what was that? is that all there is? who is this? this is it.

let's party like it's two thousand and nine

one chirp is all it takes

Red Kev photo

Attorney: when I ask you a question, just answer the question

Client: no shit, I’m paying you $400 an hour you fat fuck

Christmas tree tied atop a Volvo wagon
12/23/08 = seasonal, spiritual, sentimental

Christmas tree tied atop a Volvo wagon
12/30/08 = trash

We have an understanding
An unspoken agreement
We don’t speak to each other

Call it like you see it
Call it what you will
Call someone who cares

We’re all paying rent to the same landlord

A little less lip gloss. A little more chapstick.
A little more IPA.  A little less PBR.
A little less daytime TV.  A little more integrity…

Today I need something more sub-sub substantial. More satisfying than a stale rice cake.  Enough of the fluffy whipped up cotton candy trendy pre-packed snacks with soy protein added for texture. Enough empty calories.

Yesterday my shopping list included ingredients for the creation of a hearty stew. But when I got home from the store the only thing in the bag was a 4-pack of ramen noodles. Shrimp flavor.

Today is the day that bike lanes shine and show what they’re really good for: collecting all the gravel, sand, broken glass, makeshift sleds, dogshit, beer cans, hub caps and other detritus that materializes after two weeks worth of snow melts. It was like riding on the beach out there today.  A beach covered with biohazards and oilslick wildlife.

Yesterday…this guy walks into a bar with his laptop and the NY Times. He sits at a table and orders a bowl of soup. A short time later he asks his server to ask the bartender to turn the music down. And the bartender says,
“Hell No. Tell him to go to the library. This is a bar and it’s Elliott Smith for cryin out loud.”

 What’d you get for Christmas?

I got to pay the rent.

What do you think it all means?

You're right.

when it rains it rains
persistent nagging chest pains
as a result of ill-gotten gains

you super usurper
you're gonna get yours
you get what you pay for
      pay now     pay later

not a just a compromise
a ceremonial sacrifice
offering up function to the fashion gods
your feet hurt like hell
but you look good     yes you do   yes you do

Should we talk about the weather?       No
I don’t want to be that guy                  …Snow

It’s allover everywhere and we’re all over it

Blisters turn to calluses. Suck it up, they say. And just like anything else you get used to it. Get over it. Get out from under it. Get off it.  Get on with it.

And I am so ready to   too

Easy to say. Easy to do with a day or two over 32°

Winterwonderland is a place you visit by choice or vacation. Seattle in the snow is so 1996. It was fun for a day and great for a weekend. But I think many people here feel the same way and are ready to see bare wet streets, 45 and rain.

We’ve all taken a moment to appreciate the majestic beauty of the snow covered city. The muffled quiet of traffic-less streets. The frightened screams of drunk people sledding down Denny from Summit all the way to Stewart. The goofy laughter of kids building their first snowman. But I no longer have the happy-go-lucky attitude of a Pomeranian in the snow.

I have the grumpy poopy pants attitude of an old messenger that has missed a few days of work and walked out a few more and I’d like to take a moment to appreciate how the snow here makes everything heavier, wetter, slower, slicker, slipperier, slushier and suck just a little bit harder

45 is the new 65. Not years old, degrees Fahrenheit.

Everyone is a little bit edgier, crustier, grumpier. Not just your local messenger, but your cashier, your lawyer, your mail carrier, your bartender and your dog walker. Drivers are a faster on the draw, ready to lay on the horn or get vocal. Not typical Seattle.                                    

My bikes have become laundry racks and haven’t seen the street for a week.

Let’s talk about something else

wanna come upstairs and see my binder clip collection?

10 years ago

Erik Jahnz took this photo

Don't do what I say

Don't do what I do

Don’t call it a comeback
I been here for years

Don’t call us
We’ll call you

Don’t stand up in a canoe

try walking a mile in my shoes

I’m getting on an elevator
I’m about to lose you

I saw you

This past week of work   in the snow
has sucked
just a little bit harder now baby

But it’s over
Today is my Friday

word

You know what hard work gets you...

...more hard work

Another day another half dollar. Actually it’s down to 45 cents. I’d buy that for a dollar but the price is now $2.25.  Please accept this gift card as a small token of appreciation for all the work you’ve done over the past year.  The card may be redeemed at participating Taco Bell restaurants  [The bearer of this card is entitled to one free medium soft drink with a purchase of $10 or more] Hey thanks. NO, Thank You. December revenue projected to fall short of projections expected to fall short of expectations predicted to fall short of predictions. shoulda coulda woulda.

Blame it on the weather

Blame it on the messenger

The streets aren’t plowed
Because there are no snow plows

The sidewalks aren’t shoveled
Because no one owns a snow shovel

Compact snow and ice
Traction tires required

Accumulations of 6”- 8”…he said
More like 3” - 5” …she said

Remember that time
It snowed in Seattle then froze & stuck around
Yeah that was a while ago                                1996

In the 206
In the two oh six          Oh
I found your wallet in El Segundo

You gotta get it
You got-got to get it

Wool socks and six packs
Six packs of wool socks

Frozen pizza
Hard liquor
Red wine
Sharp cheddar

one more layer

I gotta get it
I got-got to get it

 these boots weren’t made for walking
but that’s what they had to do
one of these days these boots
are gonna                      call in sick

Walking in to work
Walking it for work
Walking is not the new black
Walking kind of sucks

Coming out of buildings looking for my bike

reaching for my key feeling for my lock      then

remembering my bike was at home
because I walked
Walking sucks sometimes

but it beats the bus

All local artists

All mediums

All night

you know you want some

Less is more        or less
overdressed   underdressed
confident comfortable
I’m impressed
nothing more   nothing less

pedestrian chicken dance
duck duck duck             goose

say hello to my little friend
Mr. Jim Beam
he lives close to another friend
Major Lee Housed

Out in left field
Out to lunch
Out in the cold
sitting on the steps
the only thing between me and hypothermia
the only thing between my ass and those steps
a fat stack of divorce papers
fortified by fatass divorce lawyers
insulated with inflated billable hours

belching away the one and only chance
to make a good impression
on a mind that was made up long ago

Raise your hand if you’ve
eaten the special at the Logan Deli
and Café Zum Zum
in the same 4 hour stretch…
a normal man would be in the hospital
it’s all about me
it’s all about calories

What should I do?
do what you say
or do it the right way

Do what you love
and the money will follow
that thing you love
right out the window

You can’t afford to

You can’t afford not to

what's in the bag?

What isn't in this one-of-a-kind messenger bag handmade in Seattle by those guys down at DANK for Mobius Cycle with a pink pilderwasser nipple driver on the flap?

that's not Sharrow that's Skunk

23 degrees. That’s not that cold…if you’re from Spokane, Boise, Laramie, Grinnell or Milwaukee. If you’re from Seattle 23 is cold.  But sunny and crisp is not a bad way to go. To go by bike. It just means wearing a few more layers and it’s no big deal until you work up a sweat then go inside the passport office and wait in line for 25 minutes and though you’ve stripped down as far as you can in a government office the sweat is dripping down your ass crack and soaks through your baselayer.  Then when you finally make it up to the glass-enclosed clerk and make your delivery, it’s time to go back outside and freeze. But only until the next time you get hot and then stand around inside. 

Seven layer salad. Seven layer cookies. Seven layer dip.

dip

P for Peet's sake

 celeste green RB-2, white Flite, white Ourys, carbon fiber seat post, Salsa stem, pink pilderwasser DANK top tube pad, white Michelin tires…

…or not 

You say tomato
I say ketchup

You say potato
I say French fries

You say cappuccino
I say fucking coffee


so
what if
you used up all your chances
to make a first impression
sitting at the bar
telling a dirty joke
you heard 3 nights ago
3 stools down
at the same bar

a quick cost-benefit analysis
Nothing to gain
Nothing to lose

So
what

What are you worried about?

the combo meal is cheaper
than each item ordered separately
but you're stubbornly
sticking to your guns
wedged up in your gums

floss

kids these days

If A then B
If B then C
therefore
If A then C

If X then Y          and maybe Z too
where were you and you    and you
six months six weeks six days ago

you win some you win some more you lose some it rains it pours

On the first day of Christmas
    dispatcher gave to me

twelve Nextels chirping
eleven deadlines burning
ten    EoDs
nine candy baskets
eight file boxes
seven Pier 70’s
six triple towers
five        bulky         kings
four rush round trips
three downtowns
two-zone teeners
and one lousy cup of coffee

wouldn't want your job on a day like this

Admiring the facts
Arriving at the right answers     but
Asking the wrong questions
right         wrong    right
left wondering why
just a bit shy

when she comes
she’ll be coming ‘round the mountain

Long red braids
Short black skirt

Long white apron
Short smoke break

Long meaningful stare
Short awkward conversation

when she comes
she’ll be driving six white horses

good night      rough morning
diminished capacity
cloudy   hazy   foggy
more black coffee
and just a splash of
decision making ability
Absolutely Free!
plus a one time only
shipping & handling fee

when she comes
we’ll all go out to meet her

 10 years ago today...

