Customer Service

Three cheers for Kryptonite Customer Service.

Not the speediest in the world, but they sent me a new lock and a reimbursement for the locksmith after I wrote them a snippy letter about how it was their fault their keys snap off in their locks, and not the fact that I'd had 6 beers in four hours and was unlocking my bike in an altered state. I guess they've kept me as a customer and here I am giving them free advertising, so it's probably worth the 100 bucks or so to them.

Maybe if I get drunk and break a Colnago I could get a brand new bike too?

Vestigial Trolley Rails

Are my new enemy.

Die Hard 4 is filming in Baltimore and that may not have been the reason traffic was backed up on Guilford this morning, but backed-up it was and I sailed up the line of cars to Pleasant Street like the badass I secretly am.

At Pleasant and Guilford there was a jam, so I eased in around cars and, blocked off from my favorite side of the road (left), I went for the middle. Where the trolley rails are.

Of course I was not PERPENDICULAR to these wheeltrapsofdeath and of course I got stuck and fell slowly to my right. A bus driver exclaimed 'Oh My!' as I righted myself and reversed direction towards the safety of the rail-less left side of the street.

Thank god traffic wasn't moving and I was going slowly and I was on the Nishiki, which allows me lickity-split dismounting (no toe clips!). Otherwise it would have been curtains for me.

Those of you who've been to Baltimore may be wondering - "Trolleys? I ain't never seen no trolleys there!" Well you're right! There are NO TROLLEYS. Nothing uses those tracks anymore. They exist purely to KILL CYCLISTS. Honestly. I wouldn't hate 'em so much if they were being used for public transportation.

A Nobel Prize doesn't make you smart

This morning, eating my Raisin Bran, I noticed that Becker and Posner had blogged about the WHO's recent DDT announcement. Becker is a Nobel Prize-winning economist at U Chicago, which is bursting at the seams with smart economists. You may have heard of a certain Steven Leavitt, for example, who wrote a pretty good book called Freakonomics.

Posner is a judge on the 7th Circuit Court of Appeals and lectures at the UChicago Law School. He's lately a wackjob, advocating all kinds of torture in the name of national security, and Becker is known to be fairly ruthless in his reasoning (as one of the leaders in economics of population growth and fertility). But I was astounded by the level of ignorance they displayed while writing on this topic. Becker refers to the WTO, not the WHO, for starters, and it gets worse. Thankfully someone's already done my work for me, so you can read the full ass-whuppin' here at Tim Lambert's blog.

I'm all for DDT as part of a balanced approach to malaria control. Combined with long-lasting treated nets (LLINs) and effective treatment, it can reduce malaria to near-undetectable levels. But it's not a magic bullet; it's not effective in all climate zones, it requires an enormous amount of logistical coordination to undertake effectively. The people who think it's the answer to all our malaria woes are underinformed or worse, willfully blind. The WHO knows all this which is why they've been using it for years, and why the ban on DDT never applied to its use in malaria control programs. If you spray it over cotton and tobacco fields, it'll mess up your ecosystem. If you spray it inside houses in small quantities every 6 months, you'll prevent a lot of cases. But when people get sick they still need effective treatment.

Indoor Residual Spraying (IRS) with DDT costs about 40 bucks per disability-adjusted life year (DALY) saved. LLINs cost about 20 bucks, and artemisinin combination therapy (ACT), the best medicine we have right now, is around 12 bucks. This is from Morel's 2005 article Cost-Effectiveness of Malaria Interventions. You know, if you want to make an economic argument with some good facts.

Free Weekend

Virgin Fest was this weekend, over 12 hours of pop music, drunk folks, lame t-shirts and people watching. I got a pair of volunteer passes from Johanna at MPIRG, so Nate and I tabled for the city smoking ban from 10-3 in full view of the main stage, then went off to fully rock out. I guess all together I saw Kasabian, Wolfmother, The Raconteurs; Brazilian Girls, Gnarls Barkley, Scissor Sisters, The Who, The Flaming Lips, and the last two songs of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The Raconteurs were excellent and I'm excited to see them for real with Bob Dylan in November. Drive By Truckers played the first slot and I snuck away from our booth for 15 minutes to see them put on their now-standard performance, which for the uninitiated or die-hard fan is a hard-rocking show. Unfortunately it was noon and I wasn't prepared to rock and donc, found them lackluster. I had a great time at their show a month ago in DC so I slipped away to safeguard that memory rather than witness a less-than-stellar gig.

