Flat Front Tire
Poor Sleek. Last night, she got a flat tire as we were trying to get home after my having taught the last class of the evening. We were fortunate as to where the flat occurred -- it wasn't too far from work. I pushed Sleek back to work with the plan of having it fixed today. However, Sleek is a big girl -- much bigger than most other electric bikes. Pushing the girl with a flat front tire proved to be more difficult than pushing her with a flat back tire. It didn't seem to be a good idea to push her back to the underground parking garage. I was probably going to have to leave her on top in the open air exposed to the elements.
But passing the shop where I sometimes buy cigarettes, the lady shopkeeper pointed me in the direction of a bike repair shop that was nearby. There I was able to get Sleek a new front tire, and be on my way home.
All's well that ends well, but I had to get my wife on the phone to communicate with the repair woman who didn't understand my Chinese. I also got home so late that Tony was asleep. So it worked out that I didn't speak to him all day. He was asleep when I left for work and when I arrived from work.
700,000 Youtube Views
With the amount of video I have uploaded to Youtube, the number 700,000 seems like small potatoes. Still, I will one day say I have had a million views on my channel. I may be able to say so within a year -- assuming I get a thousand views a day which is what I have been getting.
Uploading to Youtube is not easy from behind the Great Fire Wall. I have to use a VPN and cross my fingers that the upload actually goes through; and it is a very time-consuming process.
We received the Christmas Package from Canada yesterday. I opened it when I got home. Of interest to me were the photos and this book of Latvian short stories my parents included in the parcel.
The photos took me down memory lane. I now have a black and white photo of my parents getting married in 1962. My parents also sent me some photos from my teenage years. One of the photos, taken when I was in junior high school, shows a very ugly looking pimply face teenager with a Ringo-haircut and a cheesy adolescent mustache. I am thinking of having the photo scanned and showing it to you. It may be embarrassing to me, but I figure what the hell. You can't forget where you came from and who you were.
The book of Latvian short stories written by a Latvian exile from the Soviet Union included a history of Lativia in the introduction. For me, to read this was to delve into the past of my ancestors. And I forever damn the Soviet Union for occupying Latvia.