I wanted to post something but can't think of anything. Well, i could, but better not, for the lack of time shackles me like a short leash restrains an elephant wearing a pretty pink tu-tu. But i read this quote today that i thought was interesting.
Excerpt taken from Yan Martell, "Life of Pi".
It's not atheists that get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while. We must all pass through the Garden of Gethsemane. If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out form the Cross, "my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?", then surely we are permitted to doubt. But we must move on*. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation."
Now I've just started this book, which is evident because this quote is on page 31. But so far, it looks like a great book. He has a very interesting philosophy in regards to animals in the zoo vs. the wild.
Italics by yours truly.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
mike vs. bike
Have you ever heard of Richard Cheese? He has a great version of 99 luft balloons. But my point is, it sure reminds me of a simpler time. A time When I was a child. An easy time, a happy time. A time when I could jump on my bike and go for a ride. And what a ride I had. It was my first bike. Yet, not quite a bike, more like a bicycle. There is a difference. A bicycle is a little bike, like a baby bike. Anyways. I had one. It was a while back. Actually it was thirty years ago....whoa. This is the story, a story, about my first love. Love found, love lost, love known once more, destiny, fate?
It was a C.C.M. Swinger. It was red, it had wrap around fenders, and wide cruiser handlebars (for a child). The best feature though was the crossbar. It was adjustable. It wasn't a tube like every other bicycle. It was rectangle. Sort of like a gas tank. And it had imprinted scallops and the word "Swinger" pinstriped on the sides. Picture an Indian Motorcycle turned into a kids bike. This was it. I loved it. If I could have snuck it past my parents at night in the trailer we lived in, I would have brought it to bed with me. But being trailer trash, there wasn't alot of room for sneaking of anything.
Like I said, I lived in a shady trailer-park for a year or so when i was a wee tyke. It was 1976, a different age. I had started kindergarten and had to travel about 2.5 km.s to school. However, you wouldn't see me climbing out a minivan in front of the school. No way. I was independent. I had a Bicycle. And that bicycle was my ticket to coolness. And I thought I was cool. I knew it. I had to take a collector route to get to school, a road that had a dotted passing line going down the center, it wasn't some neighborhood road. It had regular traffic. It was a road that no 5 year old should even be walking down. But like I said, this was a different time, and it didn't stop me from cruising down the middle of the road, weaving between the lines going as fast as I can, all the way to school.
The school I attended was the classic one room schoolhouse with the dozen or stairs out front leading up to the doubledoors. I would pull into the schoolyard, bypass the bike rack everytime and pull right up to the foot of the stairs and lean the Swinger right up against the stairs. Right in the middle, in everyone's way. I had 2 ways to dismount and I had these moves down to perfection. For the first one I would ride up to the stairs at full speed at a 45 degree angle, and just when I thought I'd crash I'd hit the footbrake and skid sideways right up to the stairs, jumping off the bike while simultaneously leaning it against the stairs. The other was smoother and used more frequently. I would ride up parallel to the bottom stair. I would brake gently so that by the time i reached the stairs i could set the bike down and hop off in a smooth eloquent dismount while the bike always came to rest against the bottom step. It was poetry in motion. I made sure it was in everyone's way so they'd have no choice but to admire it as they tried to climb the stairs when class started.
As the years went by and the miles piled on the bike, it (like any well used machine) started to show it's age. I had flipped the handlebars so they resembled the steering wheel of a b-52 bomber. I thought it suited my riding style and imagination better. I had also painted the crossbar with white latex paint. I don't know why. Eventually I moved into the world of b.m.x. and the last memories of the Swinger were of it being chopped into about 50 pieces, I though it would be fun to rebuild it. It wasn't that fun. It was the classic kid's way to send the bike into the afterlife.
Fast forward 30 years. I 've had many bike in that time, but I always thought back to the Swinger. I missed it. I'm a nostalgic type of guy so I always kept my eyes open for another. But to no avail. The closest I came was finding a frame, sans all moving parts and the coveted crossbar. Way to far gone. I had all but given up on my quest when one random day I happened to be visiting one of my favorite bike shops (Reverend cycles, Imperial, Burnaby...props....) and low and behold hanging on the wall inconspicuously behind some other bikes was a Swinger. A SWINGER, a C.C.M. , red, fully original, intact, wrap around fendered, wide kid cruiser bar Swinger. I was aghast. It even had the same B.C. Tel reflective stickers on the fenders that i had so many years ago. I had to have it! I asked the owner, he said it wasn't for sale. But after I told him my story he said "well, i have to sell it to you then!" He understood.
