Absent-Mindfully

Steel & Momentum

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 11:05:00 +0000

By this time a couple of years ago, my dad was hearing the worst news of his entire life.

A lot of people feel real tragedy can't touch them. They haven't felt it and so don't really believe it's something that can happen. Death is something that happens on TV, to pets, and to old relatives. But people are fragile. Our soft bodies are easily damaged and our intricate systems can fail with a whisper.

Be careful out on those roads. If you're sleepy, stay off the road. If you've had a few, don't drive. Get off the cell phone, put the food down, your coffee can wait. You're piloting an enormous amount of deadly steel and momentum. It deserves your full attention.

I wore my mala beads today. Today I'll watch The Fountain, and probably some Wes Anderson. If I had the money I'd get another ring around my wrist. I'll drink. I'll remind myself that nothing is born and that nothing really dies. I'll tell myself that he's still around, just in different forms. I'll try to pretend like I've really accepted death as a part of life. Last night we watched The Darjeeling Limited and as the actors played across the screen I wished I had two brothers still. I liked being one of three boys.

Hug someone today. And to make it not cheesy, when they're not looking, covertly hump them a little.

- David

God Damn Cyclists

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 17:08:00 +0000

And I mean that sincerely.

You know how certain people get about certain movies/music/books they really, really like? How if other people hate them, then they're just retarded retards anyway. And if other people like them, then they're poser douchebag dickheads? Yeah, that's how I am with cycling lately.

Before, my love of cycling was a lot more accepting in nature: "You ride bikes too?! Then you are my brother and can do no wrong." Now it's much more, "Fucking cyclists! Get the fuck off the sidewalk/road/face of the Earth!" This thought goes through my head even if I'm currently on a bike. Why this sudden change? I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I can't get my sorry ass to work without leaving my bike locked to a fence at some bus stop because rusty, mis/disused, hobo-ghetto bicycles are always filling up the racks. And the recent proliferation of inexperienced cyclists out on the road doing shit like riding down the wrong side of the road and nearly killing me, themselves, and my faith in man in the process.

Give me the cold days, the rainy days, the shitty weather days over a nice sunny day. At least then I don't have to worry about some pasty office worker in spandex on a beach cruiser fucking with my chi. Good weather brings out the Good Weather Riders, which have about as much experience on a bike in traffic as I do on a donkey under water. It's not that they're intrinsically stupid (actually, there's a good chance they are) it's mostly that they have no idea what the hell they are doing. Imagine me, David the blogger, deciding to try being a rodeo clown. I go out into the pit or whatever the hell it's called, and then wrap a blanket over my head and proceed to stumble about. I may get lucky and keep all my plasma inside my body, but more likely than not I'm going to get myself and somebody else hurt. That's what I see when a person who only bikes on "nice days" goes by: A rodeo clown with a blanket over their head, who doesn't even have the decency to wear those huge clown pants so I can be spared the intimate details of their saggy anatomy.

Now all Asshole Elitism aside, I do like people riding bikes. It makes me happy to see people happy as they pedal along, enjoying the breeze and the smooth exercise. But if you're going to do it, do it right. Know the rules of the road, right-of-way, and traffic laws, so that when you ignore them it can at least be a conscious decision and maybe done correctly enough to not cause any misfortune. As for my own part, I read and I read and I read until I figured I couldn't read anymore. Then I rode to work for two days and read a whole bunch more I discovered I didn't know. I'm still doing that to this day.

But don't be fooled, you can't learn how to navigate the dangerous and sexy Metal Stream of Traffic from blogs and books. It has to be done before you can know how to do it. Just like porkin'. You are going to fuck up and you are going to piss off motorists and other cyclists alike along the way. Hell, I'm sure I do it every time I saddle up. But as experience grows you fuck up less, and the fuck ups become more slight, and then before you know it you're only pissing motorists off on purpose. (Actually that's a lie, there's no way to not piss off motorists, on a bike or not.)

When it gets cold again I'm sure my tune will change. People find ways to get where they're going inside shiny happy vehicles when the temperature drops and forget all thought of biking. Even motorists are a bit more tolerant when it's twelve degrees outside or raining gallon-droplets on your head. Then I'll be all excited to see a fellow cyclist out on the road and my brotherly love will come flooding back until the seasons change yet again and a new flood of n00bs arrives.

But then again, I'm sure there's someone out there who views Y.T. in exactly the same light.

- David

PRIRATE BROADCAST

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 00:41:00 +0000

I was a bit punch-drunk when I made this. Just a warning for all the random crap.

- David

I'm Not Being Sarcastic When I Say...

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Sun, 10 Aug 2008 11:23:00 +0000

...that people can be pretty awesome.

I know I bitch a lot on this blog. I bet if I categorized my posts they would fall into either "Bitching", "Bicycles", "Bitching with Bicycles", or "Random". I don't know what it is but the last two days I've been waking up on the bluebird side of the bed and this morning I feel like giving a big mushy e-hug to the people I think are awesome folk.

