today is the greatest

so this morning as i turned right onto southbound state, from packard, i "took the lane" (as they say) in my usual fashion, intending to hold it the next 200 feet or so to the light at hoover, which is always red due to the synchronization of the traffic lights; at hoover, i pause for no more than 10 seconds while waiting for the light to turn green, in a line of cars, and then proceed, in turn, then moving to the right as the bike lane appears. 99 times out of 100 this works fine, but this morning a man in a volvo suv pulled way out and around to pass me, while we were turning, forcing me to make some sort of evasive maneuver that caused me to bounce around a bit in the rough patch of pavement i usually (99 times out of 100) avoid.

so of course the light was red and i rode up on his left, not sure of what i would say, and he rolled down his window, and i pulled up and rested my hand on his door, and he looked at me and said, grimly, "don't touch my car, asshole". he was older, silvery-grey hair in a poufy blow-dry style, a sort of checkered shirt and maybe a tie, very professional-looking, no doubt in a position of responsibility somewhere and quite likely looked up to by junior staff, a mentor or role model even, and all he could think of to say to the bicyclist he almost ran over was "don't touch my car, asshole". all i could think of to say, taken aback as i was, was "you beat me to the red light, you're a good man". i did not, however, remove my hand from his door until the light turened green and he began to drive away, which happened very soon (because of the synchronization of the lights, you see). of course later i thought of much better things to say, and of course there was that piquantly intense frustration of not having gotten the best of that nameless chump, in the moment of his monumental display of chumpitude, but at least i could say to myself with confidence that i did not give up the moral high ground as it were. i didn't even cuss, or smack his car, or anything. he, on the other hand, began a conversation with a total stranger by calling him an asshole. being himself, i will cheerfully assume, is punishment enough.



anyway it has been terrifically spring-like these days. yesterday evening i rode around, trying to get a few pictures of some of my favorite spring trees, at which i was moderately successful. they are interspersed here, along with a picture of the everyday commuter, in all its utilitarian glory.



sharp-eyed bicycle gazers may note that there is no toe clip on the right pedal. correct! what happened, no more than half an hour before that photograph was taken, was that the chintzy mks clip finally snapped off; one of the two prongs had broken, when i don't know, only it had been like that for at least a week, and then as i was setting off the other prong snapped and i was left with my binda strap and nothing else holding my foot on the pedal where it belongs. i checked my boxes of stuff in case i had kept the craptastic plastic clips i had before, but no luck: in a moment of uncharacteristic wastefulness, i had tossed the old clips. then i checked the left clip, and one of its prongs had snapped as well. so much for njs-approved equipment, eh? today i will stop by the lbs and get some good-old-fashioned-american-fucking-plastic clips. because a fixed gear with no toe clips is some weird shit, my friend; downhills are especially scary because the pedal wants to get shed of the foot and it is not going to wait for the rider to get back on track, so to speak.

anyway there is my bike. love it or leave it. tonight i expect to finish getting those tubulars glued and cleaned up and on the white bike, and that is going to be a thing of beauty, not only to ride but also to just look at.