I performed my first notarial act

kickstand #4 was in the works

There were 150 bike messengers in Seattle

Marco Pantani won the Tour

There was a democrat in the White House

The Broncos were on their way to another Super Bowl

UW was                 6-6
WSU was              3-8
Seahawks went    8-8

The Kingdome was still there

Safeco field was under construction

Zen Couriers kicked ass
allover the greater Puget Sound area, on bikes

Buckys wore Blue

Elliott Bay was Purple

I was 10 years younger
and still older than you are

You were still in school

I rode a cross bike
uphill both ways
in the snow

I gave up on grad school

A CMWC meant more to me than a PhD
it still does (no offense Mr. Jeffrey L. Kidder)

Messengers never had to show photo ID
anywhere downtown
Except to buy beer

There were not many messengers hanging at Monorail
City Grind was at 5th & Columbia

Copy jobs were done one page at a time
with rolls and rolls of quarters

We had pagers
and called base on the phone
from land-line phones
A lot
One job at a time

Invoices were printed
in triplicate
on a dot-matrix printer

A trip to the recorder
guaranteed 30 minutes of wait time

MDR, PNP and PM were legal messenger companies

the ENA satellite was an institution

I know now what I knew then
But I didn’t know then what I know now

I can’t keep a straight face

This cheapass frozen pizza tastes better the next day.  Refrigerate unused portion. Whatever it’s colder in my apartment than it is in my refrigerator. It is. Really. I’m serious. It’s cold outside. So cold my key coil won’t recoil. Hungover.  Still drunk. Hungover. Drunk. I’ll never do that again. Whatever. My fingers are cold. My ears are cold. But there’s sweat dripping down my back. Head spinning. Riding the waves of nausea on crowded elevators. Unwanted spectator on officetron conversations of weather and weekends and weekass plans. Smelling morning coffee. Myself smelling like the smell of freedom which this Friday morning is a unique combination of burritos, beer, sweat, wet dog, cat hair, road grime, chain lube, leftover pizza, toothpaste, Old Spice and old socks.

Here's Adam Toothaker winning a race in a pilderwasser t-shirt

and this from Mr. Toothaker himself:

bike bio:
frame was a trade with kevin carter and he pulled it from the dead  
baby pile for a possible polo bike
the cranks are from recycled cycle.
the forks, i got those because they are pink- carlie and kevin- from  
the other used bike shop on the east side of pdx that isn't city bikes.
spd clipless pedals from an abandoned gary fisher in a house my dad  
was remodeling.
salsa stem i won here in boise at the hellracer.
bars from a friends wife here in boise-43
brooks saddle with a reflector that my uncle attached in something  
like 1978ish
wheels are deep v and the rear hub is white industries eno because wwmd
ratio is 34x17
this is the reason why i am sharing; because, when i was building up  
the wheel in may, charlie had told me about case planning a memorial  
event for the three lost on the hill. charlie didn't make the  
connection of me might knowing them, it was a casual mention about him  
maybe going to seattle and i was totally caught off guard at the  
truing stand. i was planning on bringing the bike to seattle to show  
kevin. i had a feeling that he would be into my build that i had done.
there is my catharsis. do you charge for the first hour, can we  
prorate this session.
ride safe
word

A priest, a rabbi and a bike messenger walk into a bar…

Did you hear the one about the drunk messenger?

How many messengers does it take to change a light bulb?

This messenger walks into a bar,  the bartender says…

What do you call a bike messenger with a masters degree?

Sunday Sunday Sunday read the fine print

what's the  g for?

I'll give you what for...

slideshow in progress here rated PG-13

I don't want to be that guy

You already are

There are no hidden meanings  

 milk       milk

lemonade

round the corner chocolates made

trying to make it pay

At least the sign is good for something. Something like a bike rack. Something to lock up to since they took out all the parking meters and painted a bike lane.

Traffic is light not because of the holiday but because everyone lost their jobs.

Form follows function but may not be in fashion. With the haircut came the tighter pants and the belt. A belt so obviously not necessary because the pants were so fucking tight. The shoes. The hat. The hoodie. The riser bar hacked down to the size of two Oury grips. That’s right. Omak track bikes. Moses Lake fixie kids. Alley Cats in Walla Walla. It’s 2003 again. All over everywhere again.

Technically sound. Efficient. Well done all in all.
lacking emotion. The absence of passion.
feels like a textbook.
It sounds like the piano player at Two Union

A feral cat lapping up rancid fat

copy that

10-4

Did you say high functioning alcoholic?
No, I said highly functioning autistic.

mud in your
eye bit off more than I could
choo-choo training
bra strap
on Steely Dan
B-sides the obvious

They say   you can’t take it with you

They say   come and get it right away
They say   it had to be there yesterday
They say   tomorrows another day

They say   are you on a bicycle?

copy that

My friend used to work in a bike shop and last night she brought over a 5 gallon bucket full of old inner tubes. Then she left.

I counted 67 tubes and each one had at least one puncture. So I made a gallon of green tea and started drinking it. Then I lined up all the tubes and started patching them. Patching each and every one like any good kid at BikeWorks would do. Like any bike mechanic in Cuba would do. Like a poor legal messenger that gave away all his spare tubes to his coworkers would do.

I drank so much green tea and huffed so much rubber cement that I could no longer bend my fingers. I had plenty of glue and could have vulcanized all night but when I got to the 43rd tube I ran out of patches and had to phone a friend to bring more.  It was hard to dial the phone without bending my fingers but I did it.

When my friend arrived he said maybe I should open a window and he asked me if I knew what time it was. And I said no because I’d been listening to the same Edie Brickell cassette since I started patching tubes and I couldn’t remember how many times it had played through. 

Then my friend went to work and I patched 12 more tubes. Some of the tubes had broken valve stems and could not be repaired.  And there were a couple big fat 24 inch tubes that I had no use for, so I put those back in the bucket and took the bucket outside and left it on the sidewalk.

The guy on the left was Lando Calrissian for Halloween. The guy on the right used to wear a Lando action figure necklace back back back in the day.

Coincidence…I think not.

 On the 7th day she said, “go outside, get out of my face, get out of the house, go for a bike ride or something”  and I did. and it was good.

got zooted out and rode off in an aimless recreational direction. A short time later stopped, sat on a bench and had a brief chat with Louisa Boren. Then checked in with Bruce Lee and Brandon too. Looked at the view.  Went around a block or two. Then went to the bar to continue. My work. My work on pondering life’s great questions.

It’s not a journey vs. destination thing
It’s not a North or a South thing
It’s not a Yes or a No thing
It’s a quality of life thing

It’s an IPA thing

I stepped over the line. Then I stayed for a while and stepped back. But you know I’d like to keep my options open and reserve the right to step over it again sometime.

They keep the glass ceiling so clean you can’t even see it.  But because you’ve heard so much about it, you assume it’s there. The framework is there, the support structure has been built up, in your mind for years. And years. But last week I finally got a ride on the secure elevator, and now I know there is no glass in that ceiling. Nothing there. It’s all in your mind.

On the sixth day she said “do not ride a bicycle” and it was good
Sharp cheddar, cold beer, wool flannel, college football
Saturday

Pull out your puppy & kitten day planners
Here are some days to remember:

December 7, 2008
Top Secret TreeBeard AlleyCat fiesta-o-rama
Details TBA

December 11, 2008
Cave Singers
Neumos

Memorial Day Weekend 2009
West Side Invite
Seattle

Late July 2009
RAGBRAI
All across Iowa

2010
CMWC
Guatemala

Please make a note of it

It’s like sitting down at the blackjack table and realizing all the hands you’re dealt were predetermined long long ago. There’s no skill involved, there’s no choices really to be made, there’s no real gambling and no reason to blame the dealer. It’s all there, it’s all been there, it will all be there.  

It’s as if all the messenger work, the last-minute filings, the rushes, the bulky next-days, all of it was called in long ago. Long before the beginning of time. As if all the dispatch logs for today and for every day from here on out are already filled in, completed and on file. It’s as if the dispatcher is just fucking with you.

so anyway...

wanna come upstairs and see my Tyvek envelope collection?

really         what was it?

Was it her
subtle voice inflection
Was it her
genuine truth detection
Was it her
urinary tract infection
or was it just
location          location              location

Dan E. Murray sent me this.

