I’ll tell you who: every nerd, geek, and any person who has ever had an interest in something that the mainstream considers lame. If you’ve ever drooled over the Star Wars films as a child, if you ever thought 3D art was absolutely mind-blowing, if you laugh at math jokes, you will adore Wordplay. Not only is the movie superbly produced, but it touches on the human element, requiring you to become sympathetic to their plight for friendship and community lest your own conscience be rendered frigid.

And there’s an added bonus to watching Wordplay: you’ll want to do a crossword puzzle when you’re done. I personally haven’t done a crossword puzzle in… a long time. I’m not a fan of doing them on newsprint, so I was glad to see that the NYTimes had some archived puzzles. Plus, when you’re doing a crossword on the computer, on the internet, well, you get to cheat.

That took me an hour to complete. And, I cheated without remorse, utilizing Google, Google Earth, Paralink Translator, and my thesaurus widget. Now I’m able to see the crossword puzzle appeal. If only I knew some more… stuff. I did one on global bodies of water, assuming that I knew more geography then fine arts or politics. If only they had an acoustics crossword, or physics - I’d lay a smackdown so intense as to induce a phase shift in the cosmic symphony.

Ok, so I’m going to go do some more puzzles. It’s not addicting yet, but, we’ll see.

This listing appeared on autotrader: a 2000 Volkswagen Beetle TDI, 5 speed. Yes, it has the 100k miles you’d expect of an 8-year-old vehicle, but the TDIs can last an elephantine lifetime. Yes, it’s a Beetle, and yes, it’s the flat lime green color probably more frequently driven by women… but, hey, it’s a TDI. I called the dealer and they said they were asking $8,000. I told them I’d be over after work.

The car was recently brought into the dealership on a trade-in and had neither been washed nor cleaned out yet. It has every single option available on the Beetles of 2000, with the exception of a CD player. Given that Beetles are typically cars for women, and given that it has heated seats, where was the CD player? Strange. But, never should I mind. It rode well, but oddly slow for a TDI, and would clearly look sharp once washed and cleaned with my engineering-type scrutiny. After the test drive (oh, how wonderful it felt to be behind a manual transmission TDI), the dealer rep told me that the vehicle was leaving for auction within a few days. If I wanted it, I could take it for $6,500 tonight.

Sixty-five means I could probably deal down to $5,800 or $6,000, which is pennies compared to other used TDIs on the market. My father scheduled to come over to check the car out and I waited in and around the TDI for an hour contemplating this vehicle. I called Becky so that she could give her opinion on me purchasing a Beetle. If her response was an emoticon, it wasn’t exactly a sad face but not exactly a weary face :/. So, I spent the rest of the time waiting for my father in deep thought about whether I should make this purchase and have disappointed (even slightly) my Becky. Once he arrived, we hit the road again with his more-diesel-tuned ears.

He also noticed the lack of zip in the TDI. On our second test ride, the dealer rep pointed out that a mechanic had said the turbo was “intermittent”. Or, in other words, the turbo was broken, messed up, something other than fully-functional. A TDI without the turbo is a slow, fuel-efficient car, probably not capable of maintaining the 60mph speed limit traveling up I-81 into Blacksburg on the 6% climb. Which is no different than my family’s trusty 1991 diesel Jetta. Even $6,000 for a TDI (more like DI) isn’t worth it if you have to replace the turbo ($2,000 estimated expense total) and then hope that the previous owner hadn’t destroyed the car by running it for so long without the turbo.

The final nail on the coffin was that the interior needed several fixes: a latch to be replaced here, a speaker needing fixing here, a button needing re-attachment there. Above all, Becky’s hesitance to see me drive around in a green Beetle - and dare I even ask her to be in the passenger seat while I piloted the car, she’d need dark sunglasses to hide her shame - was what really impressed me to pass up this deal. Yes, the car can be fixed in&out for about $2,500 more, but the utility of a Beetle doesn’t compare to that of a Golf or Jetta TDI. And the 45 mpg in a TDI isn’t worth the rolling eyes your girlfriend gives you when you pick her up in a lime green VW Beetle.

