my friend Gibby sent me this.... he sends me all sorts of stuff he sent me that Passing the Cyclist Quiz told me about Honeymoon with my Brother and well he sent me this.... FATMAN WALKING the pictures of him years ago make me wonder how does this happen? good luck to him
take the quiz a short little ethics test on driving and passing cyclists Quiz
there has always been a popularity of piercing in the cycling culture
but this is ridiculous
from
forgot where I found it
sorry
back from jamaica
thinking of the jamaican influence on american culture
of course we have the rastafarians both from jamaica and from the states
then there are the trustafarians often seen in ski towns out west
now there is the ever growing tribe of matzafariansnot defined on my quick google searchnot defined here an effort to avoid offending too many people
well now there is a new tribe sprouting up........ the pastafarians
this is definitely a complex world saw my first FSM insignia on a bumper todaywas not clear what it was until now
no photos taken since my camera was stolen
I have carried my new camera with me
but have yet to take it out of my bag
it is a greater issue of time and the cold then the camera itself
the small point and shoot definitely had its advantages
hopefully I will get over the technology hump and start getting accustom to my new camera
here is a shot from a DC Blog, In Shaw
as snagged from DC Blogs
DC Blogs
my posting on the camera snatcher got some attention from DC Blogs
DC Blogs is a blog resource that gives attention to various bloggers about the city
the topics range beyond bikes... yes people blog about things other than bikes
I heard on the news that people blog about politics.... but I did not find that to be so interesting
if my life were a movie
sometimes when things happen to me I try to think of what the audience would say if my life were a movie
you know, like when you are at some chop 'em up thriller film and it seems obvious that the monster is in the closet or hiding under the bed
is if that obvious to everyone else but me what lurks around the corner?
there was a span of time in my life were I had been held up at gun point, my house had been broken into, and my truck had been stolen
at this point in time I asked myself, "if my life were a movie... what would the audience be saying?"
would it be clear to the audience the next move to take should be?
was I supposed to grab my things and move to Kansas?
it may be obvious to everyone but me, the beloved protagonist, that all of these little events are building up to one major event
a major event that would be best to avoid
but... I lack dramatic irony
I just have the drama
(as it turns out those three events did not build up to a terrible fourth event)
well...
if my life were a movie today would have been tossed in for a little comic relief
left work early to go to physical therapy for my shoulder
turns out my appointment was for 4 and not 4:30
so they sent me on my way
trying to turn lemons into lemonade I started my walk home
in no time I had my digital camera out and I was starting to take some random bicycle photos
it was nice to have a little day light left for my forty minute urban walk home
I know the random shots are not as good as the close ups.... but
those take timing, something about the right moment
coming out of my PT office I ran into an old school messenger and passed my card warning him that I may snap a few shots of him when I get a chance
so the plotting of future Cyclist Photo Profiles are being worked in my head
but at this moment I only had time for my brisk march home with the occassional pause to snap a shot
so I am snapping some shots of moving cyclists
shots that are never composed well
shots that seldom come out well
shots that end up being a small fraction of a less than perfect/less than interesting composition
this camera is not suited toward motion shots
the digital delay makes it almost a camera toss
a few blocks past Dupont circle I found what seemed like a good score
a classic Raliegh five speed with an old row house under construction behind it
the house had a major trash removal tube attached to the exterior that made it an interesting piece in the background with the bike in the foreground
as I took the third shot and got ready for a different angle for the fourth shot a driver shouted at me from his truck, "what you flashing at me?"
we shout from across the street
me hearing him
him not able to make sense of what I am saying
he pulls over
he gets out of his car
we talk
it is not an aggressive exchange
yet it is not positive or friendly
after a few minutes of back and fourth
he still does not believe that I took a shot of the bike path and that he just happened to be driving by
even finding me taking pictures of a locked bike just moments later does not assist my case
as I show him the several shots of various bikes and different cyclist
there is some more talk
still he is in disbelief that I am taking photos of bikes and bikers
he is convinced that I was taking the picture of him, his truck, and his tags
as I go to show him the image in greater detail he snatches the camera from my hands
the camera slides into his pants pocket
never raising my voice
never getting angry
just shocked
in complete disbelief with the odd situation that has presented itself
I try to have him give my camera back
"come on... you must be joking"
disbelief is my primary emotion
he moves towards his truck
at each incidental brush and touch he get irrate
still trying to get past me and back into his truck
in a passive way I obstruct his route
finally stepping aside
in haste I take a look at his plate
as he pulls away in his truck I pull the driver's side door open
not trying to initiate anything
(okay... maybe finally trying to initiate something... perhaps a little late)
just trying to get my camera back
okay maybe wishing that as he pulls away his car door will strike something else
as he pulls away I repeat the tag to myself as I dial 911
the tag numbers are continued to be repeated
the police are of no use...
apparently they have to dispatch someone to my location
it is cold out
damn cold out
so rather than waiting an undeterminable time I walk several blocks to the nearest police station to file my report
honestly.....