It would look pretty cool on a T-shirt and if you were from Fitchburg it would look even better

 It’s Sunday, 7:22 am in the Pacific Time Zone. In my right hand an Old Style Beer Salami (you don’t see these everyday in Seattle). In my left hand a roadmaster of Budweiser Chelada (there’s a first time for everything). In my pocket a new hand-made wallet from Milwaukee. Thank you Shaggy, the goods arrived last night.  Cheers.

congregate hydrate agitate migrate
duplicate do it again one more time
---- move along
one way two way my way your way either way
whatever     vector scalar tensor
direction location vocation vacation
reapply after heavy perspiration  
energy entropy probability possibility
We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it
roadmaster forecaster Coinstar rockstar
binder clip connoisseur guacamole regularly
complete complex deplete duplex
We’ve isolated the source of the problem
what we have here is    a loose scutcheon  
free time big time and no bigger fish to fry
intense camping out in tents …RAGBRAI

 Hey, get on the bus!
Registration for RAGBRAI 2009 is now open. The pilderwasser collective is stronger than ever. There’s nothing like dreams of July days in Iowa to help out with November days in Seattle.

Word.

 If you could take a microwave oven with all the radiation it gives off and shrink it all down to a palm sized package you’d have a handy little device also known as a cell phone. Those things that people everywhere are holding up to their heads for hours at a time. The things they keep in their chest pockets, their breast pockets, over their hearts. In their ass pockets and on their groins. Those things blasting off the straps of their DANK bags. Those Nextels chirping, blurting, alerting the entire population of Two Union Square to wake up. I am messenger hear me roar. Yeah those things. Get back to me in 15 years when you know what those little microwave ovens have done to your brain.

Justin P Fauntleroy photo

Went to a party a couple weeks ago dressed as a paperboy. A few hours into it I met a woman dressed, she said, as a cougar. Later I found out it was my friend’s sister and she’s only 19.  Then everyone thought she was Lolita and I was a creepy old man.

Had a feeling I’d meet someone special today. And I almost did, downtown. She was walking towards me, head tilted to one side, smiling, laughing. Her arms outstretched offering up something. Something just for me. But as I got closer I realized she was holding her cell phone on one shoulder talking away and awkwardly trying to get the cap back onto her chapstick with both hands. But I found myself staring at her, continuing on in my mind with my misperception as she continued on down the street.

As I step through the revolving door at One Union and look towards my elevator bank I see a white up-light light up and 8 people herd onto the one open car. I know I could walk just a bit faster and dog pile on that one too. But I won’t. But if I did    I would: jingle the change in my pocket, strum my fingers on the handrail, slurp my latte repeatedly, rustle the bag of my potato chips and chomp them down up in your face, offer unwanted eye contact fishing for something like a human connection - a banal conversation, turn up the volume on my cell phone, all the while hum-whistling the Green Acres theme song or is it whistle-humming…loudly off key and sloppy, plenty of saliva.

Yes that is what I would do if I didn’t do what I do.

Vermont BMX photo

"We get guys like you in here all the time..."

If you saw Manfred Nuscheler on the road you might think, “who’s this chuffer?” But if you saw him in a gold sprint race, you’d change your mind. He could do 271 rpms and as you can see on the chart above he was capable of putting out 2378 watts, even if it was only for 3 seconds, that’s Grand Coulee.

tangy penny in a pinch
between the cheek n gum
peanut butter breathalyzer
Have you been drinking sir?
Mayor Nickels it’s not a crime
pumpernickel pumpkin bagel
double nickels on your dime
getting older     slowing down
it’s partly age, rosemary and thyme
You’re soaking in it        
Madge       margin  margarine
I can’t believe it’s not better
 shows over nothing to see here
 write this way folks
Right? No left
step    write-up     write it down
Here…diagonally

I have no recollection
of the events in question
I am without sufficient information
and can neither confirm nor deny the allegation

Being an hourly legal messenger on a slow day is like waiting at the airport for a flight that may begin boarding at any minute or it might be delayed three more hours. At any second an announcement could blast over the radio telling you to get on a direct flight to Atlanta. Or it could tell you to prepare for a flight to Salt Lake City where you’ll change planes then fly to Denver, Las Vegas, Sacramento then Cincinnati. Or it could tell you the flight is still delayed. You’re in limbo, waiting. It’s hard to stay awake and at the same time you cannot completely relax. Looking at the clock, again, repeatedly. Spending more and more money on overpriced coffee and shrink-wrapped muffins. How many times can you read USA Today? When you finally board your flight you could be in first class, in for a smooth ride or you could be back by the lavatory in the center seat between two Clydesdales. You may have a 45 minute layover or you might have to sprint across two terminals to make your connection.

Stand the-fuck by uptown

one pill makes you small

really for real      really
minimum wage plus or minus a few dollars
How serious can you be
seriously
I’m serious   really

really     the real deal
every minute of every day
walking the walk
not turning it on at 8:30am
not turning it off at 5:00pm
It’s not about the bike
It’s not a wardrobe decision
It’s not a fair-weather vocation
It’s not an alley cat, a hobby or a skidding contest
I’m not faking it     because  
I’m sure not trying to make it
I’m not just talking the talk
on nights and weekends

I'm just saying it’s a quality of life issue

The deposition was late, misdelivered, torn open, soaked by rainwater, smelling of beer with an essence of egg roll,  stained with blood, 1000 Island dressing, road grime, spicy teriyaki,  mixed vegetable curry and apparently sprayed with Axe body spray

Look at the flaming sunset shadows on the walls of Bad Animals echoing the blaze of my brother Daryl's Swobo hat. Look at the aerospoke wheel on Leland's bike. Look at John Denver's hat. Look at that pilderwasser t-shirt. Look at those Lens Crafters. Can I get a P? Can I get another P?  burberry 

Your attempts to make up for your lack of experience with seemingly endless enthusiasm are amusing, reminding me of my attempts in the last few years to make up for my complete lack of enthusiasm by going to the well of experience…perhaps too many times.



Some people say getting hit by bird shit is good luck.

I agree

Some people say birds have no sphincter control.
I disagree

Today at 1:07pm in the plaza of the IBM building as I was nestled between two mid-size trees perched on the wall just this side of the ABC sidewalk-shortcut to One Union. I took my bag off and was turned to the right to open it up, when I was struck directly in the right shoulder by a humongous seagull turd with a loud splat and enough overspray to coat my left forearm too. It actually made me laugh as I thought of this seagull taking another spin to get a better look at the target.  Precision, accuracy, trajectory, wind conditions, altitude, attitude, tone of voice, intention, audience, demographic. Good luck for me and Nice shot by Mr. J. L. Seagull.

"Knock-knock!"
"Who’s there?"
"Control Freak - now you say, 'control freak who?'”

32 Bobby D photo courtesy Morris Post

Hella Corn Dog Classic III

you win some, you win some more

you lose some, it rains it pours

Remember that weekend in Providence when we brought enough clothes for a family of four? We couldn’t even carry it on the bus. Remember that summer in Flagstaff when all we had was a pair of shorts and a t-shirt? Everything worked out fine

Would you like to get away and get some rest
Or do you just want to get away from here  because you’re restless

What are you looking for? where do you think you’ll find it?
Coeur d’ Alene? Cedar Rapids? Copenhagen? Cape Town?
or in that coffee shop on the corner
Are you traveling in search of something or
are you traveling to get away from something
Hide & Seek seeking or hiding  

Finding inspiration or reading an instruction manual
A loose suggestion or a rigid recipe
I’ll take a pinch, a dash, a sprinkle, a dollop
You’ll measure out 1 ¼ teaspoons and a level ¾ of a cup

You’re the left hand playing a constant predictable base line  
I’m the right hand going Thelonious allover the board

You’re the boy scout over prepared
I’m the hitchhiker winging it

I had one small pack traveling light over seas
You had two checked bags envisioning contingencies

It’s amazing what people can accomplish when they don’t have a choice
Acting out of necessity, emergency, catastrophe

It’s amazing how people freeze when they’re given choices
Weighed down by quantities, accessories, luxuries

I mention passing through casually
You’re carefully retyping the itinerary

*1201 Second Avenue

There’s a stillness in the air. People are holding their breath. Holding their wallets. Filling out their ballots.  Retail sales are down. But beer, wine & liquor* sales are strong, stronger than ever in some parts of the country.  People are worrying, saving, over thinking, smart shopping, downsizing but still drinking.

Some people fear their 401Ks are losing value 
Some people fear the next President of the United States
Some people fear carnies and their small hands
Some people fear bare-handedly-over-handled cheese
Some people fear undercooked pork products
Some people fear small confined spaces
Some people fear long-term relationships
Some people fear Shriners Conventions

I am afraid of zombies dressed as facilities management professionals toting small brooms and dustpans. I have this recurring paranoid fantasy acid trip bad dream where I’m  standing-by in the lobby of the PSP sitting in an Eames chair trying to read a well known paperback book but I’m constantly being harassed, poked and prodded by dudes with brooms and dustpans invading my personal space pretending to sweep up nonexistent invisible crumbs. Then I get up, walk outside to unlock my bike and it turns out it’s not a dream.

Chis Murray photo

This is Frankie Jr. from Mama Raphael's taking a little cheese break during one of his 12 hour work days on RAGBRAI. As you can see he's an honorary member of the pilderwasser collective. You can also see he likes cheese. 

