West Side Story - 2007

When you're a jet you are a jet forever - most of you are too young to understand the reference but if you can, go rent the musical. It's worth watching.

Fast forward to 2007. My friend Charlie is the captain of the Woodburn police department. Although Woodburn is a small town, it has it's gang related issues. Recently Charlie recounted to me how 4 members of the 18th street gang had went to a 7-11, and 2 stayed in the car and 2 stayed in the store. Then, 2 members of the 13th street gang pulled into the parking lot. How many gang members were left? Sounds like one of those jokes where you have 10 gang members going to Chicago, in Philadelphia 3 get off and 9 get on...etc, etc.

Anyway, there was an altercation of course that culminated in an agreement to meet in the park at midnight. Unfortunately a shooting occurred with a bullet going through the back of a guy's shoulder as he was running away and exited out of the front of his shoulder, blowing the joint to smithereens.

Charlie used to work for the Lake Oswego police force. Now Lake Oswego is an affluent suburb of Portland. It's the kind of place where people walk around with a little doggie in a sweater in their purses. It's the kind of place where you have a near mansion overlooking the lake and a few $100,000 cars in the garage.

It's the kind of a place where at a wonderful restaurant called Blinn's Boathouse where you can get the best pizza you have ever had, sit out on the back patio and watch the rich people motor up in their restored Chris-Craft boats. It's the kind of a place where an anonymous seaplane might land.

Now, gentle reader; lest you think I'm being pejorative I will say some of my LO friends are the nicest, most generous people I know.

But Charlie and I had a bit of fun postulating a gang war in Lake Oswego compared with the gang war in Charlie's town. Let us recount a fictional news story as reported in the Lake Oswego Review:

An altercation broke out Saturday night between two rival high school gangs. Some members of the A Street Animals alledgedly flashed a gang sign at the Country Club Crushers. Conflict was inevitable as the Animals hold turf at Starbucks, while the Crushers own Peet's. According to witness Carlton Crumpet the Animals and Crushers agreed to meet at midnight at Millenium Park.

At the appointed hour the gangs faced off. Nervous tension filled the air as the Animals and the Crushers faced off. As the boys arrayed themselves into battle formation, their girlfriends watched nervously from the sidelines, clutching their little doggies tucked protectively in their Hermes' handbags.

Suddeny, the fray erupted. To the dismay of the Crushers the Animals had brought their Lacrosse sticks. But the Crushers also had weapons at the ready. They began hurling half pound bags of Peet's coffee at the Animals! The Animals began swinging at the bags wildly at the flying containers of coffee, spilling the expensive beans across the battle ground. Soon the air was filled with the aroma of Peet's unique roasting style that results in a rich complex taste.

As the Animals began to lose their footing, defeat at the hands of the Crushers an unexpected turn of developments ensued. Seeing their boyfriends being pushed back by the bags of coffee whistling through the air like medieval catapult loads, the Animal's girlfriends entered the scene and wildly began to fling their Manolo Blahnik pumps at the Crushers. The dagger like heels quickly drove the Crushers back.

The police had arrived at the scene, and strategized a way to end the conflict. Climbing to the top of nearby trendy boutiques, they dropped coupons for free bikini waxes into the crazed crowds as the boys and girls began to tussle! To their delight the strategy worked! Even some of the girls got coupons.

Product Review - Fuel Belt

I've only worn a Camel Back once, and didn't really like it. Having the weight of the fluid in a backpack (even though not much) and the moving around was annoying. Now that I'm running some longer distances I know I needed something.

Enter Fuel Belt! This clever contraption does several things that attracted me to it. First, it puts the weight lower on the hips rather than high on the back. I think that is a more advantageous position to keep the back relaxed. Second, it distributes the weight so that it is not centralized. Finally, it's different bottles allow for different fluids rather than being the same necessitated by one container.


To be fair, I haven't looked at the current technology advances of the Camel Back or generic substitutes. They certainly have improved and become more sport specific but even so it was clear to me that Fuel Belt was designed for runners, not adapted to runners. If you are a Camel Back representative and want to send me one of your designs for product testing, email me and I promise to give it a fair review.

