There will be an interruption in your B-Log service. Last night while I was dumping pictures from some memory my computer screen went blue in a shade I had never seen before. The white letters of HTML jumble flew across, then in English: Your system will fail and your disk will collapse in 70 seconds. Just as my brain registered what I was reading the countdown from 70 seconds started. At Zero seconds the light collapsed on itself and I lost my operating system but not my life. Weird, I feel as if I have been AI'd by a higher power that determined with artificial intelligence that my risk score was now well over the average American's so my art was squashed electronically. Oh well. I did do a system back up last week which is good news as for the safety of some images. The machine is under warranty so perhaps after a pain in the ass I may get it back. Until then I will continue living as I hope you do.
Theoretical causes to this cyber assault and battery will follow.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Charlotte Installed Bike Rax
My fly ride sandwiched betwixt 2 gas burners.
Once upon a time, not so long ago before the 2001 Unibiker initiated Charlotte Critical Mass that changed the game there were no public Bike Racks in town. Okay, maybe there was one at the Post Office thanks to JC's letter to the Uptoon Post Master, however that was a single example not city wide policy as it is now thanks to the awareness that the UB brought to Charlotte's City Council on that cold'ish December night in 01. I was there, I saw the satellite up links feeding the scene into the Government Center, the local news 'reporters' doing what they do in front of the lights, the mobile police command unit, the under cover cops trying desperately to blend in with the 34 or so bike friendly folk and the over all affect that it had on this tin can town. The 'News' of the ride rallying on the Square leaked 2 weeks before the big day which worried the non bike culture of this fine city. Do the Math: 34 people(who ride bikes attending the Critical Mass) minus 684,327 who would rather put gas in their car equals 684,283 humans asking me questions about the impact that such a Mass will have on the city in the days leading up to the event. As that day got closer, the city's fear grew. It was written all over their faces in the elevator as I went on with my daily work schedule. The helmet on my head was a dead give away, I was one of the out numbered 34.
That was the last 'CM' I ever rode in because it was the only one that could have possibly had meaning. What a night it was, including delicious beer with friends.
Anyway, shortly after the event City Council decided to make a Bike Plan which started by hiring Steve Hancock from Arizona to be the first ever Bike Coordinator for the City. This guy was the man, a veteran coordinator with years of experience and the kindness to introduce himself to all 5 of us couriers within the first few weeks he was on the job. He wanted to know the scoop and he knew we cold help. The City also approved some immediate and future monies needed to help implement the bike friendly plan. Then there were bike committees of normal bike humans that formed to help guide the planner and his very small staff(1 other person). Over the past 8 years or so the city has given a valiant effort to bring the Jar up to speed on its Bike Friendliness but some serious issues still persist.
For Example: Pocket Rockets, Scooters and other mini gas burners are clogging up the public bike racks outnumbering or at least equaling the pedal machines.
Once upon a time, not so long ago before the 2001 Unibiker initiated Charlotte Critical Mass that changed the game there were no public Bike Racks in town. Okay, maybe there was one at the Post Office thanks to JC's letter to the Uptoon Post Master, however that was a single example not city wide policy as it is now thanks to the awareness that the UB brought to Charlotte's City Council on that cold'ish December night in 01. I was there, I saw the satellite up links feeding the scene into the Government Center, the local news 'reporters' doing what they do in front of the lights, the mobile police command unit, the under cover cops trying desperately to blend in with the 34 or so bike friendly folk and the over all affect that it had on this tin can town. The 'News' of the ride rallying on the Square leaked 2 weeks before the big day which worried the non bike culture of this fine city. Do the Math: 34 people(who ride bikes attending the Critical Mass) minus 684,327 who would rather put gas in their car equals 684,283 humans asking me questions about the impact that such a Mass will have on the city in the days leading up to the event. As that day got closer, the city's fear grew. It was written all over their faces in the elevator as I went on with my daily work schedule. The helmet on my head was a dead give away, I was one of the out numbered 34.That was the last 'CM' I ever rode in because it was the only one that could have possibly had meaning. What a night it was, including delicious beer with friends.
