Ride In 2/19 & Ride Home 2/19: In Search of a New Gimmick

I'm back. I went away for awhile (though not really), thinking that maybe I'd find some other, better stuff to do with my leisure time than write about my bike commute. I did not find that thing because, simply put, there is nothing better to do with one's leisure time than write about one's bike commute. Except maybe more bike riding. Or maybe panning for gold. Because you could use that gold (I'm sure you'd find it) to buy a cool bike and then you could ride that bike to work (you probably wouldn't find enough gold to quit your job) and then write about it on your fancy new computer (assuming there's enough gold left over and gold prices remain favorable) and in your spare time, when you wanted to take a sabbatical from the bike commuter blog that you write on the fancy computer about your rides on the cool new bike bike, you could set up an alternate blog about gold panning if you had the yen to continue to write and not continue to pan. Conversely, you could pan bike blogs, irrespective of whether they're written on fancy computers or about rides on cool new bikes, or you could bike to a pan shop (a panaderia?), which might be an errondonnee category. Very few shops exclusively sells pans (the market has gone to pot) and I imagine even fewer shops sell pans for gold panning, earning them a panning in online reviews and such. Goldpanner would be one the less intimidating James Bond villains. "I've caught you, Mr. Bond, but I'm going to turn my back for a moment and wade into this icy creek now- ACK! [he learned villainy from Cathy apparently] You've shot me. Now I'll never be able launch my world-dominating evil plan to make an insignificant sum from this marginal amount of water-harvested precious metal. Je suis mort." To the best of my knowledge, besting James Bond is not an errandonnee category. Though there really are a lot of rules and I'm not sure I've made it the whole way through. I guess it could be a wild card. A wild card at the CASINO ROYALE [now the camera pans (!) back to reveal this paragraph framed within the view from the inside the barrel of a gun, we hear the shot and the theme music and then the movie begins: James Bond in Sharrows are Forever/License to Bike Commute/GoldenPan/From #bikeDC with Love]

This was an awfully (emphasis on awfully) long run-up with nothing in particular to follow. I still haven't really figured out a new conceit (emphasis on conceit) and while I could tell you about my routes and the happenings of both rides with the usual level of mind-numbing detail, I oughtn't. Maybe tomorrow. I did see a guy today fail to unclip from his pedal while waiting at a red light and I watched him lose his balance, begin to tip over, continue to tip over and finally end up on the group, "trapped" underneath the non-drive side of his bike. This was at the very peopled intersection of 15th and Eye, NW. I have previously been the guy who has fallen, but I've never seen it happen. I've been pretty shit-eating about my falls (because, honestly, whatever, right?) and this guy was pretty cool with his own comedownance (neologism!)- "new cleat!" he said, all smiles, after he got back up, unfazed- and I encourage others who have had (or someday might have) this misfortune befall (!) them to adopt the same attitude. But the thing I didn't know from never seeing it happen before is how fucking hilarious it is to see someone slowly tip over and fall down. Honestly, bike commuters are like the clowns of the streetscape. We can bring so much joy. Let us bring joy. Let everyone else be serious and self-serious. They can have it. We have bikes and slow-motion falling down and that's so much better.