geek snobbery

saw this bloke sitting near a seaside wall with this contraption on our last visit down to sf. i watched him pull all the bits out of his beater chevy astro van that had been given a rattle-can black paint job. inside it looked like a film camera grip's car with all kinds of shelves and cubbies to store things. he then proceeded to set up his odd rig when this shot was taken. i have to admit i was a bit curious as to how it all was going to work.
and as i stood there quietly watching him work, he stops what he's doing, turns to me and says "this takes a lot of concentration and i really don't want anybody staring at me while i work. so can you please leave?" now i'm generally obliging but for some reason this really ticked me off. i thought to myself "are you kidding me? you drive up in your burning man van and start pulling out all kinds of equipment to set up your sun powered whatsit in the middle of one of the most lively places in san francisco like some street performer, and then you've got the nerve to ask me to LEAVE?!"
i had to really contain myself for all the vitriol that was building up inside. i mean it's not like he was in his backyard and i lived next door to young mr. edison and popped my head over for a peek before getting shooed off. he was outdoors in a public space! but i smiled and slowly turned away begrudgingly as if i had been kicked out of the public park by another citizen, which in a sense i had. ah well, i could have stayed and just said "no, i don't think so. i was here first. but i didn't want to be that guy. so if you ever see this delicate genius, be forewarned.

fly the messenger
parks here his life is a smoke
drags down time a blur

sweet deal

my wife scored this at the target today for less than 3 bucks! i miss my cruiser.

ride home

this is what the beginning of my ride home from work looks like. when i mount the bike, i kick off from a standstill and coast as far as i can. some future time when i have more memory, i'll try and post the entire journey. but for now, come take a little ride...

the space between us
this makes all the difference
in seeing ourselves

pioneer boots

my 4th grade teacher was a man named mr. sobaje. (pronounced so-bah-jee) he was a wonderful teacher who made every effort to make all of us kids feel important and accepted. i remember his hands were always covered with chalk dust as he rarely used an eraser. he wore a casual suit each day with suede hush-puppies. we often sang in his class as he strummed the auto-harp, and he loved to tell us stories.
one i remember particularly well was about a poor boy in a turn of the century schoolhouse who after showing up barefoot was told he could not attend again without shoes. because he was so poor, his family could not afford to buy him a new pair of shoes, and as he was the only boy in a family of girls, he was forced to wear an old pair of ladies style lace up boots to school the following day despite his protests. though he tearfully begged his parents to let him stay at home rather than face the humiliation of his peers, they would not relent, believing his education to be more important than ridicule. the following day as he walked to the one room schoolhouse with his sisters, kicking the dirt as he went to hide his shame, he arrived and quickly took his place at his desk sliding his feet as far back under his seat as he could and waited in hopes no one would notice his lady style shoes.
as the other students filled their seats and the teacher arrived, he began to walk around the classroom, as was his custom while he taught. as he passed the poor boy he noticed the shoes even as the boy tried ever harder to slide them under his seat. the teacher continued to walk around the classroom, and then stopped and looked directly at the boy, and then at his shoes, and then said "is that what i think it is? are those...? yes, look everybody. look at johnny's shoes." the boy's heart raced as he braced himself for the shame. "those are real pioneer boots." the teacher continued, "why i haven't seen a pair of those in quite some time. those are the kind of boots real pioneers used to wear as they forged their way westward. yes sir, real pioneer boots."
at these remarks all of the children in the classroom suddenly became very curious and interested in little johnny's shoes and at recess they all begged to take turns trying them on.
of course the moral of the story here is twofold. the first, make every effort to reduce ridicule and humiliation for others, and the second, we can always see something from a new perspective. that's a long and roundabout way of me getting to this. while riding my wife's step-through bike the other day a guy called out to me. i stopped and headed back to his garage. "do you know what that is?" he asked. "do you know what you've got there?" "uh...?" i slowly replied. "you probably thought that was a girl's bike, didn't you?" he said. "yes?" "that's a mixte. (mix-tee) it's a french design. they're rare" he went on to tell me. and as he opened up his encyclopedic knowledge on the merits of the mixte, even showing me his own example amongst a half dozen or more vintage bicycles, i just stood there smiling, not sure if the whole thing was a put on or not.
later at home i did some research on the mixte and discovered everything the old guy had told me was true. there are whole legions of folks dedicated to finding, restoring and riding these odd little hybrids. if you don't believe me, check 'em out here. and as i ride around town now, i must say i don't feel quite as self-conscious wearing my very own pair of "pioneer boots".

