old spew
11-13-6
this is some old spew if you're looking for a some new spew click on that page
11.6.6
Monday morning. Time to go back to work. Looks like rain.
Please, take a moment and locate the exit nearest you. Keep in mind it may be behind you.
Summer camp
inspired by a true story
A summer romance, a fling, a carefree romp in the woods. An intense ten week session. Lovin, touchin, squeezin. Then in the blink of an eye, it’s over. A tearful goodbye. Exchanging email and promises to keep in touch. Sadly returning to reality, and soon losing the ten-week smile and the glow of summer and along the way losing the carefree notions that fueled the romance. Meeting up again in the chill of November…it feels different. Back to school, back to work, back to reality. Lots of clothing on, constant glances at your cell phone, a crease in your brow, you’ve got a bus to catch, work to do. Time matters. A schedule to keep. Stress. The holidays aren’t far off, thoughts of travel and family. The spring semester around the corner. You’re thinking. And thinking. But then, for a moment I can see it in your eyes, summer.
11-5-6
two roads diverged in the woods, and I --
I took a few days off work, and that has made all the difference. I'm still not ready to call it a vacation, but I will say a change of context helps. It helps a lot. http://www.pilderwasser.com/images/peekskill_2.jpg If I was at home with the day off work, seeing the same sights, smelling the same smells, drinking the same beers, it would feel like I only got a long lunch break. But traveling does put a new spin on things. I'm on day four of being bike-free. My beer drinking is in fine form however.
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
Physiological man does not require this paraphernalia to exist, but the whole man does. He is the only animal who lives outside of himself, whose drive is in external things--property, houses, money, concepts of power. He lives in his cities and his factories, in his business and job and art. But having projected himself into these external complexities, he is them. His house, his automobile are a part of him and a large part of him.
John Steinbeck 1951
The Log from the Sea of Cortez p.73
11-3-6
When was the last time I went 5 days without riding a bike? It has been at least three years. The last time I took off from work I spent the whole “vacation” riding a bike across Iowa. And now, I wouldn’t call this a vacation, I’d call it a long weekend. But a weekend of no bike riding. Instead there’s walking, bus riding, mass transit, trains, planes and automobiles. It’s a different world. A lost weekend in the eastern time zone. I can feel my leg muscles wasting away, my hard earned fitness down the drain. Yeah whatever.
Perhaps a more important question…when was the last time I went 5 days without drinking a beer? It has been a long time. So long that I cannot answer that question. I am without sufficient information.
11-1-6
runner are you a runner? No. I'm a messenger. Alberto Salazar is a runner.
bucky are you my bucky? No, I work for ABC, I'm a messenger. Dynamex is another corporate owned messenger company.
carrier are you a carrier? No, I'm a messenger. A carrier unknowingly spreads disease without showing any symptoms.
courier are you a courier? No, I'm a messenger. Ford had a small truck called a courier in the 70s.
messenger are you one of those bike messengers? Yes. Yes I am.
You can call me what ever you want. And depending on my time frame and frame of mind, I might even respond to your question or acknowledge you. I call myself a messenger. At least for 45 hours per week, plus countless hours spent in the bars after work. Here are a couple parting thoughts I'd like to share with you.
overexpectation riding after dark and thinking drivers actually see you. They don't and your cute little blinky lights won't save you. You're nearly invisible and it's a long dark winter in Seattle.
learned helplessness a trait that many government workers display as they feel very secure in their jobs and their very narrow and rigid job descriptions.
10.30.6
clear, sunny, dry and 29 degrees. Crisp. Eye watering, post-nasal dripping, finger numbing. In Seattle 29 is cold http://www.pilderwasser.com/images/5th_at_main.jpg I know, I've been to Chicago, NY, Boston. I've lived in Iowa. You may say 29 is nothing, but here it feels cold when most of the time it's 55 and overcast. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. It was a a great day to ride a bike in this NW part of the country. http://www.pilderwasser.com/images/nw_wonderful_.jpg I just had to stop at the store to buy some gloves. And eat a lot of food and drink a few more cups of coffee than usual. Burning an extra 800 calories just to stay warm. Wearing a few extra layers. It doesn't just feel like more work. It is.
10.26.6
she's like the wind
through my tree
how can you not crack up over that? google that song. Pure Swayze cheese. today is my Thursday, and it's a nice day for a bike ride, an eight hour bike ride around the city of Seattle. About 175,000 people work downtown. But only 25,000 people live downtown. No wonder traffic sucks. Toss in some tourists, shoppers, students and a Seahawks game and it's gridlock. In the next few years there'll be 5000 more condos going up around town, bringing the downtown residential population up to around 60,000. You think it's tough to find a parking space now? You think the city planners have it all figured out? You think your commute will get better? I say "bring it". I'm on a bike.
10.24.6
check out the spiffy new site http://avacbbracing.com/index.html the AVA CBB kids are doing well.
it's a fine line. between here and there. between then and now. between us and them. between this and that. between sane and insane. it doesn't take much. it's a fine line, a very fine line. if that reminds you of Steve Winwood, you must be as old as I am.
the sun came up at about 11:30am today in Seattle. six cups of coffee in the morning cannot make up for a lack of light in the sky. Don't get me wrong, I am not letting the Seattle winter get to me. Not this year. Not me. bring it. On.
how do you define success?
no matter what you have. what you earned. what you bought. what you won. what you inherited. what you wear. what you ride. what you drive. who you know. who you live with. who you hooked up with. where you live. where you work. what you do...somebody is having more fun than you are, somebody is doing better than you are, somebody is doing somebody better than you are. the grass is so much greener over there.
yeah. I'll see ya over there. I'll be the one mowing the grass, that green green grass.
10.23.6
let the record show, I wore gloves today, only from 8 to 9am, but I wore them, on my bike, it's true. I broke the seal, in late October. Soon we'll "fall back" and then it's a long dark haul through winter. But I refuse to turn the heat on in my apartment until the calendar says November. And I have resolved to not let the winter drag me down like it has in the past. Not this time. Not me. Not this Seattle winter. bring it on.
Did you always know what you wanted to do?
Money Talks. Ask Cory.
pilderwasser needs a new computer. So this holiday season, when you can't decide what to buy for your friends and family think of me. The order of and payment for these pilderwasser t-shirts will help with that new computer we discussed earlier. Money Talks. It's not just a t-shirt, it's a way of life.
And now you find yourself in 82
The disco hotspots hold no charm for you
You cant concern yourself with bigger things
You catch the pearl and ride the dragons wings
I heard this song this afternoon blaring from the tiny little radio on a tiny little scooter on Pike Street. "Heat of the Moment" Asia. Take this to the bowling alley. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kABPWT_gOcQ
10.21.6
what time is it? where am I? how long have I been wearing these socks?
it was 2am. I made it home. and I was wearing those socks for 18 hours.
If you're going to school in Portland or Philadelphia or living in Phoenix or hanging out in Spain looking for a little taste of the good old days as a messenger in Seattle
Lucas, Andrea, 37 Mike and Evan we know you're out there. Can I offer you some photos of an old alleycat? or a picture of a top tube pad? or a how about some elevator stories.
10.18.6
based on facts, the names have been changed to protect the oblivious
at 6 pm we would all meet up in Belltown. They were traveling from the top of QA hill. 18 minutes after 6 I got a call saying "traffic is bad, we're at the bottom of the hill" Factor in parking and it looks like 6:35 at the earliest.
If you were a bike messenger and you were meeting me at Shortys after a pick at the top of QA, I'd give you 5 minutes before I started calling you out. Traffic is not an excuse and there is no such thing as parking. There could be a Sonics game, a Seahawks game, a Mariners game, a Rolling Stones concert and a Grey's Anatomy shoot on QA Avenue and I'd still expect you to be back in 4 minutes. After 5 minutes you'd have to start blaming it on the client, the attorney, the secretary, the copy machine, a flat tire or gastro intestinal problems.