I spent 17 bucks on the cab to Pimlico and nothing else the entire weekend. We got free lunch for volunteering and I scored water from Nate and one drink from Allison and Darien, who worked magic with factory-sealed water bottles, knives, ziplock bags and lighters and brought in enough booze to kill a horse. How Ali was still dancing at the end of the night having eaten and drunk nothing but vodka and diet Pepsi I will never know; I was impressed. I couldn't really get into the festival even after my shift was done and ended up wandering, lone-wolf style, from stage to stage, avoiding pukers and Bill Gates lookalikes.

[As I'm searching my bag for my schedule]
Bill Gates: "Hey, you got a piece of gum in there?"
Me: "No, sorry."
Bill: "Aw, too bad, cuz I ate this onion and pepper pizza and my breath is pretty bad right now,"

That might be the worst pickup line I've ever heard.

I talked to the Roller Girls whose booth was two away from us, and they recruited me for tryouts after I revealed I'd played hockey. Later on in the evening they waved hello to me which totally appealed to my inner middle-school student (the cool girls said hi!). Not sure I have the time or funds to put towards this activity (other things would have to move, like climbing or the bike coop), but since I already have my rollergirl name (Chrome Molly) and number (103) I am tempted to hit up Play It Again Sports for some old school skates and give it a try.

To pass the time Nate and I created a ladder of tshirt coolness:
5 (least cool) - Virginfest tshirt
4 - Band tshirt (if the band is playing at Vfest it's a high 4) or college tshirt, or brandname tshirt (except Old Navy, which is a 5)
3 - slogans
2 - clever slogans (I didn't think these existed and that all slogans were inherently tacky, but Nate disagreed) or kitschy tshirts (Seseme Street, for example)
1 (most cool) - cool designs that I did not recognize. Small monsters, or a line drawing of an owl, no words allowed. If I know what you're trying to associate yourself with, it's not cool.

We gave an exemption to kids under 15 because their enthusiasm is cute even if their clothing isn't.

By the end of the night I was dog tired from being on my feet for over 12 hours. The Flaming Lips guy made his entrance in a huge plastic bubble which he rolled over the crowd. I ran into James from Lake Trout but did not say hi to the rest of the band (Biggest Error of the The Night). The Who were good, everyone was good, but I just didn't have the werewithal to fully enjoy myself. If I had paid the 100 bucks for the ticket I'm pretty sure I would have had a better time, according to behavioral theory. But for 17 bucks I cannot complain.

Today I went with Allison and Darien and their friends Corn(elia) and Matt to the O's/Twins game, which was company organized. So we got free tix and free lunch (bbq beef mmm). O's put together a rally late in the game, thanks to Tejada's two solo homers, but then the rain hit and we left. They lost the game, the last one of the season. Tant pis.

The One That Got Away Comes Back!

The dude that won the PR10 auction didn't want it!

So I get it!

This is f'n awesome.

PLUS

It's in Flushing.

Which is in New York.

So I can Pick It Up.

And.....
I won some Wilco tickets.
And.....
I scored a sweet parking space very late last night when I thought I would surely be mugged as a result of having to park far away from the apartment.
And.....
Dan Bern was lovely. Epiphany was there. Also Nick, Johanna, Nick's mom, Chris and Elizabeth. Out of the 50 people in the crowd, I would estimate 30 were completely raptured. I was gently heckled for sitting in the balcony but held my ground with one raised eyebrow and a Gabo lip-pout.

New LeCarré

Hot dawg.

I checked the LeCarré website a few weeks ago thinking jeez oh man he MUST have a new book out. But nothing!

So then my pops tells me last night that lordamercy John is back with a tale of darkest Congo, interpreters, coups, the whole shebang, and it is getting good reviews (as usual). I mean, what else would you expect from the Leading Spy Novelist of All Time (sorry Graham Greene)?


So here it is, I promise not to read it until I next get to New York. Hopefully the movie they make out of it won't be as awful as The Constant Gardener - gah. I was terribly underimpressed. Tessa was much less annoying in the novel and Ralph Fiennes' character was much more interesting.

J-Co, if you are reading, get this book. You'll enjoy it.

The One That Got Away

A 70's PR10 frameset, white, perfect size, great condition - and cheap! I mis-bid and lost it. Oh well. Now I can waste more time searching for my elusive orange PR10/PX10 and save up money to finance it.

Have been diggin' SF Weekly's "Ask A Track Bike" column. Only four issues but good laughs to be had. People in San Francisco are so...pointue.

Did some lead climbing last night and am more-or-less certified. This rules. Too bad my hands hurt like hell today.

She's Up

www.fixedgeargallery.com. #3,900.

Aw yeah.

More exciting news later...we may be expanding the family.

My Weekend Kicks Your Weekend's Butt

Too much fun.

On Friday I went down to DC for the WHO press conference announcing their 'new' stance on DDT, which is the same as their old stance - it's good when used for indoor residual spraying (IRS). The reporters shanghai'd the discussion and turned it into the environmentalist/safety debate, but most of the resulting articles were pretty well balanced and used Kochi Arata's only comprehensible quote, "DDT will help us save African babies."

Can't argue with that one.

Because I had to get back to catch my bus for New York I skipped the Global Health Council meeting - no huge loss as most of the key people are in Dakar for the World Bank Booster meeting. It was fun roaming around DC hobnobbing, and I even got to do a little investigative journalism of my own with a friend over on the Hill. Caught the MARC back to Baltimore, took a taxi home, researched, packed, and hopped on my bike (the Nishiki, after all) and got down to the Liberty Street bus stop in the pouring rain. I expected a large bus but what rolled up was a 15 passenger van - the shuttle to the Travel Plaza where we would board the big bus. Hm. No room in back for my bike. No rack on top I could bungee it to. Que faire? Fortunately the driver is Chinese, i.e. not American, i.e. resourceful, and we took the front wheel off and slid it into the narrow space next to the door. Some girl's mom called and she said "Hey mom, I'm in this van going to New York, there's like 16 people AND A BIKE," and everyone cracked up.

We get out and board the real bus. I am still pretty soaking wet from the ride down. I eat a Luna bar and read the New Yorker article on Neuroeconomics and most of the one on Clinton, which is remarkably long-winded and not very informative.

Arriving in New York I disembark and hail a taxi. The bike (still in two parts) disappears into the cavernous trunk. Ten bills later I am at 72nd and Columbus right near where John Lennon was shot and Yoko still lives, and Matt meets me. Have not seen the dude for a year and a half and damn did we have a great night, as always. Except that I forget to eat in my excitement and rue my decision the next morning as I struggle for energy. At least I remembered to take my contacts out.

Saturday morning I take the bike on the subway, following NYC bike policy (use the service gate; stay at the end of the car; wait for crowds to clear before using stairs etc). Five people ask me for directions as I walk it down to NYU. Duh! No one from out of town would have a bike in the city. Ha. Plus I have my permanant air of helpfulness about me. I meet up with A and we take his new fixie and my Nishiki out for a little jaunt.

Let me just say that biking in New York is AWESOME. Cars are used to you, there are even bike lanes, more or less, and potholes are few and far between. Basically the opposite of Charm City.

We head up to Central Park to boulder, eat hot dogs, ride around, and wear ourselves out before meeting up with department people for cheap-ass sushi in the East Village. I am the only American at the table and the only non-economist; however, I get bonus points for being my father's daughter, especially as one of the guys actually understands what he does. Cool!