I do not like going to the police station
blowing the whistle in not how I like to handle things
yet, it seems like the only option I have
the tag number is in my head
being reasonable was already a passed futile effort
in just two or three minutes I am in the District Three police station
I sign in
the back and forth with the officers on duty is less than pleasant
they are gruff... they treat me more like a criminal than a victim of a crime
with some basic urban static I file a report
up from her desk the officer is questioning why I did not wait at the scene for an officer to arrive
the cold was a good enough excuse
yet she was still less than pleasant
it seemed like the 20-30 minutes spent was a waste of time
the tag did not match the vehicle
no wonder he did not want his picture taken
either the tag is stolen or he is using a tag from a different vehicle
then again there is always the chance that I got the tag wrong in all my haste
the description was awkward
there was question of height, weight, and apparrell
but never did she ask the race
at the tail end of the description after the hair she asked if he was black
it was awkward
not clear if she was offended that I did not present it earlier
it was not that I thought it was a given
it was just that I was answering the questions as she gave them
height??? about six foot
weight???? about 600 pounds
(six hundred pounds.... exclaims the woman to my side.... who was also waiting to be helped)
okay... 500 pound.... he was big... he was fat
clothing????? white t-shirt and dark pants
hair???? short
facial hair??? none
how long was his hair???? short
okay
perhaps he was not even 500 pounds, maybe 350lbs
but he was large and apparently in charge
significantly larger than me and well.... apparently in charge of me
and well... I am not a slight being
after filing my report I was just relieved to get out of there
leaving more frustrated than when I had arrived
knowing that my camera was gone and there was nothing to do about it
knowing I had wasted my time going to the police
as I walked up 16th Street with Malcom X park just across the way I day dreamed what I should have done
not entertained the conversation and kept walking away from this man?
like David Carradine in the old Kung Fu films I should have set things right?
better yet make that Bill Bixbey to Lou Ferigno Incredible Hulk transformation?
each of these fantasies got ugly
neither ending good for either party
there is no winning a fight
even filing the police report is more likely to stir a hornets nest than get my camera back
then I realized that things went fine....
I had lost my camera
but I did not get injured
now I know that I should explain myself and offer to delete the image
now I know for future encounters... not everyone wants their picture taken
the silver lining to this...
this will force me to get accustomed to using my new camera
a much more high tech device that is that "too expensive to use" mode
well
this is a gentle push in that direction
this new camera will take better pictures day and night
its motion potential is greater as well
the use of this camera for a portrait scenario is pinacle as well
do I thank him....
no
but I am thankful that he did not run or gun me down
clearly he had issues
clearly he was paranoid about why the photo was taken
in the end his tags did not match the vehicle
if my life were a movie and this were the Truman show I am sure that people would have to laugh
as it was an absurd incident
my calm non-agressive response was out of character but clearly the best response
yet I wonder
if my life were a movie....
what book would it be based off of?
The Book of Job?
.
*a beautiful poem worth reading
my mom shared it with me in an effort to aid my battle with the blues
the date and author are a subject for debate
as for me... I had never heard the poem
only knew the word from one of Amanda MacKaye's band
Snopes.com clears things up
Henry Garfield
today as I switched between the tasks of hanging christmas lights and cleaning my gutters I could not get the lines of Henry Rollin's Family Man out of my head
it was a spoken word piece that he had recorded in his later days with Black Flag
pre Rollins Band post SOA
at the time of listening to this it always amused me
although I never found agreement in his bitter distain for such a person as the "family man"
Damaged was definitely an album that got worn thin on my turn table as a teen
his spoken word thing was awesome
words to family man
I can recall hanging at DC Space sitting indian style listening to the Henry Rollins
it was like a group of scouts listening to ghost stories at the campfire
now Rollins is doing his thing in Vegas at Mandalay Bay
Straight From Henry....
not exactly a BLOG
but I am sure if he blogged.... people would tune in
saturday i was forced to cross the bridge into virginia
the directions to the funeral home were incorrect
which is odd... as the funeral director gave me the directions himself
when back tracking on Interstate 95 I found myself in bumper to bumper Christmas Shopper traffic headed to Potomac Mills or some other mess of malls in Northern VA
it was hell
ended up missing the whole memorial service for my old friend, the marlboro man
was able to arrive just as the people were headed out of the chapel and into a greeting room
there I was able to gather with friends and family
from there I went to a reception that I had not intended upon attending
but having missed the memorial service I had to change some plans
called lisa and let her know that she would have to go to the second children's birthday party with our boys that day without me
I missed the morning party due to my having volunteered to sell Christmas trees at my son's school
it was a full day
was able to relax at the reception
spoke at length with the marlboro man's wife and an assortment of friends and realitives
on my way back into the city I stopped by to see an old friend at a bike shop in old town alexandria
it was really what I needed
Bennet has a knack for story telling
his day to day adventures would be a best selling novel or better yet a reality show that could air 24 hours a day
he is always causing incidents
then cleaning up after his incidents
on this visit he caught me up to date on some of the more recent incidents
if only bennet blogged
his life is like a Jerky Boys tape
bumper stickers are fine
it makes it easy for a person to identify their common car in a crowded parking log
but
in a situation in traffic when a driver makes an error or misbehaves those stickers can get dangerous
if I am passed aggressively by an asshole in an SUV and there is a "W" sticker....
my anger grows
my distain for the driver is not just for their driving style but for their ideas
they become a representative for those ideas
although I agree with the ideas of most of these stickers I still see there being some danger
but
it is good to see that there is someone from Texas who thinks like me
at times we must all think of ourselves as ambassadors of our tribe
not just when we travel abroad
but
as we exist in our everyday lives
don't be a stereotype
back from jamaica
no photos taken since my camera was stolen
Henry Garfield
