, I’ll admit I was nervous when I saw the size of the swells Sunday morning.  I thought it was tough; I was afraid Sally was gonna panic.

Well, Sally came through in fine fashion.  She even said she didn’t think it was all that hard. 

If you’re wondering, Sally finished the swim in just over 21-minutes; rode the bike course in 18:48, and ran right at 20-minutes even.  She said she must’ve passed fifty people on the run, and frankly, I don’t doubt it.  She’s a fantastic runner.  Her total time was 1:00:47, putting her 10/27 in her Age Group and 155/255 Overall.

That ain’t bad at all.

Next Up: Hartford Half

And that’s all for the season. 

We switched over to a pure runner’s workout schedule two weeks ago, and as I said earlier, the Hartford Half is our next thing (hopefully), coming in mid-October.  Personally, I hope that putting in a full season of pure running work will show up a bit next year, but that, of course, relies on my being able to stay healthy, which is something that I’ve not been able to do for that past two off-seasons.  I keep having knee, back, or hip problems. 

Hopefully yoga and a focus on running form will help this time.  I guess we’ll see.

TV TV!

Lately Sally and I have been watching this show called The Glades using Netflix’s streaming service, and I gotta say that I’ve been digging it.  If you’ve never seen it, it’s another Sherlock Holmes knock-off, this time done as a police procedural set somewhere in the Everglades, with our resident “Holmes” played as a former Chicago homicide detective exiled to rural Florida following an affair with his boss’s wife.  In typically Holmes fashion, the lead—here named Jim Longworth—is a borderline anti-social misfit, though The Glades’s producers have altered the formula somewhat by making him a decided ladies’ man rather than playing him as asexual the way that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the producers of the TV Show House tend to do. 

In any event, I’ve been loving the show’s first season despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that it so closely follows in Conan Doyle’s footprints, footprints that’ve lately become a well-blazed TV trail.  I mean, how many misfit TV detectives are out there right now?  Gregory House is the most famous, but I think Castle, Lie to Me, and at least a couple of CSI franchise shows also follow the format, and it’s a good bet that a number of shows from the new season will, too.  But who cares, right?  I mean, I love the Sherlock Holmes stories, and I’m happy enough that for once a sizable number of folks seem to agree with me.

Anyway, after The Glades ended, Sally and I wound up tuning into the GOP primary debate for a while.  I know I said I wasn’t going to, but in the end, we decided that we wanted to see the spectacle first hand.  So we watched as some of the minor candidates walked through a bit on school reform and then watched all of them tackle the question of immigration and border control.  To my mind, what we saw went something like this:

Questioner: Immigration reform is a big issue.  How would you tackle it?

Rick Perry (going Macho): I’d deploy the U.S. Army to screen the border with Mexico, and I’d throw all those illegal dirtbags out of the country, pronto!  They’re takin’ U.S. jobs.

Mitt Romney (vainly trying to sound tougher than Perry): We don’t need the Army.  We can do it with technology!  We can build a fence—

Questioner (in disbelief): You want to put up a 2,600-mile fence?

Romney:  Absolutely!  With TV cameras and satellite coverage over every square foot.  And guard dogs!  And… and… and… sharks with frickin’ laser beams!  We have the technology!  We CAN control the border!

Newt Gingrich (slaps forehead): If you build a fence, Mitt, the illegals will just bring a ladder.  Why, when I was in Congress back in 1986…  and Ronald Reagan… 20 million illegals already in this country, and many of them already have families…

Questioner: Okay, Ms. Bachman… Let’s say the fence is up.  What do you do with the 20 million who’re already here?  Do you break up their families and deport them?

Michelle Bachman:  A fence!

Rick Santorum:  Yeah!  A fence!

Questioner: But what about the families, Ms. Bachman?  What do you do with them?

Bachman (slams table with clenched fist): I said a fence!  With guard dogs!!!

Questioner: *sigh*  Back to the original question, Mr. Cain.

Herman Cain:  We don’t need no damn fence!  We got laws in this country.  We just need to ENFORCE those laws!

