One of the weird things about being a biker is how casually you begin to accept frequent danger. I don't mean the danger of getting in a crash - that's an understandable danger, something that you can control by biking carefully, taking your lane, keeping your brakes tuned, and wearing bright clothes/lights. It's the uncontrollable dangers that occasionally wake me at night.

Last night, I was biking home from looking at my new place (more on this later). It was dusk, which is a dangerous time to be biking. I was riding fast but carefully. Though I was wearing all black, I had front and back lights on my bike, both with fresh batteries. I was riding south on Memorial, a 5 lane road with a central turning lane. I saw a green light at the intersection ahead. The road was deserted except for a car at the intersection's turn lane waiting to take a left. I was a good two blocks away and they had plenty of time to turn before I arrived at the intersection, but they didn't turn. I got closer and I could see the driver, a young black man* looking at me and joking to his laughing friends. The car remained still, and I preceded through the intersection. I was watching the driver, I saw him shift his hands on the steering wheel, I swerved, he shouted something, I took a fast curve into the opposite side of the road, just barely missing his car as he drove through the intersection aimed at where I had been a half second ago. He shouted after me as his car screeched off. I am absolutely sure he was either trying to hit me or at least force me to jump off my bike.

That's what I was thinking about while I tried to sleep this morning. Biking is not a dangerous mode of transportation. Drivers make it dangerous by throwing drinks at cyclists, merging into our paths to "teach us a lesson," nudging the back wheels of our bikes, honking as they pass us, shooting darts/arrows/bb's at us, and driving full speed through crowds of racers**. You people make me too frightened to sleep. You people make the decision to use a bike as my primary form of transportation a question of survival, rather then one of economic or environmental impact.

That's why I didn't sleep last night.


* I mention the driver's race/age because I've found them to be a lethal combination in Atlanta. The first time I was deliberately knocked from my bike was when a black teenager jumped into the street in front of me and punched my shoulder (when he ran, his friends did stay and help me clean the blood off my hands and shoulders/side). I've had stuff (rocks, full drinks, bags of trash) thrown at me 6 times, and 5 of those times the attackers were young black men. I'm sad that the response I've learned from all this is to be immediately more cautious when I see a black teen driving near me.

A caveat: when the attack is non-physical (being called a faggot, horns honked, told to "get my ass off the road") then chances are it's a young male of any race.


** These are all things that have happened to cyclists. The dart, arrow, and bb gun attacks have happened several times in many states, though I've never been victim of one.

Last year I hosted a Quebecois couchsurfer for a few days. We had a great time hanging out, and we've been keeping up a little bit through facebook in the months since he moved back to Canada. I just got this message from him a few minutes ago. It means a lot to me, and I think y'all will be inspired by reading it:

Hey! I'm the guy who was couchsurfing at your place a year ago, in case you don't remember some of your facebook friends (something that happens to me often...). I was filming a movie on the elections and the racial problems in the United-States. You invited me to cook some food for the homeless, and the next day, I rode your mother's bike with you through the coolest critical mass ever. These are good memories. The more I think about it, the more I realized that my stay in Atlanta has guided my life for the ending of 2008 and almost all 2009.

After staying at your place, I had a different view of homeless people, having met them in Atlanta. That view was later to be completed by another couch-host that I met later on. But I want to concentrate on some of the details. You told me that getting around the city is way easier on a bike. We arrived late to the critical mass, but yet we went on that crazy chase throught Atlanta to find the mass of cyclists. I was not in shape, I was trying to keep up with you and the other cute girl. When we finally joined the mass, I discovered how cool it was to cycle in the city and I discovered the power of being a cyclist vs driving a car. After, we ended up in that little bar, we met back with the cute girl and some mexican guy, and I had to much to drink. But it was good. At the end, I made it in time for my bus and went to my next destination, Miami, which was boring as hell compared to what I lived in Atlanta.

