“On one page of the book, I amuse myself imagining a society sufficiently tolerant for people to swap pornographic magazines quite happily with complete strangers in the same train compartment.”
–Catherine Millet
In 2001 this book hit the shelves, and it was nowhere on my radar. When the 20th anniversary edition came out with its New Afterword by the author, it was still way outta my wheelhouse.
Then one day recently, reading Maggie Nelson’s Bluets she refers to a line or two from Millet’s book. That got it on my radar, got me a used copy on eBay and got me into reading it on the train.
I spent $3.33 on these three little academy awards and three 7-sided weekly pill reminders.
gold is the new gold below behold sevenfold gold + 3 more gold components. Currently seven of the ten members in this group are from UW Surplus. Composition continues continuously.
On Tuesday November 1, 1988 I went to a Van Halen concert in Ames, Iowa with a few college friends. That much is true.
The concert was not very memorable. I do recall that Alex Van Halen’s drum kit was HUGE and rose up and down about 30 feet on a mechanical lift. And I remember getting hit in the head with a lighter that someone hurled across the coliseum. I pocketed that lighter and kept it for years.
On the drive back to Grinnell, we did not wait out a hail storm in a 7-11 parking lot. But we could have. I can almost see it. Selective memory. Recombinant recall. Phantom nostalgia. Fictional nonfiction.
This hail storm photo I found in the Atmospheric Sciences recycling bin turned into a postcard that evoked that Van Hagar concert. I sent it to Professor David Gerard in Appleton, Wisconsin. He sent it back as a component of a care package. Long story short, there was no postmark or cancellation on the stamp, so I silkscreened some more features on the front and mailed it back to Appleton. Round trip and a half. Out & back & out again.
"give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it and I shall move the world"
–Archimedes
grinding home uphill out of the saddle on the Poprad, there was a disturbance emanating from my bottom bracket area: a cricky creaky icky squeaky unpleasantly embarrassing sound.
I finally got around to it this weekend.
However, when I first took an 8mm swing at the non-drive side bolt that holds the crankset together, I found it to be wicked-tight. After a very brief youtube check-in, I was reassured that I was on the right track. The youtube dude propped the driveside crank on blocks of wood to gain leverage on the nondrive side crank bolt. I took a different approach.
give me a cheater bar long enough and I will bust that bolt loose. Pig Boy would be proud if he could’ve seen me utilize the Cannondale Police cheater bar set. One over the crank arm, one over the 8mm wrench… …easy peasy like Sunday morning. That bolt broke loose. I pulled it all apart, removed the cranks and bottom bracket and greased the shit out of it, all of it. Then I put it back together and took a little test ride to the tennis courts with Junior Junior.
There are books piling up here and there. Today the mail carrier delivered The Sun and The New Yorker and another used book from eBay, adding to the pile. There are other back-burner piles too and a little pile at the mothership as well. There are not enough coffee breaks and train rides in my day to keep up with it all if my attention span for written material hovers in its current state. Fortunately it cycles through cycles, phasing in and out, now and then, more or less.
This recent work from the prolific Palo Alto artist, Thai Bui, speaks to me on several levels. Thai’s creativity, productivity and resource utilization are all top-notch. His work inspires a scrappy artist like me. I like the way he combines various elements and materials for an end product like no other.
"Free Beer Tomorrow" signs always bring me joy. Toss in a crab and a forklift and it’s quite a concoction.
As I smiled and stared at this work my mind travelled to a forklift photo. Not just any old stock photo, but one I took one day while I was standing by, kicking rocks at Two Union. So I reached into my photographic memory to find it, and then I found it. It’s all coming back to me, 17 years later. Full circle. Full disclosure. Full on Kevin’s mom.
Q: Why'd you take a picture of a forklift?
A: because it was there
What if you saw a forklift moving a large FREE DRINKS TOMORROW sign down Union Street and there was a giant crab waddling along next to it holding a tether?
Many moons ago one of my neighbors put a stack of Klosterman books in the little free library and I snagged all of them. I read Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs and then passed it on to Russell. Then I read a couple stories in this collection before stashing it away in my book collection at the Mothership.
Today thumbing through the pile for some reading material, this book called out to me. Ideal subject matter for a dark, gloomy, overcast Seattle morning with a 167% chance of rain.
I sincerely appreciate Klosterman in small doses. Short stories are just the ticket. His wide ranging intellect is impressive, from music, to football, to science, to crime, history, geography, psychology, cats, food, sex, alcohol, you name it. I wouldn’t want to be in the car with him on a long road trip. But I enjoy his short stories. Fictional Nonfiction is right up my alley.