Anyway, shortly after the event City Council decided to make a Bike Plan which started by hiring Steve Hancock from Arizona to be the first ever Bike Coordinator for the City. This guy was the man, a veteran coordinator with years of experience and the kindness to introduce himself to all 5 of us couriers within the first few weeks he was on the job. He wanted to know the scoop and he knew we cold help. The City also approved some immediate and future monies needed to help implement the bike friendly plan. Then there were bike committees of normal bike humans that formed to help guide the planner and his very small staff(1 other person). Over the past 8 years or so the city has given a valiant effort to bring the Jar up to speed on its Bike Friendliness but some serious issues still persist.
For Example: Pocket Rockets, Scooters and other mini gas burners are clogging up the public bike racks outnumbering or at least equaling the pedal machines.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Land of Brave Weapons-My Self Initiated Rendition
In case you were wondering I did not take this picture, I found it on the net. I would credit the photographer but it was a nameless drone. Seriously, look at every detail of this image.
It has been recently suggested to me that because of my attitude towards the end result of my Federal Tax share going to support Blind War Planes that I should pack my bags and move. I mean with no eyes how in the hell can this vehicle accurately deploy those under wing side mounted missiles of small mass destruction in hostile territory, Pakistan, Yemen or pretty much anywhere in the Middle East, Africa or who knows where? They cannot which is why so many innocent people die as a result. Sometimes those killed leave behind relatives who survive them creating images that haunt me for I am here helping pay for it while I watch the toon get by daily very much oblivious.
The present situation is Global, life is not better in any of the not so 192 United Nations or the cream of the crop top 26 NATO Nations. It is all the same desperate toonery. I do not want to go any place like this where I will not be able to understand the questions about why it is so hot when the Corporate Plan of Aggression finally catches up to itself. That leaves left the places that I would constantly be looking up into the sky for the Blind Death flights being driven from Washingtoon, Qatar, off shore on an AirCraft Carrier, Munich(Munchen) or the Hilton in West Palm to go flying by over my head and release my punishment for thinking about the consequences of a Nation's actions. No Sir and or Ma'am. I would rather walk towards it every day with my eyes wide open and my physical body going through space and time under my own power where I will be able to look at it, think about it and see its place in my life. When I sit in a chair outside facing east in the direction of the spin perfectly still not blinking, I realize that I am 4,000 miles from the center of the earth on the outside of a tree and toon covered pin wheel that is moving not only on axis but orbit and outward cosmic expansion as well. That one brilliant idea makes me realize how happy I actually am no matter the perceptions or pride of any other person being spun with me. I laugh regularly and it is real. The few people around me against the 6.8'ish billion(I do not know the math but somehow I understand the doubling factor) that I call friends and family laugh hard too. Unless they are able to go to Jupiter with me there is no chance that I will miss whatever goes down in this fine Nation. I may get out of here one more time in the near future for some sort of physical challenge landscape transfer but at the rate of the spin that may soon become impossible.
