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Sep. 22nd, 2009 @ 09:31 am Nirvana on a Schwinn
I thought I’d actually write about bicycle commuting for a bit, rather than just grinning like an idiot while I pedal down the road, and assuming everyone gets the message.

When I moved to Portland, I wanted desperately to become a part of the biking community. Couldn’t have been easier. I got on my 15-year old mountain bike, and I rode. The city is ready--and moving further all the time towards being a safe, not bike-friendly so much as bike-salivating city. Sure, there is LOTS of work to do to make it safer and easier, but trust me– it’s glorious here.

But this is not about Portland—though the infrastructure unquestionably helped me get started—it’s about the ACT of bicycling.

From my own window on the world, it seems I got to a certain age, or found myself with certain responsibilities or alternatives, and the idea of biking became a very rare thing I might do on a weekend or vacation. It seemed to require a lot of planning or preparation or some sort of something I didn’t have the time for. Biking as a means of getting around was just not really on the radar. How glad I am I put it there.
Bicycling is one of the most freeing ways to move through life. On the bike, your only responsibility is staying upright. Everything else must and does fall away. I love the wind in my face and the quiet click of the gears, the hum of my wheels spinning beneath me. I feel enormous accomplishment at the end of every ride, having propelled MYSELF with no motor, no exhaust, no box around my experience. And yes, I do usually grin like an idiot. After all, the whole thing does kinda makes me feel like I’m 10-years old.

On mornings when I commute to the office by bike, I am at peace as I sit down for a day at the computer. My body will have plenty of time to recover from its morning’s exercise, my blood is filled with oxygen, and my eyes are filled with sights I never seem to notice in my car, or even on the bus or train. Most days, I’ve greeted a dozen or so people during my ride, chatted with other bikers, smiled at walkers. People I don’t know have been part of my day, and I of theirs. I roll my bike with me into my office building. I eagerly anticipate the ride home at night, usually before I’ve gotten off the bike for the morning. Simple. Perfect.

For many, many people, this love letter to bicycling could sound deeply condescending, insulting. Bicycling for many is not a pleasant option, it is their only option. For a growing number of people in today’s economy, a bus pass is too pricey and a car is out of the question. For some, even acquiring a bike is an impossible task. I recognize I am blessed to have such choices. To bike or to drive? It’s a champagne problem, as they say.

Besides the joy, I bike because I want to lessen my impact on my planet. Whatever you believe is bringing on the changes, the environment is in flux. I’d rather spend my time left outside the car whenever I can, to exist on a planet where the air is clean, the plants are green, and the earth is rich. I’d like to leave all our kids the cleanest, greenest, richest planet I can. For me to feel the way I feel after I commute by bike, this is no hardship. I am lucky. I wanna share.

Living and commuting in Los Angeles for more than 20 years, I got used to the car just like so many others. But, LA is a also a town with packed commuter trains, and busses that roll down Wilshire with people 6 deep standing on the front steps. There are a lot of people in that city that have to get around. What LA – a town perpetually temperate and disproportionately flat—does not have much of, is bicyclists. Fortunately, there are people out there trying to change that. For safety’s sake, though, a bunch of them are on the sidewalks. Heads up!

Yes, I still bust out the tremendous metal box to get both myself and my kid around to most places. We aren’t close to much, besides a park – to which we walk. I’m working on my cycling strength to eventually pull the kid behind me for further and further distances. When she’s older, she’ll be pedaling next to me. Slowly, steadily, my objective is to pare our car days down to the absolute minimum. Simple enough goal, right?

So that’s where I am today. Bicycling feeds me in so many, substantive ways. I’m having a blast. I’m exercising my body. I’m feeling free and unfettered. I’m modeling for my kid a behavior that I personally think will be a big part of her future. I’m saving money. I’m saving gas. I’m accomplishing something tangible in my highly virtual world. I’m not contributing to noise or air pollution. I’m connecting with people. I’m experiencing the natural climate. And unlike when I drive, the time spent on my bike is one in which I am mindful of each moment. My head is clear, but also fully awake, alert, alive. I’m in the world.

Honestly, it WAS hard for me- initially - to pry myself out of the bucket seat and into the saddle. How would I figure out my route? How hard would it be? What would I wear? Exactly how much would I need a shower!? What did I need to buy? How could I be safe? How often could I do this? Those are questions only you can answer. Trust me, it's worth a try.
If you’re interested in giving bike commuting a go, look for resources in your city like these:
http://bikeportland.org/
Tell Google Maps that you’d use a “bike there” feature on their page.
http://googlemapsbikethere.org/about/
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Jun. 29th, 2009 @ 10:11 pm tat two
Tags: ,
wednesday i affix number two in the series of two ontwo the other of my two arms.

it shall say 'peace' and i am naively hoping that the blood drawn in the marking of it might be the last of such things. ever.

wouldn't it be something if that was all we needed to do?

tonight my little one asked me whether 'a little or a lot of people got shooted when other countries helped make germany stop trying to make other countries be like them.' a lot, my love, a lot.

it was a conversation about the sound of music, believe it or not. fucking captain von trapp and all his stoic learning to love. if you'd only listened to maria from the beginning, i wouldn't be in this mess, you know.