For a 17 mile run I filled the two back containers (the containers hold 8 ounces) with Powerade, and the front two with water. I put a gel packet in the zip container. The zip container is very small and will not hold much else. Off I set on the run! The first thing I noticed was that the weight in the back, albeit small; gave the sensation that the belt was going to pull my shorts off. Now I must say that I don't have large buttocks so this may be not an issue for most people. It just seemed to ride lower than I expected.

I was about five miles into the run when I first took a drink. It was awkward getting the bottle out of the back, and more awkward getting it in. It is likely a learned skill that gets better over time. Because the bottles are held in place by an elastic strap pocket, it's a tricky balancing act between being too loose and having the bottles come out, and being too tight where it is difficult to get them back in.

There was a small amount of sloshing when consuming some but not all of the fluid, but nothing too egregious. I can live with that. The sizing was too black and white. I am approximately a 33 inch waist. The medium was too small, and I had to exchange it. The large is nearly too big.

The price is fairly expense at $44.95, but overall I think the cost was worth it and I would recommend it.

Running Ruminations

Just a collection of random observations from my running lately:

I once was lost

Last weekend I went for a 15 mile run in preparation for the Maui Marathon. Knowing I would need some liquid refreshment (and I don't mean beer) along the way and not having a portable means of hydration I knew it was incumbent upon me to plant some water bottles. I mapped my route, and then left early in the morning to surreptiously stick my water in an unobtrusive place.

I found my first location just fine, in a tidy little shaded spot beneath the sign of a business about 7 miles into the run. Continuing on my route I went into a neighborhood - and got so incredibly miserably lost I almost ran out of gas. True story. When I left the house I had about 2 miles on the tripmeter, plus the 15 for the run, maybe add a mile or two for scouting. I should have returned home with no more than 19 miles. I'll tell you the odometer reading shortly! As I drove I realized Google Maps had not done the route justice. I ended up winding through neighborhoods, ending up at one dead end after another. As I drove hither and yonder I saw a guy running and wondered if he was running on the route I had chosen. I didn't want to follow him directly like I was stalking him, so I decided to drive around a bit and stealthily observe his route. Around I went, again becoming utterly lost. Then, I spotted him. He gave me this strange look, while I nonchalantly pretended that I'd never seen him before. Eventually I figured out where I was, planted a second bottle and made my way home. With 43 miles on the odometer!

Barking up the Wrong Tree

I occasionally (ok maybe once a day) let my ego get the better of me. Earlier this summer I had been cycling and had some high school girls holler at me. Now I'll confess that I didn't really hear what they said. They might have yelled something like "hey slugbait, speed it up old man!". What I heard was "wow! you go, hottie". So back to the present - I'm cruising down Bonita, feeling good, striding out - the world is my oyster. Hearing some high pitched screams as a car began to pass me I just chuckled - yeah, more fans. Girls follow me everywhere now. As the car passed I glanced over to see a Pomeranian in the back seat of the car bouncing up and down and yapping away. Maybe I'm not that much of a hottie after all.

Crossing Guard Squirrel

A few weeks ago as I was running south on lower Boone's Ferry Road I rounded a corner as the bike lane narrowed, forcing me to run very close to some blackberry bushes on the shoulder. Suddenly, very close and startling me a squirrel came right into view on a limb from a small tree directly to my right, and literally 3-4 feet away. Seriously, it was that close. The limb was slightly in my way and I was going to just lift it with my arm as I passed underneath. I think we were both freaked out. As the squirrel reversed direction and ran back to the trunk, it was apparent that his weight was holding the limb in the horizontal position and as he scooted back the limb went vertical. It was just like a crossing guard lifting the gate! Doesn't take much to amuse me does it?