Firstly (and most recently) my friend Sam. Today he woke up early and drove me into work just because he's a good guy. After we were on the road he told me he'd gone to bed after 3:30 this morning, and he was at my house at 6:15, exactly when I'd asked him to. Also last night he bought us pizza and let Kasey and I relax on his couch while we watched a movie and I had a few beers. Sam is barely twenty-one and he just finished his first week as Store Manager of a Starbucks out in Suffolk. He's the man. Besides always offering to help and being a ton of fun to hang out with, Sam is just awesome. And so cute! Cheers to Sam.

Kasey's dad is also awesome. He's put more time and resources into Kasey's car this year than some people would put into their own children. He works more than any rational person should but still makes time for us no matter how tired he must feel. He always has pop and some kind of sweets for us to eat when we go over to his house and watch sports or Nascar. He's one of the genuinely nicest guys I know. He loves his daughter and takes care of her, which I'm really rather partial too. Cheers Kenny!

Speaking of great Heights (ha!) Kasey is pretty wonderful. I imagine that it's not always pixie sticks and slip-n-slides living with Y.T. What with the math retardation and constant leg humping and all. I do talk a lot of crap about things she is only mildly interested in simply because it's me doing the talking, which actually is very sweet when you know how Kasey is. She worries about me consuming meat and meat by-products whenever we go somewhere new to eat, and worries I'm eating enough in general. (Although between you, me, and the firewall (oh I'm so witty) I probably could cut back on the munching a bit.) We may be opposites in a lot of ways, but the parts of us that come together are pretty fantastic (and wet!) and we get each other. Plus, she has a great caboose. Cheers Kasey!

My friend Kurtz is a cool guy. I gave a shout out to him in my recent Commuting Anniversary post but I'll say a bit more here. Besides being a dedicated spandex-free cyclist he's intelligent, darkly funny, and honest almost to a fault. Last night Kasey described him to a friend as being anti-establishment. I'd never thought about it before but in a way that's totally true. The man is well-learned in the art of sarcasm and conversations with him are never dull or short on laughs. He likes the same movies I like, and in my way of thinking that's almost like being in the same cult or something. Despite his rough and tumble exterior he cares a lot about his friends. He's also the only man I've ever seen steal a cross and get up in the middle of a movie to pop next door for a drink (it was the Rocky Horror Picture Show but still, it was sweet.) Kurtz, cheers!

I'm going to combine two peeps here cuz in my mind they're always penetrating each other anyway. My brothers from anothers mothers Aero and Nano are my oldest friends and comrades. While I've met Aero only once in real life I'm set to be one of his groomsmen in his upcoming wedding, which is pretty damn cool. I put both of these guys down in the one-thousand page application for my security clearance under the section of "People Who Have Known You The Longest That Are Not Your Family And Still Like You, Somewhat". Aero and I have our own kind of language when we talk online, which is a mix of Spanish, 13 year-old girl AOL speak, l33t, and other shit we made up. While our opinions on movies does differ wildly at times, I feel we respect each other's film savvy enough to bow heads and shake hands and agree to leave the dueling pistols in the box. Now this may sound weird, but if either Nano or myself had been lucky enough to be born a lady we would totally be that couple people hate but secretly envy. Nano and I have one of those strange friendships that somehow bloomed almost instantly into something deep and lasting even though while I lived in Phoenix we hardly saw each other and don't talk much now. Cheers Nano and Aero!

Even though he's a punk and moved away I'm still going to mention Jeff. Jeff, I know I owe you an e-mail! It's coming, I just have to steal some Internets first. Jeff was the bridge between my solo cycling and the poor sods I currently bug on the Portsmouth side of the river. Without him I wouldn't have joined up with the Saturday riders (which I haven't done in months, but I will again soon) or gotten my clipless pedals as soon or as cheap. Which may not sound like a lot to you, but it is to me. Those two things helped cement cycling as a Big Thing in my life. Always upbeat and mindful of doing right, Jeff makes Jesus proud. And I'm not being patronizing or sarcastic in the least. If all Christians were like Jeff the world would be much better off. Always entertaining and fun to be around, P-Town misses him! Cheers Jeff!

I'd also like to say cheers to my bike Jenny for helping me get so totally buff that if I squat to tie my shoe my pants and underwears rip like I was Lou Farrigno from the waste down. Also for getting me around on the cheap and allowing my body to partake of it's natural biological processes. She's never broken down on me and even though she gets left out in the rain, locked to fences in questionable areas, and manhandled by a clumsy, sweaty guy she still looks good. Cheers Jenny!

If I left you out, you're still probably awesome. Unless you're a dick. And if so, eat it.

- David

Ketchup

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 14:45:00 +0000

Macaframa from MACAFRAMA on Vimeo

I love Macaframa. At the beginning of the above video I figured some kind of bunny hop action would happen, but I should have known it wouldn't be that simple. I'm totally gonna try this now (and eat shit in the process.)

Speaking of surprises on bicycles, I had a few good ones this week. I dunno if it's the weather or what, but people are being assholes again. For a while there I wasn't getting honked at, yelled at, gestured at, nothing. When I first started cycling I got yelled at weekly for about a month or two. This could very well be due to the fact that I was just starting out and I wasn't doing shit correctly or smoothly. But also, it was this time last year that I started, so maybe it is the weather.

