Where Is My Mind?

Which is also the title of my favorite Pixies song. Okay, it's the only song I know by them. Which is not a reflection on the band as much as a reflection of how musically lazy I am.

Reading through the five hundred and seventy-six cycling blogs and websites I follow this morning I realized yesterday was Critical Mass. What the balls, this month is over already? Where have I been? And why didn't someone remind me it was the last Friday of the month yesterday? I feel like a failure as a local cyclist. I really need to get a cell phone; I had my Google Calendar reminding me about crap like this via text all the time. And I'm sure my girlfriend would really like to be able and call me to see if I'm alive when I'm running late. Plus I'd like to have the Internet in my pants at all time.

My new schedule and job responsibilities are definitely keeping me busy and making the days fly by. Before I know it I've missed my first break and need to take a lunch, and then my shift is up seemingly as soon as I sit down again. Helping 35+ people fills up the day pretty quickly, and I enjoy it a ton so far. Well, helping some people more than others. There's always favorites and villians. And the interesting thing about this particular team of support agents is that we're the first team they go to right after training until they move to a more permenant one. Sometime in the next couple of weeks about eighteen of my seasoned agents will be cycled out to make room for people who don't know shift from shinola.

In more upbeat knews (hurr, that typo is way two funny too me write now) you're lookin' at the newest contributing member of A Year of Bike Commuting.com, which I've been reading for over a year and was one of the first cycle-related websites I started to follow during my inception into two-wheeled transport. I sent the fine folks in Denver an e-mail with a grotesque amount of links to this blog as proof that I can mash a keyboard and huge run-on sentences detailing my meager commuting chops.

After hearing nothing back in what felt like ages (but was like four days) I sent a threatening/pleading follow up e-mail and was added to the roster. Then I read this morning that the gentlemen responsible for granting my access was doored and had to go to the hospital. I hope that's not a sign of some sort. Get well soon Will.

This morning as I changed for work in the handicap stall (it's the only place big enough for my vanity mirror) it occured to me that now I have a seperate, dedicated place to post my cycling misadventures. As most of the crap I put up here is either centered around or prompted by a bike ride I wonder how the content of this blog will shift. Should I post copies in both places? That seems a little silly. Maybe I'll just put links up to the stuff I write for AYOBC. We'll see what the shape of blog to come is, I guess.

All kinds of other fears and worries have sprung up as well: What if they don't like me? What if the AYOBC readers take offence to my craphazard writing style and willful spelling and puncuation mistakes? Even though I am from the Nor' West and the blog is based out of Denver, will my East Coastedness be met with scorn? I know how us Westerners feel about East Coast people. One thing I've never done is write with any kind of a deadline or expectation, and the former probably won't be present the latter definitely is. Even if it's all in my own mind. I don't want to freeze up and start writing sucky! What if the other writers make fun of me! It's a miniature version of the first day of high school mixed in with meeting your gal's parents for the first time.

Today is my Friday, bitches! I get off at 2:30 and we'll head to our new place of residence to turn in the application and the first month's rent. A month of overlapping apartments will allow us to move in slowly and take some time, which is good for a pregnant girlie and our general dispositions.

It looks like it's going to rain on me as I ride home... As long as that wind stays outta my grill I won't care, but Jenny gets a little upset when her bottom bracket gets all gritty.

Have a good weekend, y'all.

- David

Pregnent Meth Mini-van

White Ninja understands me. I used to pull this crap all the time.

- David

These Kids Is Harder Than I'll Ever Be *EDIT*

*EDIT* All these pics are broken for some reason right now. It's dumb. You can still click them to see the pic though. Sorry!

From Shorpy.com:
Raymond Bykes, Western Union No. 23, Norfolk Va. Said he was fourteen. Works until after one a.m. every night. He is precocious and not a little "tough." Has been here at this office for only three months, but he already knows the Red Light District thoroughly and goes there constantly. He told me he often sleeps down at the Bay Line boat docks all night. Several times I saw his mother hanging around the office, but she seemed more concerned about getting his pay envelope than anything else.

It's so crazy for me to live in a place that has history. Out in the West we had only a little. I know it's only been two years but I feel thoroughly transplanted here. You can only be a native of one place, but my little portion of Virginia has permeated me so much that it feels like I'm from here.

From Shorpy.com:
Waco, Texas. September 1913. "Messenger boy working for Mackay Telegraph Company. Said fifteen years old. Exposed to Red Light dangers."

From Shorpy.com:
Dallas, October 1913. "Messenger boy in the heart of the Reservation (Red Light). Prostitutes run back and forth. Business beginning at mid-day. I saw messenger boys and delivery boys for drug stores from 15 years upward. Some still younger told me that they go there. This was in spite of a strong agitation being waged to close up the resorts."

From Shorpy.com:
November 1913. Shreveport, Louisiana. "Fourteen-year-old Messenger #2 for Western Union. Says he goes to the Red Light district all the time."

From Shorpy.com:
Nashville, November 1910. "George Christopher, Postal Telegraph messenger #7, fourteen years old. Been at it over three years. Does not work nights."

