It’s been more than 12 years since I spent any time at Monorail. But I like coffee and I really like this coffee and the fact that they tack on (formerly Monorail) to the name Chetzemoka makes me like it even more as I drink it for breakfast every morning.
Monorail was firmly planted on my coffee-beer continuum. Perhaps I should say my continuum revolved around Monorail. It was hard to select just a few photos here because I spent a lot of time there loitering with a camera in one hand and a cup of coffee or a can of beer in the other.
One day Chuck, the owner back then, asked me to help him drag a municipal garbage can from around the corner, closer to his spot, to help rein in the empty cans collecting with the coffee cups of messengers continuuming. I can say with confidence that those were my two Milwaukees Best cans in the coffee-beer carousel above.
Here and now, these days (what day is it?) I’m schlepping things around the 98195 on an electric assist bathtub. Every month or so, the Bioengineers and Genome Scientists get a rather large shipment of Mukilteo. The smell of this delivery finally motivated me to connect the dots and look into getting my hands on my very own (formerly Monorail) coffee
the other day I wore this to the WA Legal Christmas party, one of the few settings where this shirt fits right in. I took a few fake selfies with Matt Face and Gigo. As the inventor of fake selfies I can tell you they can’t really be shared unless they’re captured by a third party, but even then I was wearing a layer or two over the t-shirt so it wouldn’t mean much anyway. Here & now I’m sharing it a day late and - accounting for inflation - much much more than a dollar short because who knows when I can wear this shirt again without a layer or two over it.
The other day or week or month or somewhere along the seamless transition from one kegerator to another, Mr. Chris Murray noticed the absence of a certain sticker among the collection collecting. So he sent along a care package of pilderwasser stickers as well as a handful of Sam Adams coozies all the way from Massachusetts to Rainier Beach. The stickers will be stuck. The coozies will cooz.
Haven’t paid much attention to this kid over the past 12 years, since the last time I took a picture sporting my new AHTBM cap back when I rode past it every day working at Mad Fiber. Little did I know, twice a day back then, I was riding past the building I work in today. Yesterday, when I took a picture of the kid sporting my new Double Darn cap, I noticed it’s not the same kid. Meet the new kid, it’s kinda sorta the same as the old kid, similar but different. I learned the kid's name is Sadako and her statue has been vandalized and repaired more than once.
What I’d really like to draw your attention to is the cap. This is the greatest winter weight wool cap ever made. It’s only day one, and the cap will get better with age, rain, sweat and a little beausage. It's not cycling specific but it could be. This cap is so cool, it will work weekends. This cap is so cool it’s warm, warmer than a tea cozy. As you know, black is the new black.
Double Darn in PDX makes some of the finest caps in the world. I’m the proud owner of at least 5. I wear one every day, all day. My family wears them too and I’ve passed a couple on to my coworkers. Misia is just now getting her shop up and running again after a recent fire and I suggest you check out her caps.
Operating under the assumption that it’s all built upon a reliable foundation. Kidding ourselves into believing it’s not an assumption. We call it a premise and say it’s logical.
If A, then B
If you say so bro
Call it what you will
What if the premise was built on a sandy beach in Florida?
What if that foundation rests on a receding glacier in Alaska?
What if direct-to-consumer bikes arrive with “some assembly required” and a 4mm Ikea wrench.
What if the binder bolt was torqued to spec and back because it was cross-threaded and stripped?
What if a tree falls in the forest and there actually is someone around, but all she can hear is a gas powered leaf blower?
What if your measuring stick is stuck? Your ruler is warped? Your stopwatch sticky?
What if your point of reference was gentrified into a 5 story condo with street-level retail but no off-street parking?
What if everything you’ve assumed got flipped and now it’s looking back at you backwards in the low resolution display of an endless zoom meeting?
What if a law abiding vehicular cyclist posts up in the left turn lane and waits through three light cycles exposed to traffic in every direction but his traffic light never changes?
What if the protected bike lane sets you up to knock you down?
A number of variables must fall into place just so - so we can continue on our way - so we can keep kidding ourselves.
Seeing the same commuter each morning at the same time wondering where they work, wondering if they’re wondering the same thing about you.
Seeing that pink bike in Iowa in 2006 and pausing for a moment to snap a photo and chuckle about the handlebars. Eight years later, moving into a house in south Seattle next door to the owner of that pink bike, not realizing the pink bike is “that pink bike” until she asks you to tune-up the bike and ditch the handlebars when conversation comes around to RAGBRAI, where all roads eventually lead to Grinnell, Iowa and a journey of a thousand beers begins with a single can of Milwaukee’s Best Light.