If you haven't read the original scroll version of On the Road, check it out

If you think Jack rolled his TP over the top...I agree with you

If you see a connection between Frankie Jr and Jack Kerouac go with it work with it run with it. Correlation yes. Causation perhaps. Why don't you make yourself a quesadilla or have a big slice of apple pie smothered in ice cream in some small town in Iowa

Roll On!  live free or die, you know, next door, one state over

Vermont BMX photo

not obedient just independent    alone
self-contained entertained unrestrained
stacking rocks, riding bikes, building forts, lighting fires
kicking pine cones, licking ice-cream cones
slurping Slurpees until the brain freeze
pinball, bubblegum, penny candy, pump cheese
the babysitter smells weird   smoking cigarettes
watching soap operas Monday through Friday
her macaroni tastes funny
her tuna sandwiches aren’t as good as mom’s
potato salad, dill pickles, baked beans, hot dogs
the dog is so hot he’s not moving,   panting
ice cubes melting in his water bowl
garden hose spewing plasticky bathwater warm
the lawn yellowing   drying     dying
crunching prickly on tenderfeet
they’ll toughen up by Labor day      then it’s
back to shoes and socks and school

seek and you just might find a $595 piece of Burberry in the lobby 

 Brujo photo

 This is Mr. Craig Etheridge. He’s kind of a big deal. I’ve talked about him before here and here   You may remember when he defeated Frankie Andreu at goldsprints. This past weekend he defeated the entire 503 area code at this event and won it all and won one of these custom made bicycles

the shadow knows

 Are you a messenger?

I’m an artist, I'm a writer and I wanna dance

Well do you know where the Pike Place Market is?

Yeah it’s that way

happy birthday 87 happy birthday to you

You might be a messenger if on 10-9 Day International Messenger Appreciation Day the only appreciation you get is from other messengers.

Word.

Did you ever know that you're my hero? You're everything I wish I could be...

it was what it was
it will be what it will be
it is however neither then nor there
it is here and now
it is what it is

no experience necessary

You might be a messenger if you’ve been on the road for 10 years and you’re expected to train some kid

You might be a messenger if you’ve been on the road for 10 years and you’re being trained by some kid

You might be a messenger if you recognize bicycles from a couple blocks away and if you see one locked up you know who it is, where they are, what job they’re picking up and what time it’s due…you know who got laid off, who got fired, who quit, who got hired, who just started this week, who might start on Monday, who’s training who and how long that could take. 

10-4

Copy that

May I please have the chicken nachos

May I please have 25 more psi
a baby-smooth contact patch
very little rolling resistance and still
have enough friction to dive into corners

May I please have job security
an annual cost of living pay increase
paid holidays and relatively little horseshit

May I please have full fenders
and on an average day keep
my socks dry until at least 11:00am

May I please “fall back” this year
with confidence and grace and perhaps
a little help from drugs and alcohol

May I please don my little blinky lights
and retain the knowledge
that comes from experience and
realize… I’m still invisible

May I please finish this King run
and exit the courthouse to find
my bike in one piece

May I please comprehend the concept
of a water resistant - wind resistant shell and
wear varying layers of wool and synthetic fiber

May I please weather the storm of
elevator questions that come with
A change in the weather

May I please turn the other cheek
the other ass cheek
the one with the U-lock

May I please enjoy a quiet lunch break
without Mr. Gas Powered Leaf Blower blowing
without Mr. Dust Pan Sweeper sweeping
moving me along for no good reason

May I please drop out of Electoral College
and cling to the misconception that the popular vote counts

May I please get one more for the road
And one for my friend too ?

 “Cyclists are open-minded. Cyclists are egalitarian. Cyclists share a fellowship of the wheel that can overcome all political, social, racial and economic barriers. Except for recumbents.”

powdered sugar     powdered donuts
sugar coated      powder coated
frame fork fenders racks stem
all together now
as well as a frame pump and bottle cages
at home in storage
Color
Coordination
matching saddle bar tape cable housing

too much - It’s never enough
However this bike is actually ridden
functional versatile durable
not too much fluffy trendy shit
one of these kids is doing his own thing

 You might be a messenger…

…if you can gage how busy you were by how many binder clips you pull out of your bag in the morning. Not by how many miles you rode, not by how much weight you’ve lost, not by how much money you took home, not by how many attorneys you saved.

…if you can gage the local real estate market by how much drool is running off the chin of a title insurance messenger standing by in a comfortable office building lobby chair.

…if you can gage the local economy and realize it’s gone to shit when your 2 year old skanked out busted helmet gets stolen off your bike around noon at City Center as if the perpetrator envisioned a blown out sweat soaked road grimed hard worn stinky messenger helmet could be worth something.

…if you must choose between buying a new helmet and paying your rent

…if you’ve blown out 3 pairs of bike shoes since the last time you purchased a pair of normal civilian shoes.

It’s not really such a flat city. One dimensional. Shallow. Plastic. Fake. Like the view from Frasier’s window. Buildings rearranged condensed imagined into a falsified skyline Seattle where the Space Needle is somewhere between 1001 and Mount Rainier. Where 1201 is nudged up against some building that doesn’t exist. Where everybody knows your name. not really.  I’ll meet you at 801 5th and get a proper picture of you on your bike dominating this plastic Seattle PR metropolis mural.

this is Rowan in a nipple driver onesie

Photos courtesy of Wade Michael Atkinson

It’s October and they’re putting up Christmas lights in the trees at Two Union. The sun is carving a lower and lower arc across the sky (as we discussed earlier the sun isn’t moving or doing anything but burning itself up. We on earth are just spinning revolving and rotating as the Northern Hemisphere is moving away from the sun into its dark grey long winter phase and the Southern Hemisphere is exposing, getting warmer into summer) Today the sun is barely hitting the patio at lunch hour

Today I saw John Hinckley Jr. riding a recumbent slowly on Malden Ave East near Safeway, he had an orange flag and all, Travis Bickle was tearing shit up on a BMX not far behind hitting all the curbs and the root popped sidewalks, catching big air. Hinckley’s parents and older brother were driving like tourists a half a block back in what was obviously a rental car and I think Neil Bush was in the car too. I gave them a half ass thumbs up. Then later on, on Warren Ave North I spotted Thomas Dolby on a tricycle with Miss Sakamoto standing on the back, her hands on his shoulders and good heavens let me tell you she was beautiful, they asked me how to find the Space Needle. Somewhere around the 2:30 lull I saw David Koresh walking up Pike on the sidewalk pushing a cute little fixie with the bars hacked down way too small. He was with 5 or 6 very attractive women, or actually girls and he was wearing really tight stretchy black pants and two or three studded belts and a big empty RE Load bag. And then after work winding down at Monorail I’m pretty sure I saw your father-in-law on a Jonny Sundt cross bike. I just saw his reflection in the window and by the time I turned around he was behind a bus but I think it was him.

I read it on line it must be true.

Yesterday I saw a fair weather commuter (FWC) bombing down Pine Street in the bike lane around 8:15am. Displaying an overblown sense of confidence riding between the thin white painted lines as if they extended upward to infinity like the plane of the goal line. As if they offered extra protection, entitlement or enhanced visibility for chuffers in white button down shirts toting laptops on sunny days. When traffic stacked up at Harvard Avenue behind a car waiting to take a left, a car several spots back in line popped out to the right and cutoff FWC. From my perspective it wasn’t even that close and anyway that’s what cars do, and like Robert Hurst says, that’s what traffic is. People stop using turn signals the day they get their license, get used to it. But FWC stopped and went back to yell at the driver who was pulled over near Seattle Central. He yelled “what the fuck was that” and the driver, a young mom with her kid in the front seat just flipped him off. Nothing was accomplished except both parties left with a bad taste in their mouths, and all before 8:30 on a Monday morning. It reminded me of my younger days. But now I realize if I got that pissed off every time a car came within 25 feet of me I wouldn’t last 4 hours.

Today, here in late 2008, I pick my battles and save my energy like Tim Mason.

Out in traffic on a bike the eye contact, the head nod, the hand gestures, the yelling , the expectoration, it’s all there, in your face as a driver. It’s not diluted, censored, redirected, buffered, sheltered, reflected, refracted or protected by the big steel shell of an automobile. It’s right there, it’s real, it’s scary, it’s loud, it’s profane, it’s me and my adrenaline at your window, in your face. Here I am. Rock you like a hurricane.

The other side of that coin is there is nothing protecting me on my bike in traffic from the big steel shell of your automobile.

What Would Mason Do?      WWMD

The reporter from Bloomberg asked me about the $700 billion bailout. I said it was horseshit. But he left that part out of the article There is no doubt however that my poorly informed opinion from the streets of Seattle caused the stock market to plunge at an alarming rate yesterday.

Those guys at DANK bags say, money talks.

But Pham told me, people talk and money buys whiskey.

Cleared the next-day King, all the 4 hours to the Square and the no-charge-new-client-get one-free-courtesy job to 909. Not because I care about the new client or the old ones or you or anything, I just had to take a piss.