Iraq? Today, America proudly gives you... Iraq. (pay no mind to the gaping holes in your infrastructure and all the dead people. try a little spackle.)

And to the Iraqi refugee I know who today had to listen to recycle-dad talk about his power over the chickens in his yard and the joys of being a master composter, may I please apologize for... well, for all of us.
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Jun. 11th, 2009 @ 09:57 am The double-feature.
It was a two-film day yesterday. And not the popcorn kind...

Submission
http://www.religionnewsblog.com/9287/watch-the-film-theo-van-gogh-was-murdered-for

and

Taxi to the Dark Side.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WX0MPcN08Zc

I'd love to expound on these in an evolved, critical fashion, but I'm frankly still reeling. When the Abu Ghraib photos were first released, I looked at two of them - to understand something of the nature of the issue, but I waited to see the rest, wanting some sort of context and without the exploitive, political environment that swelled around their release. 'Taxi' puts them in context with what I found to be a deeply honest approach. Factual, unflinching, and with a deep, painful nod to its lack of sentimentality. 'Submission' is another piece of this story that must be heard, must be considered.

Zealotry and hatred and 'absolute right'- on both sides - are the forces that make these wars of ours untenable, inhumane, and unwinable.

America committed atrocities no less vile than Hussein in those torture rooms. Obama needs to step up and hold people accountable, else the door remains propped open - with more than enough room for the darkness to spill through.
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Jun. 4th, 2009 @ 09:02 pm A template I created. Hope it comes in handy for a few of you.
Tags:
First Night Out –
Instructions to the Sitter

Dear: (insert sitters’ name/s)

We are pleased you will be working for us tonight in the care and feeding of (insert child’s name).

We have gone to dinner at : (restaurant/club/bar with phone number/address/cross streets/parent company) where we will be until we achieve giddy hysteria/unrelenting guilt (circle one) at the freedom of having fun without our child.

There are a few numbers above the phone to commit to memory. (A quiz will be issued.) Please also note the following rules:

1. We have hired you because we understand you to be a proper, mature person. We trust you implicitly and are by no means taping your every action – even as you made your way here tonight.
2. Please keep all phone calls to 2 minutes or less. We hired you, not Verizon.
3. As we insist you not leave the premises for the duration, we have provided you plenty of nourishment. Kale, when properly blanched, provides energy, gusto and a small helping of patience. Eat up.
4. No drinking our booze – unless you ineptly refill with water making it obvious exactly what you did.
5. No sleeping. There’s really no reason for this rule other than the principle. I can’t sleep at work, why should you?
6. No loud music. In fact, no music of any kind. You are to sit, silently, eating your kale and drinking all the water you like before reaching a need to empty your bladder, and listen for (child’s name)’s need of you. Do nothing else. The t.v. has a device which tracks all use. Believe me. We’ll know.
7. (Child) cries herself to sleep, cries herself awake, and cries between breaths. She also punches, spits, bites, pulls hair and kicks the dog. Under no circumstances are you to react or attempt to alter any of her behavior. Sit there and take it. She’s a tiny little baby for crying out loud! If she draws blood, there is a suture kit in the bathroom.

Enjoy your night!! Hope she gets to sleep early.

(that’s on you, you understand…)
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Jun. 4th, 2009 @ 11:41 am life ain't no bumper sticker
but i dig this one---

"Can I vote on your marriage now?"

No, really. Can I?
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Apr. 23rd, 2009 @ 03:31 pm sign
Tags:
my favorite portland shop sign today

METALURGES

Guess what she sells? :)
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Apr. 22nd, 2009 @ 07:39 pm my speck
a wee bit tonight. the kid comes home from school and tells me - most excitedly -
we're doing a play! ( it's her first.)
are you a part of the crew? do you have a part?
i play a speck.
a what?
a speck.
a speck? that's fantastic!
oh, and a gnome. ( she sings) we are gnomes! some have beards! some don't!

what an awesome start to her theatrical career. nowhere to go but up, baby.
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Mar. 28th, 2009 @ 09:57 pm chicken little chirps
i suppose that someday, when i look back on these last several months, i'll be terribly objective, a bit disappointed, perhaps surprised. i have opted not to write, which to a writer is always a pretty poor choice.

the endless parade of perfectly-good-reasons, excuses, and responsibility-waving banners that file by between myself and simply typing into this journal... and when i have so much to say.

my mother is dying.

well.

the flip comments i've just squelched. ugh. the old sarcasm and the useless patter that so many have become so good at in this internet age. i don't really want to wow with wit nor test my skill here, you can imagine. this time i just need to write.

she has alzheimers and last weekend we moved her into hospice. my mother. for most of my life i've been pretty clear that the best parts of who i am, the things i like most about myself--they are all from my mom. without question, each of those qualities are balanced out with some other, less appealing truth that i also probably got from mom. but. i continue to value them, to cherish them, to just plain like them anyway.

