I got on my bike for the first time this summer yesterday. I didn't want to get too carried away since it had indeed been awhile. I wasn't out to set any land speed records, just wanted to get a little exercise. The rest of the weekend felt a little sedentiary by comparison. I have no idea how far I go, never checked.

Given the lack of Sunday traffic in the city of Buffalo, I headed out down Delaware Ave, headed downtown. Now, I'm not one for the cycling regalia. I do wear a helmet, which makes me look like the Great Gazoo, but a regular t shirt and shorts serves me just fine.

I mention that because not everybody should try to dress like Lance. They don't give you a yellow jersey for making good time around the Aud wreckage. Doesn't stop a few folks for attempting the look. Like I said, I get out once in a while for fun and in the case of yesterday, getting my nerve back in the crazy lanes.

I figure a man of my proportions (6′2, 240) should probably know his limitations and I think I do when it comes to fashion choices. Apparently, I might be an island in that particular ocean. After making a turn around Exchange St, and working my way back up Washington, I spotted a similar proportioned individual who was geared up. All he was missing was corporate sponsorship and the good sense not to stuff the belly into the spiderman bike top. Looked like Peter Parker let himself go a little.

Not that I'm a matinee idol, but I think my loose fitting Springsteen t-shirt made me look a little more palatable. Something to be said for not looking like licorice toothpaste ready to escape the tube.

Made me laugh to see somebody so concerned with accessorizing that he's behind a little in the exercising department. It's always nice to get a sign that you are on the right path. It's that those signs are sometimes not always what you might think.

Thanks to (e:Vincent) for organzing the Bisons/BPO game this evening, I was looking forward to it thinking number one son and I could go, see the game, hear the music and enjoy some fireworks. I know costume characters still freak him at age 11, but I figured it was innocuous enough where the seats were that we could have some fun.

He showed up at my door upset and in near tears at the thought of having to go. I want to do stuff other than hang around my apartment and it almost looked like we had a decent night for doing it, but he finally told me that he "doesn't like it and doesn't want to go."

I know the Bisons are bad, but geesh. I'm okay with him not wanting to go if he doesn't enjoy it. He doesn't have to like everything I like. I guess that would be cause for worry if he did. He is becoming an individual and I think I need to give him some space to find his voice. What kind of Dad would I be to shove him into something just because I find some moments of peace at the ballpark. The price of the tickets was a hard thing to swallow. The threat of rain today succeeded in making the game scalper proof. So, it's only money. I know ultimately he and I are cool, I guess I thought I had something another avenue of shared experience, something that is ours. He's asleep in the other room as I write this. His sisters are a challenge and I think he looks at my place in kind of a sanctuary sort of way. With the ages the kids are, things a little more specialized. With one pretty much an adult, and another at that fractious age of 14, the days of universal experience are pretty much over.

And I'm used to that. Quality time has always been more important than quantity. I'd rather laugh around a dinner table periodically than cram them all into a space where they would be resenting it.

I guess I'm feeling the side effects of building something up too high in my own mind. We hit the movies pretty regularly, but I was anxious for some guy time, fresh air, a pretzel, watching grown men try way too hard to catch a foul ball. To know that he didn't want to hurt. I told him that he needs to tell me before I go off and buy tickets for stuff, because once we buy, we're committed. He apologized and we did pig out of some of Just Pizza's finest and I took a nice nap after that, but something felt a little empty.

I was looking forward to it. I love my job but events there necessitated that I work late while my dad stepped in to take him to the recent "Walking with Dinosaurs" show. That made me real depressed while I worked my event. I don't get a chance to show off that often and I guess it feels like one slipped away again.

Only a game.

The loft apartment over a great party gets older today and she doesn't look a day over 141

Not from last weekend when the weather blew, the one before where we got a summer preview. Number one son and I went to the marina, got the now obligatory Aud deconstruction pic, and ate overpriced ice cream product and took these.

It's been a busy run of events at work. Yesterday was our Earth Day celebration. This gets celebrated in June to avoid the questionable April weather, you know, back when it was sunny. I found it ironic that on Earth Day, I basically got to stand in a monsoon for a large portion of the day. Tends to color your disposition. It is also not one of my better looks. The rain did work in our favor a little bit. One of the extremists groups who shall not be named was all set to picket my workplace to protest the keeping of the elephants. So, things were a little more tense then needbe. But the day went off without a hitch.

I got a neat bon mot on Friday. I got a new, larger office. My previous one was a room fashioned by a large, false wall out of a larger room. That meant I was dependent on air from the two doors and I think played a large part in getting me sick last summer. Now, I got a bigger space across the hall, with windows and Delaware Park view. It feels imminently more civilized.





It's comparitively swanky compared to my closet setting. The pictures aren't great but you get the idea.

My daughters made fudge ribbon cake for me for today so I think I'm passing on lunch.

Happy Dad's day to all the dads out there, especially to mine as he left Roswell this week with the phrase "Cured" stamped in his file.

Score one for the good guys