Meeting Jose

I have a new friend! As I was running along minding my own business out of the corner of my eye I spotted a guy pull in behind me. Naturally, I started running a little faster. Naturally, so did he. It is the nature of runners to be competitive I suppose! I picked up the pace to a point where it seemed I could keep him at bay. But I noticed that every time I would speed up, so would he. After two miles of this rather than throw down I decided to slow down. I was about 6 miles into a 13 miler and knew if I tried to keep the pace I'd burn out badly the rest of the run. I slowed down to allow him to catch up, which he did and we started to chat. Jose is a nice guy and a cyclist and triathlete too so we had some great conversation. Turned out he used to work with my next door neighbor! I was hoping he would be able to be on our Hood to Coast team, but schedules prohibited that. Jose altered his route to run with me another four miles, and we had a nice chat and agreed to meet up for some more training here and there.

I saw the light, I saw the light...

Yesterday I did a 17 mile run. Lest you be too impressed, let me reassure you that it just about killed me. The last 2 miles were torture, and I had mapped it to give me about a half mile cool down walk to get home. Let me tell you, when I reached 17 I didn't know if I could make it the next half mile to get home! Seriously, that's the state of fatigue I was in. My run ended in a little industrial park on a quiet street (during the weekends) and has some nice landscaping. I found a shady spot and flopped down on the grass. I laid there for a while and just looked up at the sky and clouds. I imagined I saw a horsie, a doggie and the devastation of Jerusalem in the year 70 A.D. by the Romans under the command of Titus. And then I saw a rabbit.

As my mind wandered I realized I was underneath a street light. And on the bottom of the light as it faced down to the street there was a number '10' on it. Interesting, I thought - I wonder if they are numbered ascending as I go north, or descending? Imagine my surprise when I got to the next light and it was also numbered 10! Turning onto Bonita, I continued to look up and now they were numbered 20! One after the other. Rather than being fixated by street light numbering schemes, I'm just going to believe that on a less busy street they have a number 10 bulb in them, and on busy streets they have a number 20 bulb. Life is just easier that way.

Radar Love

Last Tuesday I went for a run and rounded a corner right into the beam of one of those radar trailers. Let my email to Chief Bill Dickinson recount the narrative:

Dear Chief Dickinson, first of all let me say that I’m pleased to live in Tigard. That’s a reflection of several things, and one of those is what I believe is a fine police department and I’ve had the pleasure of meeting some of your officers.

The reason I’m writing is to bring your attention to the radar trailer parked at 76th and Durham. The trailer faces northbound traffic on 76th and displays the speed to the vehicle. I was running tonight and imagine my surprise when I turned off of Durham onto 76th and saw the trailer. Not that the trailer was a surprise, but that it clocked me at 17 MPH! I turned expecting to see a car behind me that it was registering, but there was nothing. Puzzled but pleased at this apparent pace I ran around the block again. What I thought was an aberration was again reality as the trailer clocked me again at 16 MPH!

Sir, I'm just a middle aged stressed out desk jockey trying to reclaim what shreds of youth may be clinging to me as I travail this earth. I'd like to think that I can run a 14 MPH pace, but just last Sunday I ran 15 miles and it took me 3 hours! Either the radar is off or my Sunday run was a really bad day. I suspect the radar may be off.

I know you have far more important things than to sift through this drivel and there is no need for you to respond to my note but you might want to have someone calibrate it a bit finer. However, I do thank you for the brief glimpse in the rearview mirror of my life, where I saw a strong, handsome young man running 15 MPH.

Sincerely,

Dave Mundt

If a tree falls in the forest...

...would it make a sound? Philosophers ruminate upon that question, dissecting it into elements involving space, time, the definition of sound, receptor channels, the existence of man and who the artist was for the famous painting of the dogs playing poker?

I'm here to tell you though that I can provide an answer if we rephrase the question. Let's ask it this way - if a tree fell on your house would it make a sound? If you happened to be home - I can attest with first hand testimony that yes, it would; and did make a sound. A big sound. A sound that would roust you out of bed like Michael Vick at the Westminster Kennel Clug dog show.

On Friday August 10 our alarms had just gone off, about 4:00 AM. Hit the snooze control once, then twice - and then at 4:20 their was an enormous splintering sound and a thundering crash that shook the entire house. When up on the roof there arose such a clatter, Sherry and I sprang from our bed to see what was the matter. I immediately thought it was an earthquake, but Sherry knew that a tree had fallen. Talk about a 'root' awakening! Ha ha - get it - 'root', 'rude'?