It has been recently suggested to me that because of my attitude towards the end result of my Federal Tax share going to support Blind War Planes that I should pack my bags and move. I mean with no eyes how in the hell can this vehicle accurately deploy those under wing side mounted missiles of small mass destruction in hostile territory, Pakistan, Yemen or pretty much anywhere in the Middle East, Africa or who knows where? They cannot which is why so many innocent people die as a result. Sometimes those killed leave behind relatives who survive them creating images that haunt me for I am here helping pay for it while I watch the toon get by daily very much oblivious.The present situation is Global, life is not better in any of the not so 192 United Nations or the cream of the crop top 26 NATO Nations. It is all the same desperate toonery. I do not want to go any place like this where I will not be able to understand the questions about why it is so hot when the Corporate Plan of Aggression finally catches up to itself. That leaves left the places that I would constantly be looking up into the sky for the Blind Death flights being driven from Washingtoon, Qatar, off shore on an AirCraft Carrier, Munich(Munchen) or the Hilton in West Palm to go flying by over my head and release my punishment for thinking about the consequences of a Nation's actions. No Sir and or Ma'am. I would rather walk towards it every day with my eyes wide open and my physical body going through space and time under my own power where I will be able to look at it, think about it and see its place in my life. When I sit in a chair outside facing east in the direction of the spin perfectly still not blinking, I realize that I am 4,000 miles from the center of the earth on the outside of a tree and toon covered pin wheel that is moving not only on axis but orbit and outward cosmic expansion as well. That one brilliant idea makes me realize how happy I actually am no matter the perceptions or pride of any other person being spun with me. I laugh regularly and it is real. The few people around me against the 6.8'ish billion(I do not know the math but somehow I understand the doubling factor) that I call friends and family laugh hard too. Unless they are able to go to Jupiter with me there is no chance that I will miss whatever goes down in this fine Nation. I may get out of here one more time in the near future for some sort of physical challenge landscape transfer but at the rate of the spin that may soon become impossible.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Bike Courier Lunch
I completely apologize for my absence yesterday and the lame lyrical reference in the last post. I was too busy pulling the apathetic 13 million dollar Tomahawk Missile from out of my core Chakras that was delivered when I attempted to pick up my kid at the airport Monday evening. She had been in Connecticut for a week visiting my family and was flying solo under the 100$ extra care each way of USAir. When I arrived at the Jar International Airport to pick her up because St Lissa was working the late schedule I was told by a lack of Supervisor that my name was not on the pick up list, only St Lissa's was. She took my passport behind the wall and returned with a frown saying that there was 'nothing' she could do. I looked for her eyes but she would not give them to me as I explained that what she was saying was not true. She waved her marginalized hand body and soul as I told her the truth to her back which was walking away. Skip the comas they are not perceived by this about to pop culture. St Lissa had to leave work in an emergency and get down right away to scoop Ms. Arcen. Maybe the bank will cut their losses and fire her with the rationalization that she did have to leave work an hour early pick up her daughter. We can only hope that happens so we can be one step closer to defectin, that's right defictin. Ms. Arcen is now home safe and I am somewhat over the experience of having guns, bullets and kevlar separating me from the one I love right here in the Jar.Let the Tripe continue! What a great word, I never knew that it had two meanings. People ask me all the time about my job as a bicycle messenger and sometimes they actually seem genuine. What do you do when it rains? How many miles a day do you ride? Have you ever been hit by a car? Do you make good money? What is the weather like? Do you go to the gym at night? How far away from town do you ride? Where did you get that bag? How many bikes do you have? What kind of bike do you ride for work? How much did that helmet cost? Do those sandals have cleats? How do I get calves like that? I bet you are in good shape, aren't you? Questions like these by random bucketry repeat themselves constantly all the time.
What do you eat for lunch? Well let me tell you. Yesterday I had 2 pieces of whole wheat not toonfood bread, 2 slices of yellow Amerian Empire Cheese and a beautiful big Red tomato that I had pulled out of the garden the night before. I carried the lot in my trusty messenger bag until after my noon schedule. Then I found an empty bench and under the watchful eye of the CMPD I sliced the tomato for a sandwich that actually had flavor, real tomato taste and texture. It was the best sammy I have had in weeks and I fixed it on the same bench that the homeless use to nap.
Important B(for Billy)-Log News: Thanks to GhostRyder I now have 19 followers on my side bar which puts me one past The Ghost of Jerry Reed! Woo-Hoo, I have been waiting for this day since I realized such an important gadget existed. You are now in the rear view GJR how does my back look? I honestly thank all of you 19 folks that have taken the time to follow these useless thoughts, ramblings and pictures. If you have not already please follow me today!
