pedestrian saga

Early this morning I traveled all the way to Portland and wandered the cozy labyrinth of Powell’s City of Books. Rounding the end of an aisle I ran into Neil Gaiman who engaged me in conversation most warmly and graciously. I expressed my appreciation of Coraline and he pitched his forthcoming sequel, Coraline Goes to–. So, she would have a series of her own and find her place among adventuring girls like Alice and Olivia and Madeleine and Nancy Drew, I thought. And I told him that Coraline would surely be my favorite such character.

I felt somehow compelled to mention my own adventures in Italian Studies at UC Berkeley, and he was terribly impressed by this. Internal barometer sensed that familiar storm of self-denigration brewing in the mind of my dream self. She was on the verge of mumbling some lame description of perceived grad school failures, when that knot of tension simply unraveled and fell away. I guess I figured if Neil Gaiman is digging it, I oughta accept the compliment and bask in its light a while.

This morning, dear little Fred Milton completely disarmed the rabid dog in me with his moving poetry. Now, I know I shouldn’t make unfair comparisons, but Gordon has never written poems about me (nor has he shown any mutual interest in Kurt Vonnegut, for that matter!) If only he could channel all that spasmodicity into a loving tribute to his lady. Or something. Oh, well. I can dream.

Pardon me while I loot Bob’s bloggable treasure lifted from the depths of craigslist. Hey, you snooze you lose, as my folks might say.

This listing* reveals perhaps the most hardcore attempt by a pair of voting citizens to re-defeat Bush that I’ve seen yet. They’re not just showing up at the polls come election day, they’re showing up in a so-called swing state!

Plenty of fear and loathing here in Los Angeles as the election frenzy whips up a heady froth: loathing for the Bush Bullies and fear that we’ll have to endure another four years of their abuse! And sometimes a foaming at the mouth for the madness of it all.

*My wife and I are moving to Ohio for two months to vote for John Kerry. We live in a beautiful 1920’s building with incredible views in the heart of Hollywood. The apartment will be available as soon as September 20th. We will return at the end of November. Sublet our apartment and help us BEAT GEORGE BUSH.

Congratulations, you’ve taken the crucial first step toward becoming a part-time bike commuter. You have proven to your hyperactive mind, ever fearful of the spectacular failure of your heartfelt resolutions, that you are strong and coordinated and determined enough to cycle the approximately 8 miles from home to the new place of employment. Heck, today you rode those 8 miles, did a victory dance in the empty parking lot, briefly rested your pounding heart and heaving lungs, and pedaled 8 miles straight back! You are clearly destined for velo greatness. You shall be a punk rock star in this urban jungle of cars! But stop patting yourself on the back for a moment (oh, you were massaging it?) and let’s determine a plan of action. You aren’t a bike commuter yet, missy.

1. Do not fight the pain. Let it wash through you. The pain is telling you you’re alive. The pain is good. It is good to be alive.

Before you attempt this on a weekday morning, more Sunday conditioning rides are in order. Those limbs feel like cooked spaghetti tonight (mmm, spaghetti!) and they’ll surely be stiff and sore in the morning.

2. Study the route really well on weekend rides while there’s no pressure to be on time for work. Develop alternatives to the sticky intersections, especially the killer hill and the crushing freeway traffic on Los Feliz Boulevard. And that bike lane on Griffith Park Drive through Silver Lake is all nasty bumps. Maybe there’s a better way.

3. Renew lapsed membership in the LA County Bicycle Coalition. If it weren’t for them, there’d be no LA River Bike Path to ride on.

4. Accessorize. You’re a rock star, a velo queen. So go get yourself some sleek pants or shorts and a sexy Italian bike shirt in bright colors. Build a trunk on the rack. Decorate it with a few saucy stickers. Un Carro Menos! Re-defeat Bush!

5. Learn to service that baby blue. Change a tube, tighten here, adjust there. Learn it, don’t fear it!

6. Interview that bike-commuting co-worker about storing the baby blue during the workday. Assemble a personal hygiene kit to keep at your desk. Upon arrival you will proudly march your sweaty self through the office to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. Bring clothes, big lunch the day before. Make bike commute day Trader-Joe’s-frozen-pizza-for-dinner day. Prepare the salad the night before. Prepare everything the night before.

Momentum! Flow with this wonderful momentum!