pilderwasser

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