Thats right.. As I mentioned previously, Im on my way to the great white Midwest to hook up with the fine folks from Crumpler and One on One for the Imaginary Bags show thats closing on Friday.

This show spotlights a silent auction that is going to raise money for the Mark Loesch Memorial Fund.
For those of you who dont know, Mark was murdered last September while riding his bike around town.
The whole heart breaking saga is right here.

The entire shibang is obviously for a very good cause, so if youre within a days drive, wont you please come down and get in on the action?
Plus, theres gonna be boys there. And girls, and its sundress weather.
Whats not to like?

Anyhoo, from there Ill be bouncing on over to the SRAM world headquarters in Chicago for a whirlwind trip to get schooled on the fine points of the internal hubs and Avid brakes that were using on our Swobo bikes. You can bet that whenever I return, Ill have a full and exciting report to lay on you all.
With all of that being said, lets get on with a matter thats kinda hanging over my head.

I guess I should take a second to apologize for yesterdays post. I had the best of intentions when putting it up, but I suppose I was missing a point. It was a sincere gesture on my part that apparently fell well outside of what it is were attempting to convey here, and for that Im sorry... But you know, I live and learn, and thats the way it goes.

That being said, lets continue....
A former teacher of mine just sent this priceless gem on to me taken from "The Reagan Diaries", published by Harper Collins;

"A moment I've been dreading.
George brought his n'er-do-well son around this morning and asked me to find the kid a job. Not the political one who lives in Florida; the one who hangs around here all the time looking shiftless. This so-called kid is already almost 40 and has never had a real job. Maybe I'll call Kinsley over at The New Republic and see if they'll hire him as a contributing editor or something. That looks like easy work."

Yeah, Reagan was a total douchbag, but he was a douchebag with an obvious sense for character.
And at least his presidency acted as a catalyst for some truly inspired punk rock.

And I suppose while were on the topic of douchebags, its appropriate to mention that our own CFO sent in a pretty great clip of the amazing Merckx doing what the amazing Merckx did best.

Seriously, the man was a machine.
What do you suppose was the secret to his success?
Enjoying the smooth taste of Camel, perhaps?

Anyway, no sooner do I mention people who are machines, am I struck with the realization that some of the hardest working folks in the magazine business have put to bed the new issue of Cog Magazine and should have it hitting the news stands any day now.

When I mentioned this fine publication and how each and every one of you should snatch up a subscription last time, did any of you listen?
Did you know that for every new subscription that Cog receives, an angel gets its wings?
I mean really, what the hell are you waiting for? I dont even know how to read, and I bought one for myself. Whats your excuse?

Check this clip out from The BicyKillers.

Oh if we could all be so lucky.
Id be lying if I said that clip kinda didnt make my heart skip a beat the first time I saw it, but then I realized that the BicyKillers live in Hollywood, and Hollywood as we all know is where movie magic happens.

The fine friends in Bellingham have a little something cooking this weekend.

I really like that town. It kinda reminds me of Ashland, but without the whole 'Renaissance Fair' vibe.
Come to think of it, its been a little while since I was through there. Perhaps that is where my long overdue vacation will take me.....

We got a high five from Hotlanta;

"Dear Stevil,

Long time reader, first time submitter. This weekend my bicycle conglomerate (Faster Moustache (dot)org) celebrated it's third year anniversary with some Goldsprints, a mustache competition, and much avoiding of the bummer life. I'd thought I'd share this pic with you:

(Many more of Chris Kellys photos can be found here.)

It includes three of your favorite things... Swobo's, triple sixes, and some mustaches. I think the only thing missing is bacon.

I truly believe that all the things advocated on your blog as prerequisites of avoiding the bummer life are universal.

Keep up the good work on the blog.

--Seth Kingry"

It always does my heart so, so good to know that folks like Seth.... Kindred spirits if you will, are out there in the mean streets fighting the good fight.

So another one of soldiers in the battle field of Bummer Life Avoidom is this next cat named Clay. He lives is Fayetteville Arkansas. Its just a stones throw from Fort Smith, dontchaknow?
Anyhow, he sent on some photos of a rather peculiar piece of decor in this eatery called Hugos.

Well I asked him to get a better shot of the item in question, and he did me one better and provided us with a virtual tour of the place, as well as a photo of the interior, with the 'meat' of the subject circled back there on the wall,

And one of the burger, just for good measure.

"This is the best photo I could get... I sent some photos of the place just to show that it is underground.. which I find fitting and they have the best burger ever... I guess the cook sold his soul.

Ciao!
me"

So now to the subject of this whole drawn out introduction.

You might be scratching your head as to why I put so much effort into this seemingly insignificant finding... I mean weve had everything from UPS trucks with the number of the beast to wedges of cheese. Whys this one so important? Well, the answer is two fold.
One is to fill up space, but more importantly the second part is because as I told Clay, I spent a fair portion of my formative years in that neck of the woods, and I dont think theres a batch of Americans, who have bloodies their hands thumping bibles or are more God fearing then people from this neck of the woods. To say that its the buckle in the bible belt, wouldnt exactly be an exaggeration.
Therefore, I am not only intrigued that this piece of wonderment exists, but that its displayed proudly in an eatery Im sure to be frequented by wholesome, church going folk.

I watched 'The Reaping' recently. I think I know whats gong on, and unless Hillary Swank is going to come and rescue me, its not gonna be pretty.

Well folks, that it for me.
Ive had it, however before I leave I mentioned that we had a special surprise in store to help celebrate How to Avoid the Bummer Life turning two years old. Things got a little pear shaped on this end, so what Ive done for one lucky reader is Ive made the ultimate sacrifice.
I shaved and laminated my moustace.

This could be looked at as a membership card to the exclusive club that exists only in my soul, or if you wish, you could crack this bad boy open and sprinkle the hairs around a murder scene so that the cops get all CSI-y on me.
With this piece of high-art, youll also receive a certificate of authenticity. How can you go wrong?
Except of course, to 'win' that is.

Either way, its gonna find a new home with some blessed individual out there. All you have to do is write a short paragraph, with an accompanying visual, send it to stevil@swobo.com with 'why I deserve Stevils moustache' in the subject line, and if your entry is picked, you will soon own a little slice of history.

So on that note, Im gonna miss you all. I truly will.
Mostly.