I cannot help but translate time into bike messenger time. I have no patience for parking or traffic. I have no car.
When you own this much commercial property, this many square feet of office space, this many office buildings in Seattle, you can do what ever you want. http://www.emporis.com/en/cd/cm/?id=108325 I heard he owned plenty of property on the East Side too but didn't like the commute so he sold it all. Right on Martin.
He can bring his dogs to work, all of them. He can paint paintings and hang them on the walls of his office towers. Like this one from 1000 2nd Ave. http://pilderwasser.com/images/martin_selig.jpg It's part of a series hanging on the 15th floor. He's an artist, why would he pay some well known or even unknown local, an arm & a leg for something that serves the same purpose as these beauties? He can buy another office building. He can bring a brown bag lunch. He can raise your rent. He can ask the city a question and the city will give him an answer. If he doensn't like the answer, he can ask again. He can and he will.
10.17.6
3.14159 or was it 8675309. My attention span is measured in microseconds. One thing leads to another. When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed. However here I am. I'm still here. Not really saying anything. My hunger for Taco Time is outweighed by my lack of energy to ride there. My hunger for a home cooked meal is far outweighed by my lack of grocery shopping. On my very short commute home from work, nearly every intersection in the core was gridlocked. And that made me smile. A beautiful day, dry, sun shining but traffic wasn't moving. All of this works in my favor on a bicycle. Gear Inches. Spoke length. Threads Per Inch. Newton Meters. RPMs, SPDs, QFC, SOL, BFD, Taco Time. I wish I could call Jimbo's Pizza...
10.14.6
Walk the Walk. bike the bike.
when you're punched in the gut by some cognitive dissonance, pay attention. If it happens once take note and move on. If it happens every day http://pilderwasser.com/images/gridlock.jpg you need to make some changes. Research has shown that if you're reading the words on this page, you most likely ride a bike. So I don't need to tell you. But I'm telling you anyway and maybe you can tell someone else for me. Ride a bike. Get out of your car.
The rainy season is upon us. the dark days of winter in Seattle. Riding in the rain is not always fun, but it always looks worse than it really is once you hop on your bike and get wet. I bet it doesn't look so bad when viewed from a car in gridlock, or from a stinky crowded bus that's stuck in gridlock. I'm not saying "sell your car" I am saying explore some other options even if it's just a bike ride to the beer store. Values, beliefs, attitudes getting along just fine with your actions, lifestyle and occupation.
October 12, 2006
once in a while Seattle feels like a city. Most of the time it feels like a town. http://pilderwasser.com/images/fourth_columbia.jpg I bounce around like a neutron among the workers, oblivious to most of them. The ones I have to share an elevator with I look at and wonder what it is they do all day, really what they actually do, not just their job description but what they do...all day. What I see is coffee breaks, long lunches and short elevator rides. Government offices are the worst, but large banks insurance companies, title insurance and health care corporations are right behind. Even huge law firms breed sloth. But these guys I respect, I tip my hat to, I raise a beer to, these guys kick ass. http://pilderwasser.com/images/window_washers.jpg I wouldn't want their job on a day like this. http://pilderwasser.com/images/img_1058.jpg
10.11.06
I've seen you around town a few times. You look good. Seems like things are going well for you. I didn't want to say anything, with him standing there, but I miss you. We had a good thing going for a while. It was intense, carefree, unlike anything I've ever had. Whatever it was, it left me with some feelings I can't describe yet. We both agreed it was time to move on but seeing you out there with him, I can't help but feel that feeling. Well anyway, you look good. I guess I'll see ya.
I sold a bike to Dan a few weeks ago. it's not regret, it's something deeper.
10-9 Day
here's the 10-9 Poster Boy on his birthday. http://pilderwasser.com/images/justin_10-9_day.jpg
ya got yourself one of them German carriers huh?
uh...what? Oh, no actually it's a Dank bag, made right here in Seattle
well that there is a German word.
Oh that's a family name.
Dude on elevator commenting on the pilderwasser arrow logo, in his own special way.
10.8.6
Product review: Sachs Quarz front hub. (yes that's how they spell it)
I refrain from doing this because I'm superstitious. Like when you brag to your friends about not getting a flat for 8 months, and then you get two the next day. But when I taco'd my front wheel yesterday it brought this hub to my attention.
In 1997 I bought a used cross bike with a wheel set built up on Sachs hubs. I trashed the rear hub pretty quickly, replaced it and proceeded to trash it too. The rear hubs were poorly built and had lots of problems with the sealed bearings. The front hub however is still smooth as silk. After that first wheel wore out I then built it up into wheels two more times. This morning I cut it out of the rim I trashed yesterday with my right knee. I cleaned it up and now it's sitting quietly waiting to be built up into its fourth wheel. Years of abuse. Messenger abuse. Thousands and thousands of miles. Wet nasty Seattle winter miles. and Never one attempt to "maintain" or adjust anything. The sealed bearings are beefy and overbuilt. Considering dollars per mile and maintenance costs, this is the best hub ever. Now if I've jinxed it, it's OK because I've gotten nine years out of it, and I got it used.
10.7.6
rolled up to the four-way stop just like I've done 23 million times before, a couple of quick glances for traffic, sub consciously getting my chocolate foot forward and feathering the front brake, it was all clear so I gave it a hard left pedal and then came around for a hard right with all my momentum forward and my body up over the bars and out of the saddle, I put it all into my right leg but the chain dropped off the front ring and all that energy had no where to go...so my body launched over the bars completely over the front of the bike. It was a relatively low speed crash and no big deal except my right knee came to rest in the spokes of my front wheel like cheese into cheese grater. My knee was grated like cheese and my front wheel was deep fried like a taco.
After I yelled a few choice words and looked at the blood on my knee I pulled out a spoke wrench and started trying to make the wheel rideable. I let all the cable out of the front brake and messed with the spokes enough to ride it down to Georgetown and the top-secret messenger boxing match. you'll see a few photos on the fight page.
anything I say can and will be used against me
stuck in my own feedback loop. Loop. loop. looping. I talked to Lucas yesterday, he said he reads this shit and attempts to stay in touch with what's happening in Seattle since he moved away. I smiled and said, that's cool, but I'm not really in touch with anything outside my head. But at least I put up a few photos.10.5.6
my world of work exists between 505 5th South and 200 West Mercer, and Capitol Hill to the water. When I travel out of that zone it's a rare treat. Yesterday Cory asked "what was your best drop today?" and I said "one union" http://pilderwasser.com/images/one_union.jpg which is about as mundane as it gets, a typical legal messenger day bouncing around in the core.
but today I left the core and hopped on a boat http://pilderwasser.com/images/bainbridge_1040_boat.jpg to try to serve papers on a guy in a nice house in a nice neighborhood near a nice golf course on a nice little island in Puget Sound. No luck on the service but the weather was perfect and it was a nice ride. Boat ride and bike ride. Nice. nice. nice
BEER
it's what's for dinner
you think I'm joking? it really is what's for dinner. glycogen stores replenished at least part of the way with nothing but beer. Beer me to sleep. Lather Rinse Repeat. http://www.spitfireseattle.com/happyhour.html 40 hours per week.
Jimbo these are a couple of classics: http://www.worldcycling.com/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=WCP&Product_Code=HSTDSTAR&Product_Count=&Category_Code Perhaps the greatest cycling film ever made. A worthy investment. I finally got my hands on the DVD. Let's all ignore the last 30 years of pro cycling and go back to Merckx at least for 90 minutes.