Jon Huntsman:  No.  What Newt said was right.  And Ronald Reagan!  And don’t break up those families… 

Rand Paul:  Fuck that fence!  Employers should be free to hire whoever the fuck they want, and if Americans are too stupid to get the jobs, then fuck them, too.  I mean, a fence?!  You wanna know why they want a fence?  I’ll tell ya.  They don’ wanna keep illegals out.  They want to keep Americans and THEIR MONEY in!  Mexico’s growin’ twice as fast as America right now.  Pretty soon, all our jobs and all our money’ll be headin’ down there.  And THAT is why they want to build a fence!  It ain’t to protect jobs.  It’s to protect them so’s they can keep gettin’ at YOU and your MONEY!

So.  I’ve read a few summaries of the debates, and most of them said that Romney came off pretty well.  I didn’t see that myself.  For my money, Rick Perry was the only Alpha Male up there.  I mean, his idea of deploying the Army to screen the border with Mexico is ludicrous on its face—and yes, he did really say that—because it would take the entire army deployed 100% full time to successfully screen a border that large, and even then it’s an extremely iffy proposition.  But the way he said it, well, the man delivers his lines with conviction.  Watching him debate, I find that I can believe that he really does go jogging with his pistol on. 

On the other hand, I thought Romney came off stiff and awkward, Huntsman seemed the non-entity that he is in the polls, and New Gingrich looked like he was—easily—the smartest man in the room.  To put it another way, Gingrich was Gandalf to Perry’s Aragon and Romney’s Boromir.  Rand Paul at least came off as Samwise Gamgee—wise and tough in his own way—but poor Jon Huntsman was Pipin, Gandalf’s “fool of a Took!” while the rest were such complete non-entities that they didn’t even make it out of the Shire.

Gingrich won’t get elected, and I don’t want him to, but with the possible exception of Rand Paul, he’s easily the most well-informed on the issues, and he has something interesting to say about each and every one of them.  His defense of school choice via vouchers was well thought-out and concise (full disclosure: I loathe the idea of school vouchers), and his story about Ronald Reagan’s attempt at comprehensive immigration reform back in the 1980’s not only managed to name check the party’s patron saint, it also brought up a pair of excellent points about illegal immigration.  First, you can’t tackle the issue of immigration solely by securing the border, and second, there are a lot of long-term illegals in the U.S. who’re established members of our society.  Breaking up their families to throw them out of the country would be both inhumane and economically stupid.  Meanwhile, Newt’s finer points seemed to escape everyone but Huntsman and Rand Paul, and even Huntsman could only add that he thought that Newt was basically right.  I mean, Newt was obviously right, but no one else besides Paul and Huntsman even try to answer intelligently.  They all just stood there rattling their swords and trying to act tough.  In that, Bachman was actively ludicrous and Romney came off like Doctor Evil-light.  Paul’s answer, the strict Libertarian answer, was interesting theoretically, but as with a lot of what he says, for me it’s not realistic in the real world.  I just don’t know how much I believe that government is really trying to hold people in!  That’s a little too Orwellian for me.

In any event, I read a few debate summaries this morning to get a feel for the rest of the action and came away disappointed by the lack of depth to the coverage.  Still, my favorites came out of Slate and The Guardian.  Check them out if you’re interested. 

Or you can just wait for the next debate.  They’ve got something like six more scheduled for later in the fall.  And maybe that’s why the coverage of this particular debate was a little light.  The newspapers didn’t want to burn all their matches in one shot.  Something to that, I think.

GI Joe Renegades

On the heels of having watched GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra, the girls and I sat down to watch the GI Joe marathon on Hub.  They were alternating GI Joe: A Real American Hero and a new show that I'd never heard of before, GI Joe: Renegades.  Kind of GI Joe-meets-the-A-Team.  Nice concept.



Needless to say, a good time was had by all.

Weekend Update

We’re still cleaning up and basically trying to reorganize in the wake of our trip to Tennessee last week, so it was kind of an exhausting weekend, but it was still pretty good, I think.  I got home from work on Friday and made pan-seared sea scallops that my wife’d gotten on sale at either Big Y or Stew Leonard’s.  Either way, I prep’ed them in a rub of olive oil, parsley, oregano, salt, and pepper and then seared them on high heat for about 90 seconds on a side before serving with a mix of couscous and rice and steamed broccoli.  I’ll call the meal a raging success based solely on the fact that my younger, pickier daughter Emma went back for seconds, but next time Sally picks these up, I hope she gets more than a pound.  For our family, we needed about a pound and a half.