All the way throught the end of my trip, I kept in mind that a bike was the best way to go around a city. I ended my trip in Vancouver. There, I bought a bike (an old seventies girl's cruiser!), found a job and an appartment and lived some of the best 5 months of my life. I rode in the critical mass over there and it was awesome. It was no surprise that after a month in Vancouver, I decided I was going to ride back home to Ottawa. 4000 kilometers of riding throught mountains, plains (with horrible head wind!), and the hills of Ontario. My goal was to get back home while seeing my country.

That was probably the most challenging feat I have done in my entire life. The mountains where terrible, the head wind was nasty but the worst were those rainy days in the hills of the north of Lake Superior. All in all, I arrived in time for my mother's birthday on the 29th of july, and everybody was very happy.

I am now studiying in cinematography in Montreal. I ride my bike everyday. I even became a bike courrier for a week, but decided to quit. Not that it was hard, on the contrary : it was too easy and they were not giving me enough calls, so it wasn't paying much at all. But I'm gonna keep biking all through the "terrible" Canadian winter. I also have plans to finish my trip across Canada with my father next summer. Since me and my father were not very close in the pass few years, this could help to bring back a good and more intimate relationship between the two of us.

And it all started with your intervention. It's amazing how people can just set your life on a new course. Perhaps you had no idea of all this, and you think you didn't do much, but Atlanta was the beginning. I want to thank you for what you have done.

Xavier

P.S. By the way, I'm in an awesome shape right now. I could take you on anytime :P
P.S.S. Whenever you feel like visiting your north neighbour and freezing your ass off, give me a sign, my door will always be open.

Addendum: I've been looking through my livejournal history for stuff I wrote about Xavier's visit, but the only entry I can find is this one.

Critical Mass is coming up this Friday. coathangrrr  writes:

I'll see y'all at the ATL Black History Alleycat and Tall Bike Joust next weekend, corner of Auburn and Hilliard.

I guess, if you like The Killers, last night's concert was really good.  For me it was mainly very loud and very bright.  That's the first big arena concert I've ever been to (looked up tickets just before going - the section behind mine was selling for $138!!!), so it was fun to see a different sort of crowd and attitude among attendees.

Critical Mass just before the concert was fantastic and hilarious.  I lead the whole mass on this really twisty path through Atlantic Station's parking deck.  200 bikers, all shouting and honking, "happy friday!" echoing through all four parking levels.  It was really great.  Looking back at the mass, I was blinded by some of the biggest smiles I've seen this winter.

Ah!

And then stopping by the haveyouheard studios, where we were recording Adron.  She's just fantastic.  Sings a heavily tropicalia influenced singer/songwriter deal*.  Learned Portugeuse just so she could cover her favorite songs.  Great voice AND fantastic song writing+composition.  I basically lost my shit every time she opened her mouth.

Now I'm sitting outside barefoot in the sun, eating my neighbor's wireless and letting my solar batteries recharge.  And listening to Adron's myspace.

* listen to Bicicleta.

My grandpa (on my mother's side) is in the hospital again.  He's been sick so long that I was surprised to learn he wasn't already in the hospital.  He's at that age where being sick becomes the default.

(Old people are sick, teenagers are angsty, twenty-somethings are self-absorbed, and I don't know what stereotypes apply for the points inbetween.)

But.  I'm getting ready for Thanksgiving Critical Mass, which is rumored to be the craziest of the year, as this is the one that tends to try stunts like taking over highways or doing loops around the city's busiest malls during Black Friday.  It should be fun, but I'm predicting either a few arrests or a crash.

After that, I'm going to try and see as many art galleries as I can find for about an hour and a half - I'm looking for something interesting to review for that 1000 word job, which is due on the 8th.

I think Buy Nothing Day is the most asinine thing I've ever heard of.  A surprising number of the causes Adbusters adopts are insultingly stupid, but those black spot sneakers and Buy Nothing Day are two of the worst.  Maybe tonight I will celebrate Buy Nothing Except Whiskey Day.

Sorry.  This holiday's got me down.  Winter's got me down.  Hearing Christmas music's got me down (more on this later).  It's started to rain, and that's got me down.  Feeling a pain in my ribs when I take a deep breath's got me down.

And my boots have finally started to fall apart.  I got them second hand, but I still assumed they had another few months of life left.  I wish I could be nicer to shoes.