I’ve given a lot of thought to the future lately. My academics have morphed into a sort-of career with their own set of rules, expectations and authority figures. The convenience and utility of motor transportation has me searching for a proper automobile that could last me a long time. Becky is moving here in July - an event worthy of a billboard-sized countdown.

Everywhere I look, a serious disposition seems appropriate, though even better accompanied with a round of humor and lightheartedness. A coming-of-age is on the horizon, and I’ve not been blogging enough lately to look back and see the magnificent progression. I blame my extreme busyness due to this past semester’s finale, my exhausted eveningself for not having the capacity to contemplate and document my coming-and-goings.

So, enjoy some visuals while I get my documentarian self back in order.

Anyways, the Tour de Georgia is going on right now. American events are considered fairly relaxed compared to the Pro Tour races; the Pro teams open up the pace once they feel like it and thoroughly destroy the Pro-continental teams still hanging on. The easier levels of duress encourage a bit of playfulness within the peloton, in addition to greater interaction with the media. And, thankfully, many of the riders like to blog. David Zabriskie, who rode the fastest Tour de France time trial ever, is keeping up with his blog. Several riders are contributing to cyclingnews.com blog section, like the popular Rory Sutherland and Trent Wilson. The Jittery Joe’s Pro Cycling Team is keeping everyone up to date with photos and videos.

Then there’s Ted King of the new Bissell Pro Cycling Team. Similar to the humor of Zabriskie, King is so popular among pelotons that he was in the running for “most loved rider” during the Tour of California, alongside the likes of the George Hincapie. Ted King’s blog is pretty nice. He took some photos with his iPhone during the Tour of California, while he was actually riding along in the peloton, and then posted them to his blog that night. Were I not afraid that the other Cat4 riders in my races would freak out and crash when they see me racing with one hand and taking cameraphone pictures during a race, I would absolutely do it.

Cycling blogging must becoming an everyday affair, considering other riders from the VT team. Four other riders have their own blogs, complete with plenty of visuals (sometimes even photos that I took…), to stimulate the Watts-watching geek inside of all of us. Yes, this was a good group to begin getting involved in. Fits like a nice carbon sole. Plus, the footage is always a blast (ad before video).

If you’re not familiar with Paris-Roubaix, then allow me a moment to explain the reference. The oldest of all cycling races still held today, Paris-Roubaix is known for brutalizing the best riders out there from the start in Paris to the finishing velodrome loop in Roubaix. Dozens of cobblestone “sectors” are chosen each year for the course, which varies year-to-year based on the condition of the roads. This year’s course was 260 kilometers long (~180 miles) and contained 28 cobblestone sectors totaling 50km. Half of the time, France is doused in rain during the spring turning Paris-Roubaix into a demoralizing slop.

Mule Hell-Roubaix doesn’t actually take you to Roubaix but does include several gravel sections - cobblestones are hard to come by in Wytheville. This year’s ride had some showers at the beginning which tapered off as the day went on. The course was 50 miles of flat terrain with a finish of steep rollers in a residential neighborhood.

Several of us Rogues racers went out to support this local event. The pace split up the group on 2 or 3 occasions leaving a group of 9 of us as contenders for the finish; the pace never really let up and only accelerated towards the finish. Fortunately, 5 of the 9 remaining riders were Rogues and there was a general agreement among the Rogues to set me up for sprinting up the hard rollers at the end. Unfortunately, no one wants to really finish a race ride on a slow note, so not long after I was off the front sprinting, a few other Rogues started the chase as I reached the flat, time-trialing section before the line. But, I was about 10 seconds ahead by that point and was just moments away from the finish. Where I finished alone, alongside several tables of prepared food and drinks. It’s not common to be treated to a small banquet after a local ride, so we enjoyed that.

