Day 15, a quick note

I am eating my first real breakfast of the trip here in Marion, KY (not to be confused with Marion, Il). To come: three pieces of French toast with pecans, two sunny eggs, biscuits and gravy, bacon, and some sweet tea to wash it all down.

I am making such great time that I might go check out the Clement Mineral Museum. "It's so good it should be in Chicago," says our hostess. A gentleman has informed me that Marion was once the florspar capital of the world. In the 50s there were 3 car dealerships in town and they had everything imaginable. Now, it is small but still pleasant.

Anyhow, here's why I've called this meeting. It's to talk about bike talk. I mentioned that I was sick of hearing about it yesterday, but it has occurred to me that I haven't done a good deal of describing it. To aid me in this end, let's use the power of cowboy metaphor.

"That is an amazing horse."

"Thank you. It's a brown one with handprints. Yours is equally amazing too."

"Thank you. Mine's a black beauty that was once wild, but I've tamed her and added some things like lights."

"Clever. I am in love with your horse."

"I love your horse's ass."

"See I prefer your horses ass. Hey now, your horse has a penis."

"You noticed. I find it convenient."

"You weren't concerned with weight? I had my horse's penis removed at a horse shop earlier. We were dragging along."

"What a novel idea. Maybe I'll get mine fixed in Carbondale..."


And on and on. Yes, we are all on bikes; but can we please talk about something else. Sports? Did you ever see the ass on Lance Armstrong? Me, I prefer Tara Lipinski...