From Self Portraits With Hood

We had to drink a whole 22 before moving on to the next checkpoint. That's a spare tire tube shoved down the front of my pants.

As you can see, cycling tends to tear the shit out of duct tape costumes.

(More pictures from that night here.  The people drinking beers are in the alleycat, everyone else is just Halloweening.)

Sitting at a cafe on Edgewood, blowing one of my gift certificate prizes on things which eat my brain and rot my teeth.

There are some middle-aged white guys sitting on the couches next to me with very good looking briefcases. They are discussing:

1) opening a new restaurant.

2) whether one of the guy's frequent post-midnight calls to an employee are grounds for a sexual harassment lawsuit.

-

I'm considering getting into a fight with this guy.  Over a girl.

Yes, batshit insane... but strangely tempting.  I doubt it will happen.  In my (second-hand) experience, it is very hard to start a fight.  Also, most fights, once started, do not come anywhere near a satisfying exchange of blows.  They generally become two combatants rolling around on concrete - at most, the worst damage done is a face smashed into the ground (never very hard) or some scraping punches to the ribs.  I haven't been in many fights, but I find that the most pressing concern is keeping clothes clean and glasses unsmashed.

Anyway, there's no particular reason this would happen.  I think I'm entertaining the possibility because I'm annoyed that I've put myself in this situation in the first place.  Getting in a series of fights with an imaginary opponent is a good metaphor for: "Ben, don't be fucking retarded."

-

I've been paying special attention to the way my bike handles since the crash, trying to figure out what sort of damage it took, and I finally realized it today: my handlebars and fork (the thing the front wheel is attached to) have gone slightly askew.  That explains why I've been feeling unbalanced lately.  And, coincidentally, this makes my drunken, stopped-by-police-for-running-reds, robot-armor-wearing second place win much more amazing.

Still listening to Matt and Kim + Deathset a lot.  What can I say?  I like piano.

I borrowed a fuzzy hat with wolf ears from a friend, and now I wear it while riding around the city.  It keeps me very warm, and drivers love it.  I have only been called a faggot once in the past week, which is like a 70ish% decrease from a normal week.  I also haven't had anything thrown at me, but that could be an outlier, as I've only had things thrown at me three times in the last 10 months.

The usual Wednesday fun stuff: finished some writing, cooked with FnB, wrote more, fixed bikes, watched scary movies at a friend's house (I was the only person in the room not in a band), and now I'm back home, exhausted and filled with candy.

I am a fuzzy pinata.

Took a spill earlier this evening on the way to the Eco lecture, showed up about three minutes before the talk began, bleeding a little down my leg and face smudged with bike grease.  Felt stupidly proud of myself and trapped sitting in this 22nd century cathedral-style auditorium. 

I think I learn a little more every time sufficient concussive force is applied to my body, so I've tried and listed the events of the crash in order to share that knowledge:

1)  Curb coming faster than I can turn the bike.  Shit.  Twist and bail.

2)  That didn't work, I'm in the air - now I'm on the ground, how did I manage to hit with my shoulder instead of my head?

3)  Damn, bike's in the road.  Get up, give driver thumbs up to say "nothing's broken," then move bike.

4)  Wheels aren't working, fix chain.

5)  Ride to lecture, get off bike.  Am I bleeding?  Where?  Did I hit my head and pass out without realizing it?  No blood in hair, shirt untorn, hands fine under bike gloves.  Huh, I guess it's just those two scrapes on my leg.  Go into lecture.

I should make a list of words/phrases people use which make me stop paying attention to them permanently.

The only one I can think of recently is "post-collapse," and I guess I could add using "Marxist/ism" in relation to current American politics... though that opens up a whole barrel of fish: "reverse-racism," "main stream media," etc.

Anyway.

I want to build a sail and replace my bike seat post with it.

Another thing.

I spent the summer looking for a job, and now that I have one I am mainly angry all the time.  Or at least all the time I'm in the office.  I don't do much right now except transcribe, though they tell me I'll be writing in a few weeks.  But the joke's on them - I interviewed with another job today, doing internet stuff at an internet place.

