I've done it before, shouldn't be a big deal. It's just been awhile. That's all. But the layoff can do things to your mind. I know people who for insane distances, who sport the body hugging ensembles for their 60 mile jaunts. I respect those people. They battle terrific elements in conquering sometimes unforgiving surroundings. I am not one of those people. I've been riding a bike casually since I moved into the city, but a combination of age, stupidty and other factors had me off last summer. I don't go for distance or speed past anybody. I like it for the sake of the fresh air and what not.

But a cool windy day seemed as good as any for the Irish Great Gazoo (check out the helmet) to turn a simple run to the bank into a primer of getting reoriented again to riding into the city, where more car, bus, motorcycle, scooter and pedestrian traffic spends more time staring at their phones then watching out for one another.



Toughest task for an apartment dweller is getting the bike out of the basement. That being done, a little stretch for this short cruise and away we went. Elmwood Ave on a Saturday isn't jammed with traffic as you get closer to Allentown, but traveling down the incline on Utica into the lake breeze makes you think this will be no problem coming back as you keep an eye for any bumps in the road that could turn the bike seat into a surgical instrument. A turn onto Elmwood heading downtown and I hear Sean Connery's voice from the Untouchables in my head: "Everybody's gotta die of something," and I hit the actual bike lane. You get reacclimated and it starts to feel good. It's like the old pool warning "C'mon in, once you get used to it, the traffic's fine."

And you remember to keep your wits about you and all's good. How those folks travel with the ear buds in, I'll never know. I get down to City Hall for my errand in decent time, take care of business, and because there is part of me who apparently has a little self loathing going on, the new paving job of Niagara Square proves tempting. So, I and a large assortment of cars hit it. A brief moment of "what the hell was I thinking" and I'm 3/4 of the way around the traffic circle of the damned and on Delware headed back to my place. Remember in the last paragraph where I said the wind would be no big deal on the way back, well, dear reader, in the short time frame that transpired, our lovely Western New York winds shifted a bit. Great! Terrific! Fantabulous!

I take the hill that is Delaware and make it back still able to speak English like it is my mother tongue. So, that will have to settle for today's big accomplishment.

I have to go back to the site of my errand, by I think I'll take the car.

My rock star coworker greets Monday

Guess I've been posting for awhile. When I first joined estrip, the young guitarist in the picture was six, today he was the lead vocalist on "we are young" in front of a few hundred folk at the UU church. it was incredibly cool to see him so cool at the mic. Rock on, number one son

nice day to catch a few rays

Ah, construction season, nothing brings out imagined importance in Western New York. We all start driving like cats that can't remember what room they want to be. I was reminded of this driving into a traffic jam on Elmwood Ave. on the way home. The left lane was getting funneled into the right. I swung into the left and immediately put my signal on to creep to the right lane without being too much of a jerk. There wasn't much point in proceeding too far in the left as you mostly had signs in front of you. I dared to let a few car lengths open up in the pointless lane and the minivan behind me went apoplectic. I saw a little space in the right lane and gunned my little buzzbox safely into it. Minivan is still having an anuerysm while missing other chances to move over.

Comedic relief further came from a jaguar of all things. The driver didn't care about all the warnings and just came down the left lane and figured his spot would magically appear because his was a nice car. Not so, my well-financed friend. Your affluence doesn't excuse you reading all the warnings the rest of us enjoyed. Because I know I'm a bit of jerk, I hung him out to dry. Because he is a bigger jerk, so did the next three cars. This made me laugh for the next two blocks.

George Carlin was right: "Nobody is driving MY speed." It's funny where the brain goes. I remember the rush of excitement when my 78 Mustang overtook a Porsche on Main Street, mostly because I had a considerable head start. I suppose it is one of those things keeping me from biking to work. As much as you worry about the people who step off the curb texting (my kids have all be threatened), the real bikers, and the wacky pedestrians (you know the ones, the folks who bolt into the street, assuming the Heisman trophy pose to ensure their safety.) we could all stand to chill.