Stage 5 Tour de France news: Tom 'Boom Boom' Boonen flatted, not once but twice! In a show of defiance the French cycling hero Little Tommy Voekler kept away the astute Dutchman and everyone else to take the stage win. This little fella has been fun to watch since 2002, always trying hard towards the front and even in the yellow but he had never won a stage in the Tour until yesterday. Voekler's 122mile win was really beautiful to see.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Carnival
the colors fly
and the wheels spin,
through out the heart
red wine that punctures the skin
face to face
in a dry and waterless place
walk on by, walk on through
walk till you run
and don't look back
for here, I am
tonight
and the wheels spin,
through out the heart
red wine that punctures the skin
face to face
in a dry and waterless place
walk on by, walk on through
walk till you run
and don't look back
for here, I am
tonight
Monday, July 6, 2009
Hi Doll- Mt. Mitchell Transfer
Mt. Mitchell 6,684ft
Highest Point East of the M-i crick a letta, crick a letta-i, crick a letta, crick a letta-i, hump back, hump back-i River.
That's Mississippi to all y'all city folk.
This high place has had a significant pastoral meaning to me since I first saw it in 1993. Since then I have been may times including plenty of day hikes and camps to both the north and south trails which are some of the steepest and most technically varied in the east. I have walked up in the winter from Burnsville NC, the north approach with Timmy, Domras(who convinced me to go winter climb Mt Washington in NH two Februaries ago) and Wilkes. I have even ridden my road bike from here in the Jar(Charlotte NC)138miles there with tons of climb 3 times since 2000, once solo and twice with friends who thought it was a great ride indeed. The way this mountain and its ridge feels is unique to anything I have experienced in North America. The geological make up can only be found in the Canadian Rockies which I do hope to see and experience one day.
All the reasons above are why I asked Hi Doll and St. Lissa to go up this past Friday for a day trip. Meet Hi Doll, also known by her birth name as Alma Keck. Hi Doll was born in April of 1918 in Little Rock Arkansas and is St Lissa's Grandmother as well Ms. Arcen's Great. She has told me some interesting stories about living on a farm as a young kid in Pascagoula during the Great Depression. Till this day straight through the now Hi Doll who is 91 years something just short of a crack out still works 30-40hrs a week depending on the schedule. If you are wondering what her livity consists of she is the bread lady at a local branch of a regional cafeteria style restaurant. So, compared to me or anyone else I know she is a complete bad ass who stands on her feet in 8hr shifts while serving the masses what they desire with her stainless tongs that she treats with a silk wrap daily.
Alma 'Go' Keck was ready relatively early and the three of us plus Zoo Zoo the Crayon Eater headed out west and north. The car drive was mundane until we exited I-40 into the little town of Old Fort NC. Through the classic downtown style main street USA and then left onto Curtis Creek Road for the climb up to the Blue Ridge Parkway. For those of you unfamiliar Curtis Creek Rd starts as asphalt then turns into crushed gravel fire road for 9 twisty miles all the way up through the rhododendrons to the parkway. It may have been awhile since Hi Doll in the shot gun position had seen such a road, she kept giggling and asking me if I was sure I knew where we were. "Ohhhh Lordy...", with a high pitched laugh that sounded like, "Hoo, hoooo, heeee, hooo" as we rounded the corner on a narrow little bridge over the clean creek. We stopped at the spring and filled a bottle with mountain water that tasted clear and very cold. Just at the last pitch before reaching the BRP we passed a 'solo' mountain biker who was wearing green, I yelled happiness to him through the open window. Left on the Park Way. We stopped at one overlook to make some pictures where Nathan and Jordy hung out with the hippies on a Heartbreak Ridge Mountain Ride past. Continue on the BRP south to the Mt. Mitchell State Park entrance which is a splendid climb indeed. Hi Doll was blown away by the vistas and the way that the 59F air felt on her face. It was 89F when we left the Jar some 3hrs plus ago.