We ran downstairs and looked out the sliding glass door that separates our dining room from the back deck. A horrible sight greeted our amazed eyeballs. Like a terrifying visage of Medusa, a tangle of tree trunks, branches, shattered fences land deck furniture were arranged in a swath of destruction, culminating in the piercing of our roof with such force that several limbs were driven through the roof and emerged from our ceiling!



Sherry called the fire department, and they were here in minutes. No electrical circuits were severed, and the base structure seemed intact enough that there was no imminent danger of the ceiling collapsing.

Initially Sherry did not see the limb to the left poking through the ceiling, as her focus was on the damage we could see outside. She turned around, saw the limb and screamed like a little girl. I thought maybe a squirrel had survived the fall and was running around our house like Lindsay Lohan in a rehab facitility.

As we took it all in, we noticed a long limb, maybe 3 feet; that was laying on the dining room floor. We had not really questioned it's origin of entry into the house. As we began to calm down we realized that in the several holes puncturing the ceiling, as far as we could discern it had not entered vertically but horizontally, as if someone had thrown a spear through the roof.

When the sun arose, we ventured outside and saw just how bad the damage was. The tree had fallen from our neighbor's yard, breaking through 3 fences before the bulk of the tree hit our house. I went over to talk to Pearl. She and her husband had lived on their land, a little hobby farm stuck in the middle of the city since 1952. She's a spry little thing and I'm guessing she is in her early eighties. She was amazed at the damage, and then showed me her corn. Yes Pearl, your corn is amazing...now about that insurance information? Bless her heart.

Sherry doesn't look terribly happy, does she? She's either stepped in some dog poop or is sad about the devestation of our little house. We now enter the twighlight zone of insurance companies and contractors. To date I must say that State Farm has been amazingly responsive, proactive and helpful. Within two days all the debris had been cleared off and a FEMA blue tarp spread over the roof like a loving mom tucking in her child at night. Because at least one truss was damaged, the entire roof will be removed in the area you see above. Needless to say that activity will render our home uninhabitable for at least a week. The insurance adjustor said that they'll put us up in a hotel or even rental home as long as it is needed. He commented that there is a Residence Inn just down the street. I countered by saying that I had been proactive and no rooms are available for the next three months, but the Hilton downtown has some vacancies. He kind of smiled and said, well you got to do what you got to do!

Room service, here we come.

The Perfect Running Playlist

I realize that there is a fair amount of controversy regarding if one should listen to music whilst running or cycling. Here's a case in point. Cycling for me is not an option, however I'll confess to being a runner that listens to MP3 songs as the miles go by. As I've bult my 'perfect' playlist I thought I would share it with you. Although it's dynamic and changes do occur, this is pretty much the standard and I rotate other songs through it.

I've noted that there are a few songs that are just too good to listen only, and that they are required to sing out loud as I run. Fortunately, one of my favorite routes takes me through an industrial area and then culminates running adjacent to a retirement community golf course. What do these two areas have in common? Usually a dearth of witnesses who would testify that my singing is one of the primary causes of global warming.

However, there are the occasional times when a musical infraction is overheard by an unlucky observer. So, there I was. Running through the golf course (on a trail of course!). Singing my lungs out to "Little Red Light" by Fountains of Wayne. Try it, go ahead - to use a lovely double negative you will not be able to not sing along. I was running on the proper side of the road, facing oncoming traffic. A minivan was making a right turn into a driveway, and he acknowledge me with a little wave indicating his approval to pass in front of him. I waved back acknowledging my gratefulness for not being run over by a minivan. As I passed him I was in full melodic bliss, belting out the lyrics like syrup on pancakes.

Guess what? There was a car behind him. I was looking slightly down watching the road when I glanced at the plate. To my horror I recognized the license plate. IT WAS MY WIFE! She had her window open and leaned over across the passenger seat and yelled "Hi Honey! You're looking good". I smiled and waved, and later on I tactfully asked her if, she maybe; had heard my singing. Thankfully, she had not.

Anyway, here's my current running playlist for your perusal: