Beaujolais Nouveau

I remember in college discovering the beaujolais nouveau -- the November bottles of that year's wine. We (my roommate Jay and I) felt quite in the know to be tasting Georges DuBoeuf when it first hit the shelves. I do think I must have realized then that the primary attraction was the artistic label.

I got a bottle last week for the sake of nostalgia, and now I wonder what it was we liked. While this would go well over lettuce with olive oil and salt, it's not much for drinking.

Apologies for going off topic, but I'm staying off my feet for a couple of weeks. Maybe my next post will be a discourse on the mint- and peanut butter-flavored Oreos that have been on sale at the grocers recently.

In Praise of the First Sale Doctrine

Much of intellectual property law (and life itself as depicted in the late 90s Broadway musical Rent) seems to be devoted to pushing us from an ownership society to a licensing society, particularly for information. If we complete the move to a download nation for music, entertainment, and information generally, we lose the ability to control the further disposition of the physical property of the CDs, books, newspapers, and other hard copies that contain the media in question. Its one of the many reasons, I have resisted the Kindle so far. Plus I just like to browse actual CDs and books in actual stores, although that is getting more and more difficult.

The first sale doctrine is a slender legal reed to resist the tsunami of legal, technological, and economic forces leading to the ascendancy of the digital download and the restrictive license but ts still a good one. I love sharing books with friends. I love even more heading to Reckless Records (made famous in the film High Fidelity) and trading in my no longer wanted (or uploaded without restriction) CDs, DVDs, and even video tapes to emerge with some used treasure to add to my permanent collection. Yesterday was such a day where unwanted showtunes, older items from my daughter's collection, and other just plain lame CDs amounted to $26 in trade, and only a few dollars more got me the entire series of The Prisoner, possibly the most visionary television show of all time. It might even be a metaphor to what happens if "they" get "their" way and the first sale doctrine completely is swamped by contractual and legal restrictions on the right to buy stuff and dispose of it as we please.

Too much food, too much pain . . .

Well, Thanksgiving was wonderful.  The whole family got together on Martha's Vineyard.  The turkey was local and very tasty.  Then, since we were all together, we celebrated Chanukah on Friday.  So, between the turkey and the latkes, the last remnants of my fitness dribbled away.  I thought about going running, but my heel was stubbornly out of sorts.  The only exercise I mustered was 1500 yards in the pool . .  Hopefully this is a "bottom."  Time to start clawing my way back for some winter races .. .

Turkey Trotting

The good news is that the weather held and the race went off on a muddy 40 degree day but with no rain. More good news, I finished in the top third of the 8K race and the top third of my age bracket. The bad news is that the race now has over 7000 runners and walkers and seemingly made no effort to separate the two groups. I spent way too much time and effort dodging runners, walkers, mud holes, and runners who stopped mid stream in front of water pools. Time was way behind my 10K pace off a couple of weeks ago. Also finished about 30 seconds behind a 9 year old which kind of hurt.

Now off to turkey and ham at my sister-in-law's home. Already foresee awesome nap later in the day. Happy holidays!

Tortoises and Hares

I had an inauspicious start with a weak stomach preventing my absorbing any nutrition. The bottom came in the fifth hour, when I swapped leads with a woman wearing a hula skirt. Many times I nearly quit, and I might have, had a low moment arrived when I was near an exit point - but luckily enough, I always felt strong at the aid stations.

I went to a 8'/2' run/walk cycle, with the idea that forcing the walking when I didn't need it kept me from collapsing into a walk when I wanted to be running. I dropped all nutrition but coke, gel and electrolyte tablets. My stomach came back and I started moving. I could tell it was getting better when it was all I could do to keep up the 2' walk; at about mile 38 I went to a 9'/1' cycle, and at mile 42 I was running steadily.

Then it got really fun. Usually I'm the guy getting passed by the more careful runners, who hold something in reserve for a strong finish. I can't claim any higher maturity yesterday, as it was illness that kept me slow in the first half, but I did reap the benefits. The guys and gals I had seen go by over the last 42 miles were coming back in a steady stream.

With a mile to go one guy passed me, running really strong. I tried to give chase but settled for sitting 50 yards back. When we rounded the corner where the course marshall said 800m to go, I realized there was more in the tank. We finished in a jumble, he first, a (52 year old!) woman next and me just after her. I was off goal by 21 minutes, but 35 minutes better than the last time. And kind of like an awful trip to the links that ends with a birdie, my recollection of the race could not be rosier.

Earning the Nap

A clean crisp 42 degree day, bright sunshine with a bit of a breeze. I did a fast 7 miles past the golf course, around the harbor, through the nature preserve, and out to the end of Montrose pier and back. Half the time the wind held me back, half the time it pushed me on. In true Chicago style that was not the case one way or the other, but almost randomly no matter which way I was running. Back home once stretched and showered I was enveloped in that feeling that means oncoming nap. Not your average paltry 30 nap inadequate catnap but the mind numbing 90 minute stunner when you are dead to the world and rather unclear where and when you are upon awaking. 60ish tomorrow, but can't wait for the next chance to break out the gloves and extra layer and go for the burn (or nap).

Could be Perfect

The weather report calls for 61 degrees and mostly sunny tomorrow in the region around Boonesboro, Maryland. It is hard to imagine better conditions for a long run. The JFK kicks off at 7 a.m. and, if things go according to plan, by 3 p.m. I'll be eating pizza and cheering others across the finish line. Of course, there are many, shall I say, "variable expenses" in an 8-hour day.