At any rate, yesterday I was slowly partaking of the sidewalk to get around a mess on Granby (which is a narrow two-way street in downtown Norfolk) caused by a power company truck blocking one lane and a city bus trying to get around it while on-comming traffic tried to decide if it was going to stop and let it or not. I was rolling along at about jogging speed or slower and I came upon your typical teen/twenties guy: Backwards fitted baseball cap, long shorts, and t-shirt by some bad that probably sucks. I was preparing a line to go around him when he turned his head, saw me, and moved over well before I was near him. I appreciated it and said "Thanks!" as I rolled by, but before the word was even out of my mouth he says something like, "...the fuck where you're going." Ooookay. I'm already gone by the time I register what people have said to me so I just ride on. Maybe I startled him and he was trying to compensate.

On Wednesday when I decided to take on the hill I've been avoiding lately, I had the pleasure of getting gassed by a pickup truck spraying mosquito poison. It had a sign on the back that warned people to stay back 100 feet and here I am, out in the world, not surrounded by my own little bubble of AC and filtered air, getting sprayed. The scariest thing somehow was that the cloud of whatever it was coming out of the back of that thing tasted slightly minty. Luckily after a few blocks the truck turned down a side street. Then the hill came. I was all jazzed to stand up and get some good burn going and had just started to do so when I noticed a cyclist in the bike lane ahead of me. A second or two later I realize he's coming down the hill.

One of the things I hate more than anything are cyclists who don't know what the fuck they're doing riding on the wrong side of the road. I'm not even going to wait and play that game where we hesitate and then both move into each other's path again. I start looking over my shoulder to see when the SUVs and rice rockets in the lane directly next to me will be gone so I can get over. Finally an SUV from Idaho gets over for me and I'm able to get out of the path of the angry black man barreling down on me.

Now, in my mind I'm going, "Fucker, you're on the wrong side of the road!" but we're going too fast and I don't like to be a dick unless it's part of some role playing me and my girl are currently enjoying, so I don't say anything. However as we get close he raises his fist and yells in my face "Get the fuck over!" Right. This doesn't even bother me like the kid on the sidewalk sorta does because obviously I did get over and I'm 100% in the right here. Which is really what people care about above all else. In a world run by rules I dictate, he would have said "Thanks for getting over!" because he had no where to go but into direct traffic or somehow hop up over the tall curb and onto the sidewalk.

Not all surprises were bad however, as I randomly ran into someone I knew while we were both on bikes. This may happen to a lot of you cyclists out there, but for me, it never does. I guess I'm always going a specific somewhere instead of "hanging out" and that lowers the probability of a chance encounter. As I waited for traffic I saw a guy named Wes go by, who's pretty much responsible for Critical Mass here, and decided to chase him. I caught up with him after a few lights and had to yell to get his attention as he was listening to music. We chatted a bit navigating through Downtown and then parted ways as he was on his way to work. It was weird to see him on a bike that wasn't his tandem or attached to a trailer with his kid in it.

On my way home a guy on the sidewalk asked me how much my bike weighed while I waited for a light. He asked if I was a messenger (I did not have my bag, so there) and I of course said no. But man, that would be pretty awesome, if for no other reason than I love riding bikes, it's fun to be outside, and sitting on my ass all day in front of a computer is getting old. Maybe one day. I wouldn't turn it down.

- David

Salsa

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 17:42:00 +0000

To my handsome, sexy, benevolent, virile, and intelligent loyal readers this post will probably feel more like my normal writing then the recent stuff I've put out. Why? Because once again it is spurred by boredom at work.

It's Sunday and I'm seven hours into a ten hour shift. Today marks the start of my pemenant schedule of Sundays through Wednesdays, 7:00 AM to 5:30 PM. (As an aside, for someone who takes pride in being a grammar and spelling Nazi I have no idea how times should be correctly written out and am too lazy to check. Everytime I write out a time I think of that.) In seven hours I have taken three calls and my Average Talk Time is six minutes, fourty-two seconds. It's fantastic. I have all this time to read away from televisions, chores, dogs, and girlfriends who need some attention from Y.T.

The downside is I'm a bit sleepy. My new book The Tao is Silent has kept me awake and entertained thusfar, but getting up around 5:30 catches up with a person. I'm over one hundred and seventy-two pages in and just now read the back cover to find that the author is a mathematical logician! I don't even know what that is but I would never have guessed someone with "mathematical" and "logician" in their title would be able to write with such humor and spontenaity. Which is how I like my learnin', especially about philosophies of which I currently subscribe.

Walking around today trying to find cream and sugar for my office coffee I spotted a strategically placed co-worker napping. Strategically placed both in location and position as he was away from the bulk of traffic and slumped just out of sight behind his quarter-cubicle partition. Attempting in my own subtle way to practice Taoism in my daily life I decided to take a nap too. The Head Resting on Hand technique did nothing for me as my apparently unbalanced head kept falling off my arm everytime I passed a certain point of unconciousness. I opted instead for the Laid Back school, resting my head on the back of the chair.

