Guitars, Cadillacs. Hillbilly Music...

You guys know that song?  Dwight Yoakam hit from the 80s.  Not sure why it popped into my head, but it was the best post title I could come up with this evening.

Winding out Sunday here in the office...watching Leige-Bastogne-Leige live on the net.  Long way to go in the race and wanted to catch up with yous guys.  Talking about bikes, I got a little over 50 miles under my belt yesterday.  Did 25 miles first thing in the morning with the local club.  Good ride and was able to mix it up a bit when it got "fast".  Feels good to hammer every now and then again.  Did 25 or so miles in the afternoon after washing clothes and picking groceries.  Had hoped to make it to Joondalup which is about 15 or 20 miles north of Perth, but didn't have the time and then I got nailed with two mechanicals on the way back...hopped a curb onto the road going down a hill and the chain wrapped around itself in two spots.  Got it fixed up pretty quickly, but not after getting my fingers loaded with chain lube...About 5 miles later I noticed my rear tire was low, but couldn't find any sign of a puncture...pumped it back up only to have to change the tube a mile later.  Spent half the time back off the bike!  Good practice.

So I've been going to a little church near the city called St. Brigid's.  St. Brigid's is an interesting parish with a small church and an ethnically diverse community. Fr. Alphonsus is Lebanese...There's a temporary priest who's from Indonesia and a visiting priest, Fr. Stanislaw stops by on Sundays...in addition to the regular English Masses they have Masses in Italian, Spanish, and Polish! Busy priests, indeed. I got up this morning debating what Mass to go to.  Yesterday I planned on hitting the 11:30 am Polish Mass at St. Brigids, but since I was up and raring to go by 7 am this morning, I thought of just hitting the English Mass and rolling with the rest of the day.  But, I stuck to my plan and made my way to the little church on the corner of Aberdeen and Fitzgereald. Memories of St. Casimir filled my mind when the opening hymn started.  I don't know a lick of Polish except for the likes of how to say "thank you", "grandma/grandpa", and "give me a kiss", but hearing it again in full-force like this morning was pretty cool.  The last time I heard Polish talked so much at one time, besides the occasional stop to Gene's Sausage Shop, was when my busia (boo-sha) and dziadzia (ja-joo, yeah, I know, how the heck do they get ja-joo from that, right?!?) (grandma and grandpa) would swear and argue with each other.  It was nice hear the Mass like that again after such a long time.  

 

Getting out on the bike has been a great way for me to experience the city and see things that I may have missed if I was driving in a car.  After being in town for about 2.5 weeks, I've mentally recorded several observations that I'll share with you:

• Traffic Lights...From what I can tell, there's no such thing as signal loops at the intersections...only timed lights.  This may be fine and dandy for rush hour traffic, but not so dandy for Saturday mornings.  On top of that, I think I've only hit two green lights in a row a time or two since I've been here.  Seems that the timing of the timing isn't dialed in too well.  Makes for a lot of stop and go when there's little or no traffic out.  On the plus side, I'm getting good at track stands.

• Tattoos...Whether walking through the mall, hanging out at the local bike shop, or reviewing project drawings at the office, I can't help but notice that a large number of people sport ink down here...not sure if it goes with the former penal colony mojo or what, but tats are really popular down here. Back in college when I was sporting 15 pounds more muscle, dreaming of a Harley, and listening to heavy metal on a frequent basis, a tattoo seemed like a great idea...now that I've shrunk, drive a little Mazda, and spend more time listening to Chopin rather than Pantera, a tat just doesn't make sense. 

• Subdivisions...Not a whole lot to say here except that once you get out of town a little ways, suburbia around Perth looks very similar to suburbia back home.  Subdivided neighborhoods...greenways and parks here and there, young couples pushing their children on swings, boats parked on trailers next to the garage.  Maybe not as many brick facades as you see in Chicagoland, but a familiar scene just the same.

• Cheddar Cheese...I've made a few grocery runs since I've been in town...no major shopping escapades as I buy only what I can fit in my backpack, but I've snooped around Woolworth's (not the old-school Chicago store) enough to notice that cheddar cheese is a rare item...at least the 2-lb bricks you can find back home. I was able to snag a small pack of cheddar the other day that I wound up taking to Nihal and Nisha's place for dinner this afternoon...but it took me two trips around the cheese island thingy at the store to find it.  Jarlsburg queso is popular here, so I've been giving it a go...not too bad.

• Store Hours...Now that the topic has migrated from traffic lights to stores, I've got to mention something about hours of operation here in town.  I'm not sure if this is an Australian-wide set up, but at least here in Perth, stores are mandated to be open only a limited number of hours a week.  That translates into a vast majority of stores closing at 5:30 pm every night except for Friday nights, where they're open until 9pm.  Makes running out for an emergency bar of soap or toothbrush difficult.  A jab at capitalism, I say!

• Anzac Day...From the Internet's number one information source, Wikipedia...Anzac Day is a national day of remembrance in Australia and New Zealand, and is commemorated by both countries on 25 April every year to honour members of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) who fought at Gallipoli in Turkey during World War I.  It now commemorates ANZAC's involvement in other campaigns in history.  I understand Anzac Day to be equivalent to our Memorial Day.  I, like a buffoon, got my days mixed up and missed the pre-dawn memorial service in Perth this morning.  Military history is something I eat up and to witness an ally's memorial celebration for their fallen heros...well, I feel I owe them my gratitude as well.  I regret not being there to watch the commemoration.

Just checked and there's fifty clicks to go in L-B-L...going to be a late night taking in the race, but that'll give me a chance to get a little work done.  7:30 am ride tomorrow with a fellow North American (a Canuck) named David that I met on the Saturday morning club ride.  Not sure where we're going, but I'm sure it'll be fun.  So with that, I'll leave you to the start of your Sunday.  Enjoy the rest of the weekend and have fun with family and friends today.

Peace and God bless.

Scotty