The next day was Saturday, and it was typical of our lives lately.  As usual, I was the first one in the house to wake up.  I got up, updated The Sellswords of Luskan and started working on the next piece of the ongoing campaign, and eventually Hannah and I watched cartoons once she’d awakened.  Pretty soon Emma came downstairs, and then all three of us trouped back upstairs to the kitchen, where I made a quick breakfast and then packed them off for swim lessons.  We were out the door by 7:50 and got to the pool a little after 8:00.  Emma’s lesson starts at 8:15.  Once I’d made sure that Emma had gotten to class on time and set Hannah up with a book and couple of coloring books, it was time for my own swim workout, my “long” workout for the week.  It was:

-          4 x 100 @ 1:30 Warm Up

-          8 x 200 @ 2:50 Swim (Aerobic Pace, Target HR = 160)

-          200 Kick

-          400 Pull

-          100 Easy Drill

-          5 x 100 @ 1:20 (Tempo, trying to hold under 1:10/100--without my heart exploding)

-          100 Warm Down

If you’re wondering, that took me almost exactly an hour and ten minutes.  By that time, Emma was out of the pool, and Hannah was in for her lesson.  So I scooped up Emma, threw her in the shower and got her changed, and then we headed back out onto the deck to watch Hannah.

See, here’s the issue: I’d like to teach my own kids to swim, but I don’t feel like they learn from me very well.  Hannah has this thing where she’s not breathing out while her head’s in the water, which means that she’s lifting her head to breath—both inhalation and exhalation—which in turn makes it very hard for her to get a full breath on her stroke.  She winds up basically swimming for as long as she can hold her breath and then doggy-paddling while she breathes frantically once her breath runs out.  And then she has to more or less start all over again from a dead stop.  All of which I think I could fix in an afternoon… if she were listening to me and diligently following my instructions.  But she doesn’t like to let me teach her that stuff, so when I’ve tried to teach her, we’ve wound up playing.  Well, she winds up laughing while I wind up getting frustrated.  So, bottom line, she’s still taking lessons from strangers, and I personally have time for a long workout on Saturday mornings.  Which is fine.  But I have to restrain myself from getting in the water with her and correcting either her stroke or her instructor every time we go to the pool together.

At any rate, Hannah finished her lesson at 9:45, and I threw her in the shower and got her changed.  Then we headed home—me grouchy from hunger by this point—and I snapped at Sally until I finally got done making the waffles that fed us and kept peace in the house.

I like to make buttermilk waffles using the recipe out of The Joy of Cooking.

After breakfast, I headed out again, alone this time.  I got a haircut, ran by Home Depot for the part I needed to fix my garage door, ran by the liquor store, went to the bike shop to get a couple of tubes for Sally’s rear bicycle tire, and then went BACK to the Y to pick up Hannah’s bathing suit, which I’d left sitting in the Family Locker Room.  Argh.  Still, I was lucky because the liquor store had both Sam Adams 48-degrees Latitude IPA and Sierra Nevada’s Torpedo Extra IPA, both of which are personal favorites of mine.  On top of that, I grabbed a couple of bottles of white for Sally, one of which was from a local vintner (Jones Farms) and one of which was a European chardonnay, but I don’t remember the vintage.  I was also lucky that the Y had Hannah’s suit.  On the other hand, I spent almost 40-minutes cooling my heels at the bike shop when all I needed was a pair of inner tubes.

When I got home, I immediately went to work on the garage door.  I’d thought initially that the left-side spring had broken, but it turns out that it was the fucking steal cable that had sheered through!  So I actually needed Sally’s help holding up the door while I ran the replacement cable and hooked everything back up.  But then I made the mistake of replacing the hook the cable hung on with one that was aluminum—and which promptly snapped under load—so that we ended up having to do the job twice.  Ugh.  Still, that was probably the worst thing that happened all day, and fortunately the hook failed while we were both outside and had the garage door safely closed.  In any event, after that I repaired Sally’s tire, put away the remaining clothes and crap from my trip last weekend, finally did the dishes from the brunch waffles, and basically poodled around until late afternoon, at which point I decided I could safely and honorably sit down and crack one of my nice, new beers. 