After parking the car St Lissa took Hi Doll to freshen up in the State Park accessible facilities. I took Zula for a walk around the cone and met some fine folks including Mr. & Mrs. Santa Clause in the saturated blue sky. The climb to the summit is 286 yards upwards which is easy from here if you are less than lets say 91 years old but if you are then you need all the help you can get to see the panorama. As crazy as this sounds but as true as it is my intuition had me stop a State Ranger who walked by while I was chatting with with Santa and his wife as I held Zoo on lead. As soon as I looked into his mustache, I mean eyes I realized that I recognized him as the State Ranger who called the Federal one on Jordy, Nathan and I on the same Heart Break ride as I mentioned above. Anyways, he recognized me not as I looked straight into his soul and asked, "Do you have a wheel chair that I can use to push a 91 year old woman up to the tower?" He said, "No" but in a friendly tone let me know that park associate Mike would be happy to drive her up in 'The Mule' if I were willing to sign a waiver for her.
As they came back from freshening up Hi Doll sat on a little bench next to a little old lady that was 26 years younger than she was. St Lissa came over and let me know that she did not think it was a good idea to take Hi-Doll up to the summit tower. I smiled real big and said, "I have hooked her up with a mule ride from the Ranger", "That woman is not getting on a mule", St Lissa retorted. No, no, not that kind of Mule, a Kawasaki Mule. I signed the waiver and the two ladies mounted the Mule while I ran ahead to get in a good spot for picture making. Mike brilliantly maneuvered the Mule to the base of Dr. Mitchell's grave. That left a 20m sloping path to the summit tower, a chip shot for this lady who has been through more than we could ever understand. Amazing to see, not the view for me which I have taken in all seasons but the way that I saw Hi-Doll accept the panoramic view. Some of the clouds were even with our altitude giving them a linear appearance and some passed over just a few hundred feet above our heads. We spent about 25minutes on top of this High Place and then Mike drove the ladies down. I once again ran ahead trying to document what was really happening amongst all the other toon folk.
Hi Doll and St Lissa on the marker.
Cattail Peak
Headed down on the mule.
The day ended with a beautiful Blue Ridge Drive up to NC80 and the drop down to Marion and eventually the flat lands of Charlotte. What a magnificent day indeed. Not much physical transfer that I am used to when going to the mountains but plenty of inner body emotional real to keep me paying attention. Hi Doll told me that she wants to go again soon, I may have to give her the full on Wilson Creek, Mortimer, Yancey Ridge and Roseboro Rd Transfer before the end of the summer.
Highest Point East of the M-i crick a letta, crick a letta-i, crick a letta, crick a letta-i, hump back, hump back-i River.
That's Mississippi to all y'all city folk.
This high place has had a significant pastoral meaning to me since I first saw it in 1993. Since then I have been may times including plenty of day hikes and camps to both the north and south trails which are some of the steepest and most technically varied in the east. I have walked up in the winter from Burnsville NC, the north approach with Timmy, Domras(who convinced me to go winter climb Mt Washington in NH two Februaries ago) and Wilkes. I have even ridden my road bike from here in the Jar(Charlotte NC)138miles there with tons of climb 3 times since 2000, once solo and twice with friends who thought it was a great ride indeed. The way this mountain and its ridge feels is unique to anything I have experienced in North America. The geological make up can only be found in the Canadian Rockies which I do hope to see and experience one day.
All the reasons above are why I asked Hi Doll and St. Lissa to go up this past Friday for a day trip. Meet Hi Doll, also known by her birth name as Alma Keck. Hi Doll was born in April of 1918 in Little Rock Arkansas and is St Lissa's Grandmother as well Ms. Arcen's Great. She has told me some interesting stories about living on a farm as a young kid in Pascagoula during the Great Depression. Till this day straight through the now Hi Doll who is 91 years something just short of a crack out still works 30-40hrs a week depending on the schedule. If you are wondering what her livity consists of she is the bread lady at a local branch of a regional cafeteria style restaurant. So, compared to me or anyone else I know she is a complete bad ass who stands on her feet in 8hr shifts while serving the masses what they desire with her stainless tongs that she treats with a silk wrap daily.