The economists go off to see Little Miss Sunshine and we grab a drink at a too-cool-for-school sake bar, then call it a night. Sunday we head to Brooklyn via the East River bike path (all I could think is this is where they toss the bodies) and the WTC site. Taking the car ramp up the Brooklyn Bridge turns out to be NotSmart, so we cheat death and cross the freeway to get back down to the bike/pedestrian lane. Plans to check out Prospect Park are thwarted by the very entertaining Atlantic Avenue festival, which has DJs and soul bands and drumlines and waaay too many potters and t-shirt manufacturers. Brooklyn has more fixies than Manhattan and also more charm. Or perhaps I mean trees. The correlation between these three things is pretty strong, but, I suspect, confounded by an unknown fourth variable.

We head back over the Manhattan Bridge, which I like less than the Brooklyn but only for its large, regular gaps between pavement slabs. A kicks beaucoup ass with the fixie and navigates us back without a hitch, in time to pack up my stuff and roll up to Macy's to catch the bus. Which I nearly miss because I wait across the street, bien sur. No clue if it will drop me downtown or if I will be biking home from the Travel Plaza at 10pm - fortunately, there is the same 15 passenger van minus 10 passengers and so plenty of room for me and the Nishiki. Back at Liberty Street I saddle up and ride home, cursing the potholes and my overstuffed backpack and scary Baltimore traffic, exhausted from the weekend in the best possible way.

Putain

Je n'ai pas pu acheter les billets pour le concert de Wilco aujourd'hui; tous etaient vendus en moins de 10 minutes.

Putain merde!

Les salopes sont en train de les vendre à cent dollars sur ebay et craigslist. Deux cent le pair. Moi, je pourrais payer autant, mais le probleme c'est trouver un compagnon qui ferait pareil - ou bien, subventionner le billet (mais à combien? Est-ce qu'on lui dit le vrai prix, ou seulement ce qu'il veut croire qu'il vaut?). Surtout que je ne paie rien pour ce Virginfest le weekend prochain, je suis prete à payer un prix enorme pour ce concert, qui sera inoubliable, petit, intime. A Telluride j'étais devant mais l'energie dans les montagnes, avec tant d'espace et le ciel dessus, etait dispersé. Au 9:30 nous serons tous coincé, on partage les inspirations, la seuer, et l'électricité va couler les uns aux autres, y compris les musiciens.

Donc, une autre décision à prendre.

Conundrum

Yesterday I rode the fixie to work. I got downtown and noticed something wasn't quite right down in the cranks. Got out the allen wrenches and set to tightening the cranks as they can often get a little loose.

It wasn't the cranks.

The fixed cup had come loose. My fixed cup spanner was at home. I continued to work, cautiously. Sean didn't have a wrench but it turned out I could hand tighten the thing enough to get it to the LBS where Beth let me borrow a spanner. I should probably put some locktite on that sucker next time this happens. It's disconcerting to be all wobbly down there.

Hopped on the Nishiki this evening just to make sure it was in good shape, but it felt broken when I coasted (what is all this spinning?). So I'm leaning, at the moment, towards taking Miss P to NYC tomorrow evening, despite certain embarassment of prolonged scraping of toeclips along the street. The Nishiki is not at all lacking in style, don't get me wrong. Hopefully tonight when insomnia strikes I will figure this one out. It's coming down to safety vs. style, or, alternatively, adventure vs. fear. We know how those battles always turn out.

Not Dead!

I commuted to work today on the fixie and didn't die.

I even did a good job with the toe clips, after practicing last night.

More good news - Floyd Landis looks to have a strong case for dismissal.

And for all my grouching about having to obtain Maryland residency so I could have my car registered here, I went and voted in the Democratic primary this morning. This was the first time I'd voted in the States since the 2000 election. Rah rah, civic duty, hooray.

I think my favorite vote was still the 2004 election when Bob and I were commanded to go to the embassy in Bamako and not worry about mosquito nets for a couple hours by our Senegalese director. "Go be citizens!" she said. "I can't vote, so take the morning and go do your duty." We sat for a while in the waiting room with all the Malians trying to get visas, while Mary Beth gleefully received our ballots from behind the bullet-proof glass. A woman next to me peered over at my absentee ballot, the punch kind, and asked what I was doing. "Je vote!" I said. "Ah, c'est bien, voter c'est bien," she replied.

Yeah, voting is good. I guess. I'm just not quite ready to be a real Marylander yet.