As evening fell, Sally and I sat out on the porch drinking wine and beer and eating cheese and crackers.  I’ve no idea what we had for dinner (Sally reminded me later that it was hamburgers).  Regardless, Sally was the one to put the kids down for the night while I did the dinner dishes.  After that, we watched Fringe on Hulu and then went to sleep.  Exhausted.

I like Fringe, but I think they have to start being a little more careful with the plotting, of the show is gonna go completely off the rails.  The cartoon episode with Leonard Nemoy was even weirder than usual, and if they don’t stop and explain not just what the big machine and the books The First People are but also where they came from, I’m gonna be pissed.  Weird plotting is fine, but there’s a fine line between plot eccentricity and plot manipulation.

In any event, the next morning was Sunday, and as I’ve mentioned here before, I’d signed up for the Westport Minuteman 10K.  Moreover, I’d convinced Sally to sign up for the 5K race since her plantar fasciitis has been doing better recently.  So we packed up the kids and the car, headed to Westport’s Compo Beach, got all registered, planted the girls safely on the beach jungle gym, did yoga, and eventually lined up to race.  Sally’s race took off maybe ten minutes, and then so did mine.

I was tired both because of the work the day before and because I’d decided to work through the race rather than resting for it, but I nevertheless ran well.  I set a comfortable but aggressive pace, counting on form and a high cadence—both of which I work on relentlessly—to see me safely through to the end.  But I was concerned because running isn’t my best thing, and this race in particular has laid me low a couple of times.  But I successfully charged the hill at the half-way point, and then I felt more confident.  In fact, I crossed the midpoint at just a hair over 25-minutes, making me believe that if I worked the back end hard, I might just go under 50 overall!

In fact, I worked the rolling hills at the finish, and came in at 49:39, damned near a personal record.  Yay me. 

Sally, meanwhile, finished her 5K in 25-minutes or so.  That’s not a great time, but at least she ran without aggravating her injury.  That by itself was a big deal, believe me.  She stayed pain-free since then, too, so to be honest, I think I’m happier with her race than with mine.

Anyway, after that, Sunday was a lot like Saturday.  We went out to the dinner for breakfast, ordered a variety of omelets, toast, eggs, and pancakes between the four of us, and basically ate like kings.  Then we went home, and I ironed—for five hours!—cut the grass, put away clothes, and then drank some beer.  Sally cleaned the house.  While ironing, I watched the Angelina Jolie vehicle Salt, and then the kids and I watched back episodes of Voltron. 

Salt was okay.  I mean, I’m at best ambivalent about Ms. Jolie, and the movie’s plotting swung wildly between preposterous and predictable, but there were definitely parts of it that I liked.  I thought the second act was surprising, and that entertained me.  Still, I think I liked the “alien mice” episode of Voltron better than Salt, though the kids and I are jointly ready to see Prince Lotor finally capture the princess and dress her up like Lea from the third Star Wars movie.  Granted, I don’t think my daughters properly appreciate the things Lotor’s gonna do to Alura when he finally captures her and makes her his (love) slave, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is by far the series’ most dedicated, and therefore sympathetic, character.

Dinner that night was spaghetti and meatballs.  After that, it was my turn to put the kids to bed.  Then, once they were down, Sally and I started watching The Social Network (via Netflix), but we ended up going to bed at the halfway mark.  We ended up finishing it last night (Monday), and I’ve got to admit that I liked it a lot.  It makes me want to “friend” Mark Zuckerberg.  I might actually do that if I get some free time this week.

Anyway, that’s my life.  Exciting, no?

Tuesday Reviews: The Cupboard is Bare

So here it is Tuesday, and I don't have a thing to share with you.  I read a Batman OGN last week (Batman: The Black Case Files), but although I liked it, I didn't like it enough to go look up the art and artist and writer info and all the rest of that crap.  I also started reading Red Square (2nd sequel to Gorky Park), but I'm not too far into it yet.  So... there ain't a lot to talk about.  

That said, I did finally start writing for IRateFilms.Com this week.  I did my first review on Starblazers and decided in general to try to be their back-issues-of-TV guy.  Because, bottom line, that's what I seem to be watching.  I NEVER get out to the movies when they're new.  Anyway, when and if the IRateFilms guys get my review up, I'll let you know.  

In the meantime, well, go find a hobby.