But I don't really care either way... I mean, I do, in that the other job pays more, has comfier chairs, and a better view.  But the money's only important in relation to how many more month's I'll have to work before I can go to India.

So excited!

Three Great Things:

1) just came back from my favorite first date in weeks.

2) bike modification plans which involve both hacksaws and fiddly gear messing around.

3) new job on Tuesday.


Two Not-So-Great Things:

1) Eyeballs have been hurting all night. (dialogue from date, her: "are you asian?" me: "no, I just, squint a lot." We were both grinning, so this exchange was not weird.)

2) $16 to last me until my first paycheck.

I'm borrowing this photo from a recent post about biking from Phoenix to Athens on the bikepirates group.

It's something I'd really like to try doing myself some time soon.  So I'm posting this as my inspiration to finish a tour (even if it's only the 80 mile tour to Athens) by Halloween.

Hey comic, way to remind me I wanted to read Moby Dick this summer.

(but forgot about it, and didn't end up reading too much of anything)

-

I want biking with my mom this afternoon.  We did about 12 miles, and she kept up damn well - she has to go really slow on hills, and tends to be slightly slower than me in general, but you can tell that she's got the endurance to keep a steady pace for hours.  Can a son be proud of his parents?  I guess it's silly to be proud of little things like physical feats... but she's half-way through her 50's, so it's gotta be mental too, right?

-

Um... things going on... this is sort of a secret, but the Black Lips are playing a free show at 97 Estoria next Monday night.  That should be pretty crazy great.  Especially going there while recovering from whatever diseases I pick up over DragonCon weekend.  Am I excited about DragonCon?  Maybe.  I like seeing people in costume, but geek talk gets more painful to listen too every year.  (I like hearing people talk about geek stuff; the thing I don't like is the pretentious syntax and word choice fans use).

Oh!  And I've got this idea to set up a food and booze courier service during the con - I figure I'll charge a little fee for each delivery, and use my bike for transport.  The hotel's regular delivery price works out to something like $30-40 per trip, so I thought I'd go with $5 to $10.

So, what are you doing for laborday weekend?

"This threw me for a loop. You'd think there were other devices in the vehicle that he might have employed more effectively if his goal was not to run into me, but apparently by simply sounding an alarm he thought he was doing me a favor. After a brief exchange that was actually fairly civil (apart from the fact that every sentence finished with the word "dumbass") I reflected upon the incident. An then it hit me. Some people are actually so stupid that they think horns make things happen. They actually believe their car comes with a magic button in the middle of the steering wheel that can change reality. Suddenly, I became aware of the constant chorus of beeping all around me--the kind that's always present in a big city, and the kind you simply tune out like you do crickets in the country. In every case, I realized the drivers stuck in traffic all around me were using their horns not to communicate information but simply in a vain attempt to change what was happening to them. It was as though they thought sitting in congestion was a bad TV show, and that by honking they might somehow change the channel and be transported to a clear roadway. I'm not sure where this notion comes from. I don't think there's ever been a traffic jam where somebody beeped and the thousands of others also caught in the traffic jam suddenly realized, "Hey, he's right, we can all just go!" and it was over."

From today's Bike Snob NYC.

I applied for an internship at Paste Magazine about a month ago, and still haven't gotten a reply back.  I guess that's a good thing, because last time I applied and was rejected within 1.5 weeks.  Still, I'm used to insto-internet-age-communication.

-

Can't sleep.  Just got back from a quick trip around the city's usual biker hangouts, but couldn't find anyone to go riding with.  The total trip worked out to be 10.9 miles (a bit less, because I took a shortcut through the park), which google says should take 36 minutes by car.  I finished it in almost exactly that time.  Average MPH = about 18.