Success! After waking up a few times to find my mouth hanging open and stifling the rising fear of drooling I even managed to have a little dream in which someone was debating me about marshmellows. I awoke fifteen minutes later or so, refreshed and energized, just in time for two tech leads to walk by looking for magnetic letters to stick up on a whiteboard. To you this may seem deplorable, unprofessional, and irresponsible but to me it makes perfect, natural, sense: I'm sleepy, the beeping phone would wake me up if there was a call, and if you could get away with it at work you'd do it too. Plus, all last week was a shit storm of varying degrees so I'm owed a slow day. Or at least I'm prepared to take full advantage of one.

Kasey's car is busted, still. Turns out it was the alternator or something. Her dad is currently in possession of the White Talon, a tow truck having picked it up yesterday afternoon in literally ten seconds. I have never seen anything so efficient involving one vehicle, let alone two. I hope that guy get some kind of recognition for being able to back that truck up, lowering the crucifix-like tow arm in the process, hooking the front tires, and lifting it up all with perfect precision. A bowling trophe with an abandoned car on top instead, perhaps.

One of the fun things that happens to me a lot in life is that things work out nicely all by themselves. For instance buses don't run Sundays but one of the guys I went through training with is on nearly my exact schedule, so I car-pooled in today. I'm now working Sundays and out of the blue Kasey gets offered to switch schedules for one that would includes Sundays for her, too. This type of thing happens so frequently, it seems Kasey is even to the point where it's no longer remarkable.

Okay, I'm off to locate some sugar for my instant grits while I take the last break of the day. Or maybe I'll try some more of this napping thing in the Quiet Room, which is really just a restroom with a locable door and a plastic chair.

Happy Sunday.

- David

Mobies

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 20:46:00 +0000

I like movies. I like seeing movies in theatres. Some people don't like to pay for movies when they can download them for free, but I like the experience of going to the movies. Even though they take a (Coca Cola-)red hot poker and jam it into my ass with ticket and concession prices. As long a your girlfriend doesn't throw it away (and I'm looking at you Kaseyfacey) that movie popcorn lasts forever anyway.

Recently I've seen The Fall and The Dark Knight. Twice. Once in IMAX. Suck it! The Fall was beautiful. I'm at work and shouldn't be blogging anyways, so I'm not going to go all hypertexty on you guys. Look it up yerselves. It was mostly everything I like in a movie. Beautifully shot, with purdy people, and a little girl with chubby cheeks and no front teeth. Did I cry during this movie? Yes. Was it because of Charles Darwin? Yes. I wish I could see it again but it's one of those movies that only stays at The Naro for a short time. I'll just say a few things then move on: Lee Pace is a handsome, handsome man. You don't need special effects to have a visually stunning movie. Sugar pills are not funny to some people.

Now. The Dark Knight. I love this movie. The action is fantastic: well done but not over done, exciting, and imaginative. The writing is very un-comic-book-movie. You forget you're watching Batman; it's just a movie. If that makes sense. And the acting: Christian Bale, I like you. I really do. But your Batman voice in this one was duuuumb. I liked your fighting style better though. Gary Oldman, nothing less than I expected. You are the man. Aaron Eckhart, you sure are handsome. Too bad you didn't get to bang Katie Holmes again! You definitely have the eyes for Two-Face. Am I forgetting anyone? Oh. Right. Heath Ledger. Heath, you make me so sad. You played the best Joker anyone could ever play. I want to be The Joker's friend, even if he does scare me sometimes. And he did. But I also love him. That's hard to do. You gave me chills. Both times. As Kasey put it, watching The Joker is probably the most bitter-sweet movie experience I've ever had.

IMAX actions scenes of the Dark Knight were breath taking. My definite favorite is when they're transporting a certain someone and a certain someone else comes and messes shit up. Then someone else comes and messes the second guy's shit up too. The entire thing is sweet and contains the only action sequence to make me literally sit up in my chair and speak some kind of expletive. Go see it.

Also seen recently was a re-release of Blade Runner. Lordy is that movie long. But I like it, and it looked really good. I watch it regularly while I fall asleep. Sean Young is hot in a kind of bitchy way and (young) Harrison Ford is the man. I'll say this: I'd rather watch long-ass Blad Runner than the new Indiana Jones. That's for sure.

Okay, I'm outie for now. I'm tired as balls and twice as ugly so I gotta conserve my energy.

Keep it real, dawgs.

- David

It's Not Like In The Movies

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 20:55:00 +0000

It never is. It's never as simple or clear-cut. It's never as resolved.

I'm too much of a softy for my own episode finale.

- David

A Year of Bike Commuting

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 19:42:00 +0000

Sunday, dear friends, marked my one year bike commuting anniversary. Woo! Apparently I set a calendar reminder and totally forgot about it until a text showed up proclaiming the event.

It's not a big thing, but I am proud. The only things I'm really able to continue doing for an entire year is your moms, so this feels like a real, albeit subtle, achievement. Kinda like, "Oh, I've been coming to this same bar for a year." If you've know me personally for any decent length of time you're aware I'm not a big goal setter. This just happened, and I'm glad.