10.2.6
doing less with more. Buying a $4000 bike to ride around Greenlake on Sundays...if it's not raining. Upgrading to a new computer so you can play solitaire at Starbucks, or a new 17 inch display, wireless PDA notebook do-it-all device you just bought so you can do crossword puzzles on it. Driving your Range Rover 1.2 miles each morning to the parking garage at your office. (I saw a Range Rover with mud on it last week. I've lived in Seattle so long that if I see an SUV with mud on it, it really sticks in my mind.) And how about that popular heart warming story of the couple selling their large suburban home and "downsizing" into a $640,000 downtown condo. With thoughts of using their car less and living closer to their jobs. What a great idea, I wish I'd thought of that. That makes sense. I'm not bitter...oh wait, yes, yes I am. downsize this.
but like Alistair said, maybe bitterness isn't really it. maybe it is disappointment. Disappointment in the people, people who somewhere along the line stopped asking questions and started swallowing the message, swallowing it whole. The job-car-house-success message that they starting sending out in kindergarten. Yeah that one. The gas tax, the road improvements, the urban growth boundaries, the tax assessor at your door, the credit card bills. Maybe you should get in your car, drive to the gym, pay for parking and then ride a stationary bike for a while. When you're clear on this, drive home and look for parking near your condo for a while, then park your car and walk home. Yeah I've had a few beers, but you catch my drift.
9.30.6
today is my Saturday. Here's one of my favorite spots in Seattle. A chunk of expensive realestate sitting empty, growing weeds, a gravel pit http://pilderwasser.com/images/gravel_pit.jpg at 6th & Blanchard, it reminds me of my childhood and riding bmx bikes in vacant lots and it makes me smile when I ride by. Soon it will be another highrise condo with street level retail and off-street parking for hundreds of cars, but for now it's gravel pit.
9.28.6
you won't see this at Interbike
the layers are so thick and deep I'll just scratch the surface. Right Here and Now this is my new top-tube pad http://pilderwasser.com/images/robot_boy_1.jpg A Guided by Voices song that explains a way of life. below the stars it reads "gold star for robot boy" and some day over a few too many beers I'll try to explain it to you. It's more than just the lyrics http://www.lyricsfreak.com/g/guided+by+voices/gold+star+for+robot+boy_20062937.html we'll need lots of beer and time for the full story to develop. But anyway I really like my new top-tube pad, sewn by DANK screened by pilderwasser.
9.26.6
77 degrees, sunny, OK maybe you would want my job on a day like this: http://pilderwasser.com/images/smell_the_magic.jpg
arbitrary dates, times, deadlines, goals, expectations, and so on
documents for the judge's mailroom by 10:15am
no gloves until October 1
no fenders until November 1
don't turn on your heat until October 31
No beer until Noon
No white shoes after Labor Day
No sleep till Brooklyn
don't sell yourself short. Arbitrary, adjective. Arbitrariness, noun. Arbitrarily, adverb. Arbitrarily embrace the arbitrariness. Wear high heeled white shoes on September 27, crack open a beer in the judges' mailroom and savor it from 9:24am until 9:32am and then deliver those very important legal documents.
9-24-6
Who would've guessed, for all intents and purposes, the ERD on an Aerohead is the same as the ERD on a CXP21, In the 601 to 602 area code. 32hole, three cross, high flange flip flop and you're looking for 291s and brass nipples of course. Since RAGBRAI I've been looking at a crushed wheel with an Aerohead rim, and hanging on the wall I have two pristene CXP21s I got at the bike swap. Not much money, but plenty of time...soon, I'll have myself a new wheel.
do ya speak my language?
she just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich
9.23.6
Nothing says utility cycling like 36 beers on a Saturday afternoon. http://pilderwasser.com/images/cetma_4.jpg The steering is a bit different with a load up front, and it's not a curb hopping, whitelining shred through traffic. But it handles just fine. the ride is more deliberate and purpose driven. A dignified roll through town showing off the fine beer in cans I just purchased. A ride that takes some more planning perhaps. Or perhaps I should have pounded three of those beers outside the store then the ride with 33 on the rack would be smooth like velveeta.
I'm a jaywalking advocate. I speak the virtues of intelligent aware alert crossing of the street. In Mayberry I'm on the side of the pedestrian. However, oblivious clueless lemmings stepping into the road are a hazard. in the next issue of kickstand I plan to spew at length on this...I hit a lemming on Thursday and that's all I'll say right now. On the bright side, this means kickstand is starting to gurgle again. gurgle.
9.20.6
It was four feet tall and weighed at least sixty five pounds. It was one big pile of very important legal documents. The originals to be filed with the court and copies to opposing counsel. In my arms fully extended it came up to my chin and then some. A load. A load of shit. I took a moment to snap this photo before I took off http://pilderwasser.com/images/stack_of_legal_documents.jpg see the disgust and nausea setting in on my face and the handsome green "legal" lamp in the background adding a touch of class and old world establishment.
My new CETMA rack arrived today. I'll soon be rolling it on my grocery-beer bike. photos here soon. Able to haul huge amounts of beer in a single bound. UTILITY.
A $7000 Litespeed in full Dura Ace grupo, sporting a sheepskin seatcover wrapped in a plastic shopping bag, is like a $7000 wool suit in $900 loafers sporting a little Hello Kitty backpack. And they both get the "thumbs up" from me.
9.19.6
Operation Mayberry II the podunkness continues (see spew 7.6.6)
Today I watched a woman get pulled aside by a cop on foot at the corner of 5th & Pike. Apparently her crime was crossing 5th Avenue just south of the crosswalk, and by the Mayberry book of rules, that is jaywalking. And in Seattle during Operation Mayberry that's an $81+ ticket. Complete horseshit. Bullshit. Waste of time and money, everyone's time, everyone's money. So anyway this woman is dumbfounded by the entire situation, amazed that the police officer is even taking the time to explain this bullshit to her. But the cop is all business trying to write up her ticket, however she does not have her ID with her. She continues to talk with the cop, trying to reason with him, thinking that maybe she'll get a warning and be on her way, she's an adult, she now knows the rules of Mayberry, 10 minutes have gone by...She tries to walk away, the cop threatens her, says he'll have to "take her in" to the station if she can't produce ID. Like I said, HORSESHIT. at this point I had to go back to work and I rode away to collect more very important legal documents to file in King County Superior Court. When I cleared up all my work and rolled back to 5th & Pike about 55 minutes later, the woman was still there, now with 4 officers three squad cars and a motorcycle. What a waste. Seattle? Cosmopolitan? An urban cultural center of commerce, arts, recreation, and sophisticated living? No. NO. Just a podunk little town by the water, not even the ocean, just Puget Sound, which translates to sheltered outpost on the edge of nowhere. well now take down your fishin pole and meet me at the fishin hole... Mayberry, investing its resources in the prevention of jaywalking. shit. horseshit.
the hardest button to button
rolling through Mayberry today I had some elevator thoughts.
Wardrobe changes on the elevator. Dangerous, not just for getting caught with your shirt up or your pants down but for dropping your lock key or your favorite arm warmers.
Television monitors on elevators broadcasting USA Today quality giblets of crap to the captive audience who eat that shit up, so much so, that they often miss their floor.
If you've got bad elevator mojo you look like a scrub on paper and to your dispatcher. The fastest dude you've ever seen, traffic busting, smooth line cutting, alleycat winning, fast twitch muscling, wicked bike handler with bad elevator skills, is just another messenger.
9.17.6
What's RAGBRAI?
a question a child might ask, but not a childish question. It's been nearly two months since the ride ended, and it's only six weeks until registration opens for next year. www.ragbrai.org On Friday I got a check from DHL for some of the damage done to my bike, shipping it back from Iowa after the ride. The balance should arrive next week. With this money I can build up a new rear wheel to replace the one that was crushed. Or maybe I'll buy a hard case to travel with my bike. Next time I go to Iowa. I'm riding my bike there, or taking it on the plane in a titanium case. I will not be using DHL ever, or UPS, or FedEx. Or maybe I'll just use this money for another tattoo. My point is that RAGBRAI is seven days long, but it really never ends.