-

Here's some of Tao Lin's Eeeee Eee Eeee:

He drops Steve off.  On the way home Arby's, Taco Bell, McDonald's, Walgreen's, Kmart, Starbucks, in a row.  Andrew stares at that.  He wants to subvert them somehow.  He is against capitalism for some reason; something about how it directs human perception away from sentient beings and toward abstractions; he is also against being against things, because the binary nature of the universe is against being agaisnt things.  Still, he wants to cause destruction to McDonald's.  It would be good to subvert all those places.  Sara would agree.  They'd go in Starbucks, wreak complex and profound havoc.  People would scream and make faces of agony and intrigue.  At home people would sit with Kleenex and contemplate what had happened, then quietly weep.  He and Sara would run to his gigantic house, laughing complexly.  The house is enormous.  A mansion.  No it isn't.  Just a large house.  A mansion is a large house.  Andrew's parents live in a tower in Berlin.  Andrew saw photos: eight towers, in a row.  In one hundred years the Earth will resemble a metal ball with spikes.  It will move shinily through the univers - confused, deadly.  Grade-schooler, Why does the Earth look like a midieval weapon?

So... I guess I decided that waking up at 5:30 am and riding my bike out to Stone Mountain* three times a week would be a good way to spend however long it takes to pick up a job.  Right now, this seems like a very bad decision... of course, right now I am literally shaking with rage, very angry at the asshole (me) who decided to set my alarm clock for five fucking thirty fucking am.

Maybe this will help even out my sleep cycle.

Or, y'know, throw it hilariously out of wack but endow me with Steve Rogers like strength and fanatacism.

Last night I considered cutting the sleeves off of a few old shirts to lower my wind resistance.

Here's a picture I wandered across this morning:



That's me, Chris (Oglethorpe), and Flavia (New College) in New Orleans this January.  We spent most of the workweek three stories up, cutting, priming, and nailing new wood panels to a beautiful old house destroyed by the post-Katrina storms.  You may notice that I'm not wearing shoes.  If you look between Chris and my legs, you'll see another pair of shoeless feet - by the end of the weekend, I had convinced Chris and Flavia to work shoeless as well.

They were convinced by my monkeylike agility and SPEED.

*at least 40 miles round trip

3 hours is never enough sleep.

Rockband played with friends is fun. Played single-player, the most numbing experience in the entire world.

Peanut butter has been a major component of every meal I've eaten today.

One of the Food Not Bombers brought over a huge bag of okra. We grilled it up sliced lengthwise, with a bit of paprika and Brag (vegan amino acid flavoring stuff). Tasted AMAZING. I eat better from the dumpstered FnB meals then I do at home.

My current grocery list: okra, yogurt, booze.

I just remembered how much I want a ukulele. Also, to go on a long bike tour with my ukulele. Current tour plan: take a three day weekend to visit Athens (a little more than 80 miles each way); eventually, ride from Atlanta to Birmingham.

EDIT:  checked craigslist, and someone's selling a ukulele + instruction book for $12!  Why twelve?!?  I don't know!!!!!!

Man, I can't believe I missed this. I bet racing on those things would be really fun (even though I can't maintain a speed even close to those fast bastards).

I just had dinner with a pair of libertarians.

It was amazing.

It was like the first time I went to a party at Georgia Tech, and realized that the people I was talking to weren't joking. Or going on that trip to Israel, and sitting down with the other Birthright people to talk about our spiritual transformations after seeing the Western Wall.

I don't know what it is about sincerity that cracks me up.

But these libertarians had scoops of it. I got the idea that they were both very smart, which made it even funnier when they'd turn to each other to agree on a matter of policy (they were a couple). Once or twice Jeremy pointed out a flaw in an argument they presented. And then, after agreeing that the flaw existed, they proceeded to use the same reasoning to support another (identical) example.

It was like watching a snail in a snowstorm.

-

Two additional notes:

1) I was riding down Boulevard a bit earlier today, and this pedestrian actually reached out his arm to pull me off my bike. I was pretty surprised until I hit the pavement. Then I was frightened, then angry, then pretty much resigned. No damage to myself on the way down except fucked up wrist and mysterious ache in left buttock. Bicycle's right brake lever is bent to a weird position, but still functional. Gonna replace the chain and maybe some cogs just to be sure.

2) I'm sort of starting this ambitious project. I want to create a library which specializes in books on how to make or do things. I'm gonna go meet with a possible host place tomorrow, and then work out donations and maybe even cash on Wednesday.