Bob Dylan at our Family Reunion

My mom is visiting DC and Baltimore in November for the annual Slavic History meeting (or something). Bob Dylan is playing the same weekend (Friday) in Fairfax. Perfect! I email her this and she writes back:

"It is SO tempting, but I actually have to participate in sessions Friday late and evening. So sorry!"

This is bullshit and I tell her that.

In the meantime I pull Dad in, as he is doing nothing that weekend and might as well fly out to hang out with me and Mom and Bob, and Ede's family. Mom reevaluates her priorities (and her schedule) and discovers she is done with sessions at 6:30. Brilliant! "COUNT ME IN!" she says. Only fitting for a woman who was first in line to buy the new album from the Moscow books and music store, Pages.

So Dad will fly in on Friday and I'll pick him up, go meet up with Mom somehow, see Bob, hang out in DC, then everyone comes back to Baltimore Sunday and we dine chez Edith, two big happy families, and then we do touristy Balto stuff Monday before their flight back. Perfect!

Two Bikes

I picked the Nishiki up from Chuck on Tuesday. He'd ground the U-lock off, apparently it took 15 seconds but made the shop smell like burning plastic for an hour. Got my copies of my receipts and put the lock in the mail to Kryptonite this afternoon, so we will see what I get back from them. Hopefully, full reimbursement for the locksmith and a new lock.

The Nishiki is none the worse for wear, a couple bangs on the decals on the drive side but I put her back together and it's just like old times again. Haven't commuted on Miss P yet but soon...very soon.

Next up: repacking the Maillard hubs, taking off the freewheel and redishing and respacing, and trading stems, bars, brake levers and toe clips with Dad. He got me a Rivendell membership, and I am eyeing this burrito tool bag. Totally old school.

Fully Operational

She's done!

Saturday evening I took Miss P for her first ever ride as a fixie. Thanks to Tim et al. at Light Street and Christian, Beth and Sean at Velocipede, and Edith, Nick, Johanna, Sean, Nick and Alistair for the moral support.

Tomorrow I probably won't commute on her but I will try to ride to the climbing wall and Dizzy's after work to show her off to the gang. I think she looks like a little punk, a little 70's French vixen. There's a couple things I'd like to do in the handlebar/stem area to spruce her up even nicer, but that's for later. Right now I get to fall in love with her all over again.

And learn to trackstand.

March Madness for Malaria

Not entirely sure how this will work, but Lance Laifer is kind of kooky (he runs Hedgefunds for Malaria, very pro-DDT). To begin with, it's March Madness style, but you are competing for the Malaria Cup (hello, department of mixed metaphors!). Any money and any publicity that raises awareness for malaria is good, though, and we'll keep a close eye on how they use the funds. So far he's got about 1000 people signed up.

I like Rick Reilly's Nothing But Nets campaign better. Probably because he's a much better writer and his website makes more sense. If only we could get the NCAA to donate a net for every point scored in the March Tournament - what a great lead-up to Africa Malaria Day (April 25)! According to my calculations, you'd get around 9,000 nets (at a cost of $90,000 bucks). Kinda weak, actually, but perhaps the publicity would be worth it?

Favorite Papers

This week The Malaria Joural published an article by some researchers at The Wellcome Trust that I found really interesting. It's called Rethinking the economic costs of malaria at the household level: Evidence from applying a new analytical framework in rural Kenya. The team looked at cost data on treatment seeking, burden and coping strategies during the wet and dry seasons over a year, and also followed 15 households to collect qualitative data. Unfortunately no significant different was found between mean direct cost burdens (i.e. the percentage of household income they spent on malaria) in the wet and dry season, although illness and income do vary with the seasons. The main variable was vulnerability - the ability of the household to cope with malaria episodes and other shocks. Unsurprisingly, wealthier households were better able to cope, but poorer ones descended further into poverty, spending up to a third of their income on malaria treatments.

If you would like a brief summary, there's a 10 slide powerpoint presentation available too.

Another Freakonomics-y article I remember from a few months back: correlation of girl's toilets to number of girls enrolled in schools in rural africa. It was in The New York Times but you can read the full article here.