So for $80 bucks I was once again the owner of a Swinger. It now hangs on one of my walls.
It's to small for me to ride, but my son, he's 4 and it's waiting for him. He already has 3.
Currently, I have 5 bikes. I love bikes. I go to shops and spend hours looking at the bikes. They are art. Except the crappy ones, but I can appreciate them as well. I can't throw a bike away. No bike is junk. Some come close, but as long as it roles....However, I hate when bikes are used for political means, like critical mass rides. Bikes are meant to be for fun and transportation, and looking cool. I will always have a bike. One of my biggest regrets is selling a Santa Cruz Chameleon a year ago that I had painstakingly built up to be top of the line. But since I didn't have disc brakes I had to take a bath when I sold it. I don't even know why I sold it. I honestly can't remember. I think maybe to pay off my damn visa or something. Never again.
Now, as I listen to the Richard Cheese version of Coldplay's "yellow" I think i'll go a look at my bicycle hanging on the wall, I may even take it down and dust it off. I'll never sell it though, if anything, I'll find another bike to hang beside it.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
the fun weekend.
well, after reading the first post i realized i was in a real foul mood. not so cool. whatever. things are different now, i can feel it. hahahaha, classic denial. If you don't know me then you'd probably think I'm a nut case, not so much, borderline at times. phases, everyone has em, this blog will expose me for what i am, the shape shifting mongrel that is me. But then again, there are those who do know me and think I'm a nutcase.
I hope that i can provide something interesting, we'll see. I'm not that political, so if you want to hear the great eloquence of a political scientist then forget about it, political ramblings are all heresy anyways. here today, gone tomorrow. Much like the social hot topics like global warming, the invasion of Iraq and the death of Anna Nicole. all three can be summed up in on sentence, you ready? bound to happen. And as far as philosophical diatribes about the origin of man and God...you've already made up your mind.
'so , enough about you, lets talk about me'....i love that line. I remember one time, me and 5 friends were driving home form a skateboarding weekend in another town. It was about 6 in the a.m. on a quiet summer Sunday morn. We were gripped in the lethargic euphoria that comes only after a great weekend of doing what one loves to do. But we were headed back to reality, we almost never made it back. On a straight road the driver fell asleep and smashed into a cement abutment near the entrance to a bridge. I was sleeping in the backseat when i was awoken with the sudden smashing sound of sick metal and glass fracturing and bending frames of chipping paint and shattering plastic. The violence of the collision threw me into the back of the seat in front then sideways into the door. We Hit the cement wall and then spun onto the bridge. Once on the bridge i saw that we were still travelling at a great rate of speed, and spinning and i saw that we were going to hit the railing, we did, then i saw blue sky. I thought we had crashed through the railing. If you were to throw a shopping cart off this bridge it would plummet about 150 feet before landing in a shallow river below. In fact, that is exactly what I thought we were doing. Fortunately i was mistaken. The car just sort of jumped up when it hit the railing and continued to spin wildly down the length of the bridge. It spun about 300 feet further down the bridge before coming to a stop in a steamy smokey heap across both lanes. Oil and radiator fluid seeping out in all directions like a jar of strawberry jam dropped from a fridge door. Or blood from a fatal gunshot wound. None of the doors would open, we climbed out the windows and stared in disbelief. The car had once been a source of so much fun and pride. It was a VW Jetta. Black with factory mags and sunroof. A turbocharged car that ran on diesel and had all the top o' the line features. Not bad for a 18 year old kid back in 1990. It was a great car. Now it was destroyed. No one was hurt aside form cuts and bruises. Nobody was wearing a seat belt except the two in the front. And the passenger had just put his on about a minute before the crash. No one else was on the bridge. Lucky them. So we waited for the cops to come get us and we waited more for one of our parents to come get us. We all fell asleep in the back of the truck we rode home in. Like nothing had happened. It was truly like a dream. You are woken up in a panic then eventually fall back asleep. However, even to this day 15 years later, every time I cross that bridge and see the drain basin that the car came to rest near and and spilled it's guts, all i can think is "that sure was a fun weekend".