Like being led by a seeing eye dog that has to take a shit. You suddenly notice you’re walking a bit faster and then you’re stopped for no apparent reason until it becomes apparent or at least fragrant.

Who’s the center of the universe? You are.

Yes you are.

yes
you
are

if you can identify the Men's room from which this photo was taken

you'll earn yourself  (1) "attaboy"

which equals (.08) of (1) "ah shit"

Sebastian Janikowski attempted a 76 yard field goal today. It was well short...as good as a punt only better.The NFL record field goal is 63 yards. Mr. Janikowski is one of the biggest kickers on earth, bigger than 80% of the population and drinks more than any linebacker in the NFL. No joke. 

He could drink Jason Hanson under the table before noon with his left hand. 

What does this have to do with anything?

What does anything have to do with this. 

Paper paper everywhere
and not a drop of ink
You just can’t find a good pen these days
It’s the end of the urgent delivery business
as we know it
and I feel fine
ABC WLM NWL SLM      SOL         BFD
Call KnR
if you want something done right
then do it right
Pull up a chair     grab
a front row seat on the short bus
You’re a real handful
of front brake on a wet technical descent
brake break broke bust   boom
Whatever         it comes around
welcome     welcome to the boomtown

Originals to the Clerk
Copies to the judge and opposing counsel
Sent via legal messenger
In addition another 16 copies to opposing counsel all over Washington Oregon Idaho Montana California and Canada sent via email

And so it goes

Time to think in one of my favorite men’s rooms. All the tenants on this floor have moved out. Downsized consolidated sub-leased quit foreclosed defaulted moved on. Empty. Seattle is a bit behind the curve with just a hint of denial hanging in the air. The construction boom is still visible. So many cranes on the skyline. 12 construction workers or more in line in front of me every day at the bodega for lunch. Thousands of new condominiums slated to come on line in the next few months. Much new street level retail space. A great deal of new office space opening up going up filling in the retail core urban density. All the while store fronts in the core are sitting empty papered over. Stores and restaurants are going out of business. Shutting down without even a sign on the door. One day it’s open for lunch. The next day it’s empty and dark. I served a notice of default on an icecream shop yesterday. Soon it’ll be another empty storefront. Safeco bought out. WaMu on the brink. Consumer confidence my ass. Dow Jones has the skuds. Your 401k is worth about a buck-fifty. Unemployment statistics are skewed. Unemployed people don’t answer on-line surveys or questions from researchers calling on land lines. Truly unemployed people don’t apply for unemployment and they don’t even exist in the eyes of the census bureau. It’s all a bunch of horseshit hocus pocus fat rich guys talking in hushed tones to rich fat guys wearing dark suits in wood-paneled conference rooms. Interest rates, government buyouts, investments, rescue plans, shifting the burden to the tax payers. Long term. Short term. Band aids hemorrhaging. Whatever.

Cyclically cycling into another cycle on my bicycle.

jeet kune do in the PSP lobby...whatever it takes

 one one nine one bike rack 

Superior Court in and for the County of King

It came from the grassy knoll. Teletubby Hill. Cal Anderson crows prefer Dick’s cheeseburgers but they’ll settle for worms. Not a cloud in the Willie Nelson blue skies. Rose colored glasses outlook. Look out.  Ideal perfect weather. But still there’s some unidentified emotion, barely perceptible uneasiness, a visceral gut feeling. Like the tuna fish the babysitter used to make. It was never as good as mom’s. And I don’t know why. Flat. Not Minneapolis flat but last night’s Big Bear flat. I’m Temple Grandin listening to someone tell me this is beautiful so I half-ass nod and say uhh sure. Sure. I’m looking at the same thing you are but it doesn’t look the same. This aint my first September in the saddle. Getting a little long in the eyebrow. These aren’t the salad days they’re the sauerkraut days.

it's the same on the weekends as the rest of the days

You might be messenger if you’re imitated and disrespected by the same people

You might be a messenger if you’re expected to know the answer to over 1.5 billion stupid questions

You might be a messenger if you’re so drunk they won’t sell you beer at Red Apple

You might be a messenger if you sleep with your key on

You might be a messenger if at least one member of your family believes you could be doing something more important with your life

CornDog photo

a red chainring

a top tube pad for every day of the week

a downtube covered in stickers     and

I'm older than you are

How ya like me now?     bikesnob

You might be a messenger if you snapped a brake cable last Tuesday and ignored it and you’re still riding it out.

You might be a messenger if your bag falls off the x-ray machine at the courthouse and 45 condoms cascade all over the floor.

You might be a messenger if you haven’t taken a shower for 9 days.

You might be a messenger if you recycle your cans inside the courthouse.

You might be a messenger if turning it inside out is as good as washing it.

You might be a messenger if you can smell free food across town.

You might be a messenger if you get your own elevator.


Monday Vocabulary review:

Campagnolo Italian for “not compatible”

Concierge French for ass kisser

Ex Parte Latin for 4:15pm

Flight Attendant Replacements "waitress in the sky"

Kobe Japanese for “put out your cigarette”

Kybo Iowan for honeybucket

Lincoln Town Car Arabic for glorified taxi cab

Roadmaster  messenger for $2.00

Subpoena Latin for “I got something for you”

this is Molly and this is her story

I'm not sure about Jesus but I've put in 12 good years at the Elysian, I like beer,  I know who Dave is, I've been to Whitman College and I think Grinnell is better but I like big schooners...

there's a new album/slideshow growing for your own safety on the phot-o-rama page

Conversation gets the word out
Agitation gets the dirt out
Legislation gets the herd out

Repetition gets… ...boring

Hey I’m getting on an elevator
I’m about to lose you

yeah sorry I’m not a people person
this is my Aunt GunShy
and Uncle HairTrigger
Oh and oh yeah and my cousins
The boy who cried wolf   and
The girl from Ipanema

We’ll meet up around 2 at the aviary
teriyaki beef jerky
spicy chicken yakisoba
beef & bean burritos
half a pound of Jo Jos
KSL DSL DFL
just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale

addiction   distraction
addition   subtraction
plus minus good bad yin yang on off
positive negative
attractive repulsive
meanwhile have another beer

going off-road with those big cross tires?

Yeah, going on the sidewalk.

I shouldn‘t complain

 John Marshall Mantel photoThe New York Times

read more about   Ho in NYC    in today's New York Times

At any given moment, there’s a good chance you’ll find Skunk sleeping soundly in the closet atop an old DANK bag that contains another DANK bag that contains a PAC bag that contains a Timbuk 2 bag. And that sums up my messenger career.

Skunk is sleeping so well because she’s in it for the long haul. Minor fluctuations, disturbances, trends, booms, busts, changes, people, companies, careers. She’s seen them come. She’s seen them go. She’s seen the big picture.


Or maybe she’s sleeping so well because that’s all she does.

You make it a point
to buy organic locally grown produce
but lately you’ve been discouraged because
it’s such a pain in the ass to find parking

You make me kind of sick
Go buy bike
Go by bike
Good bye car

It’s not that easy?
it is that easy
It comes in waves phases layers
Stratigraphy chronology history
Do you see?
Optician Optometrist Ophthalmologist
anthropologist artist cyclist
You get the gist

If you fix other people’s bikes
Does it help your bike karma?
If you steal other people’s bikes
Does it hurt your bike karma?

Yes

Yes

Yes

Pull out a postcard
Not enough for a letter
Try a text message
Safer than a phone call

Once more with feeling
I don’t want one
I want both

Give ‘em an inch and
they’ll take 2.54 cm
Call it even, you’re square
perpendicular right angle

Perfectly acceptable even admirable
A full bar in your office
Discouraged frowned upon  illegal
A beer in my office

That’s not an empty promise
It’s the promise of an empty page
an empty cup an empty bar
As glamorous as a Quonset hut
appetizing as discarded dental floss

Pushing circles into squares
Brake pads rubbing tires low chain dry
Dehydrated toasted twice over
Just over that hill there’s
One more hill

If you want something done right
then do it right

On your left, he said
In a roundabout Seattle way
Clearly he was on my right
passively asking me to say
On your left  as I passed him

But I didn’t I don’t I wouldn’t I won’t

 Ode to Uniform Spoke Tension

 

I think Mr. Chris Murray took this photo.

and Mr. Dan Murray sent me this link about

Mr. Ian picklejuicestrongestriderintheworld

--TreeBeard photo

It was like a party before and after an alleycat, but there was no alleycat, just the party.

And that's the way it was 

hundreds and hundreds more RAGBRAI photos here

A firm handshake, eye contact and a smile are more important to me than a written contract or any paperwork you can come up with. But you just took a wicked shit and ran out of the men’s room with out washing your hands. Have a nice day Mr. Big Shot Attorney, I’m glad I don’t have to shake your hand.