Let's do math! This is going to be so horribly generalized that it's nowhere near accurate, but so what. It's my party. Before I got let go I was commuting 6.5 miles each way. I worked there for about nine months, if I remember correctly. So that's 2,340 miles right there. Then for months and months I was doing 24 to 35 miles every Saturday with the Portsmouth gang. Let's say I did that for... six months at an average of 29.5 miles. There's another 708 miles. All together, 3,048 miles in less than a year strictly going to work and riding on Saturdays. That doesn't count the few races, numerous store runs, and general daily dicking around I do on two wheels. Hells yeah, that's a lot of miles.

Even though it's vaguely unrelated, the recent truck-ectomy I've undergone makes my transition to the dark side feel complete. I do still drive Kasey's car on occasion but if she ever found my collection of questionably-legal "reading material" I'd be four-wheeled vehicle free. Concerning the aforementioned removal of my truck, I would like to say I paint it cleaner and prettier than it actually was. I do like being bicycle-only, but I don't like the way it went down, and I apologize to those that had to deal with it.

As other peeps online (see the Stalk Others section, stage right) have already said, it's not really about saving money or the environment (which are both good) although I admit to resorting to charts & graphs regularly when attempting to convert non-riders. Cycling is a huge complex of simple pleasures, beauty, and logistics all working smoothly together to produce a phenomenon that's just good. I feel dumb trying to name it so I'm done. Just try it. Twice. Even if it hurts the first time. ;)

In celebration I rode My Girl Friday, recently retrofitted with a front brake, into work yesterday. I want to take her out more, but she's like the hot teen-aged daughter I hope to never have: I think everyone wants to take her away from me and do horrible, horrible things. I see them eying her as we go by, leering like construction workers. Jenny is the tomboy, I don't worry about her much. We'll see how it turns out.

In closing, I'd like to thank Kasey for putting up with my ever-increasing bike dorkiness, and my friend Kurtz for being the first car-free guy I know and showing me it could be done with style and a hefty drinking schedule. Also Google Maps for only steering me wrong once out of a million routes, and all the guys at Cycle Classics for fixing my shit and giving me a place to hang. And God. Because I feel Him in this blog tonight. But not Jesus. Jesus can suck it.

- David

Vain Davey

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 21:48:00 +0000

I get off the bus. I'm already wearing cheap rainpaints rolled up to the knees over my jeans, similarly rolled. Two thin neoprene toe-covers are stretched over the first half of my scuffed black and white sneakers. My helmet, huge and red and hated, is already damp from being left outside all day. A tight black cycling cap under that. Sleeveless wool undershirt, white cotton t-shirt.

Waiting for a break in three lanes of commuter traffic. LEDs blink brightly (one hopes) in the heavy raincloud light. One foot shoved into a shiny metal toe-clip with a cheap strap. Looking over my shoulder at the white lights of oncoming cars it begins to drizzle.

Cutting diagonally across the moistened black road thunder cracks so close and loud I duck over the handlebars. Behind me a smattering of cars approach as they float down the bridge. The wind can't decide which direction to blow. The air is cool. I'm behind a line of cars, waiting to turn onto a more quiet street.

The light changes and we're off. I consciously tell myself "Drop, drop, drop" as I drop the weight of my body down on each falling pedal, trying to let gravity boost my acceleration and save my knees. I try to rotate my ankles just so, spreading the point of pressure over the axis of the pedal. There are as many different ways to pedal as there are variations of people's walks.

Cars pass me, hissing rain under their glossy tires. I eye every parked car's door suspiciously as I skirt the line between giving the cars that pass enough room and keeping some for myself. The rain has picked up a little. A fucking SUV pulls out of the curved intersection in front of me, accelerating faster than average, scurrying out of my way.

Rainfall ramps up smoothly but dramatically in a few minutes. I pull over to the empty parking spaces along the two-way street. No decent trees. I lean my bike against some sign I can't read. Sliding my bag off, I remove my hat and helmet and pull the now transparent cotton t-shirt over my head. My shoes are already soaked through. Unrolling the red rain jacket from my bag and replacing it with the wet shirt I smile ruefully, making for my eyes an overhang of my brow against the rain. A different SUV pulls into the side street in front of me, stops, reverses, and heads back the way it came. Jacket donned, I replace my headgear and squish my shoe into the toe-clip. It's raining so hard it feels like hundreds of heavy fingers drumming on the flat of my shoulders.

No traffic. Kicking off the sidewalk and onto the pavement, alive and fuzzy with the downpour. The rain is hurting my face, tiny disintegrating stones that threaten to split my lip. I bare my teeth in a maniac's grin and the reduced surface area of my lips catch fewer blows. My mouth tastes like I've lost a tooth. Warm salt water, pain, and metallics. I pass a ponchoed figure getting into his Jeep Liberty and he yells "Woo!", grinning and holding his hood as I go by. Woo indeed.

I grudgingly talk myself into pulling in to a cantina parking lot, crossing the rivered gutter. My mouth tastes so salty I'm sure something is broken. Spitting into my palm I see nothing. Again, nothing. It hits me: The collection of salt in my hat is being rinsed out into my face and mouth. Back on the road I spit to my right for a few blocks before it stops. I half wish it was blood. There's no angle that allows me to shield my face and see at the same time.