On that same theme, I went to a thrift store a little while ago, because that's what I do on weekends, and I found a REI Camp Hut-4. A huge 4 man tent with rain fly, poles, stakes and rope in the original bag, with the price tag still on. Pristene. Smelling like the showroom floor. Obviously never used, never set up, never touching the ground. I set it up in my apartment. It barely fit. But I got in and immediately thought of RAGBRAI. This thing is large and heavy, perfect for a fully supported ride across Iowa. I did RAGBRAI the last two years with a shitty little thriftstore tent and no rainfly, and I somehow survived a couple of serious storms. Now I have a kickass big thriftstore tent, that'll sleep two people and their bikes and a couple coolers of beer.
9-16-6
Star Crossed 2006, mark your calendar: http://www.hagensbermancycling.com/starcrossedcx/ if you plan ahead you won't have to ride home from Marymoor on the Burke Gilman in the dark, dark night after a great time in the beer garden watching the only twilight cross rece in the country.
so, why did the paralegal cross the road?
because Wednesday is a whacking day and he needed some porn --Jimbo
because her attorney told her to. --Jenny D
I told you I wanted A NO FOAM LATTE you fucking idiot! Now file this brief on your way before I fire your worthless ass. -Case
9.15.6
made in collaboration with DANK bags, (A. Banks photo): http://www.flickr.com/photos/andrea_b/237420058/ a very limited run of top tube pads hit the streets. but there will be more out soon in various designs. see here: http://pilderwasser.com/images/top_tube_3.jpg or here: http://pilderwasser.com/images/top_tube_5.jpg
and a little tiny test run of gym shorts is coming up. If they work out you can get your hands on a pair. Little short shorts that you wouldn't wear out in public but you'd wear lounging around with your cats while you read the NY Times on a Sunday morning. http://www.americanapparelstore.com/1401.html
Bicycle Messengers
helping the rich get richer since 1896
9.13.6
gray and misty this morning. Classic Seattle. What we can expect for the next seven months. I didn't see one single commuter on the way to work today. The mist kept some of them inside. It did not stop this guy http://pilderwasser.com/images/crazy_guy.jpg he put bags on his feet, under his saddle, and on his head. I snapped this shot at Monorail as a group of us stood dumbfounded watching him wrestle plastic bags and try to ride his bike.
here's a little ditty I wrote about going anaerobic, climbing the hill after work with a belly full of yakisoba and beer and a messenger bag on my back that's full of random, really heavy shit. In pain, vision blurred from oxygen debt, and exhausted from a day of work. Climbing the hill at a steady pace fueled on pride alone because there's nothing left in the tank. And actually taking pride in the whole painful situation.
legs turning
stomach churning
esophagus burning
there's no returning
I don't feel so good
9.12.6
in a close-knit community word travels fast. Travis got his bike stolen at 2107, a short time later Todd got it back from some scrub who was dragging it free-locked down the street. VC got her bike stolen yesterday at the King County courthouse and this morning Justin got it back from some scrub near USDC. Word travels fast, and even faster when everyone is linked with Nextels and cell phones and radios and they're all over town moving on bikes. A bike gets stolen, and suddenly there are 100 pairs of eyes looking out for some scrub who looks very unfamiliar with a bike that is very familiar to the messenger community. It's great to have the support of the close-knit group when you need it. The other side of that coin is, when you want to do what you do, whatever you do, the word travels fast, the grapevine is strong, the lines of communication are broadband, it's like Junior High, if you know what I'm saying. It cuts both ways, the front with the back, the heads with the tails, the yin with the yang. Do what you do.
Have you noticed that bike racks and ashtrays go together like social outcasts at a Junior High dance. I can't shake the Junior High shit. Many large buildings have bike racks off to the side, tucked away someplace near the industrial sized ashtrays that attract packs of office workers on their smoke breaks. And bike racks make good benches for smokers. And smokers don't like it when you ask them to move their ass so you can lock up your bike. Tuesday is a licking day. Wednesday is a whacking day.
why did the paralegal cross the road?
Answer in 1500 words or less. Compare and contrast workplace roles, office politics and billable hours in large law firms with those in small to very small offices.Cite examples. Just kidding, I just need one good punchline.
9.10.6
Les Raisins de la Colere...
Dylan put on a great race today, see photos on the Grapes page, more to follow. The prizes were amazing, prizes 50 deep. food drink etc. Well done.
sold some t-shirts. so there's some money in my paypal account. so I bought myself a CETMA rack http://www.cetmaracks.com/ and put that pilderwasser money right back into the bicycle economy. Nothing says utility cycling like a versatile front rack. Visualize me getting a batch of t-shirts from American Apparel and strapping the bundle onto my new CETMA rack and riding home to silkscreen lots o shirts. Then you give me money to buy those shirts. Then I package them up, ride to the post office with lots of shirts in handsome little packages strapped to my front rack and I mail them to the people. And I use that money to buy more shirts and buy more bike parts. From you to me to Lane Kagay to me to you. And so it goes. cycle. circle. bicycle.
9.9.6
why not bring a pot of tea
on a bike ride to the moon
angel cake for you and me
on a bike ride to the moon
after work at Shortys drinking cheap beer ran into a friend, she's a former messenger, and she's an attorney. I mentioned that I haven't been to her office much lately since a couple of the partners split off. And she explained how they took their land use litigation with them and now she's doing lots of contract work. This made it clear to me that as a legal messenger I am exposed to dangerously high levels of civil litigation. Nasty drawn out divorces, personal injury, and the same old somebody done somebody wrong songs. And this is perhaps the main reason I have such a jaded view of attorneys and the legal system. All the happy uptime attorneys handle everything in a professional and courteous manner over the phone or via email. Sign here and here and they're happy, their clients are happy and everyone gets paid. No need to rush messenger anything to anyone or file it with the courts. So all you attorneys, paralegals, law students and legal field professionals out there don't take this shit personally. Maybe you can link me to some legal sites that make fun of messengers.
the word on the street is www.demoncats.com is the place to see great photos from the NACCC in Philly, and great photos in general. This guy can take pictures, and you'll notice more than one sexy shot of Matt Case in there.
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
9.7.6
a tisket, a tasket, don't put all your eggs in one basket...
...at the last minute and then blame the messenger when you miss your deadline. Today is my Thursday, and I am basking in the glow of the urgent delivery business, specifically the urgent delivery of legal documents. I really don't feel too bad for attorneys that wait until the last 15 minutes of the last possible day to file a jury demand. When they had months and months to file it, they could at least call it in with an hour or so before the deadline. What if the messenger gets a flat tire, or gets pulled over on 3rd Avenue by one of Seattle's Finest, or what if the check is for $150 instead of $250, or what if, what IF the messenger just doesn't care if he gets it there by 4:30? because it all pays the same to him, he gets paid by the hour.
I have started to make a habit of walking into quiet law firms and saying with a straight face: "these are very important legal documents for John Doe Attorney" and if the receptionist or mail room person doesn't laugh or at least smile, I know that they're either a rookie and they're clueless, or they take their job way to seriously. Once in a while I hand the papers directly to the attorney and when they hear that line they usually smirk and perhaps momentarily snap out of their very important legal mind set and realize that some sweaty messenger put things in perspective. It's all bullshit.
###
Cruising on two wheels through grid locked traffic with a smile on my face. A beacon of freedom glowing among the phantom maggots and robot pimps stuck in their cars.
I wasn't sure if I said it out loud but it has been a recurring thought for the past several years. I've thought about it so much maybe people can just read it in my eyes.