So, it was a good start to the weekend. Then, once home, I napped and then headed back to the lab for a group meeting. Wow, the fun never stops. Actually, the fun slows down a bit once the semester ends in another week. Thankfully.

This has created a problem. As an engineering student, mathematics symbols are commonplace and who doesn’t love using a ∑ whenever possibl∑? Text∑dit does a decent job of them but interfacing with them is a hassle. Then, there’s absolutely no internal word count support and the 3rd party apps for word count are ridiculous. Probably the greater issue, however, is that embedded images are not opened at all. Even QuickLook can view some images in a standard Word doc, which, of course, is the file du jour in engineering.

While browsing around for a quality word count plugin for TextEdit, I came across Bean. Bean is a free and almost fully-featured word processor with integrated word count and, well, I’ve yet to come across any major feature it is missing. It’s relatively new but seems to be much further along than beta (it’s currently 1.0.1). And, since I’m a stickler for not wasting RAM, it is a paltry 2.6MB in running size (TextEdit is 22.1MB, which I thought was miniscule; Word 2008 is 63.7MB and no wonder it is so slow in opening). Bean also supports docx for those times when peers or colleagues email you an attachment in the file format with no future. (As a gesture of goodwill, always send back the file in a doc format).

So, check out Bean. Plus, if you’re a fan of having nothing or almost nothing in your dock, Spotlighting “bean” is almost a natural motion. Try it. Apple+Space then “bean”. There’s almost no effort involved. Our fingers are practically programmed to type “bean” on the standard qwerty keyboard. Plus, the application icon has a coffee mug in it - the last remaining object of productivity I needed to remain on my desktop. Oh, it’s a good day when I discover great, free software.

Edit: After having actually read the file formats article on the Bean website, I realize that it doesn’t do everything. However, I have still found a great TextEdit replacement with a word count and better-than-average embedded image support.

The vast numbers of students at a university of this size helps to diminish the effects. Even though the 5 or 6 degrees of freedom rule applies in nearly all cases, the death of a person in a university setting only has significant effect on those within 2 or 3 degrees. The day following the shooting here, April 17, 2007, was the mourning at Cassell Coliseum. Afterwards, I ran into some friends who knew or who had friends who knew some victims that I didn’t know. The knowledge that I was so closely connected to yet another victim, without knowing him/her directly, literally hurt. You would think that only the 1st or 2nd degree of freedom would endure such anguish, but another factor is at play.

American universities come in 3 sizes: tall, grande, and venti. The tall, or private, universities have small student bodies, often well-developed curricula, and close ties. The grande are the small public universities, frequently with academic specializations or unique programs that can be especially marketed to high school seniors with an indifferent but adventurous approach to their higher academics. The venti universities are those that compete in Division I athletics and have a football team that is consistently ranked; these schools are black holes for undergraduates and have school spirit written into every piece of text you’ll find printed, scrawled, or vandalized across the campus.

Virginia Tech is a venti university where the school spirit - Hokie Spirit - is pervasive. A family connection is created by returning your acceptance letter which never ceases to exist (VT alum give an unprecedented amount of money back into the university following graduation).

When a school shooting takes place on the campus of a university like Virginia Tech, the school spirit suffers, too. This doesn’t mean that the school spirit is diminished by the catastrophe, but, rather that a type of innocence is lost for everyone. In effect, the 6 degrees of freedom rule is negated. If you’re a Hokie, you hurt.

One year later and the hurting isn’t as bad. The raucous environment of venti universities and the transient nature of graduates and incoming freshmen eliminates the attention span of its students, and suffering, or the need for healing for that matter, can be neglected. The phrase “We Will Prevail,” has worked and Virginia Tech is back on its feet.

Yet, one group still remembers April 16, 2007, with unmatched clarity.