Ridiculously, "This Is How We Do It" plays over and over in my head as I fight the wind and what must surely be torrential downpour. There's no voice telling me to pull over, wait it out. That voice died in infancy a year ago.

I love this. This is the heart. I'm a red blur of… I can't name it. But it's in your face, jeering with a confidence and a finality that you've never known. Racing down one side and up the other of an underpass at over thirty miles an hour, you wish you were me. Peering out of your minivan window with envy at my freedom. I don't even see you. To me you are a metal cube that may be out to get me, and you blink out of existence as anonymously as you entered it the moment you're out of my personal bubble.

My wheels glide like salmon through puddles so deep the water swamps my feet with every revolution. I'm laughing. Part of me is already speaking these lines. The largest part is effortlessly rotating the sphere of my multi-layered perception in al directions, taking in detail and danger. Exiting an empty parking lot I lock up my rear wheel with my legs and slide across the matte blacktop, barely even slowing down.

Downtown. I run a stop sign that's there for no reason. No one honks. Moving through traffic and construction the natural grace of my movement overtakes me and I become the smoothest motherfucker you know. I'm God, I'm Jesus, I'm your misspent youth well spent. I'm Clive Owen in Sin City. I'm everything you want to be. I'm a bright and burning reminder of all the things you've done wrong in your life, looking down from your office window. Look at me. Now look at yourself. At this moment, I am magic.

A tree branch has fallen over my path. I tilt my head back and to the side like I was peering around cigarette smoke as I speed towards it. Everyone is huddled under the overhangs of buildings; my way is clear of pedestrians. I'm panting so hard nerves in my shoulders are being pinched. After a time I learned to welcome this as a good sign.

Alone save an impatient office worker atop the river ferry I look out at the five tall cranes that service a dry-dock shipyard. If I were any wetter I'd be twins. If I were any more calmly content I'd be enlightened. I'm spent. The beauty that only comes with this physical exertion overtakes me and I turn to sit on a bench. Removing my glasses and pressing a hand towel to my face I sob hard four or five times, my torso jumping each time.

Thus finished, I replace my rain-dropped glasses and watch the water roll away beneath me.

Well, I got my phone...

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 22:19:00 +0000

Well, I got my phone turn back on finally. This is only like the second call I've made with it since. I'll be calling my family soon. Just let those of them that read this blog know. Work is going pretty good, this is my last week of training so we've been taking call in all this week, haven't been doing too bad. I think I'm actually getting a hang of it so I feel pretty good so far. listen

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Chacha cha cha cha

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 15:01:00 +0000

Don't you know I love you baby?

I survived the weekend, mostly unscathed. Only got rained on once or twice, only almost fell out of my chair once or twice (lack of sleep), only had to sneak my way onto the ferry once or twice.

My training is nearly complete at work. I just wrapped up a ton of classroom time and now I'm fairly confident in my abilities to answer a phone and document it. From what I can gather, I have another week of shadowing or something, and then it's full on worky jerky. I'm only resisting the inevitable a smidgen.

I've grown comfortable enough with the public transit system to have devised my own route. Every day this week my regular bus has had a full bike rack before even getting to my stop. Luckily I can wait thirty minutes and take the next bus and only be a few minutes late, but that won't fly after training is over. So I did a little research and discovered an alternative route through a different tunnel that yields on-timeyness. True, it involves two and a half more miles of cycling in the morning, but the bus was mostly empty and the rack certainly was.

I might have a fun video to upload later today. The front desk is empty, the gym is open, and I have a video camera. Stay tuned.

- David

Exhile

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 20:07:00 +0000

Woo! This is my 500^th blog post!

Sorry I ain't been around more. Four weeks of finding a job and then two weeks before my first paycheck has taken it's disabling toll and now I have no phone and no Internet. Although for the time being I can still receive calls. Six days 'till payday! Hopefully that means six days until the restoration of my communication services. I'm lightly considering pilgrimages to the local coffee shoppe to partake of their Internet only.

Things have been okay. I'm trying to be a better Buddhist. What does that mean to a whitey in the big city? Reading my old teacher, mindfulness when I remember (ha!), and meditation on the bus. Apparently I'm full of bitter anger and despair. Who knew? Beneath this Peeps-ish exterior lies something not as sweet or fluffy. I'm working on it, it's a road not a destination, it's all in the process, etc, etc, ad naseum.

I finished The Road. It was awesome. Did I cry? Yes. Was it worth it? Fo sho. I highly recommend it.

Be safe, the weather seems weird all over.

- David

4th o' July

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 15:59:00 +0000

Twitter and BrightKite are awesome free services where you can keep track of friends (like me!) as they run around doing whatever it is they do.

Have a safe Fourth!

- David

This is a test post...

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 17:02:00 +0000

This is a test post from Jott. Calling it in on a cellphone so I don't know how it's going to look when it's posted, but I might be making posts like this regularly cause I don't have access to a computer like I used to where I can hop on the internet whenever I want. Let's see how this comes out. Take care. David. listen

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GOOOAAAAAL!

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 13:05:00 +0000

This guy is awesome, and he has balls. Of both kind! I love the victory run he does. Maybe every time I successfully make the ferry on time or eat shit on my bike I'll do that run.

