shoulderless roads are the devil's work

Or is that MDC?

So yeah, Critical Mass (I know that was four days ago, sue me) was quite an event this month. We had the media, we had mourning, we had asshole cops on motorcycles, we had fun, and we had a ten foot by ten foot trailer with a four person rock band on it being pulled by two extremely in-shape cyclists on a tandem. We even injured one of our own (she got squeezed between a parked car and the trailer) and had her sent off the the hospital. Pictures will be forthcoming (though getting a good picture of a ten by ten trailer with a rock band and a tandem is surprisingly difficult). Oddly, there are no articles in any of the newspapers which sent reporters/photographers. Weird.

The weekend was very quiet. (Well, except for the SCUL ride, which was gravity filled, with a gummy penis filled party at the end.) I followed Mr. MP7 around and had some Indian food and visited with the scruffiest looking sheep I've ever seen (maybe it was because they lived in Waltham...). My ankle, which I twisted on a malfunctioning sidewalk a few weeks ago, seems to have some sort of serious problem. My best guess is a chipped bone which has set crooked. It doesn't really hurt, but looks really wrong and feels icky. I had to spend half an hour on the phone to get an appointment, but was impressed that my little subsidized community health center has a podiatry department.

As if that wasn't enough, the hole where one of my teeth use to be is hurting. Did I mention that I hate my body? When are those cybergenic replacement bodies going to be ready?

Don't you hate it when your whole outlook on life is tied directly to one person's relationship with you? I do.

Someone told me the other day that I was beautiful and it made me cry.

RIP Dana Laird

Tonight's Critical Mass ride will be a memorial ride in Dana Laird's name. As I mentioned before, she was the woman who was killed when a careless SUV driver opened his door into her and pushed her under the wheel of a passing bus on Mass Ave in Cambridge, MA. This CM ride should be quite an event. The media has been invited, there will be mourners in black, the couch will have a New Orleans style funeral jazz band, and who knows what else will show up. I, myself, am properly dressed for mourning - with a veil and everything - and I have "don't get doored"/"don't door someone" flyers to hand out with info on the back about Ms. Laird's tragedy.

thunderbumpers

Yay! I just made it home before the downpour started. I had a nice ride out to Bedford, just 'cause I felt like it and I was already near the bike path in Arlington. I took a course in grantwriting this morning at some employment and training place. it was really very well done, and I learned a bunch of stuff. Yay for free social programs!

On my way home from my ride, I had to yell at some asshole who nearly hit me and told me to get off the f'n road. I asked him why, but to no avail. (He probably doesn't test well, I should have known.) Then he called me a "stupid cunt" at which point I reminded him that it was he, not me, who was spending a good $5000 a year to drive his vehicle, and that my vehicle was clearly much cooler than his big ass Chevy. After I left the jerk (to waste some more of his cold hard cash at a gas station), it occured to me that I should try to use the patriotic thing next time another oblivious individual pulls something dimwitted like that. Maybe something along the lines of this:

Dimwit: Get outta the road!

Me: Ahhhh, I see. You're one of those un-patriotic-Americans. Well, I'm sorry you don't like this country, maybe you should leave.

Dimwit (with stunned look on his face): ???

Confusion is always a good tactic, I say.

I'll leave you today with a not so terrible picture of me, along with Tim and Tom, from last week's bike trip to Maine. Look at how hip I am!

tailgunner

I really wasn't going to go on the SCUL bike ride last night, but I wanted to see the video from last week, so I figured that I'd just say hi, watch the video, and then go home and sleep. But I ended up discovering a perfect ship for me! So not only did I ride, but I really enjoyed it, and even did the important job of tailgunning (sweep). Sadly, my walkie talkie was being flakey, so I didn't get to be all cool with the radio. But now I really want to get a pair of the things. I'm such a geek. My MP7 buddy says he'll pick some up for me at Costco, cause they're really cheap there.

Speaking of geeks. I was wearing my "geek" (on the front) "/geek" (on the back) shirt up in Maine at the bike rally, and some elderly gentleman asked me what a geek was. I actually had a hard time explaining it!

Finally, I've been noticing several recent appearences of Jethro Tull. Is it a comeback? I hope not. Not because I don't like the band - cause I love 'em - but because revivals almost always suck. And that would just be depressing to have one of my escapism bands from my childhood be turned into some lame pop band for the kiddies. (For heaven's sake kids, leave the classics to us old folks!)

banana powered vehicle

I managed to pull myself out of my moping this afternoon and get myself, my bike, and my hastily assembled banana costume down to the Art Beat parade in Davis Square. It rained a bit the whole time, but there was a great turnout, and I had fun. The theme this year was "food for thought". My neighbors Joel and Lynn had a canoe and the life cycle of compost (complete with bin, real compost, and even a tomato plant), respectively, being towed behind their bikes. Yay!

fermented cat?