Those in the 1st degree of freedom can never forget, never put to rest, and never replace the loss. I feel most sympathy for the families of those lost; I doubt one year of difference has provided a recession for the grief. The Hokie Nation has healed sufficiently but that veil of recovery is dwarfed by the remaining pain for those stuck in the 1st degree.

Anyways. I have no eloquent finale, only thanks to those who were caring for and loving me that day.

Just take this boring food court, for example,

It’s no wonder why I liked the classics - anyone who doesn’t enjoy the frenetic scenarios of Lucy Ricardo is messed up in the head; anyone who doesn’t wish they had the suavity of The Fonz should try to remember the uncertainty and embarrassment of high school. However, my continual viewing of the Nick Jr. shows baffled me then and only recently have I begun to decode my fascination. It wasn’t the contextual complexity of the shows that kept me locked - because, certainly, those shows are designed to have minimal layers - but, as I’ve realized, it was the simplicity itself that held my attention.

I’m reading The Tipping Point, a book about causality and how small things can have enormous effects. One of the examples is Blue’s Clues, a show targeted at 3/4/5-year-olds that was launched when I was 11 years old; it had such tremendous success despite being a show that most adults could not stand watching with their kids. It was too simple for most people outside of the demographic - the host’s, Steve’s, pauses and audience-directed questions would drive most adolescent or adult viewers insane.

During the Blue’s Clues case study in The Tipping Point, author Malcolm Gladwell shows the amazing stickiness (his term) that the program’s uncomfortable and continual repetition creates. The viewing audience of small children are rapt by the detective-like narrative and the increasingly-difficult puzzles that are solved along the way. The network’s decision in one area of the show set Blue’s Clues apart from other children’s programming: only one episode is shown per week, but that same episode is shown every day. Should any other television programming choose this method to create a stickiness with its audience, they would certainly lose viewership in a heartbeat. But, the detective-esque routines and the audience questioning allows Blue’s Clues an unparalleled connection with the audience that seems (and seemed to me when I was watching years ago) fresh every time around.

This type of repetition worked so well for me because I am the type of media viewer who always tries to associate myself with what I’m watching. I struggle to watch horror movies because I do my best to become the hopeless protagonist who is likely going to suffer; even knowing that I sympathize so deeply with the characters is not enough of a realization to refrain from doing it a second time. To this day, whenever I watch The Empire Strikes Back I still hope that Luke would have given up shooting the Imperial walkers sooner and had gone from the legs at the get-go so as to actually halt the offensive (oh, what a deplorable job of leading you did there, Skywalker). In addition, I absolutely, absolutely cannot watch any show or movie with close-up shots of gore - I seriously bury my face into Becky’s shoulder when, watching an episode of House, they show some operation or computer-animated version of flying through human organs. When watching something, I really enter into the environment of the show, so as to assist the characters along in their struggle (albeit, to no avail).

This is precisely why Blue’s Clues appealed to me and why the 5-day marathons couldn’t phase my adamance. I wanted Steve to wise-up and solve the puzzles at a greater pace and the 2nd and 3rd days of the original show were just another chance for him to catch onto Blue’s clues faster. But, since Steve wasn’t going to solve puzzles faster and since I was becoming totally immersed into the clue-finding and clue-deciphering action, I would become furious that he was unable to learn from mistakes and I, ashamedly, would be poised on the edge of my seat ready to throttle Steve for having no adaptability.

Somehow, maybe through the peaceful contemplation of the episode-ending Thinking Chair or the enjoyable appearances of that animated dog named Blue, I never gave up my viewing. Only once I spent my summers doing more outdoors stuff, especially when I got into casual mountain biking in middle school, did I forget about television and lose all appeal in the programming. Still, today, I cannot escape the sympathies that I have for thematic characters; it’s as if they were friends that I could only wish the best for. And that’s really the appeal that producers and writers have in designing television shows, so I’m forever at their mercy. Fortunately, I know to avoid the horror & medical genres, whenever possible.