I hope that i can provide something interesting, we'll see. I'm not that political, so if you want to hear the great eloquence of a political scientist then forget about it, political ramblings are all heresy anyways. here today, gone tomorrow. Much like the social hot topics like global warming, the invasion of Iraq and the death of Anna Nicole. all three can be summed up in on sentence, you ready? bound to happen. And as far as philosophical diatribes about the origin of man and God...you've already made up your mind.
'so , enough about you, lets talk about me'....i love that line. I remember one time, me and 5 friends were driving home form a skateboarding weekend in another town. It was about 6 in the a.m. on a quiet summer Sunday morn. We were gripped in the lethargic euphoria that comes only after a great weekend of doing what one loves to do. But we were headed back to reality, we almost never made it back. On a straight road the driver fell asleep and smashed into a cement abutment near the entrance to a bridge. I was sleeping in the backseat when i was awoken with the sudden smashing sound of sick metal and glass fracturing and bending frames of chipping paint and shattering plastic. The violence of the collision threw me into the back of the seat in front then sideways into the door. We Hit the cement wall and then spun onto the bridge. Once on the bridge i saw that we were still travelling at a great rate of speed, and spinning and i saw that we were going to hit the railing, we did, then i saw blue sky. I thought we had crashed through the railing. If you were to throw a shopping cart off this bridge it would plummet about 150 feet before landing in a shallow river below. In fact, that is exactly what I thought we were doing. Fortunately i was mistaken. The car just sort of jumped up when it hit the railing and continued to spin wildly down the length of the bridge. It spun about 300 feet further down the bridge before coming to a stop in a steamy smokey heap across both lanes. Oil and radiator fluid seeping out in all directions like a jar of strawberry jam dropped from a fridge door. Or blood from a fatal gunshot wound. None of the doors would open, we climbed out the windows and stared in disbelief. The car had once been a source of so much fun and pride. It was a VW Jetta. Black with factory mags and sunroof. A turbocharged car that ran on diesel and had all the top o' the line features. Not bad for a 18 year old kid back in 1990. It was a great car. Now it was destroyed. No one was hurt aside form cuts and bruises. Nobody was wearing a seat belt except the two in the front. And the passenger had just put his on about a minute before the crash. No one else was on the bridge. Lucky them. So we waited for the cops to come get us and we waited more for one of our parents to come get us. We all fell asleep in the back of the truck we rode home in. Like nothing had happened. It was truly like a dream. You are woken up in a panic then eventually fall back asleep. However, even to this day 15 years later, every time I cross that bridge and see the drain basin that the car came to rest near and and spilled it's guts, all i can think is "that sure was a fun weekend".
Thursday, February 8, 2007
the news of the day
Ok. so i went and looked at my old blog and figured i'd post the link to it. I think it's under onebigfathed, or something like that. It does have a couple good stories if i do say so myself.
In other news; Anna Nicole smith died today, sad. First it was Chris Farley, now her, what is this world coming too.
In other news; Anna Nicole smith died today, sad. First it was Chris Farley, now her, what is this world coming too.
Monday, February 5, 2007
the tales ofUN
So what is, and what are, The Tales ofUN? Well, it's both. It's the Un and the fUN. Like a jeckell and hyde, or Abbott and Costello. Basically, it's me myself and I. I could call it the threeeofus. I could call it anything. I've almost called it a day on this whole thing. I'm not really one to do what everyone is doing. But it seems everyone is doing this, so i throw my hat in the ring. why not.
This blog comes out an unnecessary need to explain the unexplainable. Unfortunately i feel the need to do this. I don't really want to, i don't know how, and honestly, i couldn't care less. Then why you ask? i need to vent somewhere. I guess this is it. Therapy for the world to see. That is of course, if the world is looking. To those who do look; feel free to comment, insult, rebuke, rebuttal, receive, or just plain, revolt. Like i said, i don't care. It is also my attempt to be more vulnerable. More out there and more creative. I feel like a fish in a barrel sometimes. Just swimming around, waiting to get blasted. Maybe this will help me out. Like an online journal. I don't know. why does anyone do this? For friends to see? To be cool? to feel like i have an opinion that somehow might mean something. yeah, probably, if i can be so bold. However, as i get into this i do kinda enjoy it. and i like the fact that i have been able to track down some long ago friends who happen to have blogs as well. i think it's a great way to catch up and leave some dumb comment for them to get annoyed at.