--from Kickstand #18, April 2004
http://pilderwasser.com/slide_show.html?show=kickstand&picture=picture18.jpg
Two and a half years later this has never been more true. A recurring theme, a mission statement. A declaration. A world view. Can you see it in my eyes?
9.2.6
brake cable: $1.00
black 26.4 seatpost: $8.00
perforated Flite saddle with Ti rails: $2.00
living near a used bike shop: priceless
http://pilderwasser.com/images/12th_ave_bikes.jpg
September morning still can make me feel that way...
How can you sing Neil Diamond songs AND take yourself seriously. September Morn. come on.
Contents may have settled during shipment, for best results squeeze from the bottom and flatten as you go, store in a cool dry place, keep out of the reach of children, take one with food as directed by a health care professional, massage into wet hair, repeat as needed.
I am...I said
delirious
8.30.6
sitting on a 2 x 4 outside WaLegal enjoying a cold beverage after work. Dave says,
"It's August, I'm going to drink every day of August." http://pilderwasser.com/images/dave_and_molly.jpg
Saying it as if it was a personal resolution on the eve of a new month, saying it out loud as if he was seeking support from his peers, saying it in all seriousness.
We all paused briefly and laughed because it was August 28th, and he only had three more days to go.
8.29.6
the squeaky wheel gets... annoying
the IRO morphed from RAGBRAI back to messenger bike. Ditched the moustache bars and the two bottle cages. Back to flat bar and put on a rear fender too, and it's not even Labor Day. I'm rolling an old rear wheel while I wait for some money from DHL for trashing my wheel on the shipment back from Iowa.This old wheel has a very annoying squeak in the dust seals over the sealed bearings someplace that I haven't hit with enough grease yet. I was ready to use margarine today or olive oil or even tabasco sauce to silence the noise. I don't want to invest anything in this wheel because it's a scrub, the sidewalls will only last a few more weeks in heavy rain and the hub is not worth my time. Bring on the tabasco sauce.
I had a dream this was real, then I woke up and it was real, then I fell asleep. If you can't say it with lyrics from an 80's song, maybe you just shouldn't say it at all.
8.27.6
searching for that special something this Sunday morning. I own 5 messenger bags, each with its own special talents, abilities and attractive features. None however have that special something I've been missing. So I stumbled into REI and bought a backpack. A "daypack" with 3100 cubic inches of potential. Day Hikes, even short backpacking overnights. But I'm not in search of alpine wilderness, I need urban assault versatility. The first thing I did when I got home was remove the large padded waist belt. Then I colored in the embroidered logo with a sharpie to tone it down. I cut off the ice axe loop an removed the metal re-enforced lumbar pad. I haven't removed the sternum strap yet but I probably will and maybe some more of the do-dads I don't need.
3100 cubic inches is a few bags of groceries, or a 12 pack in bottles and a couple bags of groceries. Double straps, and compression straps to go low profile when it's only holding a notebook, 2 pens and a wool sweater. Four out of five of my bags are one-shoulder. Right shoulder. Never gone left, can't do it. My right shoulder is a few inches lower than my left, but that's a small price to pay for the convienience of swinging the messenger bag around 235 times a day to add or subtract to its contents. Two of my DANK bags are probably at least 3000 cubic inches...so what can this new bag do that those can't?
This bag can walk me to the bus, take the bus to the airport, take a plane to JFK, take a train to Westchester and then hike the woods in beautiful fall colors near the Hudson River. This bag can ride my bike to Safeway and come home with $85 worth of groceries. This bag can walk to the library. This bag can ride my bike to Fremont with enough layers of clothing to handle any Seattle weather and pick up a few bike parts too. This bag is like carry-on luggage that can ride a bike or go camping.
how many legal messengers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
talk amongst yourselves.
8.26.6
If you tried to send me an email recently...and I didn't respond it's because I never received your email. I've had some problems with the forwarding through the site and the junk mail filter. Please try it again. steelbikes@pilderwasser.com
elevator conversation 1601 5th:
civilian: are you one of those guys that um blocks traffic, you know in that uhh thing, that thing what's it called, that uhm mass, you know that uhhh critical mass thing?
me: no
civilian: Oh, well I got stuck behind that thing once, it took forever
Then civilian got off, leaving me on the elevator alone to ponder the thought of bikes in traffic. I ride a bike in traffic all day and my goal is not to stop traffic or even slow it down. My goal is to flow through it like water, to disappear, to co-exist, to co-exist so peacefully that I don't even register on the radar of many of the drivers I'm flowing with. If traffic is completely gridlocked I'm flowing just fine. If traffic is heavy I'm flowing all the same. And if there's no traffic at all the flow continues in a slightly different style. The flow often flows best when they don't see me. When they do see me and get nervous and unpredictable the flow hiccups for a moment or two then continues.
I'm all for getting more people out on the road on bikes. And critical mass does raise the awareness of some people. But it really pisses off a lot of people too. I believe utility cycling and more specifically bicycle messengers illustrate the potential for bikes to exist and actually thrive in heavy traffic. I'm all for group rides and huge numbers of people riding bikes together. But I am really in favor of flowing into traffic via bicycle and showing just the tippy-top of my butt crack to all the drivers stuck in gridlock while I white line it to my next stop with a smile on my face.
donuts, squirrels, bunnies, butt cracks, coffee, beer, donuts
The concept of Flex Cars, is a good one. Every major city in the US has something similar with catchy company names. Use the car when you need it and give it back when you don't. Saving money on insurance, gas, parking and especially maintenance. It makes sense in a dense urban area, when you only need to drive to buy a load of lumber or a load of groceries or a new 67 inch flat screen TV or go hiking in the North Cascades. But in your normal day to day life you can walk or ride your bike to work school store bar etc, no need for a car.
I like Flex Cars. However when I see one on the road I steer clear and prepare for anything because the person behind the wheel is most likely one of the worst drivers in the world. Crazy, inexperienced, careless, clueless, aloof, indifferent, nervous and sketchy and none of it matters to them because it's not their car. look out.
my day's so long and the gold is so small
I work to live and I live to - Haul
-Goody Blick & The Country Kind "Gold" 1997
8.22.6
I ACKNOWLEDGE THAT BY GETTING OUT OF BED EACH MORNING, I AM ASSUMING RISKS, AND AGREEING TO INDEMNIFY, NOT TO SUE AND RELEASE FROM LIABILITY MOST OF THE PEOPLE I COME IN CONTACT WITH DURING THE COURSE OF NORMAL EXISTENCE.
I was inspired by the USCF waiver I had to sign at the Goldsprints on Sunday.
If everyone had to sign a waiver like this maybe we could free up the courts and let justice be served to those who need it. Not the hypochondriacs of the frivolous law suit kind, that tie up the system and breed more attorneys with their bullshit lawsuits. At some point adults need to take responsibility for their own actions.
So you tripped and fell in the Wal-Mart parking lot and now you're suing for monetary compensation to cover your "loss of joy" that has resulted from your extensive injuries.
If I was the judge I'd say "you fell over, dumbass, it happens to the best of us, get over it. I order you to pay court costs for wasting all of our time."
The sad thing is, if all this bullshit was eliminated from the King County Superior Courts, I'd probably be out of a job. Moving piles of shit, some people call legal documents from one attorney to another and to the Courthouse...all day long, on a bicycle. Like I said long ago, I'm just moving it around, at least I'm not creating it.
8.21.6
if you ride a bike in Seattle you have probably seen this woman. http://pilderwasser.com/images/img_0890.jpg
She yells at motorists, pedestrians, jaywalkers and especially other cyclists. She takes vehicular cycling to the extreme. She is right and everyone else is wrong. I have no problem with vehicular cyclists and their style of riding. I do have a problem with the verbal abuse and scolding this woman dishes out when I do something that is wrong in her mind. She once yelled at me because I rolled through the crosswalk and waited for the red light up in front of traffic instead of sitting back in the line of cars like a car would do. I went back and told her not to take it personally and that I was just riding my bike, doing my job, and doing it well.
