You can call me Ol!

It's April. And it's Easter -- my favorite holiday, filled with good food and good people here in Fredericksburg, Texas. Happy Easter, all! However you spend the day, I hope it's filled with tasty, local, springtime goodies (like the luscious strawberries we picked yesterday at Marburger Orchard).

April means Ollie and I are getting close to a year on the road. (A year!) I sure do wish I had another bottle of the lovely biodynamic muscat we shared at Bear's house back in Santa Cruz. And, okay, I am still daydreaming about that chantrelle soup we had with it....

I was going to wait until the official one-year mark on the 26th of this month to share this song that's been stuck in my head for the nearly the entirety of our two-day, hilly ride from Uvalde to Fredericksburg, but I think the only way to get it out of my head for a spell is to share it. (Now bits of it may be stuck in your head, too. Heheh.) Because Ollie and I seem to be cultivating a Weird Al streak these days, we give you:

You Can Call Me Ol

A girl bikes down the street, she says,
"Why is there glass in the shoulder now?
Sharp nails and glass in the shoulder when all four car lanes are clear!
Where's the "share the road" sign? How 'bout a [censored] bike lane?
Don't want to end up with a flat tire
Now that all our spare tubes are gone, long gone,
Put the last one on in Marfa, Texas,
Had to use pliers to dig out the spike."
All along, all along there were incidents and near accidents,
There were spills at the stoplights...

If you'll be my steady ride, stick by me for the long, long haul,
I won't call you Limpy, oh, no, my fearless partner, I will call you Ol!

A girl bikes down the street, says,
"Why are the hills all uphill?
Shouldn't there be a downhill sometime, since every hill has two sides?"
What's that barking sound there? Getting louder now.
Can't we bike any faster? Not with the load that we haul, we haul.
Dogs in the sunlight, not far away, their snarling jaws approaching...
Go. Faster. Go! Faster!!
Get these mutts away from me,
You know, I don't find this stuff amusing anymore...

If you'll be my steady ride, stick by me for the long, long haul,
I will treat you better, pump your tires and grease your chain, my dearest Ol!

A girl rides down the street,
It's a street in a strange town,
A home-on-the-range town, with not a road sign in sight.
She doesn't have the accent, holds a buck in quarters,
She is a stranger here, she is surrounded by the sound, the sound
Of cattle on the roadside ranches, scatterings of speed limit signs.
She looks around, around,
Sees that the wind's picking up now,
Maybe it's a tailwind...
She says, "Hallelujah!"

If you'll be my steady ride, stick by me for the long, long haul,
You can call me crazy (though others call me Ibti) and I'll call you Ol!