Saturday News and Notes

Sally and I sat down and watched this week's Fringe and this week's V last night.  I gotta admit that I was a little disappointed in Fringe.  I mean, it wasn't a bad episode of anything, but they've been building this thing between Peter and Olivia for weeks, and then they did absolutely NOTHING with it.  Disappointing.  They could've at least hung a little teen-angst in the air.  And then, too, Fox had been promoting the big "shocker" ending all week, but folks, if that ending was anything, it was obvious.  Strictly paint-by-the-numbers.  Like I said, I was expecting better from a usually top-notch show.

For my money, V was a little better, but that's a show that needs to turn up the heat, time now, or they're gonna start losing audience.  And there were a couple of seriously groan-worthy spots, too.  I mean, look, the Visitors are supposed to be reptiles, right?  So why so Vulcan?  Some of the best scenes from the original were drawn straight out of the always entertaining Diana's sheer cattiness.  Come on!  Diva-ism almost always plays well in the cheap seats.  Eh.  They seem like they want the visitors to be both reptile and insect, and that strikes me as bad science.  And worse science fiction.

Also... what was up with the whole, "I'm not your real father" thing?  *GROAN*  If it turns out that Tyler is half-Visitor or something, I'll be out.  That's just idiotic.

This morning's TV was substantially better.  As I noted yesterday, Hannah and I made an explicit plan to sit down this morning and watch the first part of Starblazer: The Quest for Iscandar.  Heh.  She got up at 6: 30.  "Is it time yet?"

Me (Groggy): "Yes Hannah.  It's time."

Anyway, I didn't know how she was gonna like it.  First off, this is a girl who gets scared of the wicked octopus in The Little Mermaid, and she's already seen the freakin' Little Mermaid about 1,000 times.  And then, too, we live in the year 2010.  Quest for Iscandar came out in 1979, and I haven't seen it since it was on regular TV back before school in the mornings.  So, bottom line, I had no idea how it was gonna look to modern eyes.

Well, it was pretty good.  I mean, the picture wasn't spectacular--or anything that could reasonably be labeled spectacular--but it was passable.  Muddy but impressive.  The shots were well designed.  They got the very most they could out of their budget and tech.  And the story literally blows away anything that's on TV anymore.  Shit, I doubt the censors would even let such mature subject matter on TV these days.  I can just see some freakin' cartoon getting a TV MA rating because it's too damned "political."  Anyway, I knew Hannah was digging it when the Argo was trying to dodge the Gamalon Marauder Missile, and Hannah turned to me gritting her teeth and said, "Take off!  Daddy, they need to hurry up and take off!  Oh no!"

The good thing about Starblazers--at least for kids--is that the Sequel structure is rock solid.  Or, to put it another way, the characters are constantly recapping the situation in order to express their determination to press on no matter what the circumstances.  And that's good because 6-year-olds don't always follow and remember complex plot details.  So all those recaps really help.

For adults, I think Starblazers is most interesting as a study in post-War Japanese psychology.  The show plays out like a Bushido revenge fantasy, and make no mistake: we're the bad guys.  At the same time, there's a pervasive helplessness that shows up in almost every frame--at least in the initial episodes.  These guys seem to get that Japan was beset by an enemy it had no business fighting.  The Gamalons are literally larger than life, and the producers take the time, several times, to point out that Earth has "No defense" against the Gamalon technology and Gamma-bombing.  I found it fascinating all over again.

This afternoon, I went for a ride.  I finally had a good long time to just get on my bike and go.  Ended up heading out to ride the hills on Stratford's north side.  Very nice.  I figure I put in about 25 miles in a bit less than 90 minutes, which is okay considering that it was windy, and I stopped for maybe 10 minutes to stretch after warming up.  I feel good now, but I need a beer.  Fortunately, there's a little collection in the fridge.

And that's all I got.  I was gonna put up something political this afternoon, but I don't think I have time, and anyway, the news these days is so damned depressing that I spend most of my time avoiding it.  Starblazers and biking are both good for that.

That said, if you got something you'd like to see here, drop me a note in the Comments.  I mostly play it by ear, but I take criticism and advice reasonably well if it's constructive.  Which means leaving a solution or two to go with your problem or complaint.

I doubt I'll be back tomorrow, so have a good rest of the weekend.