Monday, April 26, 2010

Pettson and Findus

I was having dinner with Andrea last night when we started talking about cycling. (I mean, what else is new?) However, she brought up an interesting point. She was considering not biking to work anymore. Now, if you know Andrea, you'll know that she is a cyclist. She's been doing it for years, is always attentive, wears her helmet and is a careful rider.

But she also mentioned that she would not want to put herself in danger and considered the streetcar tracks a bit of a hazard and the morning commute stressful, which it is. It's ironic since one of the advantages of cycling people always tout is that it is less stressful than driving. I guess any time you're on the road, it'll feel somewhat manic. The logic behind Andrea's reasoning is that she did not want to put herself in danger. Makes sense. Most of us don't want to die or be injured.

The more interesting thing about this conversation was the fact that Andrea considered not cycling anymore. Not completely abandon cycling, but for someone whose commutes are mostly done by bicycle, this is a pretty big statement.

So it got me thinking about my own commuting habits. I ride everywhere. And on days where I can't ride, I walk. I'm lucky that my whereabouts are mostly limited to downtown, therefore easily accessible by bike/foot. I haven't taken transit in months, and I feel pretty happy about that. Yet, when I think about my not-so-immediate future on a bicycle, I blank out.

Andrea and I started talking about if we had kids and whether we would commute with them on bicycle. Andrea would not feel safe doing so, even if they were riding on a side street and said she wouldn't want them riding as commuters until they were much older. I understand the reason for that concern, and I feel pretty divided about it. The inner cyclist shouts, "Bike 4 life!" whereas the responsible mother says, "What if..."

For some reason, I've only ever envisioned myself cycling now (at this age) and maybe for another decade or so, and then again at 65 or whatever, riding along a Swedish countryside idyllically on an old Crescent with a basket full of berries and flowers, on my way home from the market with fish for my cat. I've got amnesia for those 30, 40-odd years between now and blissful retirement. I can't possibly see that far ahead in my future, and what's even stranger is I can't see myself on a bicycle during those mystery years. And that is CRAZY considering how much I have bicycles on the mind.

The really troubling thing about this crystal-ball gazing conversation is I can't seem to imagine where I'll be or what I'll be doing during those years, period. I'd like to think I'll still be on two-wheels, but who knows?

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Other people's children

Zombie Party

I started sewing again...

JV got a new bicycle. He named it Pumpkin. His birthday was last week, so Pumpkin gets a top tube cozy!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Thought du jour

Sometimes I feel as if words are like meals. I have to eat them three times a day.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Random Questions...

How do you tell someone you miss them?

More importantly, how do you tell someone you miss them and a particular situation without ever having been in that situation before? So for example, say you met someone who you thought was wonderful. You can imagine some kind of relationship with them, some kind of nest, some kind of life built together. All of this imagined within the first 5, 10 minutes of meeting them. And then the party or the gathering or whatever social event that brought you two together is over. And you never see them again. You don't get the chance to tell them about your plans, goals, ambitions, feelings. How do you tell this person you miss them without ever really knowing them? And how do you tell them without coming across as an obsessive, delusional psycho?

Or say you have a child, but you don't see this child often (read: at all). The child's other parent and you are estranged, and for reasons much to complicated to write out, you do not see the child. You do not have much of a relationship (read: at all). Yet, it is possible to feel that twinge of sadness on Mother's/Father's/Parent day. How do you say "I miss you" to someone you don't actually have a relationship with? Or rather, "I miss what I wish we had."

This question is courtesy of Chuck Klosterman, whom I love for reasons much too complicated to write out.

"Here's a question I like to ask people when I'm 5/8 drunk: Let's say you had the ability to make a very brief phone call into your own past. You are (somehow) given the opportunity to phone yourself as a teenager; in short, you will be able to communicate with the fifteen-year-old version of you. However, you will only get to talk to your former self for fifteen seconds. As such there's no way you will be able to explain who you are, where or when you're calling from, or what any of this lunacy is supposed to signify. You will only be able to give the younger version of yourself a fleeting, abstract message of unclear origin.

What would you say to yourself during these fifteen seconds?"

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Random Thoughts...

If cycling in the city was ever turned into a Super Mario video game, cabs would be the equivalent to Goombas.

This Boing Boing post on Ramen is responsible for making me quit a five-year hiatus on eating Ramen. Back in the day, when I was a wee one in junior high school, we would break apart the noodles and sprinkle the seasoning (MSG) onto the raw blocks of noodles and eat them as a crunchy, salty snack. Tonight, coupled with some Jameson, I had a dinner of champions. Cooked noodles, of course.

I love business cards. I've been thinking about getting my own for quite some time. Then I stumbled upon Toxel, which features some interesting business cards. Go forth and self-promote!

Thursday, April 1, 2010

WOOoo!den Handlebars

Ok, it's my day off, but I'm still kind of stressing over some things I should complete. As a result, I'm procrastinating. I stumbled across this Fixed Xor Broken blog, which led me to FlourescentBrown's blog that showcases some beautiful wooden handlebars he's made. Swoon!