Alcohol. Throughout my life I've always had a very suspicious feeling about alcohol. Its just never seemed like a good thing. Having had a pretty messed up childhood due to a mom and stepfather who treated alcolol as self medication for whatever ailed them certainly created a solid base of dislike for the drug. But above that experience, I think that I have too much appreciation for my mind to want to subject it to a substance that turns the brain all sloshy.

I do understand the benefits of one of the side effects of alcohol - relaxation - but I'm just not sure that its worth the effort. The other effects of the drug seem to be overwhelingly negative. Why would I want to make myself lose motor control, be more vulnerable to suggestion, and generally function less than optimally, all added to the possibility of getting a crippling addiction? Sure, sounds great, sign me up!

So, when I have friends who are particularly fond of the stuff, I find myself at a loss. I want to trust that people know their limits and that they can take care of themselves, but I'm afraid that they're screwing themselves up. And lately, I've been around a whole lot of friends who have a bit of a drinking hobby. Hmmmmm.

fame

I came into work today and was told that I was now famous. Apparently, after years of trying, I managed to get a letter to the editor published in the Boston Globe. Sadly, and somewhat inexplicably, they didn't see fit to put my letter online. So, no link for you. The letter was about a proposed piece of state legislation that the Segway company is dragging around the country, in a bizarre attempt to ban the vehicle from roads, while making it legal to ride the thing around on the sidewalk.

Also this morning I had my first meeting with the VIPs about the police bicycle edication program that I've been working on. It went incredibly well, and the participants were very supportive and excited to be getting closer to having a real curriculum (a DOT person, someone from the Governor's Highway Safety Bureau, a couple of transportation planners, and a bunch of cops).

Its continually shocking to me to be working with a non-profit, environmentally friendly, somewhat radical cause and have the general public and even politicians honestly be interested, positive, and gasp! helpful.

What's next? Linux going mainstream?

back in civilization

Well, whether the city folks are any more civilized than the country folk is debatable, but there are certainly more people here in the city.

Maine was lovely. The weather was gorgeous, the company was great, and the biking was very nice. I didn't do as many rides as I would have likes, as logistics got in the way a few times, but I did have a lot of fun. I got a chance to kayak down the Androscoggin River, which was fantastic, but shockingly shallow in many parts. I got to go on a stargazing ride to the top of one of the local mini-mountains (the area I was in was right next to the Appalacians). And I twice visited a lovely waterfall/tidal pool area called Screw Auger Falls (I just like saying the name...). I actually drove the car more than I rode, at least milage-wise, which made my guilt muscle twinge, but I figured that it was only a moderate slip in the grand scheme of my transportation policy. (I also made a point of letting the Maine Bike Coalition folks know that they should do their best in the future to locate the bike rally near public trasportation.)

Now that I'm back, I'm horribly busy and a bit on the grumpy side (mostly caused by a lack of attention by certain males of the species). But I'll probably be too busy to notice my grumpiness in a few hours, when I get cracking on activism stuff. Actually, I already wrote a letter to the editor of the Boston Globe about some horrible proposed legislation forcing a specific kind of vehicle (the Segway) off of public roads and onto the sidewalks, setting up a terribly discriminatory and dangerous precedent for vehicular law.

Oh, and I thought of another nickname for the new roommie - one that I think he likes better than Fairy Godfather - the "MP7". It's a reference to some insanely deadly weapon given to "peacekeeping" forces in the military that is featured as a centerfold in this month's Wired magazine. The guy is obsessed with weapons, but is essentially a very nonviolent man. Ironic, to say the least. Kinda like me, with my love for technology being completely out of line with my desire for life of Thoreau-like simplicity. What can I say, irony is my pal.

watch out for those spider webs in the morning

The Fairy Godfather woke me up early this morning and made me drag my sleepy ass into the kitchen, because he wanted to show me a spider web that connected one side of the room to the opposite side of the room via a chair in the middle. The web stretched a good 10 feet at least. The tiny little thing must have been damn busy while we were sleeping. And we had to go and have breakfast and destroy it's hard work.

It's off to Maine for the Maine Bike Rally. Sadly, we won't be camping (I love camping and never get to do it), but it should be lots of fun anyway. I'm sure I'll be unbelieveably exhausted by Sunday. And next weekend is the Art Beat festival. Wheee!

lane striping

Tonight I happened to sneak my way into the Cambridge Bicycle Committee's monthly meeting (ok, it wasn't the slightest bit sneaky, but it sounded better than saying I walked right in, didn't it?). I thought it might be interesting to hear what they had to say about the death of the cyclist who was riding perfectly "correctly" in their badly designed bike lane. I don't have any particular animosity for the people who recommended the dangerous lanes, but I am bewildered at their insistance that having a bike lane is always better than not, even if it is clearly causing danger.