Today I rolled up on her on 3rd Avenue. And just after she finished berating a pedestrian, I took this photo. I got within six feet of her, holding my camera up in her face and she didn't say a word. I haven't had my camera handy when she's sporting the Polka Dot king o the mountains jersey. If you catch her in that send me the photo.
###
when you feel a cold coming on, do you go home early, drink lots of fluids, take extra Vitamin C and get some rest? or do you start pounding beers and stay out late and then later, pushing the envelope of better judgment to unseen limits?
the AVA Counterbalance kids put on a great show yesterday at the goldsprints. My hangover wore off at about 2:3O this afternoon. I took about 27 photos, which means a few of them are worth sharing with you. You can view them on the handy little goldsprint page.
8.20.6
my paycheck arrived and was quickly vaporized and re absorbed into the local economy. Bike parts, silkscreening supplies, groceries, cat food, a fresh batch of blank t-shirts. Mostly tangible stuff. Satisfyingly solid, visible, basic, elemental, building blocks, ingredients, real world. No car insurance bill, no health club membership, no gas card to payoff.
I spend some money on blank t-shirt to screen, the actual silkscreen, paint. some music to listen to and some beer to wash it all down.
Then I sell a shirt or two. Paypal takes a cut, I take it to the post office on my bike and mail it, and with the left over balance I buy some bike parts on ebay.
and so it goes.
Cycle. Circle. Cyclic. Cyclist.
8.16.6
the incessant mental noise of thinking
prevents you from finding that realm of inner
stillness that is inseparable from being.
--Eckhart Tolle
one way to drown out that mental noise is beer, beer, more beer, and wine, red wine. Some like TV. Some like food, junk food and beer. junk food beer and TV. Some people ride bikes. Perhaps a little song will help
8-14-6
we're on a road to nowhere
beer, food, music, bikes, 500m sprints. Sounds like the life of a messenger.
Toss in some polo, photos and prizes and it sounds like a party. Not just a party, a USCF event. I'd like all you Cat 1-2 racers that show up to go beer for beer with me, then eat a mondo chimichanga, then hop on the bike and race and when you feel like you're going to hurl I'll race you in the next heat. If you're wearing your team kit you'll have to smoke a few cigarettes too.
8.13.6
recent Sunday afternoon at O'hare for a connecting flight to Seattle
civilian woman: are you traveling or just on your way home?
me: I live in Seattle, just going home
civilian woman: Oh really? what do you do in Seattle?
me: I'm a bike messenger
civilian woman: oh, is that lucrative?
me: (incredulous pause) what
civilian woman: does it pay well, do you make good money?
me: (I know what lucrative means, I'm just dumbfounded by your question) no, but it's a quality of life issue
I really hate it when someone tells me what to do. But then I realize that my job is someone telling me what to do all day long. Telling me where to go. Telling me how fast to go there. Telling me when it’s time to have lunch and how many minutes I can have to eat. Telling me when it’s time to go home. Telling me what to do next.
That sounds like a short leash but I don’t really hate my job because there’s some room in there for a little creativity, variety, individuality, a cup of coffee, or a pile of yakisoba, some friendly banter, a bit of padding if you will. There’s someone telling me what to do but I’m doing it my way. And as long as I play along and maintain the illusion that “he’s the one telling me how it is” then we get along just fine. But I smile and laugh to myself because I know the truth.
the photo salad page moved and morphed into a photo casserole with tater tots on top.
8.11.6
don't take anything too seriously. Whatever. Code red my ass. The bewildered herd feeding at the trough. Oliver Stone's movie might as well be Disney. Propaganda. Have another beer. watch more TV. Eat it up. Swallow it whole. don't ask questions. Wait in line. Keep your mouth shut. Pay your taxes. Now you're under control.
Ride a bike. ride a bike. go for a bike ride.
8.8.6
Tuesday is a licking day. Tuesday is a licking day.
Wednesday is a whacking day, Wednesday is a whacking day.
I'm making an effort to incorporate some rugby songs into everyday life and normal conversation. that means whatever you want it to.
my bike arrived back in Seattle today, via DHL. DHL sucks. I unpacked it and noticed the rear wheel suffered a massive trauma during shipping. A severe impact, caved the sidewalls in and created a whooping flat spot beyond repair. The claim process will take at least 30 days depending on how things play out, because the "shipping party" needs to make the claim. The frame appears to be ok but needs a closer look. DHL sucks. Perhaps UPS was overwhelmed last week so the bike shop turned to the lesser cousin to cover the post RAGBRAI work load. Only 50 weeks until RAGBRAI.
Beer Run
beer comes in six packs, but don't sell yourself short, don't limit yourself. Open your mind to the 12 pack, the 18 pack, the 24 or the 30 pack.
with it or on it.
I set a new personal record in Iowa this year transporting 60 cans of Busch Lite back to the camp site from the local beer store. That's one 30 pack in my bag and one on my handlebars. Chris paid for it, I was just the messenger.
8.7.6 --five three oh nine
In about one year the date will work perfectly for that song, but it's still in my head right now. Now you can join me. 867-5309
I got it. I got it. I got your number on the wall.
I got it. I got it. for a good time, for a good time call.
Sleep deprivation, the effects of, when compared to, too much sleep, the effects of. Both show surprisingly similar results in the workplace. In an independently funded study I've been working on the results are being recorded in the back of my mind.
The physical/manual labor aspects of the job show a steady constant, unaffected by sleep patterns, except in extreme cases or when paired with overindulgence in alcohol and or heavy drug use. Digging a ditch is hard work no matter how much sleep you've gotten. Ditch digging is my favorite metaphor for delivering legal documents on a bicycle. But at the end of the day you can at least see the progress you've made when you're actually digging a hole.
The intellectual, mental, menial, repetitive tasks that require attention to detail are what really suffer in the work place when sleep patterns are changed drastically. Sometimes the subject is caught in a dream world, a daze, a haze, a stupor and goes off on tangents like the one you're reading. Other times the subject will just make stupid rookie mistakes that cannot be explained.
I got it. I got it.
the RAGBRAI XXXIV slide show is filled out with 50 shots, most of them taken by Mr. Chris Murray, who documented the trip very well with a lot of photos. I had to choose a few but I can always swap them out later. Thanks Chris.
I met this guy on RAGBRAI, he's got a great collection of bike tattoos. check out his photos here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/93537824@N00/
8.1.6
I bought a new helmet today. and when I got home and took a closer look, it occurred to me that I just paid $140 for a glorified styrofoam plate. Don't get me wrong, bike helmets are generally a good investment, but the profit margin on these things has got to be huge.
The Memory of Running: A Novel by Ron McLarty
I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me,
and every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be.
Well, how can I forget you, girl?
When there is always something there to remind me.
always something there to remind me.
--naked eyes
7.31.6
busman's holiday: noun, informal. A vacation during which one engages in activity that is similar to one's usual work.
back to work. back to the grind. but not really back to the bike because I never left the bike. If this makes sense to you, we'll talk more later. If you think it's crazy for a bike messenger to use up all his vacation time and money to go on a bike trip, you're on the wrong website.