Potato salad sandwiches. Open face bagel melts smothered in pasta salad. Baked potatoes topped with potato chips. Cold spaghetti wrapped in a tortilla. Why would I drink low carb beer? That’s like eating an entire cheesecake and sipping a non-fat latte. That’s like eating 4 Big Macs with fries and sipping a diet coke. That’s like low alcohol whiskey. Don’t get me wrong. I can drink Milwaukee’s Best Light all day long. I’ll drink Busch Light because it’s on sale. I will not go out of my way and pay more money for Michelob Ultra because it’s got less carbs but I‘d like to think I can still live life to the ultra.

Appetite suppressant, nutritional supplement, social lubricant.
Sports recovery drink, breath freshener, attitude adjustment.
Lunch, snack, on the go      anytime.
 
Got beer?
Beer it’s what’s for dinner.
Beer it’s not just for breakfast anymore. 

You think your job sucks? Think your boss sucks?

Email your story to pilderwasser@msn.com and
it will be cut & pasted -as is-

after you read some of these stories, you won’t feel so bad.

the first person to bring me one of these signs, gets a pilderwasser T-shirt

if you bring a metal one with the green arrows, that's a bonus 

...

Come Monday, it'll be alright

All the healthy attitude, pleasant outlook, discipline, motivation and goal oriented focus found briefly over the weekend, wore off by Monday afternoon. By Wednesday, swimming in a fog, staring at an extra large indifference salad with a side of malaise. But by Friday things don’t seem so bad.

Everyone has their own ways to avoid the bummer life

It’s all in what you focus on. If you choose to ignore something, you’re just aiming your focus on something else. Pay attention, ignore, drown out, eat more Cheetos, smoke another pack, suppress it, repress it, displace it, deal with it, distract, go for a walk or view through the bottom of a pint glass. 220...221...whatever it takes.

sub-pop photo

thanks for the shirt Sam. I like kittens but what's the the rmals?

reconnected with an old friend today outside 1001. He kept sneaking up on me when I wasn’t looking as if he wanted something in my bag. I gave him a few peanuts but I think he was more interested in the remnants of a tuna sandwich from a sloppy day camp kid that had lunch in the same spot earlier.


Holding a few Kings, standing by and by.
Electronic filing is taking a bite out of business and idle hands are tools of the brewing company. So I decided to make a list. Then I could go back and check it twice and feel like I accomplished something. It all started when a truck drove by claiming to be an expert gutter cleaner.

Gutter cleaner, leaf blower, weed whacker, grave digger, dog walker, chain tensioner, house painter, divorce lawyer, downtube shifter, hair straightener, left handed putter, art history professor, Honjo fender, Christian Science Monitor, Des Moines Register, baggage handler, beautiful bartender, 3-ring binder, Seattle Legal driver, KnR courier, ABC legal messenger, friendly reminder, backed up sewer, lilac honeysuckle conditioner, play-by-play announcer, designated hitter, pure shooter, left-footed midfielder, outside linebacker, allstar centerfielder, barefooted kicker, sure handed receiver, yoga instructor, puppies & kittens calendar, permanent marker, pawnshop DVD player, mortgage broker, investment banker, meat tenderizer, potato peeler, cherry pitter, apple corer, boring copywriter, hot candy striper, burned out stripper, underwater basket weaver, angry vengeful dispatcher, Texas Instruments calculator, two way pager, smoke jumper, fuzzy pink pipe cleaner, train conductor, cat shit scooper, fingernail polish remover, wedding singer, sleazy photographer, small-time silk screener, 4 D battery vibrator

End of list.

hey Kevin, why didn't you get the red one? 

Seattle traffic is a delicate little ecosystem, easily upset by the slightest change in its surrounding environment or the most subtle disturbance. A sporting event, visiting dignitary, political protesters, road construction or just a dead pigeon in the street. Traffic chokes to a halt, flow ceases and the arteries are blocked. At times walking is faster than driving. And most of the time in the core a bike is the way to go. Like dickstank said, "bike messengers are like helpful parasites, easing constipation in the bowels of the city." 

this time it's for real

until next time

The pendulum keeps swinging. Eventually it will catch up and pass you.
But don’t worry, you’ll catch it on the way back. Or just sit and wait for it.

tonight will be fine

Please, can I just get some advice?

it's all fun and games until somebody poops their pants

Water proof.
It keeps the rain out and it keeps the sweat in.
Would you rather be soaked in rain or soaked in sweat?

Water resistant. Breathable.
It doesn’t really keep the rain out and it sort of lets the sweat out.
Half-assing it both ways just might be better than fully committing one way

middle of the road milquetoast

Would you rather wear a Rock Racing team kit or a Candy Striper Uniform?

you can only choose one and you must wear it to work all day long

Special orders don't upset "us" 

We’ll be right over
No problem
We’ll pick it up in less than a minute and
We’ll have it delivered in less than 10
with a smile
It’s a round trip?
No problem
It’s 36 bankers boxes?
No problem
It’s rural Whatcom County?
No problem
It’s after 6:30pm?
No problem at all

I’ll take six of one, half dozen of the other and couple of those too.

56 once told me, if the Rolling Stones are playing in the background, pay attention, something important is about to happen.

Seattle PI - Mike Kane photo  

7:45am - Friday July 25, 2008 - North Liberty, Iowa

would you pay $30 for a beer hat (plus shipping) made from a 12 pack

or would you prefer to buy a 12 pack for $7.49, drink it and then put the empty box on your head.

Yesterday I got a 30 pack of Beast for $13.99. Drink that and the empty box would look good on anybody.

Why does the nausea seem to hit me in the face when the elevator doors close? This stagnant little cube of office building air is not helping me locate my coordinates in the no-man’s land between drunk and hung-over. But at least I’m not sharing this one with a herd of loud talking backslapping officetrons trying to one-up each other with tales of conspicuous weekend consumption. Stay on the sunny side, always on the sunny side…yeah right. A 42 story elevator ride is plenty of time to shed a layer or two because that ride into town always makes me feel overdressed. It’s because my apartment is so cold which leads to donning too many layers for the downhill bomb into base. And then when pedaling is required it gets too hot. Whatever. I think I’m still drunk. They said this delivery is office service but it’s a Federal subpoena and obviously it should be process service. The date on the messenger slip is five months old there‘s no suite number and they don‘t even know how to fill out the slip. Do you want me to do it right or do you want me to do what you say? I know you don’t know what you’re doing but I also know how to play the game. And I know you will try and change your mind and blame me next week when the attorney blames you. But most importantly I know how to cover my ass. Rubber stamp this. I don’t feel so good. Maybe I should take off this sweater. Maybe I need to take a shit. Maybe I’m closer to hung-over than drunk. I took a shower but I wonder if I smell like beer. If I had eaten some food yesterday would I feel better right now? Maybe I should try drinking water once in a while. I‘ve heard some good things about water. I’m ditching this sweater…oh of course now the elevator stops. On 38. It’s the FedEx woman. I like her. She’s just going up to 39 but she’s sort of attractive in an interesting I‘d-like-to-take-your-clothes-off kind of way. I’m glad I didn’t have all my shirts all the way off when the doors opened. Just another disaster avoided. Another hair-raising close call in the dangerous reckless tattooed pierced rebellious misfit life of a bike messenger. Whatever. Been that. Done there. A few hundred times. I’m still drunk. What time is it?

Process Service at 603 Stewart
actual conversation:

I’m pretty busy here, do you need something?

No I just have a subpoena for you.

How do you know it’s for me?

Because I’ve been here before  (About 25 times, your name is on the door you grumpy old CPA you‘re the only one here and you‘re so served)

Oh.

CMWC in DC, the Vietnam War nurses sculpture 3:30am September 5, 1998

The Big House coffee table Grinnell, Iowa on a spring night in 1991

Cal Anderson Park Seattle 3:30pm August 9, 2008

Arches National Park 9:30 am March 1990

Dust Bunny Hunting 6:07pm August 9, 2008

Take a bunch of photos spanning 20 years, put them in wooden box and shake it up. Then pull out 5 photos and put them in a row. What does it all mean? It means whatever you want it to mean. It means yesterday. It means 18 years ago. It means Cycle Messenger World Championships. It means dust bunnies. It means Boone’s Farm and ruffled shirts. It means it’s a photo essay.

That was now. This is then.

There’s a little slideshow for Mr. Daniel E. Murray starting on the phot-o-rama page. Because we had us a Fury as big as a whale, and it set sail all over the Southwest back in 1990. Visualize cooking hotdogs on the hood of the car in a liquor store parking lot in Reno. Imagine dancing in the sunset off I-80 clutching two peanut butter sandwiches. Throwing rocks in Moab and sunbathing in Salt Lake. The brakes went out in Sacramento, the windshield wipers never worked.

no photoshop here. don't play that game

this shot was taken at 5th & Pike this afternoon

If you stand around long enough the background changes

Free range fish in a fennel cream sauce
Herb roasted red potatoes
Asparagus spears with a twist of lemon

and a milkshake

a singer in a smokey room

the smell of wine and cheap perfume

ebb & flow

peak & trough

compression & rarefaction

amplitude wavelength frequency

cycle

How many times do you think Alor has been to Foster Pepper?

