Tuesday, September 30, 2008


Gosh, I’m full of nothing but goodness, I’m like the promise of Obama but without all of the politics and I’m spending my free time training or doing Hello Kitty shrinky-dinks or doing something unrelated to saving the free world – I’ll raise a few blond girls to help do that. 

I should just write about 10,003 things because none are worthy of their own post but shouldn’t be left just festering.

I love pumpkin ale. 

Buffalo Bill’s Brewery is making the best right now.  I also love pretty much anything pumpkin – which is pronounced ‘punkin’ in our home.  It leads to the question ‘what about punkin?’.  It (punkin anything) should be part of every day. 

Spinach salads and Hybrids are basically just big lies people buy to make themselves feel better. 

Take one of those massive tubs of spinach you buy at the grocery store – the big one.  Put it in a big pan with a little water and turn on the heat.  Go ahead and look, it’s like 1.5 cups – maybe 2 cups of spinach.  I used to think that eating a spinach salad was all good - ‘check me out eating so sensibly’.  Dumb, it’s nothing – I’m going back to the sandwich.  I also see so many people driving hybrids to work each day - ALONE.  I wrote about this before, but like spinach salad, just compact it and carpool in your regular car that gets 23mpg because now you just made Toyota PRODUCE MORE using thousands of gallons of oil.   And where the heck does all that acid go in the batteries when you’re done with your car?  Carpool or ride a bike. Gosh.

bio_mitt_romney_1It’s election season.

Don’t think everyone is voting for Obama when you bust out with ‘McCain is such an idiot’ or something like that at work or at a dinner thing with people who aren’t sporting a ‘I LOVE Obama’ t-shirt.  You really shouldn’t talk about this stuff at work unless you’re also prepared to talk about whether or not Jesus is your personal Lord and Savior – it’s personal and not everyone agrees.  For instance, I’m friends with the son of Mitt Romney - Matt.  I even liked him (his dad not Matt) as a candidate – but when people who don’t know this and they start slamming on him at work, I want to punch them – kerpow.  But because I’m a compassionate conservative, I’m not going to.  He has the best hair of anyone running.  So much better than Biden’s Kentucky Waterfall!  Yes, I just made fun of his hair.  That’s about as low as I can go. 

The financial crisis.

Here’s a good article that provides some good background from HBS on how the mess go to be a mess.  In short, the fault belongs to a lot of people – not just CEOs, legislators but also to the fools who put 5% down on a house financing the rest with a 10% 2nd and bet everything on a 5 year ARM.  Saving rates are at an all time low for Americans – get back to the fundamentals and don’t bite off more than you can financially chew.  I still love Gordon Gekko.

I’m a swimmer.

I joined a master’s swim team today.  It’s the same one as Soda except I’ll be swimming at 1pm x 3 times a week starting 10/13.  I’ll even swim up in Seattle with my old coach who runs a program when I’m visiting Microsoft my new future employer.  Apparently Leanda Cave is in the same master’s program along with a few other well known age group ringers – so I’ll be busy.

Post-Season Almost Over.

I stopped racing and took 4 weeks off.  I carpool with my wife and come home and drink my French wine and color with the kids, though I really just watch.  I think the blisters on my feet are almost healed up – this means I can start running, swimming and biking a bit – but without computers attached and nothing more than to get out there.  I’ll probably start next week – but will get the official word from my coach tomorrow. 

Macca, Macca, Macca

Ok, I’m a fan but no, I haven’t made out with him and I’m sure we won’t, he’s not blond and Greta is so much cuter and oh yea, he’s a guy.  He’s fast and thankfully his agent Scott likes me and is not only responsible for getting back into the sport – but he keeps me well kitted.  This week in the mail he sent me Macca’s kit shown in the picture on the left.  I also have his helmet (shown left) and now all I need is the frame (working on it) before I’m sort of psycho.  I’ve got his wheels too.  I’ve also got some of Ben Collins’ shoes and Clif Recovery in the garage along with JP’s bike case, Ian’s power bar drink mix and Soda’s hat.  So if you’re left out, stop by and I’m sure I’ll have something of yours soon.


I’ve been married almost 11 years – my anniversary is Nov 29th!  Greta is the best and she’s a fox and she’s funny and smart and probably the best mom.  She also likes me.  It’s good. 

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Mine is not this big

Today I went for a sail, my first one ever. 

