Jackass

Acceptance this year...and maybe something more.

I accept there are certain things I can/can't do, things I am tasked with that I know I can never accomplish. No fatalism; NO in fact, this year has been quite an amazing experience.

It seemed summertime was full of a kind of hazy bliss, a time to reflect, discover some new qualities and elements in my own life from the life of others.

Now things have transformed. I've learned to stop chasing cats. Maybe it is time to start focusing on myself...perhaps I was too willing to be there, without first conquering my own mind, problems, goals, etc.

I think my sub-enlightenment reached its zenith sometime back then, in August.

Yet still I draw a blank page...there's nothing here; whiteout conditions. The page blisters my skin as I try to muster a few short words through whatever blizzard occupies this space. So I need to fill a page with a few blank words, need to flush something out...

It's bleak. Someone is looking up at me, a girl, noticing I'm 'here' but I'm not there. I'm tempted to give an answer that shows she only got part of what I was asking. A day with modifiers and exquisite adjectives...self describing, self serving words to describe these words...

The language of her textbook is confusing her, as she stares vaguely at the pages and away from me, wondering what the world would be like if she had superpowers. I wonder what it would be like to sail the open sea.

I’m rubbing my chin down staring up at the popcorn-sealing thinking about its noise-reducing properties…a sigh of release spreads out in the walls and over me, a warm blanket under which to foster some ideas...

The reluctant I staggers on for a minute in this conversation we are having; horrible music is pounding away at the pavement and in the colors of the background. Synesthesia, for short. An entire underground history is holding this story together, if you could say this is any story at all. Nope. No story. No birth or death of anything beautiful, nothing outlandishly tragic…just you, fingers...and you brain.

Hello brain! Augmenter of my dreams, my imagination, my culmination of hopes, the harbinger of ME... which as of now, is running on worn-out bearings; puffing fumes with an intake manifold clogged with pumice... and all the bullshit of the world.

Hold that thought, while I switch out the coffee filter.

Ultimately, I think I need new space, new skin in which to slither around in.

"Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race."

- H. G. Wells

Goodnight My Someone

Haven't been blogging much lately. I think I've needed some time to reprise this cadence cadenza...

Today I moved about the sleepy Sunday streets of San Diego. I slept in all day, woke up late around 4:30pm. The light was fading as soon as I took to the streets. My priorities have been shot for the day.

Fall is setting in. It's an electric experience. The combination of warm days, cool evenings and the brisk air adds a tingle through my central nervous system as I swoop around my route through the metropolis.

Today I feel that there is an endocrinology of elation and despair, a chemistry of mystical insight, and; in life and our relation to the universe, an astrophysics of changing moods.

Time and again we’re faced with the parable of existing as humans, coping with the might of the forces around us…and I see civilization and modernity collapse into a sort of escapism. This idea is symbolically reinforced in the steel frame of this bicycle; the feeling, more than the idea in some ways, of going somewhere, of "getting away." It is in escapism that we begin to lose ourselves; a reminder by the nature which had us as we are; many things today for myself remain aloof.

I miss someone intensely. She's very far away, I may have screwed things up...

But maybe this is the fuel for the fires of a literary motif of something grand, a book, a collection of writings, sketches, and examples entitled, "Blue Machine." It will be the focus of an intense, ongoing project.

Blue Machine

The title of my new book project/collective writings...


'Comic sands grazed his eyes. The evening sounded the myriad of conversations as the 'civilized' world hummed and whistled around in broken glasses and neon signs as drunks fumbled for the keys to their easy rides. With caution guided by the invisible things he cruised like a missile torn through the skies of Fallujah on a hot summer night in the midst of an metropolitan uprising...'

-Blue Machine, excerpt Ch ??

This is a work in progress. Unlike some of my other writings, I'm not too concerned about story, plot. This collection could weave in-and-out of the traffic of a novel, but no to be so convoluted and grounded in an actual story. Do I need a story? No. This is a collection of writing based solely around bicycling.

I'm thinking of getting some other folks involved, incorporating some photography or an art project involving an old road bike frame...

More soon.

Thou hast returned from the void of pavement and urban infrastructure! Damn it feels good to be back! Oh hello Cadence Cadenza!

Back on the bike. I spent the last couple of weeks working/hanging around an old house (not Michael Keenan's) making repairs, adding some step-stones in the front yard whilst really getting a taste for what it would be like if I was married and had a house of my own. 'Spiritual Camp 2010' so-to-speak. It was fun to be around my friend J, watching her as she worked on a few projects and participating in house-hold duties.

For those last few weeks in August, I felt completely alive. Something about hangin' out around old houses...man.


I cycled there everyday. Tasty holding true. I managed to bend the front rim ever so slightly while I was running an errand - I was getting burritos for myself and J and managed to nudge the bag (with burritos) between the front fork and rim. I must have bent it (and maybe some spokes) because now the wheel wobbles a hair.

Oh well...

Looking forward to many more nights of cycling bliss...stay tuned.

Fixed Stupidity

I have no idea why people ride fixed gear bicycles.

You can't coast on fixed gear. You are always pedaling and wasting energy. It sucks whether the ground is flat or when going uphill/downhill.

Fixed bikes are slower than a multi-speed or single speed bikes. There is a risk of the pedals making contact with the ground during high-speed cornering which could subsequently cause the rider to loose control of the machine.

The Fixed configuration is bad for a rider's knees: The resistance of the turning cranks greatly increases stress on the knees which some claim can lead to injury due to eccentric contraction of the knee muscles.

Probably my biggest issue with Fixed geared bikes is they are extremely dangerous. A rider MUST be able to stop when they NEED TO STOP. Hence, we have BRAKES.

That said, it makes no sense whatsoever to abandon safety for aesthetics. Fixies are incredible to look at...sure. Some have dazzling paint jobs, custom V-Wheels, etc...


Fixies: They are meant for closed circuit racing. There are few dangers on the track except other bicyclists. Not so for the urban or street environments where cars and people could shoot out of nowhere. As a bicyclist you become a hazard not only to others, but yourself as well.

Riding a Fixie is a death warrant; as is riding without a helmet. It's stupid...

Remember, safety first, kids.

Dating A Schwinn Traveler

After weeks of anguish and boredom, I finally have my blue, 12-speed baby back and in working order!

The bike is nowhere near cherry, but looks amazing with new 27" rims and low-profile Bontranger 27 1/8" Select B tires.

Now if the weather would only improve...feels like Portland in San Diego. It's July already!

Where the hell is the sun?!

Anyways, hoping on many future mystic nights with friends riding around town, if I can coral them together some hot summer night...the stuff of dreams!