It’s a number that cannot be computed.
An incomprehensible figure.
The equivalent of a theoretical unknown.

Stephen Hawking and Carl Sagan could mull it over.

Call from Foster!
Do you copy Foster?
Call me on the phone from Foster!!!

10-9

What if you wore a white bike helmet, a Credit Agricole cycling cap and a reddish shirt to work on Wednesday August 6? And what if you were dispatched a pickup at One Union at 11:27am? And what if you saw a couple other messengers doing the same thing at the same time on the same day?

One of these kids is not like the others…or maybe all of these kids are just like the others.

Onions & honey
Pickles & cool whip
Garlic & massage oil

yes & yes again

sweat
sweet
so what

a bruise on my ass
near my back pocket
looks surprisingly similar to
an ass-pocket U lock

Who knew?
 

Dank Nextel Coozie.

Once again the guys at DANK have produced a winner. Multitasking efficiency. Keep your finger on the button, keep your hand on the beer. Stand the-fuck by with confidence in style.

Did you get the memo?

August 6, 2008



To:         You

From:     The Man

Subject: Consumer Confidence


Due to rising fuel costs, everything in your life is now more expensive.

Due to rising fuel costs, you will not receive a cost-of-living pay increase this year or next year or the next.

Suck it up.

koo koo ka choo Mrs. Robinson

Sunday afternoon bikes, blue angels, beer and baseball

Is it raining? 

easy like Friday morning 

You say tomato. I say clamato
You say potato. I say burrito
You say honey bucket. I say kybo

You say nonfat decaf. I say what’s the point?
You say low carb beer. I say you’re kidding me
You say human relations. I say bullshit.

You say career. I say inertia.
You say maturity. I say restraint.
You say 401k. I say what day is it?

You say electronic filing? I say it’s about time.
You say college fund. I say get a job.
You say purple crayon. I say scribble away

You say are you my Bucky? I say are you my Becky?
You say sky lobby. I say floor 40.
You say double rush. I say whatever

You say antioxidants. I say box of wine
You say responsibility. I say repeat the question

You say hey. I say ho.

I don't know where I'm going...

...but I sure know where I've been.

If you missed RAGBRAI this year, or even if you didn’t and just want to relive the experience, a good place to start would be this song or try this song too. Then try both at the same time. Place the speakers on a friends bike, turn the volume up too high and have them ride by you a few times so you can experience a the Doppler Effect. Repeat as needed. Then take a nip of this

I need to take a moment to thank Jimbo for everything including the care of our team bus in Grinnell during the “off season” and especially for the storage of my bike. For 357 days my RB-1 sat idle in Jim’s basement. When I arrived in Grinnell the day before RAGBRAI, I retrieved it, scraped the mold off the saddle and handlebars, put air in the tires, lubed the chain and rode it across Iowa without any mechanical issues at all. At the end of the ride I put the old Bridgestone back in Jim’s basement for another 51 weeks of safe keeping. This storage has already saved me $400 dollars in would-be shipping costs to and from Seattle and lots of potential damage from UPS or DHL drivers. Thanks Jim.

You know it was a good vacation when you return to work and can’t remember where anything is. Client names sound funny. Addresses are meaningless and time deadlines seem pointless. The dispatcher said “noon deadline” and I just laughed. I hadn’t really looked at a clock for almost two weeks. (airport clocks don’t count) My responsibilities consisted of putting my clothes on and riding my bike to the next town. The coffee beer continuum was out the window, off the hook, off the chain, in the RAGBRAI zone.

Now I am expected to be certain places on time and play by the rules. Strapped to a Nextel once again.

this is Ian

this is Ian's bike

Ian is one of the memorable characters from RAGBRAI this year. He bought a Schwinn cruiser at a thrift store for $30 and rode it across Iowa. But he didn’t just ride it, he rode the shit out of it. He’s one of the strongest riders I’ve ever seen. If he was on a road bike he could have completed the route twice with the amount of power he put into the pedals of that cruiser.

Ian spent the nights wherever he ended up, because he carried all his own gear, which consisted of a jacket, a sleeping pad and a seemingly endless supply of Yerba Mate and hot water.

Ian has an amazing outlook on life and it was mpossible not to laugh when you spoke with him. We encountered him daily along the route and made him an honorary member of the collective. As you can see he’s sporting a pilderwasser sticker on his thermos.

In this pass-through town Ian appeared with a stack of ham, some cream cheese and a jar of pickles. He made pickle rolls for everyone, including second servings for a couple local kids. When the pickles ran out he topped off the jar of juice with a bottle of rum and passed it around.

Ride on Ian.

Just got home from an epic journey. The bike ride across Iowa was great. The airline travel to and from Iowa sucked. After a 9 hour layover in DFW the first thing I did upon arrival back in Seattle this morning was call in “jacked up” and take another day off work. Then as soon as I got home I hung up a 10’ x 3’ Michelob Ultra RAGBRAI banner in my apartment. A member of the pilderwasser collective liberated it from a beer garden somewhere last week. It’s off-gassing like a cheap shower curtain but it sure looks good.

There’s no I in team. There’s one I in pilderwasser.
Pillow officer. Pillow biter. Pussy whistle. Pisser water.

Whatever. it’s a collective.

My bed, no my bad, no it’s my bed.
I haven’t slept in my own bed since July 17.
489 miles on a bike across Iowa.
489 cans of cheap beer consumed.
I’m exhausted.
Who knew??

I brought home about 100 photos from the Iowa adventures and perhaps 33 of them are worth sharing here. And I plan to share them on a new RAGBRAI photo page then a slide show and maybe I’ll regurgitate a few anecdotes too. When Dan sets up a remote server, we can link to a fiesta of 3000 photos from many people over the past 4 years. Stay tuned

Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa RAGBRAI

a little bit of this

a bit of that

Call it a vacation if that makes you feel better. I call it a busman’s holiday. Leaving my bike messenger job to spend a week riding a bike across Iowa. But it’s not just a bike ride. It’s a party. It’s a circus of 15,000 cyclists. It’s a road trip on bikes from the Missouri River to the Mississippi. It’s an annual convention, meeting up with old friends, friends I haven’t seen since the last time I was in Iowa. Once again I encourage all of you to experience RAGBRAI if you ever get a chance to take a week off in late July. There is nothing on earth quite like it.

The messenger lifestyle is ideal training for enjoying RAGBRAI to the fullest. Consistently consuming large quantities of beer and inconsistently consuming large quantities of food. A lot of people can ride a bike. Not a lot of people can hop back on their bike after consuming a Bimbo’s Burrito and two pitchers of Rainier and keep it together or hold it down. Who can eat the Zum Zum special in 7 minutes? The messenger can.

When the calendar turns June into July, it’s time to really focus and get serious. Listening to Steve Miller’s Greatest Hits a few times a week seems to help as does applying chapstick SPF 15 or higher. As you taper down your training in the final days before the big week, interval training your alcohol consumption will payoff in beer gardens all across the state of Iowa.

I’ll be back in about 10 days.

until then…
No Bluetooth. No Blackberry. No blogging. No bullshit.
But there will be plenty of beer bagels bananas bicycles and beautiful women on bicycles drinking beer.

Cheers

Sincerely

for real

 and  you say he's just a friend

Cool Guy Park

March 12, 2008

April 24, 2008

July 12, 2008

it is what you think it is

stop here on red 

this must be the place

this time it's for real

 Sponsors include:

Counterbalance Bicycles
Mobius Cycles
20/20 cycles
DANK Bags
pilderwasser

around 11:50am southbound 5th Avenue near Pike Street.

Busses pull over to pick people up. That’s what busses do. Bike messengers go around stopped busses. That’s what bike messengers do.

A bus stopped in the right lane and I went around it, still in my lane, cruising in the 2 or 3 foot gap. No big deal. Happens all the time. But I guess it made the guy in the center lane nervous so he honked at me. I put out my left hand palm-up wondering what he was honking at. Then he pulled up next to me and yelled “the rules of the road apply to you too.” and I said “that’s right Bro” as I knocked on the passenger door of his large SUV three times with enthusiasm. Because I didn’t break any rules and I was in a hurry to file at the courthouse by noon.

When I touched his vehicle he got a little more fired up and shadowed me up 5th to about Seneca when he yelled “you see these lights?” and I just kept riding because I didn’t see any lights, riding only two feet from the side of his car I didn‘t notice much except that he might pin me into the next bus that‘s was stopped ahead.

Then he really starts yelling “Hey! Hey! You see this? PULL OVER” and he flashes his badge. I saw his badge and then I noticed his moustache. Then I finally stopped and got off my bike at 5th & Madison mostly worried about not making my noon filings. I didn’t say a word, just looked at the ground and feigned the respect that this law enforcement official seeks in his daily work life.

