in seattle on saturday nite, i was checking out the new ferris wheel from the overlook on union and first listening to this song on my ipod.
the man smoking a cigarette next to me tapped me and pointed down to the burnt out neon light advertising the post alley.
i should change those lightbulbs well, i’m not the guy to talk to about that, but it looks like it needs to be done
or i could just paint? that would work…
you live here? i did for a year and a half, but moved east.
yakima? no, spokane.
i love here. here like seattle or what?
here like america. got here 3 and half weeks ago. oh shit. where from?
kyrgyzstan. how did you get here?
shipping boat. kazakhstan, caspian sea, black sea, mediterranean sea, atlantic ocean, pacific ocean, victoria canada, walk to seattle. 3 and half months. holy shit. quite the trip. how do you like this piss rain weather?
weather beautiful. in kyrgyzstan, yak freeze in fields. no way.
many men wearing many coats can not move frozen yak. how’s the summertime?
summertime too hot for yurt. what do you do for work?
can’t go to shelter, no papers. mexican man at home depot not letting me work. got MRCA on my leg sleeping under freeway. no medicine? i lose my leg. shit. what is your name?
ahmed. from kyrgyzstan.
i grabbed a five from my wallet and handed it to ahmed. best of luck, ahmed. take care.
thank you. last thing i want is to be man with no papers in america and ask everyone for money. all i want is to live and die in america. anywhere. but men with MRCA don’t shake hands.
the armstrong lie is really bringing dontbeprey into the memeblogosphere comment-wise.
373 comments in 30 hours. i think people involved in blogging and bicycling can overlook a lot lance. lying, cheating, weaseling, cutting down friends? goes with the territory. putting me in a position to delete hundreds of ad comments a day? for the north face? step too far, bro.
ps. for those who haven’t seen the trailer yet, here it is:
pps. most of the spam comments are for my pseudo-obituary of neil armstrong. just thankful i haven’t written anything about stretch armstrong yet.
sunday evening i was riding downtown to grab a drink. i saw two women standing on a street corner i was planning on turning right around. i assumed they were waiting to cross the other direction, but right as i began my turn, they stepped out into the street.
they turned to look at me
i locked my rear wheel
they deer-in-the-headlights-ed me
i slammed on my front brake
i slowed down enough to go slowly behind them.
“i’m so sorry” i said
“no we’re sorry, ride safe!”
no single digits in the air.
no horns disrupting the beautiful fall sunset.
because out of the three of us, exactly zero of us
had a phone to our ear
had earbuds in
were in a three ton cage.
this article has been making the bicycle blog rounds this week.
The burden of mortality is always on the person riding a bike, yet the burden of responsibility for using a car to kill or maim a person virtually never falls on the driver. If that pisses you off, it’s time to start acting like it. We’ve come to a point where all the soft-ball pitching of our needs has failed to deliver streets that are safer. Asking for permission to ride without fear doesn’t work – motorists don’t care, or they can’t hear you. It’s time to start adopting principles of two-wheeled liberation.
i’ve always felt this way. i begrudgingly support bicycle lane infrastructure, but generally agree much more so with this prefigurative political leaning of bicycle use. why?
because i’ve been hit by four cars while abiding every rule i’m supposed to.
because zero of those vehicles have stopped afterwards.
because this is the attitude of many people i have the privilege to “share” the road with.
and i still carry that burden of mortality. and so do those two women on the street corner. and so does everyone (because at some point you do have to walk from your car to somewhere).