November 22, 2011
A strange kind of calm has welcomed me as I go about my bicycling ways these past two days. Much unlike this past Saturday. I decided to head up to my local Barnes & Noble book pusher (the hunter of the LBS [local book store, in this case] and the prey of the giant Amazon). It was there that I purchased The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano (con tilda y exclamaciones y accentos, bastardos!) to send to my brother in Tokyo. Yes, my brother lives in Japan, konichiwa ani! and the late Bolano was from Chile, but also occupied Mexico City and other strategically important metropolises. So that was my small peephole towards the broader horizons of the wider world here on a windy day in Omaha. Like me, my brother is moderately active. But, as often is the case with siblings, there is occasional competitiveness. I feel that I am more moderate in my activeness. In fact I may be among the most moderately active of suburbanites in my neighborhood. There, I said it. Now here's a poem,You won't catch me at the gym, I'll see you at the bar,
How you gonna get there? By bike, "No thanks," to car.
Members of the Tokyo Cycling Club also like to bicycle and "enjoy an occasional drink."
Speaking of which, tomorrow is the annual Thanksgiving Eve Taco Ride-esque bicycle ride and party with band at the White House Bar and Grill. 6:30 sharp and /or dull. Although it's supposed to be pretty nice out, please don't let that stop you from coming along for the fun.
It is kind of unseasonably warm these days, but I realize that it is bound to get chilly soon. Towards that end I am in the process of patching of my 15-year-old Pearl Izumi lobster claws.
It appears the previously Bohemian areas of suburban Omaha (such as the oft-homaged Poet's Perch, a previous view from which is shown here [before]
No comments:
Post a Comment