Code And Cocktails

Bemoaning My Inexpertly Done Bicycle Repair; Also My Failure to Call Before Walking to the Nearby Bike Shop That Is Closed.

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I fixed my rear flat tire last night on the blue BSA. Been a while
since i repaired a rear tire without quick release skewers and first
time doing it with a coaster brake. Took it for a spin and things
seemed good - even seemed to have improved the gear situation.

Part way to work however the gears started doing funny things and then
i realized it was a LOT tougher to pedal. Turns out the wheel seems
to have slipped a bit in the dropouts so now instead of being nicely
straight: |, it is at an angle: /. I don't think the wheel itself is
way out of true - it is just not sitting right.

Revolution Bikes should have been the nearest place for me to go -
near South Station. Took a walk there dragging the bike along... to
find it closed. Called and got no answer. I wish i had called

So after work i'll walk a bit further to Community Bicycle on Tremont
St. in hopes they will do the quick repair needed so i can get the
bike home.

Also hopefully tomorrow Harris will in fact have fixed the Black
Schwinn so i can put aside the Blue BSA until i can get it repaired

Thinking About How the Click-click-click Noise of a 3-speed Hub Is a Happy Noise(tm) for Me.

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Been riding the blue BSA (Birmingham Small Arms Co.) 3-speed a bit
lately (even though it has decided that 2nd gear may disappear into
neutral every-so-often, especially when in traffic! (but i tried the
adjustment the helpful mechanic at Harris Cyclery suggested and it
worked a bit, so I'll have to try it more carefully. I can probably
get it working from the rest of the season and then bring it into the
shop for a hub overhaul during the winter)). The click-click-click
noise of the hub makes me smile; it cheers me up.

Maybe I'm remembering being a little kid riding my first non-training
wheeled bike with my mother. She'd be on her gold Columbia, basket in
front and baskets on back, doing errands and I'd be pedaling along
with her. We'd go across town to Aunt Alice (a vague relation of mine
who was termed 'aunt'. My mother did grocery shopping for her, and
when she finally passed on at 104 my mother was the executrix of her
will. Thank you again Aunt Alice for leaving me the bookcase full of
books (romance novels from the 1920's) and the oriental rugs. Her
house was a cute little mansard-roofed 3 bedroom house just a little
way from the center of Franklin, she always had Canadian mints in a
bowl in the living room which she would offer me when we came over...)
or we'd go uptown to the bank (where i had an account from before i
can remember, i was always known as "Sofie's Son").

The click-click-click as i sit up, coasting along, looking at the
trees, the ducks, the geese, the river, the joggers, the loungers, the
other cyclists - this is a happy thing.

Can't wait for the black Schwinn to be back from the shop (it was
almost fixed but before i took it home the hub showed its true colors
and would not shift well - so it is getting overhauled not just
adjusted. Sturmey-Archer hubs are generally considered worth it. In
theory if it is fix-able it will outlive me).

My Trip to Warren Anatomical Museum

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It was not very easy to find - but that was primarily because I didn't
have a map so I just wandered around the Longwood area on my bicycle
until I finally stumbled upon Shattuck St. Then I finally realized
that the building at the very end of the street is what I wanted. The
Countway Library.

On the fifth floor is the museum. Very small; just a few display
cases; but the displays were fascinating in a morbid sort of way.
There were old anatomical models - which were really dried body
parts. The veins had been injected with wax so that they would be
visible. A note said that the doctor would dry these body parts on
his bedroom windowsill. Must have been quite the conversation piece
when he brought the ladies over :).

There were nasty implements of old medical science - huge forceps for
extracting babies, quite LARGE items which the notes claimed where put
in through the urethra. But making up for those scary items were the
gorgeous surgery kits; ivory handles on green felt.

I finally know just what it looks like when someone has Rickets (you
definitely don't want it). The co-joined twins skeleton was
fascinating - it looked like it must have been fake (one _hopes_ it
was fake but it wasn't).

Very interesting was the items about Phineas Gage. The actual tamping
rod that had gone clear through his skull was sitting there in the

Luckily I was blissfully unaware of the 'No Photography' signs until I
had taken the pictures I wanted.

(My pictures are at flickr:

Bug Fix Weekend(tm): When the Uberboss Asks for Volunteers It Is Hard to Say No.

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I think the idea of this Bug Fix Weekend is plenty broken. I'd like
to think that the large bug count which prompted my uberboss to call
for this monstrosity and ask for 'volunteers' is largely not of _my_

But yet, here i am. *sigh*

At least it is a miserable rainy Saturday - so i won't feel like i'm
missing a good day.

I hope other team members learn from this - this is a punishment
because we are not doing our job. We are calling stories 'done' when
they clearly aren't, we are allowing regression tests to break and not
be fixed, we are focusing on doing more stories than fixing bugs that
QA report.

We have no one to blame but ourselves.

Time to roll up the sleeves and dig in.

Note to Bicyclists From a Bicyclist: You Are a Vehicle With the Same Rights _and_ Repsonsibilities

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Friends, Bostonians/Cantabridgians, Bicyclists - lend me your ears!

You are a vehicle. You have the same rights and responsibilities as
other vehicles on the roadways.

Please follow the laws, let's start small - pick a traffic law and
stick with it. Just one. Like maybe not riding the wrong way on the
street. Or maybe stopping at red lights. Signaling your turns?
That's an easy one - you don't even need to stop!

Oh, and would you all please not ride so close to parked cars - you
are making me worried. I keep fearing I'm going to see a dooring
right in front of me.