I hit the mighty seas with Ian and his crew of real sailboat racing folks.  Not a single ARRRGH was muttered so I wasn’t sure what to think – so I mostly sat and went from side to side of the boat and stayed out of the way. 

We went out to watch the Maltese Falcon arrive in San Francisco bay as well as throw down a little sailing action.  What I didn’t know about sailboats is that it’s not nearly as boring as what I’ve typically seen: uncle ned and aunt edna out for a Sunday sail in mild wind and low seas.  Once we got out underneath the Golden Gate Bridge it was about as chaotic as when I raced cars and you’re fighting 2+G force, cornering with 6 people around you hoping to basically not die.  I

It was pretty similar, except wetter and bumpier and wavier.  When the boat began to stand on its side I checked my shorts and footing.  Water splashing over the bow, people jumping all over, more ropes than a San Francisco S&M club and trying to take pictures without falling out of the boat.  I can only imagine what racing one of these boats is like. 

Hopefully they need a ‘picture taker guy’ one day.  I’ll do that or maybe something involving getting water and cups. 

Here are some shots from today and a video clip of the Falcon cruising by.  A great day with Ian, Sally, Ben, Henry, John, and Fabrizio.  I think I like this sport.

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Friday, September 26, 2008

Happy Birthday to Me

The older you get (I’m not as old as Ian but much older than Ben) the more I think you spending thinking around your birthday.  Life is perfect, I mean when someone asks ‘what do you want’ for your birthday and all you can think of is a few books and maybe some new clothing pieces – it’s not bad.  Despite the fact that Ian is significantly older than I am (he’s racing 40-44) he’s beating the snot out of cancer and I worry more about the apples congregating in my yard than I do about his cancer – that is good.  My family is healthy and all I can really complain about are my yet-to-be healed blisters.  Microsoft just gave me a new job as a Sr. Analyst that will enable me to work from our home 100% of the time.  This means more time with my family (except for the 1 minute commute downstairs) and being a good analyst and a few extra minutes to spending doing quality workouts and getting better recovery than I would in an office environment.  Greta just started a new job with a great commute on the TIburon/San Francisco ferry – 20 mins on the water and she walks 1 big block to her office.  The girls are doing great and are happier than ever.  Despite the fact that the economy is a mess, gas is over $4 and we’re at a war – I lie in bed at night and have to smile.  It’s all good. 

I haven’t exercised in weeks (3 I think) and will start again once my feet are all healed up and I’m ready.  I’ve been drinking some wonderful French and Californian wines, and spending the extra time: sleeping, sailing, reading, eating, being social and most importantly being with my family and friends!  Greta even mentions that she LIKES ME!  Hopefully the change of jobs and a good off season will make The Lorpeedo even more formidable in 2009. 




Tuesday, September 23, 2008

What Kids Do At School

Sada has been in kindergarten for a few weeks.  Little did I know she was pursuing a new career with a certain triathlete.

Monday, September 22, 2008

What Happens in Vegas…. ends up on my Blog

I was in Vegas and the names of people are different but the stories are pretty much real.

As I landed I got a call from the side of the pool at the Hard Rock Hotel where we’d be staying.  I heard ‘blah blah.. thong,… fake… bikini’.  Should be fun working this weekend, inside, not at the pool and with no Greta (which is pretty much very sad for me). 

I got to the hotel and had a killer view of the roof and of the construction that would be ongoing through the weekend – starting promptly each morning around 6am. 

The pool was about as accurate as it was advertised – fake and bikini could be used to describe 99% of what was there – except for the price of beer.  I indulged in a $13 beer which was a pint of beer that you can buy a 12-pack of for $13 anywhere else. 

We had to run over to the convention center for a bit and then back to the hotel to change into Vegas clothing – which to my dismay was not a triathlon t-shirt and shorts.  Blah blah blah….

Arrive at a cocktail party – free everything.  Everyone else noticed too.  I knew there would be good blog content soon.

I knew it would be pretty good when I am standing in the middle of a conversation where ‘Grace’ is face to face with some guy quizzing her on what foreign languages she knows.  Hebrew… no…. French… no.  Mandarin Chinese…. yes.  They start speaking in Chinese which sounded good to me except at a cocktail party you can barley hear what people are saying in English.  She apparently learned this while living in Beijing.  He walks away later – clearly not getting anywhere with Grace, he’s 5’9” and she’s 6’1”.  She turns to me and says “I don’t know Chinese”.  She was just saying things that sound like they could be Chinese.  Throw some silverware on the floor to hear about what that sounds like.