7.30.6 post RAGBRAI hangover
i haven't slept in a bed for 10 days. I need a shower. Then I need another shower. You haven't seen dirty laundry until you've seen a pile of clothing that rode across Iowa. There will be some photos up soon and a new slide show too when Chris Murray sends me the mother lode of photos he took. Words cannot describe the experience at this time but here's a thought:
no shirt, no shoes, no problem, no watch, no alarm clock, no cellphone, no job, no obligations, no responsibilities, no expectations but wide open to the numerous possibilities.
what time is it? what day is it?
where am i?
it doesn't matter
just ride your bike to the next town. As slow as you wanna be. As drunk as you wanna be. As spandex hard-core roadie as you wanna be. Or as sweat soaked cotton cutoffs if you want. beer garden, live music, good food, church basement, local bar, back yards, cornfields, friendly people, garden hoses, open roads. bike ride
7.17.6I saw a movie called Police Beat last night. Set in Seattle, filmed in Seattle, the main character is a Seattle Bike Cop. One of the writers is Charles Mudede, who has a column in the Stranger. All of the strange events and incidents the cop responds to in the film are based on actual events taken from Seattle police reports. On another level the film is sort of a love story. It’s worth seeing, with lots of interesting Seattle locations. However you won’t find this film in the Cineplex at your local mall. You will find it at the Varsity theater.
On the eve of RAGBRAI my rigorous physical training on the bike and practice consuming vast quantities of alcohol are tapering down. These last few days I’ll be focusing on the psychological, emotional and spiritual challenges of a seven day party on wheels. These challenges include sleep deprivation which goes hand in hand with a heightened ability to nap on the side of the road in a patch of shade. Gastrointestinal stress on the input as well as the output. Dancing in an ocean of spandex. Honing my focus and existence down to sleep, eat, ride, drink. Repeat.
i'm trying to drink away
the part of the day
that i cannot sleep away
it's the same on the weekends as the rest of the days
-MM
7.15.6
You know you're a cyclist when the last six pairs of shoes you've purchased were bike shoes. You're a utility cyclist when all the shoes you own are bike shoes. Because you can ride eggbeaters with cowboy boots, or clips & straps with ballet flats, or bmx platforms with Sidis.
7.11 --BeAm, Is, Are. Stick to the here and now. no need to conjugate.
No need to worry about the Was, the Were, or the Cans, the Coulds, the Shall, the Shoulds, or even the May, the Might, or the Must. Stick to the here and now. Be
Fighting the urge to label, classify, categorize, analyze, predict, schedule, place in a historical context, deconstruct, chart, graph, break it down, over think it into the ground, mapping contingencies, worrying, worrying. What does it all mean?
Take all that shit and toss it out the window. Enjoy yourself. Be. Analyze that.
Go for a bike ride. Eat a burrito. Eat donuts. Drink beer. Be.
7.10.6
Slow down, you move too fast
You gotta make the morning last
Just kickin' down the cobblestones
Lookin' for fun and
Feelin' Sloopy
spent Sunday afternoon/evening/night at the Sloop in Ballard. Spent much of Monday feeling Sloopy. All the stories you've heard are true.
7.8.6Iowa is one of the intelligent states that put a 5 cent deposit on aluminum beverage cans. Keep that in mind and take a ride with me.
You live in a small town in central Iowa and on July 25th, RAGBRAI is going to pass through your town. You’re involved in local politics, the church, the PTA, the soccer team, the Grange, whatever, all of it, everything, the town is so small you do it all. So anyway 15,000 cyclists will be passing through on their way to an overnight stay in Newton.
A conservative estimate says that each of those cyclists will buy two cans of beer in your town. Leaving behind 30,000 empty cans, that’s $1500 just in can deposits. I can’t even fathom the profits that could be gained from selling cans of Miller High Life Lite for $2 a pop in the Church basement beer garden. Are you with me? Let RAGBRAI ring. It’s not just a bike ride, it’s an industry.
Roll on.
there's no 'I' in 'team'
there's no 'team' in 'Fuck You'
--written on the wall in the Shortys bathroom. It makes me smile everytime I read it
7.6.6
today the Seattle Police put on another incredible display of podunkness:
I have code named it Operation Mayberry. They set up Jay Walking stings on 5th avenue with motorcycle cops on foot, blending into the crowds, but with ticket books in hand, writing up non stop tickets to the citizens of Seattle for jay walking. But they were writing up tickets to people who crossed the street on a flashing don't walk sign, with plenty of green light left. These were working people just trying to get back to their offices or to catch a bus or to go home. Crossing the damn street when there's no traffic. Adults. Responsible adults getting tickets for jaywalking. Time is money. What a waste of time. What a bunch of small town bullshit. The Seattle Police really need something to do. There was a real display of "force" out today. Motorcycle cops, horseback cops, bike cops, foot cops, cops cops cops.
The King County Sheriffs Department has a little blemish to cover up after a few plain clothes deputies jumped out of an unmarked van and roughed up a couple cyclists in the Critical Mass ride last week. Total Spokane-like police brutality. The thing is they didn't ID themselves as law enforcement until one of the cyclists starting getting in some good punches on one them. They were just pissed that their van slowed down on a Friday night after work when they had some drinking to do.
In the famous critical mass scrap of 1996 when a couple messengers went to the slammer, the tussle was with SPD and they were fully uniformed and jumping out of cop cars. There was no doubt they were cops. These assholes last Friday looked like some juiced up frat boys in a minivan road raging on some poor cyclists. http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2003110069_criticalmass07m.html
7-5-6 Come on, ditch that track racing stuff, I’ll buy you a pina colada.
On my bike, after work, headed for home, already clipped in. And then Atom said, come on I’ll buy you a beer at Shortys. So I said, OK, one beer.
I had a beer with Atom, then Patrick showed up and said, come on I’m driving out the track to watch the Counterbalance kids race, I’ll buy you a beer. So I said, OK, one more beer.
So anyway I watched some velodrome action for the first time in a long time. The AVA Counterbalance team is a strong presence on Wednesday nights. I put a few photos on the salad page. photographing bicycles that are not in motion is so much easier.
Bikes, Bananas & Beer
apply liberally and evenly. Reapply frequently after excessive perspiring.
7.1.6
Yesterday I got a note from Victor, hand delivered via ABC messenger. It showed that access to this website is restricted by WebMarshall browser control service, because of "offensive language". So people can't look at this shit at work because I said shit. Well webmarshall, we're all adults and I think, people can handle the contents of this site even in the workplace. Shit. This is sixth-grade level language, although the beer drinking is college level. shit shit shit shit. filter that webmarshall. Thanks for the note Victor.
look for a fresh batch of pilderwasser shirts at Mobius Cycle. http://mobiuscycle.com/
Alf from Oslo, bought a couple t-shirts about a year ago. And now he's buying four more. He is the embassador of pilderwasser for Norway, actually for all of Europe.
AVA/Counterbalance Rolls. The ladies, the ladies: http://wheelsinfocus.com/2006/TrackPix/94ad7252mva28.jpg
Amara posted some great shots of the team on the track http://wheelsinfocus.com/
The smell of freedom
You must,
I won’tYou’re required to,
no I’m notYou have to,
I don’t want toThe new policy is,
whateverYou should,
no wayYou shouldn’t,
but it’s funDon’t do that,
watch meWe recommend this,
I’ll take thatI heard you’re doing,
not any moreYou can have this,
no thanksYou can’t have that,
I want it even more
6.30.6 elevator question of the week
is that a trout? is that a salmon? is that a fish? I've got to see that fish? is that a whole fish? let me see that fish. are you into fishing?
I have never had so many elevator questions on the same topic, aside from the weather, as I have had this week about the fish tattoo on my right arm. What the? I've had this thing for four years and this week people have come out of nowhere to pepper me with questions about exactly what kind of fish it is. OK. nice day for a bike ride. wouldn't want a fish tattoo and your job on a day like this. peace be with you.
fish oil, pickle juice, Frisbee golf, notary public, penalty kick, foot note, spoke windup, glass houses, throwing stones, vulnerable, casting aspersions, red wine, rolling resistance, proof of delivery, hump day, lunch special, happy hour, tattoo, pedal stroke, stroke, stroke, out of context, goulash, melting pot, tossed salad, forbidden fruit, sour grapes, close up, long shot, underdog, sore thumb, finger pointing, neither confirm nor deny the allegations, titanium rails, chiaroscuro, thrift store score, fine line, hard copy, courtesy copy, judge’s copy, return copy, copy, Copy? 10-9, rush round trip, rewind, replay, re-do, repeat, recycle, cycle, circle, psycho, cyclist.I had to draw the line somewhere.
