Eclipse and little girl bikes.

Today the great dragon is going to eat the sun and millions of people on the other side of the globe are going to stop killing each other for a moment watch it in wonder and then take it as a sign that they should be killing some people. And thus the passage of time continues.


I remember there being a total eclipse of the sun when I was a kid in Tennessee. I was in grade school and had an idiot for a teacher. We were supposed to make pinholes in cardboard so that we could watch the eclipse on another piece of cardboard. However the teacher was not very bright so instead she handed out the scissors and we all ended up cutting holes about the size of a quarter. This simply did not work and as we were crouched outside to the cried of “Don’t look at the sun! it will burn your eyes out!.’ We instead stared down at our cardboard sunspot that was absolutely doing nothing. I was rather annoyed until a friend handed me a set eclipse-watching glasses he had cobbled together out of half a dozen 3-d glasses. I got a single wonderful glimpse of the sun with a big cookie bite out of it before a teacher snatched them away and hissed “Your eeeeyyyyes!”.

I did some modifications to my bicycle last night. My parents were kind enough to get me one for Christmas although I did not want them to. I wanted a cruiser bike for a change and they had gotten me a mountain bike. It was very nice and I was not about to turn it down however I hate the handlebars on it. They are the kind that is just a little short bar and they do not raise up at all. This is all fine and dandy when you are roaring down a mountain side screaming out ‘WOO! X-TREEEME!’ but when you are just pedaling around town the position becomes cumbersome.

I have to raise the seat high enough for my long legs to properly reach the pedals and so to reach the handlebars I have to hunch over and stick my ass in the air like a lewd offering to some greased up Greek. Given time the position becomes unconformable and I actually end up riding by resting my knuckles on the handlebars. After a while riding it just became no fun because I would think about my aching knuckles. It’s like an ape riding a bike.

So last night I fished out a set of handlebars from my garage. They actually originally went to some 1970’s era exercise bike. They are long and high and when affixed to my bike it looks like I am riding the worlds largest little-girl bike. All it needs is a couple of tassels. It’s completely absurd to look at yet at the same time it’s amazingly comfortable. Now my arms rest at chest-height instead of me having to contort myself on the bike. I cheerfully pedaled around downtown in the dark for a little while. I need to pickup some headlights.



My hottub does not seem to be as hot as it once was. I went in last night for a good soak before bedtime and while the water was hot it simply did not feel as hot as it had once been. At it’s peak I could only stand to sit in it for around 20 minutes or so before I started to sweat hard and had to get out before I cooked myself. Not it is just simply pleasant and I almost dozed off in it last night. Either the heater is starting to die off or the foam I put inside the cover is simply not sealing in the heat as it should. I suspect the latter and it’s annoying because it will drive up my electric bill from the heat always being on and I have to find a new cover for it and those things can be pricey.

I woke up this morning to the sound of a catfight. Two stray cats were fighting in my house George and the Evil Sylvester. I do not mind George but the Evil Sylvester is a bad cat and I try to chase him off when I can. I think he and George are archenemies. This morning probably unfolded like this:

(George comes into the room and sits down oblivious to the fact it’s not his house)
(Evil Sly walks in)
George: (monocle pops off)I say! Is that Sir Fredrick of York? I thought you had met your demise at the mountain of fire!
Evil Sly: Ha! Ha! You wish old chap us Yorkshires are tough as old leather! And not I have come to finish what my brother could not!
George: Have at you then!

(Fight starts wakes me up and I go screaming after two cats in my underwear.)

Today is Wednesday and that means the premier of ghost hunters is on tonight. I just might go grab myself a pint of harps beforehand. I might even squeak down there on my little girls bike.

2026 Update

Dialing the time machine back to March 2006: Ed is riding a little-girl bike, fighting lukewarm water, and being chased by cats.

Ah, 2006. A beautiful, stupid time. You had to make your own eclipse glasses out of 3D glasses because the teacher handed out quarter-sized holes and then screamed at you not to look at the sun. Now you can order certified glasses online and the whole country acts like it's the Super Bowl, but I still don't trust the internet any more than I trust that teacher. Bicycles: you wanted a cruiser, got a mountain bike, and solved it by bolting handlebars from a 1970s exercise bike onto a modern frame. These days you'd just buy an upright city bike with a step-through frame and a basket for your oat-milk latte, and nobody would even laugh. The hot tub cover losing its seal? In 2026 your hot tub has an app, a subscription, and a firmware update that makes it colder on purpose. And Ghost Hunters premiering on Wednesday night meant you had to plan your evening; now you'd have forty streaming tabs open and still rewatch the same episode. Ed, you absolute artifact, your little-girl bike was the most honest thing in this post.

“2006 Ed, after you squeaked downtown on a bike with 1970s exercise-bike handlebars, did you ever consider that tassels would have completed the look—and did you ride faster or slower when you realized you were the world's largest little girl on a bicycle?” — Beelzebubba the Third

2006 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, you're not wrong about the tassels. I've been telling myself it doesn't need them, but the truth is a couple of those sparkly jobbies hanging off the grips would probably make the whole thing official. I might even see if the dollar store has some in pink. As for speed, I'm sad to report I actually rode slower, and not because I was embarrassed. It's just that once you've accepted you're the world's largest little girl, there's no reason to rush. You kind of want to savor the absurdity, let the neighbors get a good long look. Plus my arms are finally at chest-height instead of my knuckles aching, so I took the long way around the block like some proud demented parade float. I did almost doze off in the hot tub after, so I guess the only speed that matters is the slow leak in my sanity. Take that, tassels.

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