Apparently that party quenched some thirst because that’s when the weaving began.  One part of our group was weaving pretty badly as we entered another party across town.  I sort of kept her from falling off the path into the shrubbery.  Would have been funnier to let her go into the jungle but that wouldn’t have been friendly.  The party was sort of lame but the beer and cocktails were free and I saw a cake.  I was mostly anxious to get home – but there was more good blog content to come. 

About 8 of us caught a limo we had for the night back to the Hard Rock.  On the way back to the car I got the ‘I’m pretty drunk’ explainer from “Roger” which was followed by a pretty rough ‘all I had today was a piece of yogurt’.  Yup, a piece.  Sweet.  As we returned to the hotel and I see “Roger” sort of miss our right turn as he heads to the casino floor with a 1.5 liter bottle of vodka in his hand.  Swaying to the breeze. 

Between the right turn and Roger’s failure to signal, we lost ‘Nolan’ who meandered through the casino, past security and out to the pool.  Nolan then found himself a while later covered in the evening’s cocktails and dinner but not before he had already walked clear across the casino floor where he walks out of the Hard Rock Hotel, raises his right arm as if he were attending a Judas Priest concert and shouts to the security guys ‘I NEED A CAB TO THE HARD ROCK’.  They were nice and told him he was at the Hard Rock. 

There’s more but I’m tired. 

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

If I Wasn’t Training

I got these pictures from Rich “Money” Steele.  These are the views from a ride from Tiburon to Mt. Tam on whose roads Greg has taken up permanent residence.  When I am training, I usually never around and enjoy the view even if only for a few seconds, I just don’t.  I should but I don’t and probably won’t if I’m holding onto Greg’s wheel (which means I probably can’t see anyhow because my eyes are crossed and there isn’t enough blood for my brain to use my eyes).

Here’s the view from about 2/3 of the way up (I think because I don’t look around, but it looks about that far but based on the size of the trees, the color and shape of the clouds and angle of the sun, I can pretty much figure out anything because I’m analyst). 





Here are some of the ‘sisters’ at the top of Mt. Tam.  It’s a pretty open road with not much around.  If you pay attention to car commercials, you’ll see this road in a lot of them.  This is the road (and climb) that made me want to move to California.  In the wintertime there is usually a lot of fog and you can’t see more than a few yards ahead but it’s quiet and a good place to be on a Saturday morning.





Here is one of about 3,329 turns up the road to the top.  It’s pretty narrow and steep and you’ll see more bikes than cars and I think no matter what time of year it’s always the same temperature under the trees. 



Friday, September 12, 2008

What to Do….

Now that I’m done racing and I’m not training or doing anything remotely resembling the life of a triathlete (Ok, I wear sneakers with everything and find my Under Armour warm up coat ‘nicely dressed’).  I slept a lot this week, ate some ice cream, candy and have been working hard to finish 2 beers or glasses of wine.  I know I’ve got about 3-4 more weeks of ‘nothing’ before making an effort to slap on the spandex.

In the meantime I’m serving jury duty.  If you haven’t ever done it – you should and then you can decide if you ever want (whether by choice or not) to be tried by your peers.  I’m still not sure I would. 

Here’s the front row (I’m sitting at the front of the jury room looking at my peers):

  • early 30’s guy in black ‘thrasher’ hat – it says thrasher.  Bad rule follower, it says no hats, shorts or tank tops in the ‘what to wear to jury duty’ instructions.  UPDATE: he’s been unemployed for 2 months.  He told the judge that.  Maybe less Thrashing and more applying for jobs next time.  You’re not excused sir, says the judge.
  • 23 white haired guys, clearly retired, fairly new Rockport walking shoes or white sneakers (my dad wears Reeboks I think), this type of sneaker doesn’t have a sport assigned to it except Home Depot runs and lawn mowing on Saturdays.  They all talk the same speed and say the word ‘tough’ when describing things because they’re all sitting next to people telling them sad stories…. geeeze, that’s tough….  I think one guy has a dickey on. 
  • 23 white haired ladies, clearly the spouses of the fellows above.  The shirts denote a recent raid on Pennys (JC) or Chicos.  None would dare wear jeans unless they’re mom jeans though I don’t see any.  Shoes are comfortable.  All came to the courthouse in a Ford Taurus.  All brought their ‘Mrs. Claus-like’ rear ends and cankles.  I bet they can all make a mean apple cobbler or baked beans.  They smile the most. 