abandoned

digable planets once said "new york is a museum with its posters and graffiti". if that is true then certainly abandoned bicycles would have to count as part of the museum's sculpture. and in fact if you take a closer look at most big cities you will find similar exhibitions. but as with most other things, new york must certainly do it in volume.
this is why i love abandoned bicycles of new york, a part of j schumacher's very enjoyable blog. if you have ever spent any time in the city, no doubt you've seen one of these. it's difficult i think to figure out how these came to be here. i suppose one could spend many hours spinning an imagined tale for each one. perhaps some are left temporarily at first. the well meaning bicyclist secures his mount to a parking meter or sign post overnight, visiting the neighborhood of a friend, only to come out the following morning and see the transport mutilated or vandalized in such a fashion as to be now unrideable. shocked and distressed, our hero, without resource or assistance leaves his faithful companion to now die a slow death on public display.
that is a grim tale and i know i have seen evidence that would support such a tale. and in fact as time goes by many of these become a whipping post for passers by. a sort of a psychic post war mussolini. and still others remain intact and even preserved, as if the rider was going off on another kind of journey, but hoped to return one day and free his steed from its suspended state, give it new life and ride the city streets once again!

ride

i was looking for something related to my post from yesterday and came across my new favorite site. it is called "ride the machine" and it is a tribute to all things on two and three wheels, a single wheel or even fantastic otherworldly machines and the relationship of riding them.
i am very impressed at this visual collection which is gathered from all manner of places. to me it also represents a kind of ongoing extension of the "art of the motorcycle" exhibit that first showed at the guggenheim some years ago and then ended up in las vegas. we are all or have been riders at different times in our lives and it is great fun to go through this collection and see all of these examples of the "riding" machine and their influence on our dreams.

the toc

i went downtown sunday to catch the finish of this year's tour of california - stage 1 which ended at the capitol mall. this year the race started in beautiful nevada city along highway 49. this stage brought riders down past grass valley and auburn and then across to folsom. they then dropped down into sacramento and ended up on L street seen above for the finish. of course mark cavendish was the hero of the day taking the stage and the podium.
i didn't see any of yesterday's tv coverage, but the finish was pretty well packed out and it was great to see a growing support for this race. hopefully we can keep the tour after next year's sponsor amgen drops out. here in california we certainly have all of the ingredients to rival the grand tour races - beautiful scenery and wonderful roads, and climbs and vista that rival the best in italy and france. and of course a great bicycle culture. today the tour leaves san francisco's ocean beach headed for santa cruz. it should be another glorious day in california.

reach higher to grasp
my definition of art
then hang on tightly

racer and the breeze

once upon a time some fifteen years ago, i was wandering through my favorite thrift store. as i walked to the back of the store, there hanging on a wall was a work of art. a blue 1960's schwinn cruiser - all original. it was beautiful. the kind of bike that fires the imagination.
i carefully pulled it off the wall and set it down on its tires, now exhausted. i inspected the lines. it was low and sleek with these wonderful swept back moustache handlebars. and when i took hold of them i could feel myself at the top of an enormous hill, looking down as the wind blew my hair and grinning like a child who is free.
she was called the racer and i longed to make her go...

as fate would have it, my future wife had had a similar experience and found a ladies bike - the same color and year. hers was called the breeze...

they became our code names for each other - racer and the breeze. in our early days of marriage we drew up plans together of how we would fix these two up. i'd outfit a basket to the front of hers and buy fresh flowers to put in on our morning weekend rides to the cafe. there we could sit and drink coffees together and read at a table outdoors while our steeds racer and the breeze waited patiently to take us to unknown destinations.
sadly though we never seemed to have the funds to make our two wheeled dream go. and so racer and the breeze sat. first under a tarp outside our cottage. then they followed us from garage to garage always sitting in a corner together waiting.
years passed. we had kids. and finally we hauled them out into the daylight for a good look and just realized they were probably going to be waiting a long time. and in a burst of spring cleaning we decided it was finally time for somebody else to have a crack at them. and so with a little sadness, a craigslist post was made and a very nice gentleman and his wife came by to pick them up. and as i watched racer and the breeze roll away on the back of that bike rack i watched that little dream go too. (for now)

ride your bicycle

the days have been a lot warmer around here this week and the break in winter storms makes it feel like an early spring. so yesterday i hauled all of the bikes out of the garage and began tuning them up. wrenches and screwdrivers, oil and grease. i'm no great mechanic, but i really enjoy doing this kind of work. i fired up the compressor to add air to the deflated tires and raised seats to accommodate growing legs. i added a water bottle holder to my wife's bike and straightened her handlebars. my kids even got out their paint brushes and stickers to further add to our tune up session and give their rides some added flair.
there is something simple and very satisfying in keeping your own bicycle running well. as a kid i depended on my schwinn daily to help me complete my paper route. when i had a blowout i'd just add another patch until the tubes finally split from wear. (stretch that paper route money)
my own bike still needs a little attention though and so later i went out for a ride on barbara's step through and got some chuckles from the kids sitting outside the 7-11. i just smiled and coasted on by.