Anyway, I got to make a suggestion for a different approach to bike facility design, one that I came up with for Somerville. It was not only well recieved, but someone else had independently come upon the idea as well. We're very likely to try my idea on a road or two in Somerville, and now maybe Cambridge will try it out too. It could mean a transportation revolution! Or not. If this design ever gets applied to an actual roadway I'll show ya all pictures!

question

What is the male version of "nymphet"?

full

I gotta say, I'm pretty happy with things these days. I've got a fantastic job/volunteer thing going at MassBike and other places, have great roommates, and I'm having lots of fun. The school-based bicycle safety program that I've been working on is promising to be amazing. I'm having an absolute ball with my new Fairy Godfather (I'm still working on a nickname for him, as he isn't entirely thrilled with that one, but I kinda like it). And riding with SCUL and Critical Mass is keeping me heathy and weird. Now all I need is a nice guy, who is willing to put up with the likes of me, to flesh out my life (pun intended!).

Last weekend's SCUL ride was one of the best ever. We rode out to a pond in the Fells (somewhere near Medford, MA, I think) and went skinny dipping. I've never been really thrilled about getting naked in front of anyone (being fat in this "thin is in" society does that to people, especially women), but I just went for it and had a blast. The water was absolutely perfect, and I rode the very comfy, good looking chopper known as "Greed".

On a down note, a local woman, who was riding in the bike lane on Mass Ave in Cambridge, was killed when a thoughtless SUV driver hit her with his door causing her to fall under a bus that was passing by insanely closely. Several factors contributed to the tragedy, including an ignorant and careless automobile driver who illegally opened his door without checking for traffic, a really poorly designed roadway which squeezes way too many "lanes" of traffic into a very small space, and a bicyclist who didn't know enough road safety to avoid the dangerous bike lane and it's accompanying "door zone". (See a picture of the crime scene here.) I visited the roadside memorial that sprung up, and took a moment to mourn the woman's needless passing. I also stuck a "share the road with bicyclists" pamphlet to the tree, in case it might be able raise a tiny bit of awareness.

I am the Steve Buscemi character

We rented Ghost World (the film, not the comic book) since I was babbling on about it anyway. I'm Seymore, not Enid, just to clarify.

On the fourth, I had, for the first time ever, been invited to three different events. I attended none (missing the giant penis piniata that was alledgedly painted with the stars and stripes of old glory), but had a lot of fun anyway. I'm not sure if I'm ever going to catch up on my complete lack of sleep this past week.

In another few days a bunch of MassBike folks, including myself, will be heading off to Maine for their bike extravaganza. In preparation, I picked up some nearly slick tires which should help me zoom along a bit faster on the long rides, I also got some sports food goo to power me up on said rides, I lost around 8 pounds, and finally I managed to lightly twist my ankle while walking all around Somerville and Cambridge yesterday doing errands with the new roommie. I'm not sure if I'm going to want to ride in SCUL tonight on this ankle, especially since there's a possibiliy that we're going to be riding out to Walden Pond.

The new roommie (I know, he needs a name, but I'd like to come up with some sort of nickname for him rather than using his real name, for a few reasons. I'm thinking about "Fairy Godfather"...) likes to do housework. He bought two sixpacks of Coke and poured them into the tub, saying that it was the most corrosive thing you can get in the supermarket. It didn't really do all that much, but it certainly didn't take much effort, either. If he'd let it soak for a couple of days, it might have really made a difference. Or not. Right now, the guy is doing my dishes. Sometimes I feel like I should be paying him for services rendered...

celluloid laundrybasket

Why am I up and writing here at 4 in the morning? Because my life has very recently become some sort of independent movie. This movie includes all the requisite oddball characters who seem to float in and out of the plot, having philosophical conversations and getting involved in really non-traditional relationships with oneanother. This particular film that is my life has elements of a Richard Linklater piece ("See that tree? See those leaves shining in the light? That's why you're alive." he said when I told him that I didn't have the ego to believe that I needed to be alive.) My movie also has some bits straight out of Daniel Clowes' Chost World ("I'm not sure if I should show you my comics or not." I said, completely unaware of how surreal it was in the context of lounging on a bed with someone who you probably shouldn't be lounging on a bed with). He's only been here for four days and I've already lost nearly five pounds. It's the first time in a long time that I've had someone who I feel completely comfortable discussing philosophy with. As a first impression, I've decided that he's a fairy godmother and the devil's advocate all rolled into one (maybe that's why he's so large...).

I think I said something about this new roommate being someone who's going to be very interesting to live with. His response was "You don't know the half of it." And I'm absolutely positive that he's right.