I've been looking for a new way to work.

And not in some dreamy MBA buzzword sense where I say "new way to work," but I mean "new way to manage spreadsheets."

I mean literally. I've been looking for a new way to work. From West View.

I try to commute to work by bicycle every day, and since my wife and I moved here last summer, I've realized there are limited options for biking to and from downtown Pittsburgh.

The ride from West View is about eight miles if you take Perrysville Ave., and after the initial climb to Cemetery Ln., it's mostly downhill to Allegheny Center.

Still following the story about Russell Laing, the guy who supposedly stored a 150-gun arsenal in his McCandless apartment and then threatened cops terroristically. The local magistrate postponed the hearing last week. It's now scheduled for May 19.

Someone who said he was a friend of Mr. Laing wrote an e-mail a few weeks back to say that Mr. Laing was an antique gun collector, not a maniac with intention to terrorize. This is interesting, but what about the police report that says Laing engaged in a five-hour standoff with law enforcement after they attempted to enter his home?

New work up at Philadelphia City Paper about the contentious history of Philadelphia's last remaining Anarchist newspaper.

The elimination of Books Behind Bars programs pisses me off over at True/Slant.

Patti Wood tells the Post-Gazette about some embarassing wardrobe malfunctions.

Little Kid, Life Sentence

Pennsylvania has more juvenile lifers than any other state in the union. Stacey Torrance knows. He's been in jail since he was 14.

via citypaper.net

I keep getting these text messages from Bill McNelis that recall very specific, oddly interesting and sometimes inane moments from last year's bicycle trek across the country. Messages like:

"One year ago today, a triangle saves us, teddy bears for us both."

I've begun blogging over at True/Slant because it's an interesting idea (a kind of steroidal version of both blogs and Web forums) and because it promises compensation. Yesterday's post was about the odd tendency to blame opinionated talking heads for society's ills:

Here's a piece on Father C. William Hausen -- an excommunicated priest of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Pittsburgh:

"Hausen felt Catholic leaders needed to stop closing churches -- and start opening their eyes. Many of the problems the church faced, he thought, stemmed from its adherence to teachings that were increasingly out of step with how people lived: prohibitions on birth control, a ban against female priests, required celibacy for ordained males. Until the church abandoned centuries-old tenets, he thought, more churches would close."

Via Pittsburgh City Paper

One more Election Day thought:

The Obama campaign is all over the place today, and particularly in Squirrel Hill, where you can't go farther than a block without someone with big, hopeful, expectant, university-educated, white liberal eyes, asking if you're registered to vote. So keep that in mind -- a picture of two Earth-crunchy moms, former hippies, wearing Timberlands and tucked-in Obama "Hope" t-shirts, sitting at a table on a sidewalk -- while you imagine this scene:

Procrastinating. Expecting interviews. Expecting calls back. Expecting responses from editors, answers to job queries. Amazing how interesting the presidential debate seems now as I lie in wait.

I've got a few things running in various Pittsburgh publications this week. Nothing huge or ground-breaking, but perhaps of interest if you're in the city and looking for local issues to think about during dinner conversation or whatever:

For a story, I'm researching a current movement of Ecumenical Catholics, and getting into esoterica re: 1) what makes Catholicism Catholicism, 2) how splinter groups have served to highlight inconsistencies in The Faith, and 3) reasons why Catholicism is still, by far, the most popular religion in the United States.

For those unfamiliar, Ecumenical Catholic Churches are based around the same tenets as Catholicism, but with changes made to embrace more liberal practices (like homosexuality and abortion) and to denounce stringent hierarchical structures (like the papacy).

As Bill said, keep an eye out for future posts from him concerning what he's doing now, and what this bike trip has meant to him -- as a man, as a human, as an athlete. 

Moving forward, though, this Web site is going to transition from a blog about biking, to a blog focused more generally on the State Of Man, and whatever else seems interesting. Today, what seems interesting is this:

As Campaign Heats Up, Untruths Can Become Facts Before They're Undone

It's good to know Bill's still out there tearing up the roads. Just spoke with him yesterday; he talked a little about his travels and his plans to hit Seattle -- "just for the hell of it," since he's "city shopping anyway" -- before Portland and San Francisco. It's good to know, also, that he has the opportunity to ride on, unencumbered.

Thirty-nine thousand acres of Yellowstone have been charred by fires; the cause is lightning and a lack of rain in the park. Amazingly, our route and progress have been unaffected. Tomorrow, we enter Montana.

It took us two days to cross Bighorn, over the Wyoming High Country near Medicine Wheel, but the climb was worth it: the scenery was unbelieveable (we'll post photos as soon as we can), and the west side of the mountain range includes a three thousand-foot drop over fifteen miles at a ten percent grade.

As the cutting, visceral headline to this post suggests, we had the privilege of riding through the Black Hills today. Despite the terrain ("hills" is an understatement; it's actually a mountain range), random bursts of garish, overly-colorful tourist bullshit amid unbelievably picturesque natural landscapes, and thousands of gray-haired, red-faced fat men sporting handlebar mustaches, blue jeans, and leather chaps / vests on their loud, overpriced Harley

We decided to pause for a day in Wall, SD. To those familiar with Pennsylvania's towns and highways, Wall is South Dakota's equivalent to Breezewood -- a spot in the middle of nowhere, but at the crossroads of various thoroughfares where travelers can rest, get food, fuel up. But Wall is also home to Wall Drug, which is famous, I guess worldwide, for having one of the most random and mind-boggling advertising campaigns in the history of man. It's a simple idea: Place advertisements everywhere,

Bill's rear brakes were mostly worn down this morning, so we left our hosts' home around 9am and headed to the bike shop in downtown Pierre. Bill purchased new brakes, then went to work replacing his old ones outside the shop, since the store owner didn't want him "greasing up" his newly-washed floors and "bothering his customers." Bill and I both agreed this was not the most polite way to suggest outside maintenance, but whatever.

The brake replacement seemed like an easy task, but it took a long time because Bill had to true his wheel and address some other necessary bike issues before we hit the road. Eventual departure time was around 1pm CST, but we soon realized South Dakota turns into Mountain Time west of Pierre, so we gained an hour.

In the barn, hiding from hard rain and huge blasts of electricity in the sky, we were so concerned for our collective well-being that we passed out, snoring apparently, in lawn chairs next to neighing horses and what seemed like millions of buzzing mosquitoes. After an hour or so, we were discovered by a jolly woman in her early sixties who approached us out of the rain with silly, howling laughter (she was laughing at us, not with).

"Rough day," she said in a heavy Minnesota accent, giggling as we snapped awake. "Aey?"