Monthly Archives: March 2006

Up in Alaska: Hey, this is my blog

When Joe asks her what she used to do for a career, all she ever says is she used to love to go hiking and skydiving.

This woman, 75 years old, now uses her sense of adventure to survive living on the streets of Tallahassee. Caught in the dilemma of medication or housing, but never both, she sleeps on the concrete front porch you see pictured above. Bike boxes make for good insulation from the cold chill seeping up through the concrete. Lake Ella is fairly safe, more prone to deviant rendevous in the parking lot than outright violence. Most importantly, she chose Joe. Lots of people choose Joe. For as long as I have known him and his tiny bike shop on the lake, Joe has taken care of the outcasts, the loners, the misfits. Some ride bikes, but not all of them. Some don’t seem to notice it is even a bike shop. They come to chat with Joe, just like I do.

This woman is different. She has chosen to live at Joe’s. She comes around at closing time, always asks permission to stay. What do you do? Joe said yesterday if he had a bigger place he would bring her home, and I don’t doubt it.

I’m so pissed about this I can barely type.

Joe, and Huck, and Scotty B. (Not his real name) have made some upgrades. They moved the bench she used to sleep on, and Joe bought her a foam pool float (one of those real thick, non-inflatable ones). They got her a lamp. I mean, what can you do? She’s not mentally ill, although her body is racked with cancer apparently. She’s done with chemo. No more of that she says. If it comes back, she won’t seek that kind of help. She’s got no family left. She’s on her own.

Yesterday Joe showed me a note she asked him to write for her stating that she wanted her body to be used for the advancement of medical science if it is at all useful to anyone. Joe dutifully wrote the note, she signed it, inscribed a social security number, and he put it in the drawer. What else can you do?

She’s not mentally ill. She keeps herself clean and put together somehow. She can express herself just fine, and she is angry to still be alive. She says she has done everything she wanted to do. She says she’s too scared, or not the type, to just eat a bunch of pills and go to sleep forever. She doesn’t ask for money, and when Joe offers it she refuses. She definitely doesn’t want to go to the homeless shelter.

I am making the social service calls, exploring the options, but who knows what she is willing to do? She has her pride to consider. Chances are that someone will find her dead on Joe’s porch before the state comes up with a place for her.

What is my point? I don’t know.

That I’m disgusted?
That I want to help her?
That you will NEVER be as proud of your bike shop as I am of mine?

Juancho

Wow. After the show I saw last night I can only say WOW!

A small crew of us took a ride to campus last night, rolling out of 10th Ave around 9:30. “Shins”, chief mechanic down at Joe’s (www.joesbikeshop.net) had a craving for some urban assault.

Bushy, Hambone, and I started riding the FSU campus at night, for fun, back in the early ’90’s so we figured we could show him a thing or two. Shhhhhhhiiiiiiiiittttt. I don’t think so.

A brief primer: to “huck” is the new lexicon for “jump” or “launch” yourself and your bike into the air, or off of something. Just to make sure we are all on the same page.

The route went something like this…

10th to Milton

Through the graveyard (very dark) Juancho shows off his skills by locking the brakes a split second before hitting a tree.

Up MLK Jr. to the Gazebo on Park.

This is where things got serious. 30 feet of air, out of the gazebo onto the steps below (between the iron handrails mind you). Variations followed. Over the clipped hedge pungy sticks, etc.

Well OK then. Welcome to the X-games. Onward to campus. Hit this, jump that. Jump this, hit that. Swoosh, zoom, boing! Everyone is having a good time.

Top of the hill, Landis Green. Huck Slim is checking out a double flight of stairs, 20 or 30 feet long. A cleaning woman is standing in a doorway at the bottom talking on her cell phone. Calling the police? No. “I want to see y’all do this” she says. Sorry to disappoint her, but there won’t be much y’all involved. Just Huck Slim and his big brass ones. It hasn’t sunk in for me exactly what he intends to do. Ride down them real fast? I can do that. Bunny hop over the edge onto the first flight? I won’t do that. No way.

When I turn around and see him coming in for the approach I realize what he is up to. He is going to jump the entire first flight, and land somewhere down below, being sure to clear his head below the concrete slab protruding down from the ceiling. He launches. An icy chill runs down my spine. He comes up a little short, sparks shower out from his big ring as it drags across the landing. I smell gunpowder.

“OH SHIT!” Says the cleaning woman. “I ain’t NEVER seen nothing like that before!”

Me neither honey, me neither.

Bunny hop the bench onto the slope then drop off the 4 foot wall to the parking lot? No problem.

Ride a one-handed wheelie all the way home? No problem.

Huck Slim I tell you, the guy is amazing. This post isn’t even worthy, in fact it sucks. It should be more daring.

Here goes– @#%&&^$$^*())_+_)&&(*^$#$$%^^!!!!!!!!!!!!

Whew, that’s more like it!

BIG CAT UPDATE

After using the term “cryptozoologist” more than once on this site due to the frequency of encounters with our gentle giant friend, Sasquatch, life will now imitate art. Next Tuesday Ham and I are invited to participate in a radio call in show hosted by the Pangea Institute www.pangeainstitute.us to discuss our sighting. Investigator Scott Marlowe is not convinced of the Jaguarundi theory, and holds out for large panther-like cat. When push comes to shove, Ham and I lean that way too. It will all be discussed on the air. I have no idea what station, or how to listen, but I will see what I can do. First I have to go look for scat and tracks.

You are all invited to that little party. E-mail me if you live here and seriously wish to go looking for cat scat. We could make an afternoon of it! john.phantom309@gmail.com

Juancho

Friday afternoon, approximately 4:00 P:M, a Black Panther was spotted by Hambone and me on what was formerly referred to as “Computer Tutors Trail” or “The Timberlane Bum Trail” off of Timberlane road. This trail, and the drainage ditch to the north will now be known as “Panther Park”. For those of you with some history of Circus attendance, you will remember another Friday- October 21, 2005- when I spotted my first Black Panther in the area.

I was not alone this time. Bushy was also with us, but rolled up seconds too late to glimpse the fleeing cat. This one was smaller, I presume because it is early Spring, and we caught it with its pants down, sitting in the trail.

Mind you, there is no recorded proof of panthers, especially black ones, in the area, but they are here.

The South Carolina lowlands country has a similar situation which can be followed at www.cougartracker.blogspot.com I just don’t know what else to tell you people. We got big cats running around and that is a certified BigRingCircus fact. If you have anecdotal evidence to support this enigma, please share.

Thanks to Bushy and Doc T, I got a respectable 45 miles in over the weekend, primarily singletrack, so that equals like 400 road miles easy. I am right on schedule to burst from the winter meat sweater like a beautiful butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

Chew on that image with your morning coffee, and I’ll catch you later.

-Juancho

Congratulations to Ham on the adoption of a bouncing Kona Nunu. We at the Big Ring Circus wish you and your new bike many years of joy and pain.

-BRC