Alma 'Go' Keck was ready relatively early and the three of us plus Zoo Zoo the Crayon Eater headed out west and north. The car drive was mundane until we exited I-40 into the little town of Old Fort NC. Through the classic downtown style main street USA and then left onto Curtis Creek Road for the climb up to the Blue Ridge Parkway. For those of you unfamiliar Curtis Creek Rd starts as asphalt then turns into crushed gravel fire road for 9 twisty miles all the way up through the rhododendrons to the parkway. It may have been awhile since Hi Doll in the shot gun position had seen such a road, she kept giggling and asking me if I was sure I knew where we were. "Ohhhh Lordy...", with a high pitched laugh that sounded like, "Hoo, hoooo, heeee, hooo" as we rounded the corner on a narrow little bridge over the clean creek. We stopped at the spring and filled a bottle with mountain water that tasted clear and very cold. Just at the last pitch before reaching the BRP we passed a 'solo' mountain biker who was wearing green, I yelled happiness to him through the open window. Left on the Park Way. We stopped at one overlook to make some pictures where Nathan and Jordy hung out with the hippies on a Heartbreak Ridge Mountain Ride past. Continue on the BRP south to the Mt. Mitchell State Park entrance which is a splendid climb indeed. Hi Doll was blown away by the vistas and the way that the 59F air felt on her face. It was 89F when we left the Jar some 3hrs plus ago.
After parking the car St Lissa took Hi Doll to freshen up in the State Park accessible facilities. I took Zula for a walk around the cone and met some fine folks including Mr. & Mrs. Santa Clause in the saturated blue sky. The climb to the summit is 286 yards upwards which is easy from here if you are less than lets say 91 years old but if you are then you need all the help you can get to see the panorama. As crazy as this sounds but as true as it is my intuition had me stop a State Ranger who walked by while I was chatting with with Santa and his wife as I held Zoo on lead. As soon as I looked into his mustache, I mean eyes I realized that I recognized him as the State Ranger who called the Federal one on Jordy, Nathan and I on the same Heart Break ride as I mentioned above. Anyways, he recognized me not as I looked straight into his soul and asked, "Do you have a wheel chair that I can use to push a 91 year old woman up to the tower?" He said, "No" but in a friendly tone let me know that park associate Mike would be happy to drive her up in 'The Mule' if I were willing to sign a waiver for her.As they came back from freshening up Hi Doll sat on a little bench next to a little old lady that was 26 years younger than she was. St Lissa came over and let me know that she did not think it was a good idea to take Hi-Doll up to the summit tower. I smiled real big and said, "I have hooked her up with a mule ride from the Ranger", "That woman is not getting on a mule", St Lissa retorted. No, no, not that kind of Mule, a Kawasaki Mule. I signed the waiver and the two ladies mounted the Mule while I ran ahead to get in a good spot for picture making. Mike brilliantly maneuvered the Mule to the base of Dr. Mitchell's grave. That left a 20m sloping path to the summit tower, a chip shot for this lady who has been through more than we could ever understand. Amazing to see, not the view for me which I have taken in all seasons but the way that I saw Hi-Doll accept the panoramic view. Some of the clouds were even with our altitude giving them a linear appearance and some passed over just a few hundred feet above our heads. We spent about 25minutes on top of this High Place and then Mike drove the ladies down. I once again ran ahead trying to document what was really happening amongst all the other toon folk.
Hi Doll and St Lissa on the marker.
Cattail Peak
Headed down on the mule.
The day ended with a beautiful Blue Ridge Drive up to NC80 and the drop down to Marion and eventually the flat lands of Charlotte. What a magnificent day indeed. Not much physical transfer that I am used to when going to the mountains but plenty of inner body emotional real to keep me paying attention. Hi Doll told me that she wants to go again soon, I may have to give her the full on Wilson Creek, Mortimer, Yancey Ridge and Roseboro Rd Transfer before the end of the summer.Hi Doll & Mike sharing a grin.
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