holding her close last weekend, i told her the truth. i thought i had been doing so all my life, but i realized that she had probably spent her whole life thinking that my dad was the hero of our family. it's just what she would feel, whether there was any tiny bit of truth to that or not. he was that old fashioned dad who went to work every day for 40 years and hardly ever smiled. he drank and was difficult and kind of a jerk. (lately, he's just kind of lost.) but he brought home the money and to my mother, that meant an awful lot.

my mother was my champion.

though she still lives, i say 'was'. the lovely, sweet person that inhabits my mother today is someone who (mercifully) carries none of the crushing responsibility that my mother carried with her for her entire life. none of the pain (god, i hope) that she felt upon the death of my brother. none of the memories of her past, none of the dreams of her future.

it is my deepest hope that mom is living as she seems to be. simply in the moment. in a way that none of us without end-stage alzheimers could understand. for our memories still haunt us, our aspirations, our regrets, all the trillions upon trillions of little niggling dits of information that fill our head even when we sleep. i pray my mother is at peace, somehow. her confusion seems fleeting, her rage gone, replaced by a gratitude for every bite of every meal, for every sip of water, for every moment attention is paid, and when that moment is gone, it is gone, and with it anything there might have been to think about it.
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Sep. 3rd, 2008 @ 10:55 pm To Sarah Palin on the eve of your grand unvieling
1. Since I flat out disagree with virtually every one of your 1982-era positions, I still wouldn't dream of voting for you or McCain.
2. I bet you cut them up at the Pancake Breakfast.
3. Snarling at your opponent is ill-mannered.
4. Funnily enough, having "a lot" of gas and oil in Alaska doesn't make me feel better.
5. Perhaps its the belittling. Maybe it was the disingenuousness. Whatever it was, you clearly don't want to serve the American people over here on this side. Disturbingly entrenched for someone so young.
6. Before tonight, I had honestly never witnessed someone on the American political stage mock Habeas Corpus and be wildly applauded.
7. Lets DO talk about image a touch--since your game is so obviously to engender a slavish devotion from people desperate to know the Sarah behind the glasses, the oh, what does she look like with her hair undone... Get some contacts and wear your hair down. What is this, a damn Breck commercial? Really. And I mean this with all the respect you give women and couples that want to preserve the rights you'd like to wrench from them, Tina Fey is WAY more fuck-able.

Sorry.
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Jul. 12th, 2008 @ 10:58 pm Lord and Lady Bite Me
Why is it that we have a collective impression that tea drinkers are more evolved than coffee drinkers?

Which came first, the bean or the leaf? Who first unearthed their elixir-esque properties? Is it some pre-colonial genetic marker upon me that says tea drinkers are terribly couth and frequently british, while coffee drinkers are often as not cowpoke squatting over an open fire?

Or people who eat pie.

A friend of mine - and infinitely better blogger (happy belated by the way, you old coot)- has recently given up the joe and I'm simply aghast. But then, her child is 10. Mine is not. Maybe I'll get there.

Oh, who am I kidding? I love coffee and will likely die clutching a cuppa, so up yours you fancy british so and so’s.

I pass the time of this period in American history- I'm calling it the Democracy Armageddon - by mocking perfectly lovely people who drink tea. Truth is, I'm aghast (yes, again) at the state of things politically. Obama is smiling and waving in the centrist breeze and people are actually showing up to hear McCain give speeches that Bush already gave. And McCain - he of the "100 years" business reminds us of his stalwart Christian faith and really keeps 'em rolling in the aisles - or rolling somewhere...

"McCain's Latest Iran Joke

By Michael D. Shear - Washington Post
Sen. John McCain hasn't had good luck joking about Iran. But he tried it again Tuesday.

Responding to a question about a survey that shows increased exports to Iran, mainly from cigarettes, McCain said, "Maybe that's a way of killing them."

He quickly caught himself, saying "I meant that as a joke" as his wife, Cindy, poked him in the back.

Last time, it was also Iran. His singing about bombing Iran to the theme of the Beach Boy's "Barbara Ann" drew derision from many quarters but a "lighten up" response from McCain..."

Does NO ONE in the whole of the Grand Old Pious, erm Party, not a pastor, or a senator, or just an average church-going joe remember the whole love thy neighbor, killing is naughty lessons? I try, oh I try to be good, non-judgemental, but these people need to seriously rethink their belief systems. Some wires got crossed somewhere in all that hate for us gay people.

I know this is all over the map - I'm going to say that's due to the asshole on Bill Moyers last night who reminded us that the GOP is ideally the family values party. yes, that again- don't think you have any such bragging rights, Democrats, because you have (most of) the gays. Yes, the GOP - the party that doesn't believe gay people can or should have legitimate, recognized families because we're so immoral, we can't possibly deserve them.

After the extraordinary events in my own life over the last four years having to do with my family, I hate that I feel destroyed, laid inconsequential in one shot by that mouthy little punk. You have no idea of the value I have for my family, the personal choices I make to ensure its foundation remains solid, or the fucking MOUNTAINS we three have conquered together as a FAMILY-not as a gay or lesbian or alternative family-- as a family. So, shut the fuck up. Take care of your own and leave me the hell alone.

Right after you hand over the latte.
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