It is crucially important for my future biographers to know that on the night of the fifth day of the seven month of this year, I sang to myself the words "nose your saddl'up" to the tune of "Get Up, Stand Up" as I was biking down the sidewalk parallel to Nebraska Avenue on the west side of Nebraska Avenue. I've yet to 'nose' my saddle up. Both of these facts, I'm sure, provide insightful commentary that will be very useful in constructing the themes needed to make my biography (which, as a historically relevant genre, according to some, was resuscitated by Peter Brown with his 1968 masterpiece Augustine of Hippo) palatable to a mass audience.
Where does one go after that paragraph? If you were blogging this ride, would you just stop there? I'm tempted, but I'll press on because there are other "important" revelations I'm sure I'll render. Like, it was ass hot (I'm using ass in it's nonexistent adverbial sense to indicate "very, in a negative way") and the air was unpleasant to breath. This whole weather pattern has really made me think a lot about climate change and our reaction to climate change and how the widespread use of climate-changing technology (like air conditioning) has perhaps dulled our collective connection to the environment, leading to our mastery of it and therefore our apathy to it. When you go home air conditioned house to air conditioned car to air conditioned office and then in the reverse, the drama of the weather is pretty much reduced and without the sensory overload of the overbearing heat, it's easy to abstract hotness. "Abstract Hotness" is also the title of my paper on Les Demoiselles d'Avignon.
At what temperatures do tires melt?
Mass to Q. At Dupont, the brass band played what I suspect to be the theme of Masterpiece Theater. It was odd. Or maybe it was the song to which British royals walk down the aisle. Perhaps it's both. If there was a show about fancy barbecue tongs, it'd be called KC Masterpiece Theater.
There are bike tourists and there are segway tourists and the bike tourists look vastly more comfortable and like they are having a better time. I guess this is because not everyone learns to ride a segway when they're a little kid. Not yet at least.
Along East Capitol, I saw a car with the license plate ICEDOGS and a Mitt 2012 sticker. I don't know what an ice dog is, but it's entirely unsurprising to me that someone who affiliates himself with them also supports Romney. I bet an ice dog is expensive. It might even require dressage. I like to order my dressage on the side.
Some police hullabaloo near Lincoln Park. When it comes to police hullabaloo, the last place I'd want to be is trapped in a car. You're just stuck. At least you have a radio. And a GPS to tell you where you're stuck. I biked around and was home soon thereafter. I ended up going back out to the store to buy some kale and resisted to the urge to buy a commemorative TomKat "they finally divorced" glossy magazine.
Remember to log your miles to the 2 mile challenge. Let's make WABA some more money. They need 10,000 rides and while I'd be flattered if you thought so, I can't do it all by myself.