Climbing has always been my forte and love. When I approach the base of some mountain, I now realize that I mentally prepare for the suffering and am able to find a grueling but attainable balance between pace and pain. There’s a wonderful gratification waiting for me at the top of the climb and that simply pleasure allows me to maintain a higher threshold than usual.

This weekend, the VT Cycling Team hosted our round of races (most schools in the conference host a weekend of races each season). Unfortunately, due to a number of reasons mainly stemming from some research-related work I absolutely had to complete Saturday morning, I missed the Saturday road race. The worst part about the busyness was that I never had a chance to hop on a road bike to get in some quality riding. However, three trips to and from the Plantation Road lab and another 45 minutes of Huckleberry Trail riding on my father’s old Schwinn Super Sport allowed my legs some fun. Sunday’s race I would not miss, not only because I had to pass on Saturday’s road race, but because it is exactly the type of race I love.

Today was the Mountain Lake individual time trial (also considered a road race because it was mass-start). After 1.6 miles of flat, you turn onto Mt. Lake Rd. and climb 6.8 miles to the summit & hotel.

I left the house at 9, hoping to bike up 460 to the staging area in Newport. A few minutes away, I came across some other VT A-Cat riders who asked if I’d be interested in taking the long route over, namely by the river. I had no reason to deny myself a peaceful river ride before the race, plus, I was leaving super early and didn’t savor the idea of sitting around for so long; so, I turned around and was absorbed into our small cluster. Along the way, due to a consistent dousing of rain in the last month, we passed by some lush, green rolling fields and then came the river. Smelling as rivers should, the New River rolled along in our direction, as endless numbers of tributaries and pipes fed fed the waters’ momentum. A few minutes later and we arrived at staging.

We lined up and I was shivering slightly, the rolling creek beside us keeping the temperature down as my heart rate also relaxed. As soon as our group escaped the flat stretch, I started making pace. A few minutes later I realized that I wasn’t hearing other cranksets and chains spinning behind me. I turned and I was alone.

I’m not the quality climber I used to be. Since Thanksgiving, I’ve steadily gained weight and I don’t have the sprightliness in my legs that once flourished. However, the more intense riding I’ve done lately has given me more strength to compensate for the added weight. Around mile 3 of the 7ish total, a new rider appeared and grabbed my rear wheel. He must have bridged a huge gap to catch back up with me - he was breathing heavily and most audibly. I kept my pace and he kept my rear wheel.

In fact, I kept my pace and he kept my rear wheel for the rest of the climb. This is actually advantageous for him in a racing sense, because he is able to know my thresholds and then save when possible for the final sprint. To me, I really didn’t care. I knew this was the case, but my pace was comfortable for me; I would often overhear his heavy breathing right behind me and I would respond with a casual increase in speed and a tiny smile appearing on my face amidst my own steady breathing. As we reached the last kilometer, the fog inhibited our view and my sunglasses (mainly to protect from debris) were effectively hindering my performance. I didn’t feel like taking them off, though, since it surely would have broken my pace in the final moments.

At 200 meters, I realized I had done what I’d hoped to accomplish once during the entire collegiate cycling season - absolutely tear apart the field. On the climb, I’d caught the entire women’s A group who started 5 minutes before us and caused an enormous rift in my own group by setting a pace only one other guy could handle (and with a little aerodynamic help, I might add). With about 100m remaining, I got out of the saddle for a short sprint but had no desire to do so. If the guy riding my wheel wanted the collegiate racing 1st-place points, he could have them; I was ecstatic that I’d been the one leading the entire race and had put this wheel-sucking guy in serious pain. He quickly sprinted around me in the last 20m and his wheel touched the line less than a second before mine did.

Biking home, I felt like a million dollars. Since I don’t have long-term pro cycling plans, I don’t need points - I need to enjoy the races. What a fantastic time today.