Get off my lawn!

I totally dropped off the face of the earth there, sorry about that. Went for a little R & R which included (somewhat involuntary) internet separation. I have this issue where if I get online I'm compelled to check my email, which could and probably does contain work related content. Ugh. Moving on.

Faithful readers know that in addition to my passion for knitting, I also am mildly obsessed with cycling (which is a fancy word cyclists use to describe riding their bikes. It makes them feel special). In the same vein, I'm also a big fan of the Bike Snob's blog. One of my (non-cyclist) buddies had the pleasure of seeing him speak on his book tour and was awesome enough to get me a signed copy of his book. I've been reading bits and pieces of it since (it's a fabulous bathroom read--small sections, entertaining pictures).

A chapter that caught my eye was titled "Subsets of Cyclists". I was confident that there wouldn't be a category that I really fit into. Roadie? No, not dedicated enough. Mountain biker? No, I try, but it usually seems to end with a lot of screaming like a girl. Triathlete? NO. Cyclocrosser, no, Urban Cyclist, no, Retro-Grouch, n--waitaminute. My brow furrowed as I read the description. The upshot was - "Loves anything tried and true, sometimes to the point of not accepting new technology for years." Main points: "Hates anything carbon fiber, loves steel anything. Loudly claims that carbon fiber will fail catastrophically." Well, IT WILL. Another facet of the retro-grouch is their tendency to scoff at trendy upstarts.

The more I thought about it, the more this description seemed to apply to other parts of my life. Over the 4th of July weekend, I went with some buddies to see a Dave Matthews Band concert. One of my coworkers scoffed, "What are you, in high school?" Yes, I did like Dave in high school, but things have changed a little since then...

This is the Dave Matthews of my high-school era:



Aaaaand this is Dave now:



Balding and somewhat bloated. Not that he didn't still put on a bitchin' good show. But again, I was going with the tried and true. What I apparently didn't remember were the copious amounts of weed that are smoked at Dave's concerts, and I found myself wanting to chastise all of the partying youngsters with a shake of my fist and an admonition to "Get off my lawn, pot-heads!" Apparently that's where the 'grouch' in the term comes in, but I restrained myself.

And I'm pretty sure that's why I like to knit so much. It's been around for hundreds of years and is still pretty darn useful. Sure, there was that nålbinding crap, but who has the time to put that little circle over the 'a' anyway? I'll stick with my two needles thank you very much. If that makes me a retro-grouch, then I proudly accept it.