  • The AV club, these are all guys, early 40s who were probably in the high school AV club – all united by slightly longer hair, black t-shirt, an earing or two, laptop and a secret Foghat playlist on their iPods.  I’m sitting next to one, so I should be careful – I should tell him that the network is protected by a password here but he keeps trying the same thing using windows and all of the help and support files to figure it out.  If he had Vista, it would have told him this.  Upgrade!
  • Yoga lady.  She was humming, crossing her legs sitting ‘indian style’ and continues to stretch non-stop.  Her jeans have sparkles on the back pockets – not just a few, but a few hundred.  My girls would think they were cool.  She’s got on sandals but surprisingly no toe rings or anything with little bells.  She’s not married and so long as she keeps that humming up – she won’t ever be.  She’s in the entertainment industry and that’s what she told the judge.
  • Me: since I can’t wear shorts (savages!) I’m wearing jeans which freaked Soda out when she saw me dropping Sada off this morning.  They said to dress comfortable, so I’ve got on a Brooks long sleeve technical shirt, a lightweight navy North Face fleece pull over, a pair of Cole Haan “Tiburon (that’s the real model name) driving mocs and a pair of Oakleys still on my head.  Fuel Belt transition backpack next to me.  So handsome.  So fetching. 

Here’s the pant count for the front row:

4 pair of black jeans (yes, people are wearing these), 8 pair of blue jeans – 1 with sparkle pockets, 3 pair of khakis, 4 pair of black pants but one has autumn leaves on them, 1 black skirt and 1 pair of maroon cords.  Hey – my friend TJ is sitting about 5 people away from me.  Bad time to yell hi.

There you go.  I’m hoping to get out of this and will proclaim to be completely biased against whatever race the defendant is. 

UPDATE: before we even got started, this guy wanted to know if he could sue the court and attorneys because he wasn’t getting paid as much as the attorneys to do essentially the same thing and that San Quentin inmates make more money than he will serving on the jury.  The judge asked if he knew what the pay was and he said no.  Mr. short ponytail 0, Court 1. 

UPDATE 2: he then wanted to know if because he was prejudiced against Home Depot (the defendant) and that there was no constitutional precedent for this type of case and that it didn’t matter because the court would give the plaintiff tens of millions of dollars.  Mr. Short Ponytail 0, Court 2.  Lady with the sparkle pockets gave him a hug- it was gross.  Love fest, boooo. Obviously still sore about the stolen 2000 election.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Please HELP

Now that the season is over, it’s time for some posts with some real meaning.  I’m not sure what to say about the video below other than these folks need some help or perhaps they’re fine where they are in the woods, far, far, far away from my family. 

I can see crying for a bent Dura Ace rear derailleur, a bent seat, a corked bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, or a cracked carbon frame but this is pretty much out of hand. And unsettling.  Union Members freak me out the same way.  So there.

Hug your children and your cats. 

Thank you. 

Monday, September 8, 2008

Curse of the Big Kahuna (Triathlon)

I was going to do it, I wasn’t and then I did.  I was able to back off my training enough between Timberman 70.3 and Big Kahuna Half Ironman in the past 3 weeks to leave a little something in the tank.  Unfortunately between the co-workers who brought their colds to work or Greta who got it from hers – I became the next victim.  We got down to Santa Cruz where Ian, JP and I crashed at JP’s in-laws’ beach house, about 2 miles from the race start.  The weather was perfect – but I was feeling bad. 

I figured with some hot salsa I would feel better. 

I didn’t.

I went to bed and layed there and drifted – nap like – a bit but not really any sleep.  It was a long night and for once, 4:20am was fine with me for a wake up. 

I drank coffee, instant, ick. 

Went through all of my pre-race rituals and thought I could use positive mental power to make my increasingly stuffy and worsening headache go away.  It did, sort of. 

I got set up in the good racks – the kind that hold your back wheel.  This was good and I had done everything I could to prepare.  We got suited up and headed for the ocean. 