Today is Friday. My sleep schedule is fuuuucked. I've been so physically sleep-deprived lately that my body is sore. For some reason my brain, which usually gets tired first, is up and active but my body is the one protesting. Yesterday I accidentally took a nap on the couch for an hour and a half. That's bad when you get home around Six, sleep until almost Eight, and have to go to bed at Eleven. I think I fell asleep around One and had to get up at Five-thirty. Ugh.

I got up late but somehow made it to the bus on time showered, dressed, and packed up with My Girl Friday underneath me. Nothing wakes you up like a quick bike sprint twenty minutes after coming awake. It's probably an evolution thing. Anyways, I made it on time but the bus rack was already full. I'm glad the public buses have them, but two muh-fuckin' spots is not enough. And as gas prices rise it's only going to get harder to get a spot. Yesterday there was three people with bikes waiting for the same bus, and I had to do some serious covert hovering to make sure I got my spot.

So I waited for the next bus. If I'd been riding Jenny, I may have left her. Maybe. But My Girl Friday is too purdy and I would cry a little inside if something happened to her. I walked up and down the line of idling buses, asking each driver if they were going into Norfolk. No luck. Thirty minutes later the next bus came, and after sitting across from a girl obviously bound for an office job (that I swear was staring at me) I caught the next bus and settled in for a relaxing ride with Rilo Kiley. "Salute My Shorts" (the song, not the show) made me feel a lot better this morning.

I got stopped again at the gate this morning, and after pulling my bike up onto curb and producing some paperwork I was allowed into the base. The police officer advised I had to keep my helmet on at all times in the base and added amicably, "You're saving gas money... going green." I pulled a sweet one-handed wheelie off the curb and manualed all the way to the stop light. Actually, I battled with getting my pedal flipped over and my foot in the toe-clip. Damn things.

Training is back on, have a good weekend if we don't speak again.

Piece.

- David

Love/Hate

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 17:36:00 +0000

I love Tom Waits. I hate that I won't be able to see him this time around. Anyone have some quick money they can float me?

Tom Waits is my religion.

- David

Watch the whole thing, the end is great.

Pussin' Out

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 01:47:00 +0000

Macaframa from MACAFRAMA on Vimeo
Seriously. Today I was pitiful on a bicycle. Unlike any of the fine peeps you see in Macaframa videos.

Perhaps my suckiness was due to getting up ass-balls early, or the lack of any water for the entire day. Bad diet? Poor constitution? The heat? It doesn't really matter. In the end, it was just plain horrible.

Hampton Blvd suuucks for bike traffic. But unfortunately I have to take it for a few miles on the way home for work. It's an unsafe road, especially during traffic. And I'm used to traveling along Virginia Beach Blvd! But in the week I've been taking Hampton I've had more angry buzz-bys than in months of my old commute.

So I've opted for a kind of shortcut. I catch the bus for a few miles until I can get on the calmer, gentler Colley Ave and then bike from there. I could argue that I'm being safer, but a small part of me feels like I'm copping out. Whatever. It makes my commute more enjoyable.

Anyways, today I missed the bus by forty seconds. As far as this little piggy can tell they come every thirty minutes. I couldn't decide if I wanted to wait until 5:15-ish (traffic was looking really backed up, which is also why I was late) or just suck it up and bike it. I reluctantly decided just to pedal home, not wanting to get home super late. Also, I was antsy and didn't want to stand around in the heat.

Head wind + three lanes + full traffic + angry commuters = So Not Fun. I can taste the exhaust most days. A few miles in I pulled into a parking lot and decided to just wait for the bus. I was cranky and didn't feel like dealing with people's roadrage bullshit.

While I was waiting and staring disdainfully at the constant stream of traffic, what did I spy coming down the lane but a thick woman on a bicycle. "Motherfuck," I thought. There I was admitting defeat when this lady on a commuter with panniers, biker shorts, and a bright green jersey is sticking it out like a pro. Sigh.

So I manned up and got behind her. I think she was probably a little put off by this kid on a fixed gear following her for about six miles. And not only that! After a few miles I tried to get in front of her to take my turn blocking the wind (in the industry we refer to this as "pulling") but she either didn't want to keep up or misunderstood my intentions.

I get a good distance between us as I (attempt) to sprint up the bridge and then the fabulous traffic on Hampton decided not to let me get into the left lane so I can get into calmer seas. Fack. I take the next right off of Hampton so that I can catch a light or something and navigate a break in the traffic to get to my road. But wait! There's a god damned grass median in the way! Lordy.

After sprinting through a short hole in the line of motor vehicles barreling across my path I hop onto the median and wait for another hole in which to complete my maneuvers. And here comes my friend again! In the correct lane! Hitting the green light perfectly! Smooth as butter. Siiiiigh. Now I'm in behind her again, trying to keep a respectable distance but still use the power of numbers to keep traffic at bay. One cyclist: Angry, disrespectful drivers. Two or more: At least a safe distance.

Finally our paths separated and I yelled a friendly goodbye to try and show her I wasn't a freak. She seemed to understand, at least enough to smile and say goodbye back. Then I navigated my inefficient path through Ghent and finally home. Hot, sweaty, and annoyed. Probably one of the worst commutes I have in memory.

