RIP

Conquista, a 1985 El Camino.

Known lovingly as “the mullet of cars” and described playfully as “brown and light brown,” the dual purpose car/truck had been feeling ill as of late. She provided great service to her owners throughout her lifetime, all the while getting pretty decent gas mileage and more than ample leg room. Road trips were taken. Objects were hauled. Cassette tapes were jammed. Her greatest joy came late in life as the managing partner of El Camino Lawn Service, a short lived but profitable business venture that she described as “probably the reason I was invented in the first place. I can haul two mowers and a weed eater, but I’m not so high off the ground that you can’t lift things into me.” She also fondly recalled once hauling a new refrigerator for a friend, only to have it fall over in her bed halfway to their destination.


Several recent instances of non-routine maintenance led to the decision to have open hood surgery. After 2 days with her hood wide open, Conquista took a turn for the worst when the mechanic (sniff) was unable to provide engine heat displacement, despite his best efforts. Things were going well until the head gasket cracked and the patients steam sprayed everywhere, it looked like a war scene in the operating lot. The team of one attempted last second resuscitation until it was noted that the steam was also coming out of her tailpipe, described by experts as “the automobile kiss of death.” Time of death was reported at 817pm last night. Services were held in a private ceremony last night in my driveway, attended only by myself, a socket set, and a headlamp. There will be a constant viewing at 19th and McKinley until a proper burial place can be found. Our thoughts and prayers go to the owner.

Lovingly, Russ

“Rest well Conquista, you will be missed.”

Mud Water Triathlon

My first real triathlon race was last weekend at Lake Afton, near Goddard, Kansas. It was a sprint triathlon, which is the shortest distance, and included a 750 meter swim, followed by a 15 mile bike, followed by a three mile run. I was confident about the bike and run after my duathlon went so well but was pretty nervous about the swim. I train the least on swimming when I should probably train on it the most. I had never actually swam 750 meters straight in my life. The most I had done in training was about 500 meters.

I actually ended up kicking some serious butt on the swim. I think it was a combination of nerves and competitive spirit swimming next to so many people. Open water swims are much different than swimming laps in a pool. Pools are nice a calm and you have your own lane and its all very peaceful. Open water swims are in choppy lakes that sometimes have currents and you have to deal with other athletes swimming all around and sometimes on top of you. It is all very chaotic.



So I took off on the swim and kept trying to tell myself to slow down and get my pace but my body wasn't listening and I ended up in the top 10 or 15 coming out of the water. I swallowed about half of the lake and was a bit woozy headed to my bike but confidence was high. I got on my bike and headed out on the road for the 15 mile loop and I could tell that I was pushing hard because I wanted to stay towards the front of the pack. I was feeling great and making great time.

About half a mile into the course, my front tire blew out. Not just the tube, but the whole side of the tire. I immediately thought my race was over because I didn't have a spare tube or tire with me. I didn't really know what I was going to do when I got there but I decided to grab my bike and jog back to the transition area (the place you change shoes and everything between events, as fast as you can). Carrying a bike on your shoulder for half a mile in cycling shoes will wear you out almost as much as swimming 750 meters as fast as you can. When I got back I spotted the guy from a local bike shop who had been doing maintenance on bike before the race. I looked at him and said "I had a blowout!" and he quickly jumped up and changed my tube and tire for me. Overall I lost about 20 minutes between running back with my bike and getting the tire changed, but I decided to finish the race anyway. I had come this far and I still wanted to see how I would hold up. So I started over on the bike and managed to have a decent time if you take away the 20 minute delay.

After the bike I slipped on my runners and took off for the 3 mile loop. I did pretty good on that but I could tell I wasnt running my best since there was no one around me to race. I was way in the back with all the really slow people by that point so it was hard to push myself too much. Plus, that blowout had a serious negative affect on my psyche. I was pretty down, especially since I had done so well on the swim and was feeling good.

Anyway, I finished and afterwards I felt good. Physically I was tired but not dead. I felt pretty good about finishing the race and not quitting because of some bad luck, which I hope I got out of the way for future races.

Next race is mid August in Edmond, Ok. This one is the olympic distance: 1500m swim, 25 mile bike, 6 mile run. Which reminds me, I need to go work out!

a new expensive hobby

I guess I thought photography wasn't draining my bank account fast enough so I picked up another, more athletic hobby: triathlons. I've always wanted to do one since I got out of college sports and this summer I began training for my first race.

Triathlons are multisport races in which you swim, bike, and run, in that order. It takes hours and hours of training per week in all three disciplines and, like most hobbys, gets expensive. You always want to best running shoes, better components for your bike, gadgets, clothes, etc. Not to mention that you actually have to pay to enter these races. Some of the longer ones are several hundred dollars just to race. And I won't win. Ever.

My first race was actually a duathlon, which is only running and biking. The event I did was a 2 mile run, followed by a 14 mile bike, followed by another 3 mile run. I wasn't able to train for it as much as I'd liked but was able to put in a strong effort and did reasonably well for my first race. My times were decent in all three parts and I finished 8th in my age group out of about 20 competitors. Not too bad considering I had trained less than most. So I decided to keep going and buy more stuff and pay more entry fees....

Crap.

I got robbed, literally

I don't update my blog much because nothing exciting ever happens to me anymore, especially compared to everything below. But, I did get robbed which is both exciting and incredibly frustrating.

Someone broke in to my apartment and made off with my computer (ouch!), my TV (eh...), two ipods (double ouch!), and a digital camera (but not the good one). They also took some clothes (who else wears 32x62 jeans and extra medium shirts?) and my big backpack that took me all over Europe (sentimental tear).

They got in in the middle of the day, in broad daylight, with a screwdriver. How clever. Then they tried to get in again two days later and then a third time 3 days after that. Why? I dont know. I don't have much left that's worth stealing. My guess is that they were trying to get in to my apartment in order to get in to my neighbor's apartment, which they got in to the first time but got spooked before they got all his goods.

Do I have renters insurance? No. I have always had it but I never got it here once I got back from Ireland. Of course I never needed it when I had it and got robbed the first time I went without it. I am, after all, Russ Cornelius...

el camino lawn service

so, I sort of accidentally started a lawn mowing business...

first of all you should know that a few weeks ago I bought a 1985 El Camino. you know, the mullet of cars. business up front, party in the back. it's two beautiful shades of brown and runs like a dream. a car with a truck bed, the best of both worlds.

part two of this story is that i live in a loft above the garage of a duplex and the whole lot is up for sale. i have noticed over the last few days that the grass long overdue for a trim. the property manager is a guy named darrel who comes by to show the place to prospective buyers every couple of weeks. last saturday he came by to show the place and i was just leaving as he was arriving. i casually mentioned that if he needs someone to mow the lawn next time before a showing to let me know. i'm thinking, "i have this sweet El Camino, my buddy has a mower, i load up the mower in the El Camino, badaboom badabing, i could make a few bucks easy." so he replies that they do have a kid who does it but he obviously hasnt shown up in a while and if he doesnt show up in a day or two, the job is mine. PS we have another property down the street and you can do that one too.

two days later darrel calles me back and says to get started on the lawns, mow them every 10 days, $25 bucks a piece, and he'll probably be able to find me some more. so i call brandon and explain that i accidentally started a lawn service even though i dont own one single piece of lawn equipment. oops. no problem.

i make a deal with brandon that i will mow his yard for free if i can borrow his mower and weedeater. yesterday was my first day in business and I made $50 in 3 hours. darrel has already lined me up a hedge trimming gig as soon as this lady calls me back. i dont own hedge trimmers. irrelevant.

i have three more potential customers from the restaurant just by telling this story yesterday. several people say they mow their own lawns but are interested if i go topless. i need a tan anyway, win-win. lawns do not acknowledge the recession and continue to grow at an alarming rate. at this growth rate i'm going to have to bring in a partner and i might be looking at early retirement. who knew you could start a lawn mowing business with just an El Camino and a smile? i did. cha ching!

nothing to blog about

i have nothing to blog about. my life went from 90 to nothing in 2 point nothing. i need an adventure!

The Valentine Sham

Today is Valentine's Day as you all well know, and again, intentionally, I am single. I make a lot of jokes about this day every year and most people think I'm bitter, which is not the case. I think the idea of Valentine's Day is nice enough. Expressing love and giving gifts and all that is worth doing...

Did you know that Valentine's Day was originally a pagan holiday and that it was renamed after Christian martyrs named Valentine, of which there are actually several. In fact, until the late 1960's, the Catholic church officially recognized 11 Valentine's Days. These days were celebrated for centuries with no romantic cues attached. It wasn't until America got a hold of it that it became the second largest card sending day of the year behind Christmas, though it was done in England before that only to a lesser extent. Now there are around a billion Valentine's Day cards sent each year worldwide. How much is a card? $2? $3? How much for the giant ones? Those are hilarious. As technology continues to increase in popularity, ecards are robbing Hallmark stores and saving some trees. I'm all for it. My favorite ecard site is terribly inappropriate and has the tag line "when you care enough to hit send."

Once greeting cards were regarded as the thing to do on Valentine's, all the other industries decided to get a piece of the action. Florists got it, then the candy people, and finally the diamond industry. It's become quite popular to propose on Valentine's Day, which I think is about as unoriginal as a guy can get. The restaurant where I work is completely booked for tonight and I expect at least one proposal.

Money money money. And don't forget sex. Dig deep enough in of all this Valentine's Day madness and you will find sex at the root of it all. It may have started out harmless enough, with the idea being to show love and maybe send a little note to show it, but modern Valentine's Day is all about sex. I see the commercials and I wish one of them would just come out and say, "Buy here these (flowers, candies, stuffed anteaters, jewels, BMW's, etc) and there is a better chance that she will want to have sex with you! Tonight!"

The sad thing is that billions of dollars worth of men fall for this. Or they date shallow enough women that it rings true! It's also sad that women come to expect these things on Valentine's Day and can become furious if the traditions are not kept. I've witnessed this. Don't ask.

To women on Valentine's Day I say this:
1. Do you really want your man to be a mindless drone and follow the prompts of our disparaged society and buy you some useless crap, that same useless crap that he buys you every year and that all your previous boyfriends have bought you and that thousands of other guys are buying their women at this exact moment?
*To 80% of women*
2. Really? You do? Crap. I thought I had something there. You're shallow.
3. It's a day of showing love. It goes both ways. We don't want crap either. We already have ten pairs of boxers with hearts on them and those chocolate things give us gas. On that note, spare boxers may not be a bad idea.

And to my brothers on Valentine's Day I say this:
Walk past the heart shaped candy boxes and the cheap roses and stuffed carnivores and shiny sex bribes and think of something unique to show your love. Chances are if it has a heart on it, you are going in the wrong direction. Buy her a flower that you know she likes and you didnt have to ask her about. You should know this. DO SOMETHING with her. I can't believe you havent realized this yet! They want you to go to a show of some kind or take dance lessons or go to a winery together. You don't even have to spend a lot of money. How about a picnic or just staying at home and cooking? Some married friends of mine are going to stay home and roll their own sushi together. This is the key word, together. Dont send her to a spa by herself. Thought about going to the spa with her? Couples massage? Cha-ching. That's a win-win!

You know what else really grinds my gears? That people (men) think they can get away with things like this only once a year. It's like a get out of jail free card of sorts. By creating a holiday where we HAVE to do it, we've confined it. We become complacent the other 364 days a year and then it becomes a chore when Feb 14 actually rolls around. How many other times would a person do any of these things in a year? Answer: other holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. Those are obvious. The difference is, in my opinion, that those are celebrations of EVENTS. Love is not an event, it's a state of being, and to celebrate it once a year with Russell Stover's and beanie babies is a sham. I think we owe love, and each other, more than that. Let's make Valentine's Day an unlimited floating holiday, one you can use whenever and as often as you like.

*disclaimer*
these are my opinions and if any of this backfires on you, you deserve it for taking your advice off the internet from a guy who is at home alone blogging on Valentine's day.

What have I been up to lately?

If you've read all that, kudos and thank you. After I finished it the other day I flicked through and read a few of the highlights and relived some very fond memories, an occasion which normally delights but in this case did not. I became sort of sad. I miss my vagabond lifestyle. I miss hopping a cheap flight to another country every month. I miss different cultures and my friends in Dublin and rugby and pubs and the ocean the bus and...well you get it.

I don't miss the weather and I was glad to see some real thunderstorms the other night, I had missed those. There have been a few springy days lately and that made me realize that I have missed Oklahoma spring and summer. Minus the destruction and carnage of course.

I digress.

What I've meant to say is what I have been up to lately. I am gainfully employed at Iron Starr Urban Barbecue in Oklahoma City. It's a very fine restaurant with a delicious menu where I am a server. Hopefully we will be opening a second restaurant soon where I will be a bartender. (THAT sounds dangeruss doesn't it? Sorta like hiring Cookie Monster to drive the Oreo truck?) When I'm not working I read and write, scoot all over town on Stella, my mint green scooter that looks like this, and I go for bike rides at the lake and visit friends for lunch and goof off most of the time. Maybe this blog temporarily be a compilation of stories from the restaurant and other general mischief I find.

In a hotly contested comment put forth at Christmas dinner, my mom referred to me as "just a waiter" but I do have some goals in life. (by the way, mom, I know you meant that as a compliment and you said "just" because I have such potential. Honestly, I'm not offended) I still have the travel bug so I plan to save a few bucks (contact me for donations) and get myself to Costa Rica where I will begin to learn English to the masses. It doesn't pay much but I've learned to live on very little and it will allow me to explore South America for a while. I've always wanted to go to the rain forest and learn how to surf (not at the same time. there is no surfing in the rain forest), and SA has both.

Days 48-50 - Home!

As I said before, I flew home to Dublin on day 50, thus ending my whirlwind tour through Europe. It was good to be home but I honestly could have roughed it on the road for another 50 days, maybe even more. I hope that someday I am lucky enough to experience something like that again.

Day 47 - Berlin/Amsterdam

On day 47 I took a long train from Berlin to Amsterdam. Days 47-49 were spent there, I'm pretty sure...and I flew back to Dublin on Day 50.

I remember the Van Gogh museum and Ann Frank's house. The rest is a blur. There is plenty of fun to be had in Amsterdam and I highly suggest you spend some time there if you ever get the chance. I will save the stories for another day. You'll thank me:)

Day 46 - Berlin

I ventured out in the morning to some flea markets I had heard about. They had some glorious junk that my mother would have loved but I didn't buy anything. Mostly because I couldn't carry anything else.

I walked through the Berlin Wall memorial and spent 2 hours reading through the Topography of Terror exhibit which detailed Hitler's rise to power and a time line of what went down once he got there. All very interesting and gut wrenching at the same time. It was very detailed. I also stumbled across Checkpoint Charlie which caught my interest and made me late for a bike tour that I had REALLY been looking forward to. I was very angry with myself for a minute about this.



So I walked to the TV tower and caught a bus tour, which I was the only passenger on, so it was like a private tour. My favorite was the holocaust memorial.


At the end I found a beer hall that had been set up to celebrate Oktoberfest. I took this as a sign and eagerly indulged in fine German beers served up by busty beer maidens and more mystery meat (Munich Meat Bread it was called) carved up by burly German men wearing wedgie inducing lederhosen and feathered hats. And Polka!



Home. Bed.

Day 45 - Prague/Berlin

Up in the morning, another good breakfast, and off to Berlin. The train was late but the route was very scenic. It took most of the day to get there. In the hostel I met some kids from America and we chatted over a few beers and pizza at the hostel. Ok quite a few beers. Then to bed.

Day 44 - Prague

My hostel has amazing breakfast. You can cook you own eggs and make omelets and all that.

I walked around by myself most of the day. I saw this neat communism memorial:


The Little Eiffel Tower:

Prague Castle:

and the Astronomical Clock:


It was in Prague that I found a treasure, an old 35mm camera from the 60's-ish.

That night I met up with Luke and Meg for a few beers and went to bed.

Day 43 - Vienna/Prague

Woke up early to go straight to the train station for Prague. Once there, I made my way to the hostel through the many bisecting trains, trams, and buses. It was quite complicated but I managed not to get lost.

Once in my room I met a pair of traveling cousins named Luke and Meg from Canada. We went off to look for dinner and on the way picked up two more American girls, though I don't remember their names. After dinner we went to a local bar that Luke had heard of that was supposed to be off the tourist map, where the locals would go. It turned out to be a very interesting place, maybe even a little creepy but I enjoyed it very much. Everything to look at was mechanical and moving. We listened to some music from an all girl Czech rock band with a VERY pregnant lead singer. The rocked.

Walked home to bed.

Day 42 - Vienna

I had to get up early today to switch hostels to a newer one, closer to town. Bec and I said goodbye to Brendan and then hit the streets. Our first stop was a piercing parlor where I got my lip pierced and from there to the museum of modern art. There was an exhibit called "bad painting, good art" which proved to be very interesting. This museum had some very weird art too, particularly the performance art. Beyond explanation. Just...odd.

We had some lunch and then went to stand in line for tickets to the opera. For only 4 euros you can get a standing ticket in a pretty decent spot in the famous opera house. The show was great, though I had to read the translator the whole time.

Post opera we hung out at our hostel bar and met some folks and then went to bed.

Day 41 - Budapest/Vienna

Up early and to the train station. I got busted without a valid ticket on the bus. Everywhere I go, I use buses and trains and trams, and you always have to have a valid ticket. It usually involves some sort of stamp with the date. I knew this. I knew that my ticket was from the previous day but I was willing to take a risk. I can count on one finger the number of times I have been asked to show my ticket. Plus, the ticket that I had in my hand had the date written by hand, and I figured that the 15 looked close enough to an 16 that I could pull it off if confronted. I knew that it was a sting as soon as the guy got on the bus. I've learned to spot these guys. They try to look like the normal commuter and then as soon as the doors close they whip out their badges and citation books with great and exaggerated yet unimpressive gusto. But, there was nothing I could do. I was cornered with a giant backpack on my back and nowhere to run. He could easily see that we would not be having a conversation so he gestured for me to show him my ticket, which I did. He took a look. Then a second look. Then a look at me and back at the ticket. I could tell that he was trying to figure out how to tell me that I had an expired ticket. So he pointed at the date and shrugged. So I informed him, in perfect English, that that was

"a 16. Today is the 16th :)"

So then he covered up the 1 to highlight the 5 and gave me another look.

"Right. Thats a 6. Today is the 16th :)"

His next attempt was to reach into his pocket and pull out a small pocket calendar and point at today's date. I looked at my watch to confirm.

"You got it. Today is the 16th. It's a Tuesday. September 16th. And that's why my ticket says the 16th."

My strategy was to both stall for the next bus stop and confuse him with as many English words as I could. As long as I was talking, he wasn't talking, and I could see his frustrations mounting. This continued for a few more minutes until the bus began to stop again, at which point my plan was to get off the bus and thereby end my crime spree. Luckily for me, he was more frustrated and I think slightly embarrassed and he got off the bus. So I stayed on and rode the bus all the way to the train station, illegally, as intended, proud and ready to ward off any other foes who might challenge my ability to decipher the numerals of Hungarian bus ticket tellers. Bring it on.

I arrived in Vienna that afternoon to cold and rain. I made my way to the hostel and was surprised to find Brendan from caving there. I had planned to meet up with Bec but neither of us knew that Brendan would be in Vienna at the same time. So the two of us headed in to town to meet up with Bec and see the town. We went to the Albertina museum to see a van Gogh exhibit as well as all the other great works there, including several Picassos.

After a pizza we all went to see an orchestra perform inside the palace. It was mostly works by Strauss and Bach and the performance was phenominal. We fninshed the night with a beer from an Aussie bar and headed home.

Day 40 - Budapest

I had intended on leaving today to head to Vienna, but I decided to stay one more day because I really wanted to go caving. I had seen several fliers for it and everyone who had done it had recommended it highly. It was a rainy day and caving wasn't until 3pm, so I slept in and then went to a market for some food. Thank God they put pictures on the labels of what is actually inside the packaging.

I left the hostel with Anita from Sydney and when we got to the meeting spot we met Gavin and Paul from Liverpool, Bec from rural Australia, and Brendan from Sydney. Our guide was Szilard from Budapest.

This would turn out to be one of the cooler things I've ever done. The entrance to the caves is just outside Buda and they expand for miles in every direction. We were all pretty gung-ho about it so we decided to take the most difficult route allowed. We descended to about 50 meters at our deepest point, and when we turned off our headlamps there you literally could not see your hand in front of your face. It was the darkest dark I have ever seen. We all stayed as quiet as possible and found it to be the most quiet quiet we had ever (un)heard.

Another point of interest the Szillard had told us about was called the "Winnie the Pooh Hole," which was a small hole in the rock that people skinnier than me could crawl through. Szillard demostrated, I became stuck. I did try hard enough to get a pretty nasty bruise on my hip from trying to cram myself through, but the rocks are unforgiving.















Check out these other attractions inside the caves








a billion year old oyster












"the spirit of the caves"














a creepy face
























"the library"












"the elephant"












On our way out we went through the most difficult passage in the caves, a paper thin section appropriately named "the sandwhich." While Szilard was explaining how this crevace curved and some points on how to navigate it, I was looking for a way to go. I didn't see any way out of the spot we were in except the way we just came. Then Szilly pointed to a crack and the rock and told me to "give it a go." I scoffed, Bec giggled, and Szillard disappeared into the crack and we heard a muffled "Come on in now. You have to turn your head to the left." And he was right. When you begin to crawl, you only fit if you turn your head to the left. Once you are in, there isnt room to switch it for another 3 feet. Now, 3 feet may not sound like much, but the entire sandwich is only about 12 feet long and took me, the most skilled beside Szilly, about 15 minutes to crawl through. There was no room to bend an elbow or raise a leg. I was literally inching along using little more than my fingers and toes. Once I was through, I felt like I had just done 100 situps and sprinted a mile with my backpack on. It was exhausting and I was soaked in sweat. But it was thrilling and the sense of accomplishment was worth the entire struggle. Once all the way through, there is a hidden notebook and pen for the proud few who make it through to sign. I couldn't manage a pic inside the sandwhich but here is what it looked like from the outside:

Day 39 - Budapest

Woke up early to go on a free walking tour with some of the gang from the previous night. Its a cloudy and sort of chilly day but the tour is pretty neat. The guide was Hungarian and spoke broken English but he knew a ton of history and all the things there are to see. Here are a few highlights from the tour:






The cathedral which is, by law, the tallest building in Budapest
















The Parliament building, which was intentionally built to the exact same height as the cathedral.











A sculpture on the river. You can see that people rub its legs for good luck. Is it a boy or a girl? Both. Its a girl dressed as a prince.













At the end of the tour we had a Hungarian lunch at a cafeteria. I have no idea what I ate but it was very tasty. Dark meat of some kind, something that resembled noodles, vegetables not native to North America, and mystery sauce, all on a bed of what was most likely rice. Or at least in the rice family. Does rice normally move? I'm sure it does. I may or may not have seen an eye ball but the fork was already on the way to my mouth and I didn't want to be rude and double pump my bite. I didn't feel compelled to ask any further questions about the meat. Some things are better left a mystery. As I said, it was tasty and it didn't kill me.

After "lunch" we were all pretty knackered to we decided to head back to the hostel and relax for a bit. There was also some concern that we may want to be in the relative comfort of the hostel after the meal. So back the hostel we went and we laid around in the common room and watched a movie and chatted for the evening and basically all night long. Towards the end of the night we ate some of the best pizza I have ever had.