The water was flat and cool (I love 60 degree ocean swims!).  The race started and for once – it was good.  I didn’t get thumped, I swam in the same direction I thought I was which is pretty good because it was a LONG LONG swim way out into the ocean where I  know there are sharks and sea lions and seals.  My goal was to swim solid, straight and panic as little as possible.  I only sighted once (swimming next to the Santa Cruz pier for about .5 miles makes it easy) and when I peeked for the bouy it was about 20 yards away – I turned and headed home.  There were some swells – but it was worse going back in than heading out.  I just swam and got freaked out by the occasional shark, no, not a shark, it was seaweed but it looked like a shark at first.  I got close to the shore and swam through what felt like a bowl full of seaweed.  But I swam and didn’t get dragged under by a shark (which I wondered about and hoped that if I did get bit, he’d grab me after I got a breath of air and not after I exhaled). 

I got out and looked at my watch.  Blank.  It was dead. 

I ran the .3 miles to the transition.  Dropped my goggles, shoved one guy cause he was running all slow and like a baby.  Dumped a cup of water on my head cause I thought it would be something to do. 

My stomach didn’t feel good. 

I hollered at 2 girls doing the relay who were standing in front of my bike just chatting. 

and THEN I SAW IT!  Ian’s bike.  He was in the wave behind me and I knew he’d get 5 mins on me if I swam my ‘average’.  So that meant I didn’t give up 5 mins to a guy who can put 5 mins into me while he’s sleeping.  YEAHOOEY.  Since I don’t have a watch, I don’t know what I swam.  But it was less than 5 mins from Ian’s swim time.

I got my bike, not with the near blistering speed I normally use, but I still got out ok.  My coach always says to get strapped and settle in for the bike and not to go like crazy at the start – take a few miles drink water, eat and then get ready to throw down. 

I forgot to throw down cause I threw up.  Ick.  It was pink and went all over my arm.  It was foamy. 

That was 21 mins into the bike. 

I rode and remembered that Ian said he rode 22.5mph last year.  The course was rolling – the entire thing was up and down and up.  Mostly stuff that was 2-5% grade and nothing you had to get out of the big ring for.  See below – I’m not lying. 














So the entire way out I’m trying to drink or sip and eat but it’s not working.  It’s not staying in.  There’s still pink foamy stuff on my arm at mile 36.

Since I ‘enjoy’ the swim – I tend to ride faster than a lot of people for the first half of each race.  This allows me to pass lots of people.  I usually say something to the people who are drafting.  Some guys are so blatant that I usually go after them.  I slowed next to one guy and said he should just ride up the guy’s keister in front of him and he looked at me all stupid-I-cheat-at-sports-and-I’m-wearing-a-headband-under-my-aero-helmet-like.  Jerk.  Then I ride on, since I’m fast and spewing pink stuff. 

I then had another shadow creep up behind me.  It just stopped and I knew there was a guy sitting on my wheel.  I then blow my nose a lot and spit more pink stuff and the shadow goes away. 

Then 2 guys pass me.  Nose to tail.  I said something really not nice.  The guy with his nose in the guy’s tail said to mind my own business.  It then took me 30 more miles to drop them both hard. The whole time I’m thinking of Ian’s 22.5mph avg.  I was pushing like 20.5mph.  It turns out he didn’t have the wicked headwind (it was about a 10 O’clock headwind).  I hit the turn around – having no food or water in my stomach at 1:19.  I could ride hard and then I could feel my stomach get into my throat and I’d have to slow down.  Then I saw Ian. 

He was about 4 mins behind me or so which for me is like getting chicked because after all he is fighting cancer and the bike is what I do. Food or no food, it was go time cause I’d never ever ever ever hear the end of it.  Generations of my family would have heard about it (through generations of Ian’s family of course).

I threw down. 


I rode like a scared little squirrel.  I negative split the bike by almost 8 minutes (out in 1:19+ and back in 1:12).  Bike time was around 2:31-2:32.  No official times yet. 

I grabbed a bottle of water figuring I could get some plain water down.  One sip, it was lemon Heed.  Ick.  I threw it back so fast that I scared the hell out of the water handing out people.  Sorry. 

It was about mile 45 when it got really sunny.  (I forgot to mention the fog cause from about mile 10 to mile 45 it was foggy.  Sometimes, it was so foggy that you could see about 20 yards ahead in places.  I also got honked at by a redneck in a jacked up truck when I rode in the traffic lane so I wouldn’t draft people I was passing.)