We were browsing in a used bookstore yesterday when Junior-Junior found these shit-list tags to help me - and to help you too - get the hint. 100 cute little post-it notes with arrows and various shit variations.
I’ve had this sign for years. 5+ years ago somebody somehow knocked it off a sign post where the Burke-Gilman crosses Brooklyn. I eyed it on the ground for days and days until I finally picked it up on an electric ass bathtub. I like to think I didn’t steal it, I just offered it a new home. Taken out of context and put back in, in my garage.
Later on I added the 7s. A pair of UW Surplus address numbers to create 07s. If that means nothing to you that’s ok. It speaks to me and my bike messenger history.
Not until yesterday did I notice the official sign code:
Spot on. How could I have not noticed that before? I walk past that sign so many times a day, everyday. On a Saturday fork-swap-day multiply by 10. Have we talked about this already? Pondering life’s problems with a can of Rainier sometimes opens my eyes to new things. Or it helps me see old things in new ways:
Ellen Forney knows what’s what. She knew what was up years and years ago when she designed the remover-installer and all the surrounding artwork you saw in the stranger and on the posters and flyers on telephone poles all over Capitol Hill in the 90s.
I often look back on it and smile. If only I had that blue 20th anniversary edition, all my problems would be solved.
Over the past couple months I’ve been collecting scraps and watching a few YouTubes to improvise the fork swap on my new-used Poprad. Remover-Installers. The final piece of my multistep puzzle was the crown race installer: a scrap of 1.25” copper pipe that will slide over the steer tube and rest on a headset spacer to drive the crown race home on my new Surly fork. I know a guy that knows a little something about plumbing.
I could go to a bike shop and pay a real mechanic to do this. I could go to BikeWorks and ask them to use the real tools. I could buy the real Park Tool crown race remover for $365 and the real Park Tool crown race installer for $110 and the real Park Tool star nut installer for $30. But why would I do any of that stuff when I can stand around in my garage and ponder life's problems with a can of Rainier.
it's happy hour somewhere.
Note the half-ass star nut installer: a 1/2" socket with a star nut bolted on. Pound the shit out of it to around 10mm. Then enjoy a breakfast burrito with a red Rainier.
Today is the day I actually finally got around to the Surly fork.
the fork swap is done
with a crusty-old-man stack of headset spacers.
I need to actually ride it and tweak the tweaks.
my removers & installers got the job done but it was pretty scrappy and nothing to brag about.
Years ago, like 16 or so, I took this photo off-the-Banana-Republic-glass of Rumberg and Gigo sitting at Monorail. Some time last year I took a black & white print of it, glued it to cardboard, called it a postcard then set it aside for months. This week I mailed it to Foster. She had it with her at 5th & Pike yesterday and took those photos. Completing the circle. Out & Back. Roundtrip.
I got this book from Foster at a recent Big Time Book Club meeting. As I slowly read it here and there it started to grow on me. But not until I began to learn more of Mitchell’s oil painting, did the book really really speak to me.
It doesn’t fall into any easy category and I don’t want to say too much because I want you to read it and form your own opinions.
This morning I achieved “QUEEN BEE” on spelling bee for the first time ever, discovering all 18 possible words. I shared it with 22 Heather & 37 Mike. It’s all about today’s EQUINOX the pangram as well as the calendar date to commemorate.
Several hours later as I was digging up postcard fodder, I stumbled upon this solstice image I’m sharing here like it’s so 16.25 years ago bro.
37 pointed out the daylight hours and loss thereof. This solstice throwback is my first second third fourth fifth sixth seventh stage of denial moving forward looking back.
It seems just yesterday, we were rolling milquetoast AI-generated haikus welcoming the bro-dawgs back to campus. Now here it is, one year later. Time flies. The culture shock never fails to shock me, as 52,316 students return to campus, as well as faculty and staff.
Taken out of context. One way or another, I have no recollection of the events in question. Therefore I can neither confirm nor deny any allegations. However, those arrow toothpicks look a lot like the batch I scrounged off the ground outside the Old Fisheries Building some time back. They sure came in handy in the left hands of these petite plastic yellow flagger guys whose left hands are hollowed and ready to hold on to something.
If you knew that Oriental Trading Company was owned by Warren Buffett would it influence your decision on where to purchase petite plastic people?