This is my second attempt at having a blog. The first one got lost in the frustrating shuffle b/t the beta and the new version of blogger. The first was called onebigfathed@blogspot.com. or something to that nature. That's probably why i screwed it up. I can't remember for sure. I think it was, anyways, i became very frustrated one night and proceeded to delete the 'new format'. but in the process was and am still unable to access the old blogger. soooo, here i am. If i could get to the old blogger and delete that to, then i would. Then i could put this all behind me and call it a miserably failed experiment. But i can't, so i won't. So this is why i called this one what I called it. The tales ofUN is the ying and yang, the dichotomy of my existence. The expression of my unhappiness towards so many things around me. And as well, the good things that I love will also be represented here. Balance is the key to not falling off the fence. Of which I am a great sitter.
(edit note:) I just re read what I had written here when I started this and realized I was a bit of a psychopath. My original entry was fueled by outrage and disappointment. sadness and frustration. So i erased a bunch of this and am repaving the bumpy road with fresh ashpalt. So all the stuff above is fresh and new. If you have read what i originally wrote, then you'd know that I was miserable then, The comments came out of a need to get things off my chest. I'll be the first person to say that I'm kind of a headcase at times. So if i offended anyone, not so sorry, but i didn't want to hurt any one's feelings. If i did, then sorry. I need to learn some conflict resolution i suppose. I guess i didn't have to erase it, but i thought i would because i'm over it now. The issue has passed. I dealt with it and therefore didn't need to be reminded anymore. It's not that I don't want to be able to vent or be angry and write about it, but I felt i was a little over the top. unnecessary, if you will. Some people know me, maybe this will show them a different side of me. We'll see how it works out. btw, if you know me personally and see me on the street or somewhere and want to challenge me on something i've written, then please do, i welcome the chance to see what is what. And like I said before, leave a comment, whatever, have fUN.
Good night now.
This blog comes out an unnecessary need to explain the unexplainable. Unfortunately i feel the need to do this. I don't really want to, i don't know how, and honestly, i couldn't care less. Then why you ask? i need to vent somewhere. I guess this is it. Therapy for the world to see. That is of course, if the world is looking. To those who do look; feel free to comment, insult, rebuke, rebuttal, receive, or just plain, revolt. Like i said, i don't care. It is also my attempt to be more vulnerable. More out there and more creative. I feel like a fish in a barrel sometimes. Just swimming around, waiting to get blasted. Maybe this will help me out. Like an online journal. I don't know. why does anyone do this? For friends to see? To be cool? to feel like i have an opinion that somehow might mean something. yeah, probably, if i can be so bold. However, as i get into this i do kinda enjoy it. and i like the fact that i have been able to track down some long ago friends who happen to have blogs as well. i think it's a great way to catch up and leave some dumb comment for them to get annoyed at.
This is my second attempt at having a blog. The first one got lost in the frustrating shuffle b/t the beta and the new version of blogger. The first was called onebigfathed@blogspot.com. or something to that nature. That's probably why i screwed it up. I can't remember for sure. I think it was, anyways, i became very frustrated one night and proceeded to delete the 'new format'. but in the process was and am still unable to access the old blogger. soooo, here i am. If i could get to the old blogger and delete that to, then i would. Then i could put this all behind me and call it a miserably failed experiment. But i can't, so i won't. So this is why i called this one what I called it. The tales ofUN is the ying and yang, the dichotomy of my existence. The expression of my unhappiness towards so many things around me. And as well, the good things that I love will also be represented here. Balance is the key to not falling off the fence. Of which I am a great sitter.
(edit note:) I just re read what I had written here when I started this and realized I was a bit of a psychopath. My original entry was fueled by outrage and disappointment. sadness and frustration. So i erased a bunch of this and am repaving the bumpy road with fresh ashpalt. So all the stuff above is fresh and new. If you have read what i originally wrote, then you'd know that I was miserable then, The comments came out of a need to get things off my chest. I'll be the first person to say that I'm kind of a headcase at times. So if i offended anyone, not so sorry, but i didn't want to hurt any one's feelings. If i did, then sorry. I need to learn some conflict resolution i suppose. I guess i didn't have to erase it, but i thought i would because i'm over it now. The issue has passed. I dealt with it and therefore didn't need to be reminded anymore. It's not that I don't want to be able to vent or be angry and write about it, but I felt i was a little over the top. unnecessary, if you will. Some people know me, maybe this will show them a different side of me. We'll see how it works out. btw, if you know me personally and see me on the street or somewhere and want to challenge me on something i've written, then please do, i welcome the chance to see what is what. And like I said before, leave a comment, whatever, have fUN.
Good night now.
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