I decided about that time (when the sun came out) that I was done.  I hadn’t got any water in (I still had 2 full water bottles on my bike and a full load of GUs) and no food and 13.1 miles of running in the heat and not feeling good and knowing I had life to live after the race meant I was going to drop out. 

I did go through T2 and walked out onto the run course to cheer on Ian and JP and take some more ibuprofen. 

THE NICE ENDING: I felt like a big loser but not finishing the race doesn’t define me.  Finishing Timberman 70.3 with Sada next to me and seeing Ian finish two half ironman races while fighting cancer was enough to remind me that racing is only a part of life. 

THE LORPEEDO ENDING: I felt like a loser.  But I still had a good swim and even without food or water I still crushed a ton of people and drafters.  I’ll be at the start line at Oceanside 70.3.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Zoot: Ultra M Race Shoe (aka How Awesome is That?)

MenAs some may know I’ve got a sponsorship with Zoot and GU as part of the Zoot/GU triathlon team.  They give me some stuff but it’s mostly discounted product and some nice connections.  For the 2008 season I had planned to race in these cool new tri-specific Zoot racing flats.  They promised a bunch and delivered on it.  For me at the end of the season the shoe has delivered on it’s marketing and Zoot has earned a customer beyond any sponsorships.

I raced, trained and reviewed this shoe before( reviews: One, Two and Three).  At Oceanside 70.3 the shoe worked well – but my feet both blistered (I wore socks) and it hurt.  I still stand by my recommendation that the Ultra M is a great shoe for those under the 175lb mark and as I learn now – but not necessarily for bad pronators (think of your foot basically twisting left to right with each step) – a group of which I’m a card carrying member.  I’ve tried the two pair of Brooks racing flats – because their lasts (uppers) fit me well, but the soles were either too flimsy (the T5) or bio-mechanically (post 56 mile TT) incompatible with my feet (resulting in blistering and bruising on the balls of my feet). 

So now, despite my early experience with the blistering at Oceanside I’m going to race in the Big Kahuna Half Ironman on Sunday (Sept 7th) in something similar but different. 

DSC02237Once I sent photos of the broken and cracked carbon bridge – Zoot was concerned and even sent my issue and photo to one of their product managers who just happened to be at the factory.  They quickly figured that the damage to the shoe was likely a result of my pronation which in less than 100 miles ruined the shoe and likely contributed to the blistering. 

They’re shipping me a new pair of their M Ultra Tempo+ shoes designed for runners who need some light stability – so I’ll be giving those a maiden voyage in the race.  All I have to do is send back my old ones so they can better understand the issue. 

The response from Zoot was fast and unexpected – I just wanted them to be aware of an issue and they go above and beyond (again) to make this a positive experience that I end up blogging about. 


See you after the race on Sunday!

Monday, September 1, 2008

Tiburon, California 94920

We moved to this small San Francisco suburb in March of 2007.  Greta saw it and wouldn’t even consider living anywhere else.  We’ve met some great people and have made a lot of really good friends.  The running, riding and swimming here can’t be matched anywhere I’ve ever lived (ok, Boulder wasn’t bad – but it gets cold there).  Yesterday we went to the 2008 Belvedere-Tiburon Labor Day Parade.  The Labor Day parade in a small town is a great way to get a better understanding for the character of the town.  This was no exception. We got to watch the parade with Rich Steele and his family.  Rich takes great pride in finding and wearing $4.99 sunglasses.  Every single person and float and vehicle would whip a handful of candy and mardi-gras beads at you.  Most of the kids looked like they had spent most of their summer flashing for beads by the time it was over (about 9.3 minutes).

It started off pretty harmless…

And quickly escalates into a vulgar display of pimped-out toy cars which I’m sure were purchased just for the occasion.  Luckily this Escalade is a full electric vehicle – which makes us all feel better.  Great training for this future Tiburon Trophy Wife.


And what’s a parade without Tom Lep’s jazz band! 

There’s the band but I didn’t get a picture of Tom. 


An old fire truck.  Because Labor Day means BBQ and BBQ means fire and fire means…. 

…the hottest fire chief.  I didn’t really understand this but anytime you can put a blond on the back of a convertible and drive around calling her a fire chief – go right ahead, many adult films have been made with this level of character and plot development.  

