Oliver registered a domain name a few years back; the enviable iplaythehits.com and has graciously allowed Josh Duty and I to co-blog with him on it. I’ll be moving all of my music posts over there but I will probably put up little posts here reminding people to check it out every now and then. We’ll be adding new features and trying out new things as the weeks (my first few weeks in Brasil!) go on. Suggestions, as always, are welcome.
Did you know that the PM of the Ukraine is a superfox? Park steampunk, part Princess Leia, all woman. I love you, Yulia and I think you should leave the cold, heartless halls of Ukrainian power and wealth to live with me in a crappy apartment in Brasil. Or we could sail around the world together, making sweet love before you decide to eat me or have me killed.
I’m good with the plans. I’m passable with the executions but really really good with the plans. And, boy-o, do I have a new plan. A post Brasil plan.
Some of my favorite regulars from Firefly took me sailing on Saturday. I was so excited, I woke up at 6:30am and tossed and turned and worried that I might get seasick. I met Mark and Peter at Mark’s house in Noe Valley (very, very close to the Firefly) and we hopped right in the car and drove to South San Francisco to the Oyster Cove Marina where the boat is docked.
Before we go any further: how awesome do I look on a sailboat?
As we motored out towards the bay bridge I wrung my hands and worriedly paced (or the reasonable equivalent, on a smallish boat), having not taken Dramamine, terrified of falling overboard or some other less disastrous clumsy mishap when the fucking coast guard pulls up, port side, requesting to come aboard. It seems crazy that the coast guard can just pull up to you and hop on board but that’s what they do and Mark didn’t seem worried so I just hung out and chatted with them. Two of them got on board and two of them stayed in their little boat behind us.
Everything was fine, no one went to jail and we motored on passing under the bay bridge, waiting for the wind. And, as expected by the more seaworthy of us, just as we passed under the bay bridge, the wind picked up and with a flurry of activity sails were raised and we were at a 10 degree angle cruising along. I had no idea that sailing was so….fucking manly. It satisfies my desires of manhood. Not convinced?
Try that. I know you’re convinced now. So, when I’m ready (post Brasil, post sailboat buying, post practice) I sail out the golden gate and head south, land in Morro Bay, Long Beach, the Mexican Coast, Central America, through the Panama Canal. I’ll meet all my friends in Galveston and then sail the east coast. I’ll see how it feels.
This article is amazing. I’m going to be wearing moccasins soon. Or flip flops in Brasil. Havaianas!
In a 1997 study, researchers Steven Robbins and Edward Waked at McGill University in Montreal found that the more padding a running shoe has, the more force the runner hits the ground with: In effect, we instinctively plant our feet harder to cancel out the shock absorption of the padding. (The study found the same thing holds true when gymnasts land on soft mats—they actually land harder.) We do this, apparently, because we need to feel the ground in order to feel balanced. And barefoot, we can feel the ground—and we can naturally absorb the impact of each step with our bodies. “Whereas humans wearing shoes underestimate plantar loads,” the study concluded, “when barefoot they sense it precisely.”