But officer unmarked SUV never got out of the car. He just yelled at me some more about rules of the road and then drove away. That was no SPD officer, I guess he was some sort of bullshit Federal Cop or maybe he was a Podunk detective from Chehalis that had never seen a bike messenger ride in traffic. The unmarked Seattle SUVs are obviously cop cars with all the do-dads and accessories. It was just a silver SUV with an angry moustache behind the wheel.

I made my court filings with copies to the judge’s mailroom by 11:58am.

I’ve been honked at and yelled at more in the last two weeks than in all of the last year. Is it because my riding style has changed? Hell no. If anything I’m slower and more cautious in my old age and I have a healthy respect for most motorists.

I think it’s because of rising gas prices.

Bike Messengers

helping the rich get richer since 1896

Predictable, reliable, accessible, comfortable
like a chicken Caesar salad
It’s better not to get too comfortable, overconfident or cocky. Continually playing the home field advantage, retracing the old habit trails. Playing big fish in the same old pond where everybody knows your name. You’re a badass back home but we’re not in Kansas anymore. Just like going out for a ride and getting a beer in a bar in Enumclaw or Cle Elum can be an eye opener, taking a digger once in a while can be good for you. It doesn’t have to be a full-on agony-of-defeat smash up. Even a slow motion keel over on the sidewalk does the trick. Or a drunken fall on top of a friends bike right in the doorway of your favorite bar will humble you for a while. A wake-up call from gravity is a good thing. A gentle reminder of who’s really in charge here. A little road rash souvenir to take back and show your friends.


Learned helplessness
Government worker syndrome
Cruising on auto pilot
Remember there’s always a manual override option
Use it
You don’t have to read the instruction manual but
Figure it out

Yes
Self contained. Self sufficient. Independent.
Like bike touring across the country with two panniers
As opposed to
a fully-supported ride from one bed & breakfast to another

when you can down a shot and bite into a pickled spear of asparagus
You smelled it here first

3 sweaters on 3 speeds

When you look good you feel good
nothing looks better than a hand-knit sweater
On a bicycle

This is a pie plate for the Bike Snob If you lived around here Mr. Bike Snob, I’d bring you this whole Huffy. The bike shop guy is crazy, so he wouldn’t sell me the pie plate or even the rear wheel he’d try to sell me the whole bike for $400.

To gain some perspective. See the big picture. See things in a new light. Some folks travel to exotic locations. Some seek solitude. Some enjoy cosmopolitan metropolitan social buzz. Some enjoy MountainDew style extreme sports. Some just like to hear themselves talk about themselves.

I enjoy pondering life’s great mysteries while perched high atop a barstool.

“Dude, you look pretty faded. Have you been here a while?”
“yup since 1996.”

Yellow Cab, Orange Cab, Blue Cop. You all drive Crown Victorias and you’re all annoying.

If I only ride my bike on sunny days in June
Will you still respect me in February?

If I ride home with you this evening
Will you still respect me in the morning?

If I drink 6 beers in the morning
Will you still respect me in the evening?

If I ride a Segway
Will you respect me at all?

the sophomores are making fun of the freshmen
the seniors want to get in their pants

Old Enough for me

With plenty of friends in low places
there’s no reason to take any shit from “higher-ups”
Especially unreasonably rude misdirected strange ones

What it is.
What is it?
It is.

If you think your coffee will taste better
In a light-colored mug
It will

If you think your lunch will taste better
In a yellow bowl
It will

If you say it’s all in your mind
- in your mind it is
There’s no better place for it to be

Consumer confidence is holding low. Lower than it’s been since 1973. I can make things like that up and they’re believable because they’re not too far from the truth. Inflation continues. As rising fuel costs percolate throughout the economy and nearly every consumer is being touched in some way. Touch me I’m sick. You may be in denial as you say the prices of your favorite products haven’t gone up. But look closely and you’ll notice clever marketing and attractive packaging, giving you less product for the same old price. New & Improved. Longer lasting flavor. Long lasting odor control. Brighter Whites. Restful nights.

A consumer lacking confidence narrows his focus to the essentials like beer and cat litter. Today is CETMA rack day in the 98122. A 27# bucket of cat litter trucked home for Skunk and Brad. And soon an 18 pack of canned carbonated Yakima Valley hopped malted barley pop will be purchased, strapped down with a bungee cord and ridden to a local park to be consumed among friends.

Hey I’m no bike snob. As the fixed gear gallery approaches 8,000 check out my Soma in there around #150.  I’m all for getting more people out riding bikes. All kinds of people, all kinds of bikes doing whatever wherever however they want as long as they stay away from me.

If Paul Allen wants a street car, Paul Allen gets a street car. Even if it’s a $55,000,000.00 joke that’s slow, doesn’t really go anywhere, nobody rides and is referred to as the S.L.U.T.

If Bill & Melinda Gates want a left turn signal, they’ll get it, and whatever else they want

Texture  rhythm  syntax  context
Q-factor crank arms Quick-release cantilevers
It’s not you, it’s me.       We’ve grown apart
High flange   double butted   three cross   deep section
round  true  tension  dish
I need to focus on my career maybe go back to school
thread pitch  shell size  spindle length
loose ball   sealed bearing   cartridge
I met someone else. I’m not attracted to you anymore
It’s just not fun…not what it used to be
130 bcd  not compatible with Campy
Feeling pressure from my family
25.4... 28.6... 31.8 can we all get along
I want to travel. You'd like to settle down
High limit  low limit  bent derailleur hanger

I need more...won’t settle for OK
You call it 29"   I call it 700c
Can't you see    it’s all 622 bsd

Mr. Art KNR with a prototype nipple driver onesie.

Show me the money.
I’ll show you a one-of-a-kind onesie or two or three.

Show me the way.
I’ll show you the door.

Show me a breath mint that will mask the scent of 6 beers.
I’ll show you a high school girl drinking lunch in her car.

However, school is out for the summer.
Bring on the summer associates.

Long stares. Short skirts.
Long lunches. Short attention spans.
Long days. Short nights.
Long winters. Short summers.

<<<>>>

There is some dispute about who should get credit for inventing the bicycle and exactly what year it was. There is no doubt however that the first pedal-driven bike was a fixed-gear. What I’m saying is, they’ve been around for a while, since day one. But everybody has their own opinion about fixie kids these days.

And finally, to the Stealth Messenger Crew…the last company in North America to use radios, real old-school radios. We’ll talk about Nextel and Stealth some other time. But this cheese is for all of you:  Sara this bites.  And Travis, take these Broken Wings .  Keep the volume up as you step inside. Word.

kind of blue

Rectum? It nearly killed him.

J. Treebeardsley photo

That bucket that catches all the overflow, mispours, splashes, spills, foamovers. That bucket that the bartender emptys at the end of the night. That bucket - that’s how I feel.

Thank god yesterday was Thursday. (TGYWT)

Word.

Zoom in, take a closer look at this fine creation Clair made

 
All you kids that have books checked out from the pilderwasser library, you know who you are, I know who you are. If you're done with the books please return them to my apartment.

Snuggled up, curled up, bundled up on the couch with a good book. Order a pizza, watch a movie, make popcorn, red wine, New York Super Fudge Chunk, turtle neck sweater and fuzzy slippers…in June.

10-9 I can't hear you

Nipple Driver Onesies

coming soon...

here's Nick in a one-of-a-kind quality of life vest

It was a dark and stormy night…actually it was 11:27am in Seattle on June fucking 5th. You can call it mist, if that makes you feel better. Or showers, sprinkles, dew, precipitation, haze, fog, wetness. It’s rain. Yes it is raining. It was raining. It will rain again. I thought my legs were getting tan but it was just rust, road grime, chain lube, brake pad anodized rim juice, motor oil, dirt, exhaust and everything or anything else that ends up in the street and can splash onto me.

Put that on a postcard and mail it.

it rubs the lotion on its skin

Some messengers believe in an angry, vengeful dispatcher. One that punishes them for their sins and even for their slight indiscretions. These messengers are always fearful, repenting, kissing ass, saying their 45 rosaries per hour, going to confession and so on.

I believe in a higher level of consciousness. A greater power. An unfathomable energy. A place where it all makes sense. And in this place that cannot be described there is not just an all-seeing all-knowing dispatcher but so much more. so much more that it’s pointless to even try to talk about it here at street level. But I do know that these angry vengeful dispatchers will get what’s coming to them.

RUSH! Yeah, I copy rush…whatever…it’s all the same

Traditionally when the first of the month falls on Sunday, government workers have a hard time updating their automated date stamps and they need a little nudge to correct them. Today is not May 33, 2008. Today is my Oh Six - Oh Two - Oh Eight... Oh yeah.

Check out the gadget bottle

Check out the RB-1

It all goes back to Spokane, WA 

and Thanks to Bill Strickland for the plug

word 

perception is reality

it is what it is

you think