From Shorpy.com:
Houston, October 1913. Marion Davis, Messenger #21 for Bellevue Messenger Service. Fourteen years old. "Been messenger, off and on, for two years. Not supposed to go to the Reservation [Red Light] under sixteen years, but I do just the same. The boss don't care and the cops don't stop me."

Fuck yeah, kid. Fuck yeah.

From Shorpy.com:
Houston, October 1913. "Eleven-year-old Western Union messenger #51. J.T. Marshall. Been day boy here for five months. Goes to Red Light district some and knows some of the girls."

From Shorpy.com:
Houston, Texas. October 1913. "Fourteen-year-old Western Union Messenger #43. Works until 10:30 p.m. Goes to Reservation [red light district] some."

From Shorpy.com:
October 1913. Houston, Texas. "Jeff Miller. A young delivery boy for Magnolia Pharmacy. This is especially bad for him as he has recently returned from the Seabrook Reform School where he had spent a year. He would not tell me why he was sent there."

From Shorpy.com:
October 1913. Houston, Texas. Curtin Hines. Western Union messenger #36. Fourteen years old. Goes to school. Works from 4 to 8 p.m. Been with Western Union for six months, one month delivering for a drug store. "I learned a lot about the 'Reservation' [Red Light] while I was at the drug store and I go there sometimes now."

Goes to school and works a job at fourteen years old. I'm officially a pansy.

From Shorpy.com:
November 1913. Shreveport, Louisiana. "Percy Neville, 11 years old. Messenger boy #6 for Mackay Telegraph Company. He has been messenger for different companies for four years. Goes to the Reservation [red light district] every day."

From Shorpy.com:
November 1913. Shreveport, Louisiana. Howard Williams, 13-year-old delivery boy for Shreveport Drug Company. He works from 9:30 a.m. to 10:30 p.m.; has been here three months. Goes to the Red Light every day and night. Says that the company could not keep other messenger boys, they work them so hard.

From Shorpy.com:
Waco, Texas. November 1913. Isaac Boyett: "I'm de whole show." The twelve-year-old proprietor, manager and messenger of the Club Messenger Service, 402 Austin Street. The photo shows him in the heart of the Red Light district where he was delivering messages as he does several times a day. Said he knows the houses and some of the inmates. Has been doing this for one year, working until 9:30 P.M. Saturdays. Not so late on other nights. Makes from six to ten dollars a week.
(Shorpynote: Isaac was born March 20, 1901, and died in May 1966 in Waco.)

This kid is one of my favorites.

From Shorpy.com:
Preston DeCosta, 15 years old. Messenger #3 for Bellevue Messenger Service in San Antonio, Texas. October 1913. I ran across him while he was carrying notes back and forth between a prostitute in jail and a pimp in the Red Light. He had read all the notes and knew all about them. He was a fine grained adolescent boy. Has been delivering messages and drugs in the Red Light for 6 months and knows the ropes thoroughly. "A lot of these girls are my regular customers. I carry 'em messages and get 'em drinks, drugs, etc. Also go to the bank with money for 'em. If a fellow treats 'em right, they'll call him by number and give him all their work. I got a box full of photos I took of these girls - some of 'em I took in their room." Works until 11 P.M.

That's why this kid is smiling so big. Another one of my faves.

Tough kids man. And what is with all the red light disctrict mentions?! Is that something the photographer was obsessed with or just how it was back then?

I should be one of these kids for Halloween. Get sepia makeup and everything. Then I'd get, like, possessed by one and it'd turn into some Buffy episode that ends with a guy in glasses and tweed kicking the crap out this other flamboyant guy and returning everything to normal.

- David

Don't walk away from me you bitch!

P.S. This kid looks so much like my brother Thadius it's creeping me out. He made that same face and everything. Different pants though.

*Shwing!*

Same bike, two different pics taken a few seconds apart. One with flash, one without. Very luckily my friend Kurtz forwarded me what turned out to be my first Craig's List purchase. For my first foray into online classifieds it's was very smooth and pleasant. A nice guy named Neil had the wheels all ready and even provided a long bungie chord to help me cart the wheels home. If I ever run into him whilst wheeling aroung town I'll be sure to say hey and try to return it to him.

Been riding these for a couple of weeks now and I'm very happy. I did change out the tires though, as two flats in two days (one for whatever reason, the second because of some sharp straw) was too much. I put my trusty tires with their liners on and haven't had any issues since. The one drawback is the lack of a machined surface on the front wheel, so I've been pretending to be brakeless. On a couple of emergency occasions I have used the brake for a few seconds and it squeels like crazy, plus isn't good for the reflective material. If it becomes too much of a problem I may have to run/rock a different front rim. I do have some in mind already, you betcha.

Now I just need to find a friend with a car who can let me dork out and have them take pictures from a driver's perspective as I go by in front of their headlights.

- David

Soooorrryyy

You'd be surprised what a schedule change, mandatory overtime, and new job responsibilities can do to a blogging schedule.

