Big Gingers

We were bred as Americans to think that the apple hitting us on the head moment is to come sitting at a bar stool.

Not to say there is anything wrong with drinking and ideation - only that's the fall back expectation as to what we think should be happening in order to have that great idea.

I dream of my big business idea happening at a bar.  There's something romantic about the idea of opening the "Who We Are" page on your company website with "It all started with a pen and a cocktail napkin and a Corona.."

Or, standing in front of a thousand people as a keynote speaker stating, "The trick is (enter regurgitated corporate quote).  Now, let's go get a beer - first round is on me."

My latest moment happened Saturday night.

I was at a friend's birthday party at The Local in downtown Minneapolis.  The nostalgic Irish pub serves three things, in no particular order, Guinness, Jameson Whiskey and Fish.

Fueled by two of the three, Freddy, Zim and I began talking about Zim's latest fixed gear bike quest (pic to come as soon as the back brake is uninstalled - in true manly bike fashion).

We had an epiphany for a bike business.*

As the beer fueled innovation escalated, the idea spiraled into a mega-business.  The course of discussion when like this.

John: I'm telling you, this is what we need to pull together.  People would pay for this.  We just need a shop to get this started

Freddy: What kind of shop?

John: A bike shop?  Aren't you following along.

Freddy: I don't get it.

Zim: Shut your face!

John: How does it not make any sense?  This is genius!

Zim: YYewwwEAh!

Freddy: Ok, you're right.  Can the place also be a bar?

John: I don't see why not.

Freddy: Can I bartend?

John: No.  Well....Okay.

Zim: What else can we add?

Freddy: How about a gym mat in the basement?  You can just prowl around down there and squelch at patrons.

Zim: YYewwwEAh!

John: We need a sign.

Freddy: Like a real one?

Zim: Why the hell not?!?!

John: Let's put a sign above the men's room.

Zim: What's it say?

John: "Zim's Gym"

Freddy: That would have to go above the women's room.

Zim: YYewwwEAh!

The conversation ended with arm wrestling.

There aren't many pearls in this post.  Only, I'll probably avoid liquor when I put together my business proposal.

*I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. 

Pre-Basted

We had our annual Thanksgiving dinner with the ISU crew in Minneapolis tonight.

Scott and Ryan hosted the dinner this year at their place. 24 people and enough wine and food for 40.

I think this is fifth year we've gotten people together. I got home and was thinking about last year's dinner.

Colle+McVoy was nice enough to give its employees gift certificates to a local meat market last year for a fresh turkey. On Saturday morning before the dinner, Aly and I took Otis to the dog park. From the dog park, we took a short detour home to pick up our bird.

We picked out a 25 pounder and got Otis butcher bone. We put Otis and the bone in the far back of the Jeep, the fresh bird in the back seat and started to make our way home.

Going 75 down the interstate, I peek into the mirror and notice Otis had crawled into the back seat. The last thing we needed was a vet visit for a dog with salmonella poisoning, so I hollered at him and told Aly to push him back into the far back.

Aly turns around and her face drops. Crap.

"What did he do? Did he eat part of the turkey? Aly, talk to me," my mouth is moving as fast as the car is moving. I'm trying to turn around and see behind me while keeping us on the road.

White hot heat hits my face.

Otis, in all his glory, had positioned the turkey between his front paws, aimed and vomited on top of a thirty dollar dinner.

With tears running down my face I swerved across lanes of traffic to the first exit. Threw the Jeep into park in a boat dealership while Aly and I ran, gagging, out of the car like it was filled with bees.

We ended up making it home and wiped the bird down. Seasoned the bad boy and cooked it for the group. Halfway through dinner, we made a toast. Thanking friends, good fortune and turkey pre-basted in dog vomit.

The Blizzard of Ahhs

Glen Plake's life work, see right.

If you were interested in skiing growing up in the mid-80's, this is the guy you wanted to be.

He was the reason I harassed my dad into taking me to Snowstar*, in Andalusia, IL.  One of my true childhood heroes.

The Ski and Snowboard Expo was going on last weekend in Minneapolis.  After hearing Glen would be there, I made the trek downtown.

I did a few laps indoors, thinking there would be stage, or a booth packed with people.  I was frustrated, standing and staring at crappy Rossignol snowboards (Rossignol, stick to skis).  I turn literally 180 degrees and I am face to face with Glen.

He's wearing his patented bowlers cap and sitting in the Elan booth chatting with another Elan rep.  There was not another person within 40 feet.

I couldn't figure it out.  In my head, here was an iconic American freeskiier.  Someone who literally had a hand in changing the sport of skiing.  But everyone seemed to be more concerned with discounted Marmot pants at the Hoigaard's booth.

There was even Sharpie markers, posters and a life size cut-out of Glen (with full neon green Mohawk), which I felt was, in itself, attention getting.  Or at least indicated importance.

A Dalbello rep walked up and asked me if I had any questions.  I told him I would take a product brochure for kicks (admitting, I've switched to snowboarding over the past ten years), but really wanted to meet Glen.

The Dalbello rep said, "You have to tap him on the shoulder and introduce yourself.  Otherwise, he doesn't know if people want to talk to him because no one really knows who he is."

Unreal.

I introduced myself and immediately started sweating like I was on a first date.  He asked where I was from.  I told him Iowa originally, by way of Breckenridge.

Off the top of his head, he started listing ski areas in Eastern Iowa/Western Illinois.  Sundown, Chestnut and a couple other areas that, if not for a teenage kid sitting behind a ticket counter, wouldn't be much more than the local sledding hill.

