The Universe and I are in a period of great reckoning. For every pound of flesh I owe, I receive a paid in full receipt and directions to the next negotiation. It seems no part of my life is to go unchanged this year so get on with it I say, let’s settle all accounts and see who is left wearing the barrel.
That may be cryptic, but I can’t think of any other way to say it.
This morning found me casting around for riding partners and I eventually settled on a reluctant Mystery. In a complete reversal of roles I tolerated his search for missing gloves, one more cup of coffee, and erratic pace and route selection until we finally settled in for some quality spins at the Greenway. I couldn’t be impatient as he was demonstrating something of a “Juancho’s Best Of” review of strategies for canceling, postponing, or sabotaging a ride. Being so unpracticed, Mystery had no choice but to fall in line.
After using him up, I dipped into Tom Brown Park on the way home and enjoyed a solo lap of swooping singletrack, wearing an Ipod like a common Kook. I listened to The Eels for anyone keeping track. As I tend to do, I am discovering them a few years since they broke, but better late than never I think.
And that goes for a hell of a lot of things right now.