With the kiddiewinks having the week off because of Thanksgiving, we enjoyed a duel barrel sleepover last night. Maile and Jackson have friends that happen to be brother and sister, so we had them both over for the evening last night. As per usual at the GoFast household, we all sat down for dinner to enjoy each others company. I could tell right away that this would not be the typical repast. As it makes the wifeage uncomfortable, I asked one of the little guests to lead us in prayer before the meal. Something we don't do, but I like to whip it out there whenever we have somebody new to the table. The little boy guest said that they normally didn't do that ritual. So I said I'd do what we normally did and they could join in if they liked. At that point I stood up, waved my arms about my head and yelled, "meatballs on the ceiling!!" They giggled and immediately joined in. My kids, ever leery of the various ways I can embarrass them, were somewhat relieved when their guests didn't vomit in horror. They also jumped up and did the what will now become a nightly pagan ritual. The wifeage, in a rare show of solidarity joined right in.

Then we sat back down and started talking about the day. I asked the girl guest who her teacher was at school and she replied, "Mrs. Schmidt." I said, "oh, she's the one that can actually unlock her jaw and eat the head of any little kid who misbehaves...right?" She thought for a moment and then said, "no, I think you mean Mrs. Simmons. She ate a little boys head last week." And without missing a beat, the little boy guest added, "that's not entirely true. She only ate half and is saving the other half in her freezer for later." Which lead me to believe that the dinner conversation that happens at their table on a nightly basis maybe weirder than the one that my family engages in. No doubt, these two are welcome anytime as the belly laughs were coming fast and frequent.

And then, completely out of the blue (well not really as the stereo was on), the two little guests started belting out JBJ's Living on a Prayer in perfect rhythm with the song on the stereo. Shockingly not missing a word of the most prolific song of our time. My little ones looked at me and the wifeage as if to say, "how come we don't sing JBJ at the dinner table." It's only a matter of time now. My kids will be prepared for life like the little guests I had to the table last night. Anyway, hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

Clearly I have become some sort of go between in what is becoming a rather heated feud between two up to now seemingly mellow and friendly competitors. Recall that I received a piece of registered mail from Eric Bustos intended for Tim Watson. I was gracious enough to forward said letter on to is rightful and intended party. Now I have received a return response and again, I need to forward this doc to the intended party. Tim and Eric: I am neither of you and neither of you resides at my place of business or home. Please carefully address any future communications appropriately. Anyway, I couldn't help but post the rebut to yesterday's letter from Eric. Have a look below:

Dear Eric,
Before I get into the guts of my reply, please click here. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, allow me to retort. At no point will I accept any blame for your broken wheel. Recall that when I arrived on the scene, you were doing what looked like some sort of break dancing routine in the dirt. Because of the fast pace being hammered out by The Myrah somewhere up the trail, I was red lined and bleary eyed at the time. No doubt your antics were confusing to me, to say the least. It was at this point that I had to go into full brake mode to keep from joining you on the ground. My success was less than optimal, and as a result, I ended up getting off of my bike and onto your wheel. In a way, you saved me because we Lobsters take great pride in our bike handling skills. So much so that we have a running bet with each other regarding our ability to clean courses with minimal foot releases. More accurately, every time we have to get off the bike and actually touch dirt for something other than barriers or run-ups, we owe a case of beer to be brought to the next race. So though I did have to get off of the bike in a spot where otherwise it could have been ridden, I do not have to buy a case (as the visual evidence shows in your picture) because my foot never touched the dirt but rather your wheel. Though a technicality in nature, you saved me some sheckles, for which I owe you some thanks. As these are the facts, I feel that your request is outrageous in nature and have no intention of reimbursing you for your wheel. I consider this matter closed. I invite you by our tent this weekend to join me in a beer so we can put this thing to bed.

Sincerely,

Tim Watson
Rock Lobster Cyclocross Team

p.s. I like that Tumbleweed nickname for Mundelius. We actually call him The Tumblina because that hideous attempt at a mullet makes him look more like a girl than the Euro trash bike racer image he is shooting for. It's almost comical when he crashes what with those blond locks flying about all silly like.


Anyway, it's kind of fun to see this feud unfold. I don't know how I ended up getting bashed in the process of these two duking it out though. May be time for a haircut and a skills session based on the chatter. Hope you are well and see you on Saturday night in Brisbane. And stay off of Eric's wheel. Unless you're a Lobster, that is.

Johnny GoFast

So I'm sitting there at my office and one of those letters comes in that you have to sign for. I'm forever getting those things from the wifeage and the envelope usually contains the weekends "honeydo" list. The receipt verification is brilliant on her part as I can't claim ignorance though I still try. But this time the letter was something entirely different and though not intended for me, I couldn't help but read it. Clearly aimed for Tim Watson on Rock Lobster, I forwarded it accordingly. Have a look:

Dear Tim-
As you may recall, you lost control of your bicycle on Sunday November 8th at the CCCX bike race at Toro Park. As a result of your rather suspect bike handling, damage resulted to my rear Zipp wheel. The attached photo clearly shows you standing on my spokes. As a result of your clumsiness, one of the spokes let go and tore out of the carbon rim. This, in effect, destroyed my wheel. Complicating the matter, this wheel was brand new. I had recently received shipment of the wheel and this was, in fact, my first race on said wheel. I recognize that bike racing is an inherently dangerous sport and that at times, the discipline of cyclocross in particular, racing can be exceptionally harsh on equipment. At no time did I anticipate that a fellow competitor would resort to such lousy skills. This is the master A category after all. We are expected to know how to handle our rides with aplomb or else remain in one of the lower ranks. Sure, there are some outliers like John Mundelius (also known as the Tumbleweed in the Strawberry circles) who will fling himself on the ground for no reason, but the field, by and large knows how to handle themselves. As a result, I cannot help but think that you are 100% at fault for this egregious act to my wheel. I will await and expect full remediation in prompt fashion. I do get a steep discount on Zipp wheels because, as you may well know, I race on the deepest and most talented master’s cyclocross team in the nation. Your team is good too, just not as good as mine. I do not expect you to pay full retail to replace my wheel, just reimburse me for my cost. If you have any questions, we can discuss at any of the next upcoming races.


Kind Regards,

Eric Bustos
Cal Giant Strawberries Racing Team



No doubt a bold move by Bustos and I would love to be a fly on the wall when this thing comes to a boil. Not sure I like being called a Tumbleweed. Anyway, hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

So that's the boy rockin' the kids race at Toro Park yesterday. Unbeknownst to me, they make the tykes do a complete lap of the course, as opposed to one of those sissy type series/races where they set up a miniature lap around the parking lot. CCCX build racers with cajones! And he loved it. He also loved the strawberries they gave as well as the medal to all the finishers. A proud moment, to be sure, when he got to supply the family with the goods. He later asked me if the medal was real gold and I told him absolutely. He then told me that no matter how much it would fetch with one of those gold companies you hear on the radio that will buy gold, this medal was
not for sale. Beauty. He then asked me this morning whether the pictures were posted yet and so we looked. Apparently the DNA is hard coded in my lineage to obsessively look for results and photos of the weekends exploits. No luck at 7am this morning, but for sure we'd have something by the evening, I told him. True to form, Rick Rassmussen is Johnny On The Spot with the photo as pictured above, and one little boy will be a little bit happier as a result. Make that two. Anyway, hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast