We flipped past Top Gun last night on one of the myriad HBO channels. Though Wes insisted he has seen the movie only twice, he knew half the lines and remembered the order of the scenes perfectly. Jungian? A statement on the memory of an impressionable sixteen-year-old boy? I know it’s a truism by now, but I could not believe how homoerotic the movie is. It is so gay.
Starry-eyed after receiving an indescribably generous Christmas check (thank you!!!), I began dreaming of buying a triathlon-specific bike. I am not one of those folks who’s so well conditioned she could get faster only by buying a new bike, but it’s certainly possible to buy speed. Wes is doing a stellar job of channeling my enthusiasm, funneling my initial visions of a custom-made Serotta into the more realistic and (relatively) frugal Cervelo line. Their most popular bike is so popular that it’s never in stock. Tomorrow, I’m going to test ride the fancier model. Luckily, rational Wes is coming along to keep the purse strings tightly closed. I hope he will find a big luxury for himself (maybe at the great wine shop near the triathlon store) and use some of the money. Most of it is already in savings, possibly earmarked for a family beach vacation.