Sibilance

So I was driving along...yes, driving. This was after a delightful girls only ride at Schaeffer. So I was driving along...

fssssssssssttt. I thought it was in the music. But it was so loud even once I turned down the stereo. Could it be some type of factory or construction noise? Here in park central Maryland? Doubtful. FSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTT...

I might have thought it was my tire but did I mention how loud it was? And conssssstttant. And unending. Surely I would have felt it by now if it were my tire. Right?

Wrong. Flattern' a pancake she was. Lost every breath of air in 'er. I'm not even sure why. I was just driving along, didn't hit anything, nothing sharp got to her, couldn't have been a snake bite.

But sure as the sibilance leaking from my trunk, that tire was flatter than Sir Stanley. Went from 50 to 0 in no time flat!

Right there hanging out in the trunk of my car. Sprung an illogical leak right there. A BIG one. Oh well, better the car tail than the bike trail!

E-Art

My little girl grows up.

Park is following in Barley's pawprints. She's not quite ready to create websites with her ass, but looka what she can print! I'm not even sure where it came from, but it sure is pretty.

I think I'll hang it on the fridge... her first piece of art.

Leftist

Who'da thunk it? Hagerstown. Downtown. Bike friendly. Beats Pa Ave.

Check it...lanes right there on the LEFT. No dooring in this part of town.

You Like This.

The Forbidden Places

I am spending the start of Memorial Day weekend with these guys. Hanging at the pump. Release the Hounds!

Power outage. Cripples America. On one of the biggest travel days of the year. Nice. Bike Baby Bike.

Damn The List. The List is why I am here. I cannot go to JC Pennys, Ballys, The Home Depot, Shell, and the jury is still out on BP, but I've been avoiding it. Oh, and there's one lone person also on The List.

I know, Exxon? It is on my ex's List. I don't seek it out, but it's not on The List. That was before I was political. Back when she was a Democrat. Boy, how things have changed.

Take Pennys, The Forbidden Place. I cut my card in pieces when they pulled advertising from Ellen's coming out episode. Oooh, as if I even shopped there anyway. I'm sure that showed them!

It was much funnier when Ellen 'outted' them in one episode referring to them as The Forbidden Place, baby! Funnier still, as someone recently pointed out, that Ellen is HUGE now. THAT showed them!

Change Happens

I cruised up Pennsylvania today Inaugural style. Back and forth, U-turned and circled, snapping pictures.

It was cool. In the shadow of the Capitol where change happens, groundbreaking bike lanes. Right through the heart of the nation. I mean, COOL.

These are the things I salivate over in other states. I take pictures. I yearn for a friendlier cycling community. And now it's here! In Chocolate City.

And it's perfect. Touristic. Sending a message to the world, in the footprint of the Capitol. Perfect. I dream of a Denverian 16th Street right here on Pa Ave! Transit and peds NO CARS.

By my second pass I change my mind. It's really not that great. It doesn't really go anywhere and you get stuck in the middle. Ain't that the story of my life. And god knows I hate being stuck in the middle.

Here's what I saw. It encouraged pedestrians to Jay walk EVERYWHERE. They just hangin' out in the middle walking all up in my path. Taxis, same thing. U turning through the uncrowded center totally up in my path. It's slightly confusing. Traffic jams and left turns...not good.

The secret is 7th. Touch of Chinese Heaven. After I maneuvered the intersection of 7th and H like a drunken polo match I escaped into a delightful portal. It spit me out south of the intersection CAR FREE!

Yep, as the pedestrians run circles around the cars up there I have time to make my escape. All the way down 7th just me and my bicycle. No noise. No car exhaust. No horns. No near misses.

Give them back Pennsylvania. Can I keep 7th?

For Eve.r

Ever heard the flight of a bird tucked away in a quiet cove of a noisy city?

Ever felt the wind tickle your ears like the waves of the ocean drowning out the cacophony of chaotic downtown traffic?

Ever sat on the outskirts of an evening and watched a day wind down with your eyes wide shut?

Ever savored the end of a broadcast day under the explosion of nature's hi-def pixels of the southwestern sky?

Ever let the aromas of distant countries converge in one diverse neighborhood on one encompassing ride?

Have you Ever felt the sun set?

They're Lost is Their Loss

Slackers (n.) individuals who take the time to match their socks to their slacks. Hell, I don't even have time to match them to each other! Busy, busy, busy.

When they are loud and obnoxious like bike socks I don't see the point really. Since I never put clothes away (who has time for that?!) I can never find a matching pair anyway.

