a quality of life issue

the other Tuesday I picked up a rather large box out in the 98115 and to bring it back into 98195 I used two long bungee cords to strap it on top of the cargo box. Rolling south I visualzed wind tunnel testing a cargo bike with a stack of boxes on top and it felt like this

that's not the Kirsten I had a crush on in high school that's Frederick Kirsten

finally, in conclusion, because I'm into product placement, brand recognition, consumer loyalty and buying locally I'd like to draw your attention to that slow boat water bottle from the Slow Boat Tavern in the heart of Hilman City. 

I know a guy that knows a guy that organized a RAGBRAI-like little bike ride somewhere in the Chicagoland area and named his group pilderwhatever. 

Darwin's Conjecture

Darwin
was desperate
for proof
that animals wept.
It wasn’t enough
that houseflies hum
in the key of F
or that Dall sheep keep
lifelong their horns,
adding like trees
a ring each year.
Darwin wanted tears.

Being the only
species that weeps
was lonely,
thought Darwin,
dreaming
of manic animals.
No, it wasn’t enough
that honey bees
can count to four.
Darwin wanted more.

Or less.
Confess it—
the reason why
humans cry
is the mess
they fashion
in comparison to
the paradise
they can imagine.
Animals, if
they imagine,
must be less
distressed
by the severity
of the disparity.
Or maybe they have 
less disparity.
Or less mess.

As to why
Darwin hoped
that animals cry
we can only guess—
which is a form
of imagining,
and could lead
to the emergence
of tears. Instead 
let us hum
in the key of F
and count to four
or more.
Or less,
and know
the aurora borealis
as glimpsed through
the fretwork of 
a construction crane
is a metaphor
for our brain
and also an analogy
for why we cry,
all the while—
like Darwin—
humming against
the immensity.




—Jessica Goodfellow

I read this on the Sheena Easton train printed on the acid-free archival-quality paper of The Threepenny Review and it changed my day

on the spectrum

this phrase gets tossed around these days and I think it’s funny because I’m on the spectrum

we’re all on some spectrum because there’s a spectrum for everything

Melanin

Melatonin

Serotonin

Sarah Palin

there’s a spectrum for color into the absence of color

light or the absence of light

masculinity

facial hair brow ridge sagittal crest knuckle dragging

awkward socially to silky smooth any situationally

back slapping hand shaking small talking  

horseshitting

there’s a spectrum for everyfuckingthing

the super recognizers you’ve read about on one end of the facial-recognition spectrum with the face-blind people at the other end

there are people like Stevil that can’t tell you what day it is or make plans involving a calendar on one end of the perpetual calendar spectrum while on the other extreme there are people that can tell you what day of the week your birthday will fall on in 2027 as well as what day of the week you were born back back back then in that year that you were born

There are people that use a highlighter to cross things out and a paragraph later use it again to highlight things and they expect you to know what they mean if you know what I mean

There are people that input an exact time into the microwave to reheat their lunch in the breakroom and there are people that eat their food at room temperature with a smile

taken out of context

and put back in 

again

twice removed

this made its way to me via Matt Case

the grass is always greener in Portland over the septic tank

20 years ago I poached this from Mudflap and reprinted it in one of the first issues of kickstand

For about 15 years as a commuter and a messenger I wore a bag on my right shoulder. Always on my right shoulder. From T2 to PAC to DANK with a brief interlude to an Ortlieb backpack and some legal messenger time with a DANK backpack I'd say 14 of those 15 years a one-strap bag was tugging on my right shoulder wearing holes in the right side of my shirts and jackets altering my skeletal system and the muscles that support it. 

7.5 years ago I stopped wearing a one-shoulder bag but my right shoulder is still noticeably lower than my left and my right hip is noticeably higher than my left. 

20 years later this cartoon speaks to me in a new way.  

 A Walk Across America   by Peter Jenkins

Dr 37 Mike gave me this book a couple three years ago and now that I’m a commuter zombie with some sitdown time built into my day I’ve finally read it.  it’s pertnear 40 years old but I feel like it makes more sense than ever in these horseshit times we live in today these times of instant tap swipe gratification where’s my uber where’s my jimmy john where’s my amazon fresh. When news is only news for 24 seconds. Calm the fuck down and harden the fuck up.  go for a walk from upstate New York to New Orleans in a pair of Chuck Taylors with a badass dog and a backpack.

Universal Harvester   by John Darnielle

I got this book for my birthday it's a novel that takes place in and around a video store in Nevada, Iowa in the late 1990’s. so right off the bat I was hooked because I’ve been to Nevada and I know how to pronounce it and actually I’ve been to a lot of towns in Iowa and I really appreciate the Iowa landscape and references in the book.  In addition I’ve lived through the be-kind-rewind years and I remember the look and feel of VHS tapes and video stores and VCRs.  This book is a VHS sized paperback packed in a plastic VHS case. It’s perfect light-rail reading in a durable versatile package.

You Think It, I’ll Say it  by Curtis Sittenfeld

I got this book at my local library it's a collection of short stories some of which you’ve probably already read in the New Yorker. I’m a big fan of a story that can take me some place I’ve never been or someplace I go all the time but I thought I was the only one that hung out there until I read of a character that goes there too and and and all that and more happens in 20 pages...

if you need a coozie for your otter pop grab a DANK

if you can't reach that high grab a Bob Anderton 

fast-map

2' x 2' laminated

custom made   in-house

a rolling infomation kiosk like one big bundle of answers on wheels. these maps were my idea a couple months back when I was getting lots of questions about buildings located on campus. this week the maps were finished and installed on the entire fleet of bikes although one rider removed his map after only a few minutes of riding because of the glare bouncing off the map and up into his eyeballs.

yesterday I narrowly missed the opportunity to photograph a man taking a photograph of the map on my bike. 

bike of the month

StumpJumper with 24" wheels

didn't get to speak with the owner before he rode away but he appeared to be old enough to vote but too young to buy beer

into and out of existence
less is more 
everything you need
 nothing you don’t 
those who say don’t know
those who know don’t say
it’s the same on the weekend
as the rest of the days 
radiating from   or   contracting to 
the original source 
it won’t go away 
it will only change shape
from nothingness to nothingness
between renewal and decay
somewhere along the way
  anywhere   nowhere  everywhere

that photo was taken today but those words were sequenced in 2009

I was in New Jersey the other day and my dad - my biological father read those words aloud and brought them to fresh spot in my brain as I didn't make them up I just strung them together nine or ten years ago. 

I'm not sure how long that phone booth has been there or how long it will continue to be there but the phone still works and please make your check payable to US West Communications and make sure the address reads clearly through the envelope window.