6.21.6
Here's to the longest day of the year. Here. Beer. Here.
the day you lend your pedal wrench to a friend for a long weekend trip, is the day before you feel the need to swap pedals on a few of your bikes. If I owned a headset press and had not used it for two years, but loaned it to a friend one day, the next day I would be struck by some deep irrational need to install a headset.
Pretty women out walking with gorillas down my street
From my window I'm staring while my coffee grows cold
I saw Joe Jackson live at the Moore last night
if you're familiar with Joe's music I'm guessing you're as old as I am
6-20-6 PRAECIPE TO DREAM
I have had my hands on documents that have titles this long, no joke. Declarations are just a free-for-all...whatever. Baffle 'em with bullshit, pound 'em with more pages, tie up the legal system with your 16 file boxes of discovery that are essential to the case.
DECLARATION OF PILDERWASSER IN SUPPORT OF MESSENGERS MOTION TO PREVENT ATTORNEYS FROM FILING DOCUMENTS OVER 100 PAGES IN LENGTH, EXCEPTIONS MADE WITH CASH PAYABLE DIRECTLY TO THE MESSENGER, BECAUSE IF YOU CAN'T GET TO THE POINT IN LESS THAN 10 PAGES YOU ARE NOT IMPRESSING THE JUDGE, YOU ARE PISSING OFF THE CLERKS AND YOU SURE AREN'T HELPING THE MESSENGERS, SAVE YOUR STACK OF EXHIBITS FOR THE TRIAL IF YOU MAKE IT THAT FAR AND DON'T DRAFT DOCUMENTS THAT HAVE TITLES THIS LONG.
PRAYER FOR RELIEF: CUT THE BULLSHIT
sometimes you tell the day
by the bottle that you drink
and times when you're alone all you do is think
you know you're not taking life too seriously if you can sprinkle in some Bon Jovi
6.17.6
Today I was transported to a land far far away. A land where people buy houses. A land where people have kids. A land where people have BBQs and kegs of beer and invite people like me to briefly experience it all on Saturday afternoons. So like I said, I got a ride out there with my bike. I ate a lot of really good food and drank a whole lot of beer. Then I rode my bike home. And I felt like a real bike commuter. Because people that live at 135th cannot get to work in Seattle in 7 minutes no matter what traffic is like.The ride home was chalked up as a training ride in my imaginary RAGBRAI training book for several reasons. First of all I was riding my Iowa single speed. I ate a lot of food. I drank a lot of beer. And there were some beautiful rolling hills and not much traffic. July 23 is not very far away.
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No matter how many bikes you have: one, three, seven or seventeen, you can only ride one at a time. One of those bikes will get your attention and go for a ride while the others sit at home gathering dust.
However, If you’re a messenger one bike usually gets the nod and is the work horse most days, while the other bikes get assigned menial jobs like grocery getter, or coaster brake bar transport or second string messenger bike. The day-to-day work horse takes a beating but is appreciated. Riding the same bike 40 plus hours per week gives you a feel for it. A confidence that can only be gained through experience and hours in the saddle. Knowing exactly how hard you can dive into corners on dry pavement. Knowing when the tire pressure is low. Knowing when the chain is dry or stretched. Knowing when the brake pads are done. Gaining an innate sense for the wheel base and how you’re hopping curbs. Feeling the cadence spun out with 170 cranks as opposed to 175.
Sometimes a few months will go buy then one of your other bikes will get your attention and ask to be ridden to work after a long stretch of being the Sunday tweed jacket cruiser. Well I noticed this plea and dusted off the Bridgestone, which has put in very little mileage since it came home from Iowa last year. I pulled the moustache bars, put on some flat bars, new stem, a top tube pad, and changed pedals. It feels like a new bike. A messenger bike. A bike that wants to go back to work and deliver very important legal documents.
6-12-6
doughnuts...no strings attached
but donuts would be better
When I finally quit this messenger shit, once and for all, I’m going to open a bike shop. A big bright historic space with huge store front windows and high ceilings and wood floors. With passive solar heating in the winter, and well placed shade in the summer. I’m going to work there all the time, six or seven days a week. The shop will be beautiful, stocked with every bike tool ever invented. French, Italian, Japanese, you name it, I will have it, hung neatly on the shop walls. Everything in its place. A place for everything. I will have two Campagnolo Cork Screws with Cherry handles. I will have seven different kinds of bike tool bottle openers. I will have four brands of headset presses. The 3000 square foot work space will have works stands and tools for 5 full-time mechanics, so I can work on 5 of my bikes all at once. And 2 air compressors enclosed in sound proof cases. Truing stands bolted down to work benches 42.5 inches off the ground. I will have two Phil Wood spoke cutters/threaders. There will be cement floors and drains built in so I can hose it all down when the kegs overflow or the chainlube explodes or the cat pukes or the shit hits the fan. I will have shop dogs and shop cats. The bike book library will be monumental. The furniture will be well designed, attractive, comfortable and functional. There will be no non-dairy creamer. The coffee will be good. The beer will be cold. There will be wholesale accounts with everyone and everyone. Paul, Phil, Chris, Grant, Brooks, Mavic, Moots, Sachs, Sidi, Swobo. For me and my friends of course.
I will be at work all the time. I’ll show up 5:30am, or 3:00pm, or not at all. I’ll spend the night. I’ll stay for two weeks straight. Or take a week off if I feel like it. However, the shop will not be open to the public. The sign on the door will say “closed”, and if you flip it over it‘ll say “closed”. I’ll also have a large neon CLOSED sign, and it’ll be on all the time, like a beacon of freedom constantly sending its message, at all hours of the day and night. I’ll be in there working hard on my own bikes. Or on poetry, free lance writing, silk-screening, carpentry, cooking breakfast, pondering or drinking beer and pondering. The shop hours will not be posted. The phone will not be connected, so people cannot call and ask about the shop hours. And there will not be any employees because I won’t need any. This will eliminate any potential human relations issues, staff meetings, communication failures, personality problems, scheduling conflicts, and all the junior-high shit that goes along with trying to run a business with employees. Fuck that.
I will be in the shop but I won‘t be selling anything. Retail bullshit will not enter my sphere of existence. The windows will have incredible displays of bicycle art and elegant simple functional bikes because I like window displays. And I’ll spend hours creating them for my own enjoyment, not to attract customers. I‘ll be in the shop, reading the NY Times, listening to Miles Davis, or the White Stripes, or the Minute Men, or Bob Mould, or Guided by Voices, or Modest Mouse, or Guns n Roses or NPR and drinking coffee and beer and beer and coffee. Customers with stupid questions or flat tires or sheepskin seat covers or cracked carbon fiber forks can knock on the door all day long and I might even notice them between Husker Du songs playing on the Bose Wave Radio, but probably not, and if I do, I’ll give them a half smile then get back to my work. My work as a sole proprietor and my work drinking beer and pondering.
The back door will be unlocked and open whenever I am in the shop. And friends can stop by and bring their dogs and work on their bikes and add or subtract to the cold beer in the double wide Sub-Zero fridge or hit the bottomless pot of black coffee. The shop will include a beautiful stainless steel commercial sized kitchen. And a sleeping loft and an amazing bathroom with more magazines than a news stand, and I will not have to worry about customers fucking it up, because there will not be any customers.