I betcha those Slackers even complain about not having any time. Meanwhile I'm off shoving a 10 mile bike ride into a 45 minute lunch break all the while trying to avoid becoming some taxi's latest hood ornament, which could make me late for work.

Yesterday I started as a Slacker. It's true. Real nice: pants, jacket, real shoes. Two jobs later I went to lunch and came back mismatched (again). Who has time to dress back up for two hours?

By 22:30 it was a skull cap, nice shirt and jacket, matching pedal pushers, loud socks, and Teva water shoes. Me. It was me, take it or leave me.

Cinderella was no fairy tale. By midnight, I had, indeed, turned into a punk.

Bucket List

I found a cat in my backyard this morning. It's not unusual, hood's filled wit 'em. But earlier it sounded like it was raining at least cats if not cats AND dogs.

We noticed each other from afar. I was intrigued, it was unphased. I mean I lost Parker just last week after all. I was going through cats quicker than I could shower.

Relax, I found her, eventually. And don't act like it's never happened to you! Every cat, every closet. I chased to and fro playing Marco Polo with my cat.

MEOW?

POLO!

No, I didn't check the roof. Or the front door initially. She was trapped betwixt the front door and the screen. REALLY Mewdini?

Really, Silly Sally!

At it again. The cat in the back yard....uhuh yeah, it's like THAT!

P A R K E R!

GET IN THIS HOUSE!

Daily Grind

It's bad when morning coffee is the highlight of your day and you don't want to get up for it. But I guess that's the point of morning coffee...to jump start the day.

Today I have to be at both jobs in one hour. As in, 60 minutes from now I need to be in DC and VA at the same time. Last night during 60 Minutes I wanted to be nowhere near either one.

Yes, indeedy this is about the daily grind...and you know the pun was intended!

It started last night. Clearly it could have been avoided, wasn't necessary, in hindsight not at all worth it...but I take fool responsibility. To spare you the boring details, I lost a spot.

Forgive me Mr. Lopshire: This is truly not new. Still frames, black, color bars too. Oh, they might put me in the zoo as all viewers see what I cannot do.

Prime time. I lost it during Prime Time. Lost is such strong verbiage. I merely misplaced it. Perhaps present it to the client that way...misplaced. Yes, I found it; No, no one else saw it. Fair enough.

In fact, for 30 painfully silent BLACK seconds, my heart raced, I panicked, I sat, I relaxed, I waited, I pretended the ear piercing alarm was the latest background of the newest, hottest rap tune.

I mean it's TV people! Not brain surgery. Yes, I failed at my job, but we all have our days. It's not like I'm an overworked, underslept doctor who neglected to mention a pesky side effect that may or may not cause a minor discomfort like, oh, I don't know...DEATH!

I just monitor and maintain waves and pixels and dbs and such. Truly, I just fill otherwise meaningful thoughtful seconds with mindless, thoughtless drivel. Your welcome.

Edycation

Now what I want to talk about is the woman standing on Irving in a hospital gown, leaning on her IV pole, with a cigar teetering from her parched lip; however, I just very now promised a picture with every entry. Not 5 minutes ago. And me with my camera tucked away from the threatening storm.

The storm that never was. Not here, not now. But when Edy was pushing me out the room...that was a coat of another color. You know when it was pouring and she was giving me the scrunched nose, inward Edy eye...go on and beat the storm!

I stood my dry ground, and waited her out. And after coming up empty on the rainbow possibilities and learning about sun orientation, direction, and the Earth's tilt on its axis, I learned my head is not a sponge. And we'd be better served to find our way via satellite dishes on roofs than the fickle position of the sun...but I digress.

And so, encased in my trusty gortex of an orange color, carrying the weight of DC humidity upon my back, I swam my bike upstreet...oh, no it wasn't raining, but my handlebar might actually be a sponge. And I was thinking about licking it. Dreaming of a lollipop sponge. Mmmm, a sponge on a stick.

As I dropped into the park (of course, the wooded park) I saw a flash of light. I might have considered it my life flashing before my eyes, but Edy would have kilt me! As it were, it was closely followed by the rumbling of Mom Nature...or maybe Edy channeling a voice, echoing that Edy eye with an audible I told youyouyou!

Come to think of it maybe it wasn't Mom Nature at all. Maybe it really was the sound of a really hungry stomach. One that hasn't eaten in a month of Sundays. One in dire need of a sandwich, an oreo, a lozenge for Christ SAKE!