My most favorite-est ride/float/vehicle was the ‘Let’s Go Green’ flatbed truck – which if you look not even closely has the massive exhaust pipe right about at the level where the kids were sitting and standing.  At least it had a salmon mounted on it – that has to count for something.  Sorry about the lung cancer kids.  Luckily Tiburon has a high population of attorneys.

Why ride a horse or bike when there’s a perfectly good group of folks who own Segways.  At $5,000 a pop, Segways are a viable alternative to the average cost of a full carbon Dura Ace road bike – so it makes sense.  I even see a kid going to school each day on one of these.  My Huffy was $80 and I could have rode that baby the 4 miles to school if it weren’t for the snow and below 0 degrees temps in winter. 

And of course the local politicians….  Here is the Tiburon Council MeMMber.  We looked closely at the MeMMber and noted that she might be the original owner of this car! 

The greater Tiburon Segway riding community.  It’s basically the biggest nerd herd you’ll see in one place.

Go Nana.  Spel chek nexte tyme pleese.

Rich ‘I’m so money’ Steele.  He can climb like the wind – so don’t let the shades fool you.  His wife is a fox but she must not know about his racy red mistress… a sexy red BMC.

An old truck with 2 people – whoooo hoooo.  Throw us some candy!


All of the Rotary members in one car. 


The shaggin’ wagon.  An updated version of Lloyd and Harry’s car from Dumb and Dumber.

I don’t really  know what this group was but I should consider this look at my next race. I’m sure I’d swim faster with the float and the shark hat.  I’d leave the bubbles in T1 though.



We believe this lady from Mill Valley infiltrated the parade.  She didn’t throw candy or beads.  BOOOOOOO.  I’m going to spray just to spite her.  She could have at least dressed as a giant moth or bug or spray can – something memorable to give the message some punch.

The Tib-Bel Brownies.  They threw beads.  And candy.  Back in the day Brownies used to wear uniforms –what’s with the ‘causual’ Brownie look ladies?  Some may one day join the military and figure they can wear jeans, a new shirt from the Gap and sling a rifle over their shoulder.  GET YOUR UNIFORM ON SOLDIERS!

The next few pictures cover the city government here.  As you can see, they pretty much represent Tiburon perfectly.  The Mayor of Belvedere.

And yes, there is a Vice Mayor, driving his own car.  Of course it’s a  2008 Lamborghini Murcielago LP640 getting a sweet 8 mpg.  No candy. No beads.  booo.  There are no speed bumps in Tiburon btw.  They’d totally wreck the vice mayors car.

The Belvedere Sailing Society – they’re costumed as dangerous pirates.

Yes, this too is a dangerous pirate marauding the streets in his 2006 Rascal 500T.  He did throw us some beads but it took about 12 minutes for him to do it and he just about wiped out.  Nice job though. Too bad he didn’t go for the side mounted cannon option.

You though Hanson had Mmmm’ Bopped into obscurity?  No way – they moved to Tiburon where they now play between piles of hay and only on Labor Day.

They Mayor of Tiburon.  I’d guess that based on their cars that the Vice Mayor might be skimming a little off the tax base.

We’re not sure what this vehicle and man were doing in the parade except to wear a top hat and drive this Rolls Royce around town.  He didn’t throw beads or candy.  Booo.  “Look at me and my tall hat and my killer old Rolls and how I’m not throwing anything to your kids”

I’ve never seen a parade where the town historian gets a car – but this isn’t your run of the mill parade. 

No sure if you can see the faces – but these children are the saddest faces I’ve seen selling ‘Love’ and ‘Joy’.  The kid in the middle isn’t even holding up his sign for crying out loud.  None of these kids have a future on Madison Ave or at Disney.  If I’m selling ‘sad’ I know who to call. 

A little sugar from Miss California.  I’m pretty sure she’s really Miss Pre-Teen California and that she can do a wicked interpretive jazz dance to Michael Sembello’s 1983 hit ‘Manic’ (from Flashdance of course).  She didn’t throw beads or candy just cheap kisses.  Booo Miss California!


Our kids sitting eagerly awaiting the parade.  The kids would sit – run out in the street to get the candy, put it in a pile and wait for more.  When the kids would get up – Piper would grab their candy and sit down.  Not bad for 3 but we had to tell her that’s not right.  Just get daddy one more of those red twizzler thingies….


The Police Captain.  This car is ONLY used in parades since Tiburon has a fleet of modern Dodge Charges nailing speeders and unsuspecting out of towners.