But still, I wouldn't give it up for anything. Tomorrow will be better. Oh yes. Tomorrow will be better.

Rant over.

- David

Car-ectomy

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 16:33:00 +0000

This morning a guy named Loren who works for my dad took off for Idaho in Misti, the truck I've had for about three years.

She's a good truck; I just haven't been able to afford her for some time. She's going off to my dad's farm where she'll probably work harder but get better care. I'm slightly terrible at taking care of vehicles.

It's kind of like I had this pet elephant. Or perhaps a donkey. Yeah, pet donkey is better. She was handy, and a good worker. I'll miss her a little, but I'm not sad she's gone. I just wish it would have happened under different (less damaging) circumstances.

Anywho. Kasey's dad was able to come through in a pinch and get her car all fixed up and street legal for us (thanks Kenny!) so as a couple we possess internal combustion, but as an individual the only transportation I possess comes from chains, gears, thighs and calves. Vroom vroom.

Speaking of trans-poor-tation, I've been taking the bus in the morning to my new job at the naval base. Getting up at 5:30 in the morning? Shitty. The bus ride itself into work? Pretty nice, actually. I listen to music, I sit in a clean, air-conditioned bus and relax for an hour before a short mile or so bike ride into the base and to the building I work in. Then after work I change and bike the 8.5 miles back home so I can still keep my girlish figure. If I can get access to a shower on the base, I'll bike in as well.

For the next three weeks I'm in training from 8:00am to 4:30pm, then I get my real shift. I'm hoping for something good. It's always a worry when your department works 24/7. A night shift can jumble up your whole life, and being on the opposite schedule as 99% of the world is very strange. Although it can be fun. For a while. I think four ten-hour shifts would be pretty sweet. Here's hoping.

Welp, it's gym time. And then shower. And then errands, and then, who knows? Have a good Sunday.

- David

I'm alive, just not in

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 13:50:00 +0000

I'm alive, just not in front of a computer I can blog from all day long.

New job seems fine, pending a few concerns. More later.

- David

Untitled

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 08:32:00 +0000

This won't be repeated, explained, or expounded upon.

But you're fucking up.

Evo-viewtion

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 00:28:00 +0000

Everyone has their little idiosyncrasies. Kasey counts things repeatedly, in little patterns. Riley sleeps on her back. My brother is very particular about certain textures. One of mine is thinking about human evolution and how it pertains to the current moment. When I'm picking out food, when I'm going to the bathroom, when I'm getting sick, etc. I'm always wondering what my body is doing/thinking from an evolutionary standpoint.

Like for instance, today my body probably thought the following occurred:

I woke up and ingested twigs and berries (whole-wheat toast with jam) and some seriously filthy stream water (coffee). Then apparently there was danger or food, as I furiously fled or chased something for about thirty minutes (the gym).

After that I found some clean stream water and rested a bit before chasing down something big enough to fill two bellies (biking to Ghent for huge burritos). The Fuel Imperative fulfilled, I then set about fulfilling the Reproduction Imperative. Details aside, once completed my body shutdown for digestion and repairs. All in all, from a biological/evolutionary standpoint, a good and complete day.

As soon as I'm done with Spook Country I'll be grabbing the tome you see above, which plays perfectly into my preoccupation. Alliteration! And rhyming.

Tomorrow I'll be driving out my new work route to make sure all is fine and dandy with bridges and traffic and whatnot. 8.3 miles, son. Each way. Gonna be goooood. There's no way to puss out on miles like if I had gotten into the base three miles away.

Peace out, have a good weekend.

- David

Hookah

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 23:04:00 +0000

I'm bored and have an oral fixation. Plus I figure how-to videos are kinda fun.

The tinfoil and ember system is so that the tobacco doesn't burn directly and in addition to the water the smoke stays smooooooth. Really very flavorful and enjoyable. You can read the Wikipedia entry for hookahs here.

- David

P.S. The lighter I use is totally boss. Kasey got it for me. It has a sailboat on it, it weighs in at thirty pounds and has three jet engine flames throwers. She done good.

Necessitās

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 19:09:00 +0000

Needs seem to come in waves. Sometimes you feel a lot of need, other times you don't.

I need to talk to my dad about the truck. I need to apologize to my grandma for the same. I need to move my bike seat down a tiny bit, but it's stuck. I need to start working. I need to save money. I need to vacuum. I need to feel fulfilled. I need $7,000 for massage school. I need to meditate again. I need to go to more concerts. I need to send in my paperwork. I need to shave the dogs. I need more tattoos. I need to find Kasey a local job. I need to find Kasey a bike. I need to find Kasey. I need to take the recycling out. Badly. I need to donate a bunch of old clothes. I need to get my hip and knee looked at. I need to go back and cry during Rilo Kiley. I need hardwood floors. I need to be better. I need to get a tux. I need to go to Boston. I need to do yoga. I need to get home.

- David

Post Concert/Nap/Workout

david@absentmindfully.com (BuddhaDave) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 02:10:00 +0000

Weeeeee.

- David