Monthly Archives: October 2010

Some things came together for me today. If I get the girl at the end end this will make a great comeback movie. A good night’s sleep, a recent downpour, a cool front, and Munson sweet Munson Grandmother of the Woods trail. Even though HiTops just rode away on the neighborhood ride for home, I felt vindicated. There was no driving to the trailhead, no babies on board, and no plan B. I gave ’em hell in the woods for a little while, and it’s only going to get worse from here– for them.

Juancho

WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!

KING. What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

William Shakespeare

Now I know why I used to write only about riding my bike. It’s because something always happens on a bike ride, so the material just writes itself. Like yesterday, I met my buddy and his 2 year old daughter out at the Pedrick Greenway. The greenway is a gigantic sysytem of pasturey-looking land with interlacing doubletracks to nowhere. The only certain way to navigate the greenway is to stay on the outside and loop the whole 7 miles back to where you start. It’s a pretty ride, with a mix of dirt, turf, and sand. It has some decent sustained climbs to work you over and it is just generally a very tranquil environment. That’s why the ‘dillos like it so much.

My friend was riding with a broken pedal and a two-year old in the bumper seat so that evened our pace out to a happy slow medium. This allowed us to quietly sneak up on two nine-banded armadillos, on two distinct occasions, they were not consorting with one another.

Not very interesting you might say? Should you say that I would reply, how many armadillos did you see yesterday?

That’s what I thought,

Juancho

I feel great. I feel like I had a lobotomy.

Anger really is an unsustainable operating system. I’m lighter now, inside and out, and I feel good. It sounds simple, but it is not. I’m wiping the slate clean. I’m rebooting the 40 year-old hard drive. Guess what? It’s amnesty day at the Big Ring Circus. I forgive everyone, even those who don’t want it. I even forgive that jackass in California. It’s over. Forget it. Sorry I just called you a jackass.

While I’m at it, I would like to take it a step further and apologize to you all. If my words have ever been unfair, or cut too close to home, I’m sorry. If I was a bad listener, forgive me. I am not in charge of the mid-term elections, the weather, the war in Afghanistan, or anything else at all. It’s just me and my thoughts in here, in this head, so I’m learning to keep myself better company on the cold, dark nights when the bad thoughts come calling. Come in bad thoughts. Sit down. Let me get you a nice hot mug of tea. Do what you need to do. I will wait patiently until you tire of me. Godspeed on your travels. Goodbye.

Juancho

Just a little memory to share with you this fine cool morning-

On my march through the Nene’s at dawn today my ipod shuffled up a cover of the song “Crazy” by the noted hacks, Me First and the Gimme Gimme’s. The song got me thinking about my friends in Bosnia, and friends long-returned from Bosnia who lived through the siege of Sarajevo, the evil destruction of Mostar, and the eventual signing of the Dayton Peace Accords.

The song was released in 1991 and within a few months the city of Sarajevo was a death trap. Buses were turned on their sides to make sniper blinds and the people boiled grass for nourishment. What supplies they could get were brought into the city carried by hand through a lifeline of tunnels. As the war ground on and the bodies piled up, all of the parks and open space of the city was used for burials. All trees were cut for fuel until they ran out and turned to window frames, tires, or anything that could burn. 10,000 people were killed or went missing.

The Sarajevans waited for help, fought back, and continued living their lives however they could. The unrelenting nearness of death brought them close to each other and to wear the badge of “Sarajevan” brought great pride.

Sarajevo remained defiant.

Wikimedia has this to say about it-

“The siege of Sarajevo, as it came to be popularly known, was an episode of such notoriety in the conflict in the former Yugoslavia that one must go back to World War II to find a parallel in European history. Not since then had a professional army conducted a campaign of unrelenting violence against the inhabitants of a European city so as to reduce them to a state of medieval deprivation in which they were in constant fear of death. In the period covered in this Indictment, there was nowhere safe for a Sarajevan, not at home, at school, in a hospital, from deliberate attack.

That is why this song,Crazy, has the power to transport them back to a time when the only way they could live with fear was to dance with it.

Neka poživi Sarajevo!

Juancho