Sponge on a stick?

Crosswalks Tosswalks

There's no turns on H and one willy nilly intersection!

ycycle likes!

Holy Headwind Bikeman

I'm pretty sure we're not in Kansas anymore, but it sure felt like it!

Nope, definitely Pennsylvania. Gotta love Pennsylvania!

And this time it kinda felt like work!

Tole Ya

See, still playin'

Lunch Brake

Yes, I work hard, but I play hard too!

Armored Bike

A not so funny thing happened on the way to the bank.

I had a bagful of cash and I wasn't thrilled about it. Crooks, it was an OTO affair.

It wasn't so much the highway robbery, but rather, what if I get in an accident? I need an armored bike, I thought. I thought it again a mile down the road.

Scream Line

She did one of these: just kept walking. I did one of these: hold the door, contorting myself so the smallest straggler could play london bridge.

The tiny basketball team could use a little help on its zone defense. The obvious center, nickname of Mom (no, I don't think it was tattooed on her arm), out in front with a little bit of surprising speed. One underfoot, two more hugging the sideline, one forgotten back court. And me.

Mom, as I mentioned, in front, checking off the daily errand list. Mostly unaware of the positioning of her team. Completely unaware of the newly added sixth man. My height may have been a clue but I hung to the center like glue, successfully infiltrating the crew.

Onward went Mom through the parking lot, the five of us in tow. She never batted an eye, never bowed a shoulder, never dropped a syllable:

"So who remembers what we're doing next? Anyone know where we're going now?"

Cute. Making errands fun. Like game. Count me in:

"ICE CREAM! WE'RE GOING FOR ICE CREAM!" Ooh, that was me, and that was out loud. My cover is blown.

But Mom never missed a beat, Mom's got game! "Are you paying?"

"Sure--let's do it!"

Beyond Fare

This, is a taxi. Note the driver, backseat, light on top. A desirous passenger stands curbside, arm outstretched, often with a finger to the sky. As if to say, Hey Big Guy, thanks for the ride!

That's exactly what I saw just the other night on my way home. Dude on the sidewalk leaving Metro. Arm stretched across Georgia waving at the car on the other side of the red light.

Indeed, driver, backseat, light on top. Not, however, a taxi. Instead, in fact, advertising his company: Domino's.

OH! Like Guinness...BRILLIANT! Just a few miles can run you ten bucks in a cab. You just get a ride and you still have to hail it.

Instead, find yourself a pizza joint. Call ahead, order a pie. Then bum a ride to your house with the delivery guy. Hey, it's on your way!

A discounted fare with a cure for the munchies. Brilliant!

Choose Your Own Discrepancy

Depending on who you are, my discrepancy reports were quite entertaining. Depending on who you are.

At 13:59 lottery did not come down.
If you are in management Turn to Page 5.
If you have a sense of humor Just Continue Reading.

As I was saying, at 13:59 R36 stuck out it's tongue, which looks surprisingly like the blue screen of death.

Being a mere visitor to MC I can never be sure when something has changed...perhaps this is normal? FTP, DGrabber, Rosetta's Stone? I have no idea how spots get into the system anymore.

My bosses think this is WCIA. Go on and sleep with eyes wide shut. No one will ever have to kill us, no one ever tells us anything! Is this where I say, thank you?

After all I am just a trained Monkey. They took the humans out of the mix. Monkey push button. Monkey no think. I consult the binders, the WIKI, the weekend procedures. Monkey start phone chain. No answer, voice mail, human with no answer. It's the same thing every week. I just love consistency.

Getting an answer on the weekend is like hitting the lottery. One in a million. Call JB. That's my answer? And that number is where? Shall I just shout out JB like Bingo? "If you don't get her (Really?) just fill it with a minute Verizon."

Once upon a time the trained Monkey had information at her opposable thumbs. Now it's a dance with the one armed bandit. Without that master list, I'll just go on and watch each and every spot until I find that one you speak of. It's okay, I'm not doing anything else. I should get to about 312-38 by the time this needs to air.

And there I stood with a near blank piece of paper in my hands, just a simple JB written upon it. And an unknown stranger milling about next door. I don't have time for this. I have to bellow JB in hopes of winning Bingo.

She comes in and introduces herself, which I immediately forget. Sales, I heard sales. Ah...can you help me? Like a gift from St. Clare. Somewhere along the way the Monkey's neurons fired and sparked understanding. You are JB!

Bingo! Time to play the numbers. I'll just never know if I actually won.

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