I'm back to waking up at the ass crack of dawn in order to catch a bus so I can get across the river.  If I had it my way, the ferry would be at my beck and call like a big dog that could take me places, but it isn't, so again I'm dealing with standard public transit.  So far there haven't been any problems, but we'll see what happens once the weather gets nice and the semi-homeless start coming out of hibernation.

In more positive commuting news I've ridden to and from work every day this year besides Saturday and yesterday.  The former was due to not getting up on time and the latter was due to not going to bed on time.  I know it's only the middle of February, but it still feels like an accomplishment.  Plus, for at least December I hadn't pansied out either.  No rides, no busses, just biking.  After driving for two days I have to say that I don't know how people do it.  I seriously don't.

Kasey is getting nice and big.  Any day now I'm going to put her in the oven and have me a feast.  Lil' Jonas is kicking a bunch at night and I finally felt some good ones so I can stop accusing Kasey of a false pregnancy and indigestion.  We registered at Babys R Us (which took sooooo long.  That place is massive.  The gun was fun though.) and there's a baby shower coming up here soon.  It's going to be a co-ed, BYOB affair.

We did find a new place to move and have put down a deposit.  It's in Olde Towne proper, has two bedrooms, a big kitchen, washer/dryer, and lots of windows.  Most important, it's over four hundred dollars a month cheaper than what we're paying now.  So that's good.  I'm excited to do the purge that comes with moving and that feeling of starting over that you get with a new place.

Pets are good, health is good, job is good, weather is good, pretty much everything is good.  Now if I can just get used to going to bed at 8:30 I'll be set.

Regular-type blogging to return soon.  See you in the funny papers.

 - David

K B-Day!

On this day sixteen, er, eighteen, er twenty-four years ago a little blonde girl with tiny teeth was born, who would later lure a funny looking kid in his mid-twenties out of the desert and onto the east coast, where, a few years later, he accidentally, er, surprisingly started a family with her and still loses concentration when she walks around in her underpants, which happens a lot.

Even though as a Buddhist/Taoist I realize everyone's birth has been a necessary part of reality as we know it, there are still a few that seem more important to me than others.  My dad, the Dalai Lama, whoever invented sugar, and Trent Reznor are just a few.  If I really started to fill out the list it would take forever and be super sappy, so I'm not gonna.

But I will say that my gal Kasey is definitely near the top.  She's also one of the few people on a very short list that I know in my heart have saved my life in a very real way, in one form or another.  So I'm very partial to her for that selfish reason.

On a less egocentric note though, Kasey is amazing, and any person who comes in contact with her is truly lucky to be witness to a red-headed miracle of anger, wit, sarcasm, and secret sweetness.  It might take a few encounters but once she let's you into her secret garden it's good times as far as the eye can see.  Unless that song is about something dirty, in which case nobody better be enjoying those tulips but me.

Her recent impregnation by Y.T. has only made her sweeter and surprised a lot of people by revealing a side of her no one expected to see.  Every day she softens a little more as the motherly instincts everyone (including her) was sure she didn't have grow along with her tummy.  It's adorable and terribly endearing.  Watching her feel the baby move is surreal.  I'm actually kind of jealous; I've only recently felt lil' Jeezy Chreezy move last night, and that was just a soft flutter.

Without Kasey I wouldn't:  be having a kid, living in my favorite place ever, be into biking as much, be in (arguably) good shape, know 3/4 of the wonderful music I love, know 1/2 of the awesome movies I love, have as much self-confidence (or conceit, whatever), have met the best cat, met such cool people, or been as happy.

Here's to you, honey.  <3

 - David

Snap!

As a huge fan of White Ninja Comics I don't need any excuses to re-post their comics here. But this latest one is awesome because it features a U-lock, bike rack, and a wheelchair:


Rocking a wheelchair down a hill would be a totally fun end to a date. Good choice White Ninja.

- David

I'm So Jealous of This Kid

http://tinyurl.com/cx9ve2

He's in heaven!  School closures due to snow/cold is something us Nor'-Westerners are familiar with.  They're like little Christmases: Fun fresh snow to play in, and no school.

When I was growing up we'd get snowed into our house every winter, and even the snow plows couldn't make it.  My dad has innumerable stories of having to trudge back to the house after getting stuck, or trying to get some one else unstuck, and then busting out the heavy duty farm equipment the next day to get the vehicles out.  You haven't been stuck until a full sized tractor or backhoe has had to get you out.

When I lived in Phoenix there were obviously no snow days.  Or rain days.  Heat days yes, but you couldn't really call in for something like that.  Now that I'm out on the East Coast it gets cold enough to snow but apparently doesn't very often.  They did recently close down some of the schools due to the *threat* of snow, but it never snowed.  We do get hurricanes here (as evidenced by all of the Hurricane Route signs on the highways) but I haven't seen one of those yet either.  Why can't I be in some minor natural disaster?  No earthquakes, no meteor storms, no locusts, nothing.  Booooring.

The only unexpected days off we get here are Hangover Days, and usually you can see those coming…  But trying not to move all day long isn't as fun as frolicking in the new fallen snow.

 - David