"If I had to live in Iowa, put me at Sundown Mountain," Glen said.

What he should have said was, "If I was forced to survive in Iowa, please, for the love of God, put me at Sundown ski area."

This is a guy who's skied parts of Chamonix Mont-Blanc in the French Alps that have been skied by only a handful of other people.  A place where skiers routinely DIE by falling off 1,000 foot cliffs and crevices.  I was sincerely impressed he could rattle off places that are better known for combines than world class skiing.

We chatted about Colorado, Reel Thrills and his upcoming trip to France.  Incredibly nice guy.

He signed a poster for me which states, "To John.  Ski you in Iowa!"

It's taped to my bedroom door.

I'm a ten year old wiener.

For other wieners who love ski and snowboard videos - get these in your NetFlix queue:

Maltese Flamingo, License to Thrill, Dr. Strangeglove, Sno What, Natural Born Skier and, my all-time favorite, Blizzard of Ahhs.

*Elevation 210 feet

Steep

The movie, Steep, is nothing short of spectacular.

The advancement of big mountain skiiing those who took it to the next level.

My childhood, and still, icon Glen Plake, is in the movie.

I actually met Glen last weekend at the Minneapolis Ski and Snowboard Expo - I've been meaning to post about this and will this weekend.

Think powder. This state is killing me.

X Prize

Think about the innovation happening digitally.  It outpaces itself.  The technology in your iPhone is already surpassed.  Apple vs. PC or a million basement developers push the envelope on what can/could be created.

How does this type of industry progression happen while others remain stagnant?

It's argued that this type of innovation doesn't take place in certain industries based on the maturity maturity of the market.  Why don't we blow the top of this?

X Prize, founded by Peter Diammandis, is not a new idea.  Peter looked around and said, "We can do better.  I believe we can do better and I will pay someone to show me better."

It exercises the idea that competition will fuel innovation.

Why doesn't the government employ this tactic to spur commercial evolution?  With the economic crisis and tanking industries, instead of hand-outs, what about incentives?

I feel that too often 90 percent of the thinking is done by 10 percent of the people.

If you follow the link above, you can read about a $10 million dollar X Prize for designing a viable, clean and uber-efficient automobile that the general public can afford and will buy.

What if we had $700 billion dollars to to stimulate industries and save the economy?

We do.  We've paid for it - let's make the most of it.

Need something that motivates brilliant, radical thinkers - not something that rewards failing business systems.

Let's employ everyone, not someone.

The Home

Is the penthouse in a retirement home on the ground level?

Pasta Carnage

It looked like someone gave a pack of pre-schoolers a 2 liter of Mountain Dew and turned them loose in the grocery aisle.

I returned home from work today to discover Otis had weaseled into our pantry where we keep the dry groceries.  Crushed lasagna, spaghetti, rigatoni noodles blanketed the entry way and kitchen.  For an extra kick, chewed potatoes sprinkled the hallway.

Dumbfounded, I went blank as Otis approached me in the hallway.  When he realized I wasn't bending down to pet him, instead bending down to pick up, what used to be, my running hat, his enthusiasm disappeared.

He slinked around the corner.  With the only sound being the side of his ass hitting the ground as he slipped on the piles of cardboard and food.

Animal interaction has to be one of the only forms of testament to your true temperament.  I'm convinced, on judgement day, there's no bells and whistles.  It's just Peter.  With a VCR.  Replaying highlights of every encounter you've ever had with a bird shitting on your suede jacket or a cat puking in your shoes.

Scolding an animal laying in the same position a cooked pig with an apple in its mouth - surrounded by food even - was something out of I Love Lucy.

I started in on exaggerated finger pointing and phony scowling.  Before I could finish explaining to him his list of faults, for good measure, he peed himself.

H.G. Wells

When I see an adult on a bicycle, I do not despair for the future of the human race. 

-H.G. Wells

H.G. Wells, a futuristic author, amongst other things, in the late 18th century. Coined the term time machine, and is credited with popularizing the idea of time travel.

His stories are still being adapted - the latest was the Steven Spielberg shot at War of the Worlds.  I actually haven't seen it, but I'm sure Tom Cruise is feels calm and collected at the heart of alien cross hairs.

Wells believed in socialism, wrote science fiction and married his cousin.  I'm sure his lunch money was not asked for, but taken.

Either way, still interesting guy.  Download his books for free at Wowio.

 

The Goat

Otis.

A freedom shitting death eagle.

He's earned the nickname "The Goat" because he will eat anything that's not himself.

Usually.

For the past two years, the garbage has been seen as a personal buffet and my socks have been crying out in horror.

After coming home from work this week to discover Otis had treated my tool box like a slow simmered pot roast (a sweat soaked hammer? really?), I decided his destruction needs to be documented.

This may be a list, this may be time to time posts, but either way I need to capture the destruction as it happens - because, everyone at work thinks I'm a liar.

Red or Blue?

The paradoxical question.

Every Jerry Bruckheimer film I've ever seen (regrettably, many) have the Red or Blue scene.  Hero poised over bomb, pliers in hand, perfectly beaded sweat and a decision to make.

Just once, I would love for a movie to end with Ben Affleck cutting the wrong wire.

 

The Varsity

Bomb-proof Schwinn Varsity

It's finished - my second fixie.  Deep V Velocity rims, profile bar ends and sawed down handle bar.  Wanted to keep as many original parts as possible.

Look for it on the streets of Minneapolis.